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#and you’re not bothering me don’t worry
whateveriwant · 3 days
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I know I’ve already gone on and on about what it’s like to have a size difference with Simon Riley, but I’m sorry, I just will never get over how big and strong this man is.
Like I feel like sometimes his size gets lost on us since he’s surrounded by other tall, buff military guys all the time. But y’all, I’m telling you, this man is big. Like 6’4, 250+ pounds, big enough to eclipse the sun big.
With a man that big, it honestly doesn’t even matter what size you are because he’s always going to be bigger and stronger than you anyway. You can be tall, short, stocky, thin, whatever, and this man is still fully capable (and willing? 👀) of snapping you in half like a twig.
Are you worried about potential home invaders? Well, you shouldn’t be. One quick flick of his wrist and he’s breaking the neck of anyone who tries to threaten you. Did you accidentally lock yourself out of the house? Well, don’t bother calling a locksmith. There’s no lock left to pick after he’s just caved the door in with his foot. Do you have a really stubborn jar you’re struggling to open? Well, hand it over, love. He can crack that sucker open in half a second flat.
But Lord, don’t even get me started when it comes to all the ways Simon uses that strength of his in the bedroom.
Like when he tells you to sit on his face so he can eat you out. Don’t even try it with that nervous, hovering, “I’m too heavy, Si,” bullshit. You better sit your ass down right when and where he tells you to or he’ll hold you down by the hips until he’s had his fill.
Or when, after a night of heavy flirting and teasing, he’s got that look in his eye as he corners you against your entryway wall. Don’t be surprised when one moment your feet are firmly planted on the ground, and the next you’re lifted into the air, your legs slung over his arms as he drills into you like you’re his own little fuck puppet.
Or when he’s got you spread out on his bed, got your knees up by your ears, got the backs of your thighs burning in a way that’s matched only by how your walls have to stretch to take his thick cock. Don’t think he’s being mean or malicious when he sees your eyes well with tears but does nothing to change the way he’s fucking down into you. It’s not that Simon doesn’t care whenever you cry and quiver and plead with him to go easier on you, it’s that he knows the truth. He knows that, deep down, you love when he handles you like he isn’t afraid to break you.
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softspiderling · 2 days
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like, ever | j.v
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summary:
“Hey, I’m worried about you.”
You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.
“Why?”
She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito.
OR; You and Jace break up because of a stupid reason, but you’re both too proud to apologize.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: kinda toxic behavior from both of them, but like the usual issues in communication that’s so common in people our age idk what to tell you
word count: 4,1k
author’s note: modern au!jace is the president of the frat Alpha Draconis (it's co-ed, Rhaenyra was president during her time at uni), Jace/Aegon/Baela and their respective siblings are all cousins, but this is NOT in the same universe as can I go (where you go). thank you to my wonder sister wife beta @eldrith as usual <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“We broke up.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, we did.”
Baela gave you a look, narrowing her eyes at you as she pushed her Econ 1 assignment away. You dropped down on the couch next to her, leaning your head back.
“Why?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you huffed and Baela whacked you in the arm.
“You just came home and dropped a bomb like that, you can’t just not talk about it.”
“Not talk about what?”
You internally groaned when Helaena’s voice floated from the hallway, the front door shutting behind her. An intervention was inevitable at this point. At least Rhaena wasn’t home yet, you knew she was volunteering until six.
“She and Jace broke up,” Baela told her and Helaena paused in the doorway to the living room, a frown on her face as she undid her braid.
“You didn’t.”
“That’s what I said!”
“You know, normal friends would offer ice cream if their friend was going through a break up.”
“I’d offer you ice cream if you were sad,” Helaena pointed out. She sat down next to you, patting your shoulder. “You don’t look sad.”
“Well, I am sad,” you sniffed, but Baela fixed her brown eyes at you until you threw your hands up in frustration. “Fine! I’m mostly mad, okay? Pissed off, actually!”
Baela folded her legs under herself. “Tell us what happened.”
“I don’t know, she just rubs me the wrong way. It’s like she knows you have a girlfriend and she chooses to ignore that.”
You and Jace were laying in his bed, your head on his chest. He had been telling you about the new pledges of the term, and you weren’t exactly fond of one of them - Laura, a nursing major. You were aware of her being especially touchy with Jace, twirling her hair while she was talking to him and always searching him out at every event. Which was fair, he was the president of the frat after all and at first you had told yourself that you were just projecting but the you noticed that she was laughing at all of Jace’s jokes. She was definitely into him. He was not that funny.
“I don’t know, it’s just the way she is, I think,” he said, and you frowned at him.
“Jace, come on, she’s totally into you.”
“Well, good thing I’m into you,” Jace pointed out, turning his head to nose along your neck but you pushed him away, starting to get annoyed that he wasn’t taking this seriously.
“I mean it, Jace.”
“So do I,” he answered, irritated. “Why does this bother you so much?”
“Because I don’t like another girl’s hands being all over you?”
You sat up, leaning away from him with a frown and he only sighed, laying his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes. He was starting to piss you off.
“She’s not into me! Everyone tries to butter me up because they want to join the frat. And even if she was, why does it matter?”
“It matters because it bothers me and you clearly don’t care!”
“Of course I care,” Jace sighed. He opened his eyes, reaching out for you, and you had to admit your resolve was starting to crumble. “You’re overreacting.”
And just like that, the wall was back up.
“Wow, thanks.”
Your voice was biting as you spoke, tugging your hand out of his grasp and standing up, grabbing your hoodie. Jace was quick to follow you, brows furrowed. Great, now both of you were mad.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Jace snapped and you only glared at him.
“Thanks for invalidating my feelings, Jacaerys,” you said sarcastically. “If I’m making a deal out of nothing, maybe we’re both nothing.”
Jace’s face fell and he stopped in his tracks, letting out a huff. “You don’t mean that.”
Maybe you didn’t. But you weren’t about to backtrack now. You were a woman of your words.
“Yes, I do.”
You pulled the door open and rushed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind you. Distantly, you could hear Jace call after you and you secretly hoped he would chase after you, but by the time you made it downstairs to the front door, he was still nowhere to be seen.
“That’s…”
Baela and Helaena exchanged a look and you frowned at them. While you hadn’t expected for them to immediately spring into assuring you that they were on your side - you were dating their cousin after all - you also didn’t quite imagined them being so… Shocked.
“What?” you asked, suddenly growing insecure. “I had a point.”
“Well, yeah,” Baela started, “But so did he.”
“Why did you immediately jump into breaking up?” Helaena asked with a soft voice, the voice you knew she used when she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You lifted your shoulders, then dropped them again, unable to answer her question.
“Did you want to break up?”
“No!”
You tucked your chin against your chest, a pit forming in your stomach. Did you maybe overreact?
“I was just mad,” you said, frowning, picking at the hem of your shirt.
“.. And you wanted to hurt him?” Baela said, finishing your sentence. Your head shot up, a denial on your lips, but your mouth closed when her words sunk in.
“… Maybe.”
“You two really are hotheaded and stubborn,” Helaena pointed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You only glowered, the anger from earlier dissipating and instead was replaced by misery and a little bit of guilt? Luckily, Helaena and Baela left you to your wallowing after they realized you needed some space and you fled to your bedroom, trying to bury yourself in your assignments.
There was only one slight problem. You couldn’t find school bag anywhere.
“Where did I leave it?” you muttered to yourself, checking under your desk for your bag, even opening the drawer for good measure. You were crawling on the floor looking under your bed when it finally dawned on you.
“Fuck.”
You had gone over to the frat’s house right after class, with your school bag. And after the fight, you must have forgotten to grab it.
“Ugh,” you groaned, dropping your forehead on the floor You’d rather crawl under your bed and sleep with the dust bunnies that have been collecting under there than go back to the frat house right now. But you had no choice. The assignment was was due the day after tomorrow and Professor Cole already was in a bad mood because his date went badly.
“Fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, turning to lay on your bad and cursed the Gods for making you miserable as you stared at the ceiling, collecting your wits.
“Oh.”
Luke Velaryon, Jace’s younger AND biological brother, stood in the doorway, apprehensive. He had always been the more sensitive one between the two brothers, but he was also unwaveringly loyal. You had no doubt that Jace had already told him everything about your fight.
“Hey Luke,” you said, giving him a wry smile.
“Hey,” he replied hesitantly. “Jace is not here.”
“I know.”
Luke pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around as if he was expecting his older brother to come out of the bushes any second. “Are you okay?”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. What a sweet boy.
“Yeah, alright enough I guess,” you replied, sighing. “Listen, I forgot my bag in Jace’s room and I really need it to do an assignment, could you let me in?”
“I don’t know….” Luke answered slowly. “Jace should be back soon though. Maybe you can just wait until he gets back? And then you guys could talk?”
Bless him.
You bit on your lip, running your hand through your hair, exasperated. “Listen Luke, I really appreciate you trying to look out for Jace, but I really can’t see him right now.”
Luke exhaled, shifting on his feet like he was undecided. The longer it took for him to decide, the higher chances were you’d run into Jace on your way out.
“Please, Luke, I just need to grab my bag really quickly. He won’t even notice I was there.”
With a loud sigh, Luke finally nodded, opening the door wider and taking a step back.
“He’s gonna be back soon, you need to hurry up.”
“Thanks Luke!”
You hushed past him into the house, walking the familiar way up the stairs to Jace’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you. With a small sigh, you looked around, trying to discern your stuff from his. It was harder than you had first anticipated, your belongings strewn all over the room. Picking your favorite scrunchie off of his nightstand next to a picture of the two of you during New Year’s Eve, you put your hair up as you narrowed your eyes, feeling relief settle in your chest when you saw your backpack lean against the desk.
“Thank God”, you muttered, grabbing it quickly. Just as you headed to the door, hand on the door knob, you could hear voices down the hallway through the closed door. You cursed, recognizing it as Jace and Cregan.
Fuck.
Immediately, you let go of the door knob, taking a few steps back, trying to come up with a way you wouldn’t be caught standing in the middle of Jace’s bedroom. Did you have enough time to make the climb out of the window and scale down the roof?
“- it’ll blow over. I’ll give her some time to calm down and-”
Before you could make a decision, the door swung open, and Jace entered. He was looking back at Cregan, who raised his brows when he saw you in the middle of the room.
“Wha-?” Jace turned his head, his mouth dropping open. “… Hey.”
“Hey.”
Cregan glanced between the two of you, narrowing his eyes. Meanwhile, Jace was rubbing the back of his neck.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah,” you answered - LAME! - lifting your backpack.
Jace nodded slowly. “Was there anything you wanted to say?”
You frowned at him, confused.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Jace said, shrugging with his shoulders. “I thought you were here to apologize.”
Cregan groaned, leaning his forehead against the door frame as you felt all the anger from before welling up again.
“Me apologize?” You repeated, your voice shrill. “What about you? I bet Laura’s thrilled to hear we broke up.”
“You just ended things for no reason! Laura’s not even into me!” Jace snapped and Cregan pushed himself off of the door frame.
“Maybe we all should just calm down.”
“Shut up, Cregan!” You and Jace yelled at the same time, your anger very briefly directed at Jace’s best friend.
Cregan flinched, raising his hands defensively. “Jesus, sorry. I’ll never try to help again,” he muttered. “Let me give you two a minute.”
He stepped out of the room but you held your hands up, stopping him with a scoff.
“No, I’m done here,” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. With one last angry look at Jace, you pushed between them, running out of the house, smoke coming out of your ears.
You spent the rest of the week distracting yourself. Burying yourself in assignments and reading, eating ice cream - there was a deal at Whole Foods, five for three, your freezer was full - and you only cried once.
“Hey, I’m worried about you.”
You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.
“Why?”
She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito. You sighed, letting the blankets fall from your shoulders.
“I’m fine, Rhae.”
“Hey, did you convince her to come?” Baela skidded to a halt next to Rhaena, looking from her sister to you. Rhaena only sighed while you narrowed your eyes at Baela’s get up. She was wearing black leather pants and a brown corset; she looked like she was going out.
“Come where?”
“Alpha Draconis’ summer term opening party.”
Right that. The party you had helped Jace plan. Before you broke up.
“I don’t know guys,” you sighed, leaning back against your headboard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go.”
“You don’t have to go,” Rhaena assured you but Baela shushed her, shaking her head.
“No, you absolutely have to go,” she insisted. “We’ve let you wallow in your misery long enough. It’s time to put your big girl pants on and face Jace. You broke up with him for a shitty reason and yes, he was being a jerk, but you were being a bitch. Now suck it up and get your man back.”
You gaped at her, and Rhaena whacked Baela in the arm, but she only shrugged, ever the unapologetic brutally honest one.
“What? You know I’m right,” Baela only said, frowning at her twin before she turned to you. “So?”
With a groan, you closed your eyes. You knew Baela was right, in a way, and it was no use sitting around when your friends were going out. You had to see him eventually.
“Fine,” you gave in, pushing the blanket back as Baela cheered, immediately disappearing. Rhaena only shook her head, stepping into your bedroom, helping you clean up a little.
“I’m driving,” she told you. “Just tell me if you want to leave, okay?”
You nodded, giving Rhaena a grin when something soft just hit you in the face with no warning, courtesy of Baela having returned to your bedroom.
“Put that on.”
The projectile fell to floor, and as you picked it up, you recognized it as a dark red dress, tags still on.
“Hel’s headed to the party from work, so we’ll meet her there in an hour, go take a shower and I’ll do your hair,” Baela said, reaching for your hand to pull you up. “Come on, up up up!”
Begrudgingly, you let Baela usher you into the shower, shutting the door behind you very decidedly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes rimmed red and hair a mess and you allowed yourself a minute of respite before you turned the shower on. If you had to go to that stupid party, you’d make sure to look the absolute best.
“Am I crazy or is it even more crowded than last term?”
You winced as you followed Baela and Rhaena through an especially crowded spot in the house, glancing around.
“No, it’s definitely more people,” Baela agreed, squeezing your hand to make sure not to lose you in the mass. “Has Helaena said where she is?”
“She said she was in backyards,” Rhaena replied and Baela steered you in the direction of the backyard. Meanwhile you tried not to let your eyes roam too much; you didn’t want to seem like you were looking for Jace, even though that was exactly what you were doing. Just as you reached the patio doors, Helaena appeared, stopping you in the doorway.
“Hey guys,” she said, breathless, her eyes flitting over to you as you greeted her. “Should we go get drinks?”
“I’m not dragging my ass back through that crowd,” you moaned, shaking your head. “Let’s just sit down by the pool for a second before we go back in.”
You nudged Helaena out of the way gently, but the blonde grabbed your arm, trying to pull you back.
“But I’m really thirsty.”
“Hel, come on,” you laughed. “You’ll survive ten more minutes without-”
The rest of your words died on your tongue when you caught sight of Jace sitting by the pool, surrounded by his frat brothers and of course, Laura. Now you knew why Helaena was so adamant to get you away from the backyard. It was too loud to hear what Jace was saying, but he must be telling an extremely funny story with the way Laura was laughing, touching his shoulder. They weren’t doing anything scandalous, but it still hurt you to see him still talking to her after you voiced your concerns. You tried not to let it get to you. It wasn’t your business anymore anyways, but you were still a little sick to the stomach.
With a scoff, you turned away, embarrassment burning your cheeks as your friends looked at you with pitiful eyes.
“Sorry,” Rhaena said and you only shrugged with your shoulders.
“Whatever,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “I told you, she was into him. Now he’s free to do as he pleases.”
Baela winced. “We can leave, if you want.”
“No, I’m not leaving because of that clown.”
The girls let out a laugh and Helaena wrapped her arm around you. You gave her a wry smile, leaning into her.
“Let’s go get you that drink.”
As Helaena dragged you away, you couldn’t help but glance back to Jace and for a split second, your eyes met. You quickly turned away, feeling a lump form in your throat. You couldn’t wait to get drinks. After getting to the kitchen, the four of you did two rounds of shots, knowing where the boys kept their expensive booze; Rhaena then mixed you some drinks before you settled on the couch in the living room. Taking a careful sip of your cup, you immediately pulled a face, looking at Rhaena.
“What the hell is in this?”
“I think Grey Goose and Coke.”
“You think?” you asked, wincing when you took another sip. “This is awful Rhae.”
“What is awful?”
Aegon, Helaena’s brother, one cousin of many in the Targaryen family, suddenly plopped down on the couch next to you.
“Oh great, Aegon is here,” Baela deadpanned and Aegon only mocked Baela as he reached for your drink.
“Sure, just go ahead and take my drink.”
Aegon took a big gulp of your drink, humming. “It’s not bad,” he said, offering the cup back to you but you politely declined. You didn’t know where Aegon’s mouth had been in the last 24 hours, there was no way you’d drink out of the same cup he had.
“So, what’s this I hear about you and our cousin breaking up?” Aegon asked, throwing his arm around the back of the couch and you scooted forward, trying to escape his touch.
“You heard right,” you said, throwing him a dirty look and Rhaena rolled her eyes.
“You’re a dick, Aeg.”
“What?” Aegon exclaimed. “’t was just a question, no harm done, right?”
You let out a deep sigh, pushing away from the couch.
“I need some air,” you told the girls and Rhaena furrowed her brows, worried.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“We can make Aegon leave,” Baela offered and Aegon made a noise, frowning at his cousin but you shook your head,
“Nah, I’m good. Just, text me if you guys go somewhere, okay?”
“Are you sure, babe?” Helaena asked and you nodded, patting her shoulder gently.
“Yeah, ‘m fine. I promise.”
With a small wave, you disappeared into the crowd, hearing the cousins starting to argue, but it was background noise to you. Instead of heading to the front door, you inconspicuously headed upstairs, past a kissing couple, and to the bathroom on the second floor. The door was shut, but unlocked and unoccupied as you opened the door. You let it fall shut in its hinges after you, walking over to the window, like you had done so many times before, but never alone. Clicking the window open, you carefully climbed out to the roof, sliding the window closed behind you again. You traipsed over the roof, before settling down on the small nook that sat right above Benjicot’s bedroom, stretching out your legs.
Jace had shown you this place when you first started dating, and sometimes when the parties got too much, the two of you snuck out here to be alone. It was probably risky to go here; but it was the only place you felt like you could retreat without having to go home.
The noise of the party downstairs could still be heard, especially the conversations in the backyard, but to you, it seemed quieter as you closed your eyes. It had cooled down significantly since you had come to the party, but you enjoyed the bite of the cold on your bare arms. A deep breath escaped your lips, your chest heavy.
Looking back on it, you knew what you had said was wrong. It was words hurled in the heat of the moment, chosen to provoke a reaction out of Jace and if you could take them back, you would. But now it was too late, it had seemed like Laura had already sunken her talons into Jace as soon as he was available - not that she had cared much about whether he had a girlfriend or not - and he seemed to be lapping it up.
“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the tear that escaped your eye from your cheek with the back of your hand. You froze, when you heard the bathroom window slide open; not daring to look back. His steps were careful as he walked towards you, as if not to spook you, but before he came into view, a soft jacket was draped over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, tugging the jacket tighter around your body when Jace sat down next to you.
The silence between you stretched on, before Jace cleared his throat.
“You were right.”
You let out a small scoff at his words, glancing over to him.
“You’re shitting me, right?” you asked in disbelief. “She was all over you like that and you still thought she wasn’t into you?”
Jace winced, ducking his head.
“That’s fair. Maybe I was a little oblivious. It’s just…” he paused, sighing. “I didn’t see it, because I don’t really see other girls. Ever since we met, it’s just been you. I didn’t even realize that she was flirting with me until she straight up asked me if we could go upstairs.”
Jealousy flared up in your chest at his words, and you frowned, quickly giving him a once over.
“Well, did you?” you asked, your voice tight. Jace gave you a look, his hands dropping down on his lap.
“I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”
Relief flooded your veins and you ducked your head to hide your face. Jace glanced over at you, his face vulnerable and you bit your lip.
“I’m sorry too,” you then said. “I didn’t mean what I said. It was petty and stupid, and I’m sorry.”
“Well looks like we both got to work on some things,” Jace said, tentatively reaching out to take your hand; out of reflex you immediately laced your hand with his. He quirked a smile at you, scooting closer to you and you glanced up at him, almost shyly before you leaned in, as he met you halfway, your lips touching. Jace wrapped his hand around the back of your neck as you kissed, and if you hadn’t felt warm before, you definitely did now.
“What’s happening?”
“They’re kissing!”
“No way! Move over!”
“You move over!”
A crash sounded and you pulled away from Jace, just to see Luke and his cousins spying on you from the bathroom.
“Nothing to see here, carry on!” Luke yelled, quickly sliding the window back down, but their bickering could be heard through the closed window.
Jace snorted out a laugh, leaning his forehead against yours and you only grinned lazily at him.
“Come on, let’s go face the circus before they break the window and we have to scale down the roof,” Jace said, offering you his hand as he got up. You let him help you up, as the two of you walked back to the bathroom window.
“You know I thought about scaling down the roof when you caught me in your bedroom?”
“You’re joking.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author’s note: tell me what you think <3 also will add the taglist tomorrow bc i’m so tired but wanted to post🫶🏼
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innerfare · 1 day
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You’re Jealous
 Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid
Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Luffy: He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 
Zoro: He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 
Sanji: Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 
Ace: He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 
Sabo: Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  
Law: Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 
Kid: He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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criminalamnesia · 16 hours
Text
Traitor part 8
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.
let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3
thank you again!
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after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.
it never ends, does it?
apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.
it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.
you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.
you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.
your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.
it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“hello?” you say as you answer the call.
“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”
you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”
you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.
“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.
she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”
you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.
why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?
your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.
laswell is coming here to do damage control.
you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.
you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.
but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?
you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.
and when you start something, you see it through.
you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.
price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.
“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”
“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.
“whatever she told you—”
“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”
price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.
“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”
“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.
“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.
“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.
and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.
you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.
like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.
on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.
in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.
when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.
it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.
it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.
and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.
what they condemned you to.
what he condemned you to.
he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.
price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.
“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.
“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.
he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.
instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.
“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.
“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.
and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.
but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?
you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.
more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.
blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.
you would’ve thrown it away anyways.
you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.
his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.
you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.
“done?”
and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.
it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.
because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.
and yet he didn’t stop you.
“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.
he shrugs. “you needed it.”
he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.
“least I could do,” he says.
you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?
“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.
maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.
“no,” he says, and you know he means it.
he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.
he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”
that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.
and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.
“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.
the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.
“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.
“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.
“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”
you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.
“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.
he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”
“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”
you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.
“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.
“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”
you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”
his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.
those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.
you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.
their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.
“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”
you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”
finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”
you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”
none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.
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a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.
you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.
the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.
none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.
(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)
the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.
you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.
you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.
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you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.
“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”
you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.
you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.
you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.
you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.
nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.
your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.
how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?
you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.
the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.
a new beginning, you think.
you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.
the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.
eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.
who else knows you’re here?
perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.
you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.
its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.
a new beginning indeed.
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luveline · 22 hours
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hey! i wanted to request r with a best friend!marauder, and she feels guilty for being a clingy/touchy bsf? eg. always holds hands and loops arms together and loves hugs. but said marauder comforts her? thank you jadey
The steps off of the bus feel especially steep on just four hours sleep. You’re not dizzy, but when James offers his hand from the ground, you accept it. Much less scary to know he could catch you if you slipped. 
“I’m surprised we weren’t holding hands already,” he says, giving yours a squeeze as you land, and pulling you to the side where the already departed rugby team and their family members wait for their luggage to be retrieved from the bus’ belly.
“Oh, I know,” you say. There’s an odd awkwardness to it that you’re trying to bury. 
James is used to you. Your hand in his is casual, perhaps a little too much for company, but it’s just hand-holding. You like feeling that he’s near, the slight chill of British summer more readily suffered with his palm against yours. He runs hot. 
He lets your joined hands swing gently with the wait, doesn’t bother letting it go until the luggage is all out. James grabs his duffel bag and your suitcase, and everyone makes their way to the hotel. It’s late —the team were expecting to be here much sooner but there had been a punctured tire, and then an accident on the M4. James will have to play the game tomorrow with less hours of sleep than intended, but he’ll play well. 
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” James says a little later, when you’ve shoved your suitcase under the double bed. He turns off the big light. 
“That is an uncharacteristically large word.” 
“Loser,” he says, pushing down the blankets to sit next to you. He rubs his mouth and nose, then he turns to you, all business. “You are quiet, though. What’s the matter? Still feel poorly?” 
“I feel fine.” 
“You look awful.” He winces at his own harshness. “You look upset, sorry. And you still have sleep in your eyes, let me–”
You sigh and tilt your head up for him to scratch the sleep from your eye. For a moment, it’s quiet, just your face in his hand, his fingernail against the delicate inside of your eye. “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 
“Not really. Sometimes when you kick me in your sleep, maybe.” He takes back his hands. 
“You don’t care that I’m, like, constantly on you? I don’t know, like earlier, when you helped me off of the bus. Most friends wouldn’t keep holding on to each other after, but we do.” 
“Most friends wouldn’t take a nine hour bus just to see me play an away game, so…” James gives you a little poke in the ribs. “But we aren’t friends, we’re best friends. So what if we want to hold hands? That’s our business.” 
You frown. “You really don’t care? Even when I’m harassing you for hugs and stuff?” Nausea sits in your chest, waiting for him to say, Yeah, actually, the hugging is a bit much. 
“Babe, I love you,” James says, his glasses slipping down his nose as he gives a shake of the head. His eyebrows are pinched in confusion, but his mouth is softening. “How long have you been thinking about this?” 
“I just don’t want to be a burden.” 
“You’re never a burden.” He opens his arms. 
You crawl into his embrace, reassured by his chin where it digs into your forehead, and his warm voice. 
“You don’t bother me. We bother each other, right? We fight like kids. I love it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” He pauses. Hums. “‘Cept a Big Mac. I’m starving, I can’t believe we got stuck on the motorway like that.” 
“You’d trade me for a Big Mac?” 
“In a moment of weakness.” 
His smile curves against your head. His arms settle on your back. It’s the same as every other hug you’ve shared, warm and easy. “I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why you’re worried about being too much, but don’t bother. You’re touchy, I’m touchy, we’re affectionate people.” 
“I spent too long on that stupid bus,” you say, dropping your flushed face into his shoulder. 
“You definitely did. Why would I care about you hugging me too much?” His hand moves gently up and down. “You give the best hugs around.” 
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fandoms-x-reader · 2 days
Text
Period Cramps
Requested By: @olivia-willo-w
Summary: The brothers find out (thanks to Satan) what a period is and try to help you through yours. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 2,257
Periods are something that has become so normalized in the human world. 
It's a natural thing that happens to women and it shouldn’t be something to be embarrassed about.
But, in the Devildom, the only other human you had was a male. 
There was no one down there who would understand the process your body goes through once a month.
And that made it hard to talk about it.
You figured it would just be easier to keep them in the dark rather than try and explain it.
But, sometimes when you're on your period, it had a mind of its own.
You were having a bad cramp while at dinner with the brothers and you did your best to hide your pain.
But, Satan could tell you were in pain and he was worried about you. Not to mention, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to show his brothers how smart he was.
See, Satan was your resident human expert.
When he found out that a human was coming to live with him and his brothers, he read every book he could find about humans and when he was done with those, he grabbed all of the specific books about females.
He wanted to know everything he could before you got down there.
So, when you were having your period in the Devildom, Satan immediately knew what was happening and was well-versed in the subject.
You had all of the tell-tale signs - mood swings, food cravings, headaches, bloating.
Whatever symptom you had, it pointed to it being your time of the month.
There was a conversation already going on amongst his brothers, but Satan ignored it in favor of asking you, “Are you on your period?”
Everyone froze in place at Satan’s question and your face burned a bright red as all of the attention was on you. Who just asks a personal question like that?!
Satan didn’t mean any disrespect. The way it was presented to him in the books was as a natural, common thing that all women go through. So he didn’t you would have any reason to be embarrassed about it.
And maybe if he had approached you about it on his own, things would have been different. But he just blurted the question out…in front of everyone…in the middle of dinner.
Before you could even respond, Mammon asked, “What’s a period?” And your cheeks felt even hotter as you began to slowly sink down in your chair, wishing you could disappear from this conversation.
“You don’t know?” Asmo asked with a glint in his eyes. Of course, the Avatar of Lust would know what a period is. Considering the amount of human women he had probably met you were sure he was as knowledgeable as Satan was about it.
But there was no way the fourth-born would allow his little brother to take his thunder. “Allow me to explain,” Satan stated.
And for the next few torturous minutes, you had to uncomfortably sit there as Satan explained what a period was in vivid detail.
You watched the brothers’ faces go through a whirlwind of reactions until they were all left sitting there speechless and somewhat bothered.
“Well?” Lucifer’s question broke the silence and you turned to face the eldest. He was making eye contact with you and he continued to ask, “Are you?”
“Is that why you look like you’re in pain?” Belphie asked. “Wait, do periods hurt?” Beel questioned in response.
“Do all female normies go through that?” Levi questioned, his cheeks threatening to burn as bright as yours at the question.
Your cramps weren’t backing down and you were feeling more than overwhelmed at the sudden bombardment and soon everything felt like it was too much.
“I think I’ll skip dinner tonight,” you stated plainly before abruptly getting up from the table and making your way to the bedroom.
The brothers watched you leave, confused and worried about you. Was it something they said? Or was it because you weren’t feeling well?
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Lucifer was in a state of surprise when you left the dining room table.
He knew about periods, and he knew it was something female humans experienced.
But, it wasn’t something he had prepared for.
In all of the things that he had done and gathered to ensure you would have everything you need for your stay in the Devildom, that had somehow slipped his mind.
It took him a moment to gather his bearings before going to check on you.
He showed up to your room with a glass of water and medicine to help with your cramps.
He gave you a small smile when you gratefully took the medicine and allowed him in your room.
He looked a little lost, unsure of how exactly to help you. But, if you tell him what you need, he will move heaven and earth to make sure you get it.
You were his responsibility after all. He couldn’t disappoint Diavolo by allowing you to be in pain. And he couldn’t trust his brothers to do a good enough job.
Or maybe - just maybe - he wanted to be the one who took care of you.
Either way, he won’t leave your side for the rest of the night, and if you show any sign of discomfort, he’ll find a way to soothe you.
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Mammon was still freaking out about all of the information he had obtained that night.
Periods sounded awful and he couldn’t believe that it was something that happened to female humans - every month.
Mammon was trying to process everything when you left the table and that’s when his mind went from his own train of thought to you.
From all of the facts he was told, one stood out more than the others - you were in pain.
And Mammon was supposed to protect you, so he couldn’t have that.
He excused himself from the dinner table as well before quickly doing a search on his D.D.D. to find out ways to help you.
About a half an hour later, Mammon showed up at your bedroom door, his arms full of miscellaneous objects.
He had everything he could think of - a heating pad, pain medicine, chocolate, and your favorite snacks.
He wasn’t sure what out of those items would help, but he hoped at least one of them would.
He also offered to stay in your room that night and watch a movie with you, which inevitably ended in you falling asleep in his arms, while he held you close.
Mammon is just happy that you felt safe enough with him to let him help you when you’re in this vulnerable stage.
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It is a known fact that Levi panics in intense situations.
And you abruptly leaving the dinner table was something he would classify as an intense situation.
He didn't necessarily understand all of the intricacies of your period, but he did know that he wanted to help.
Levi didn't have any idea where to start, so he went to his default of bringing videogames and DVDs to your room.
You bit back a chuckle as you opened the door and saw Levi struggling to hold everything he brought.
You let him inside, grateful of the fact that he was trying and Levi quickly got to work setting up yours and his favorite game.
The fun that you were having with Levi was enough to distract you from the pain of your period cramps.
But that didn't stop him from checking in - quite often - and asking if you were alright.
Levi offered to get you food, something to drink, medicine - anything you would need.
And if you did ask him for something, he moved faster than you'd ever seen to get it back to you promptly.
He may not be an expert in what was going on with you, but he would do just as good of a job as any of the others when it came to comforting you.
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As stated, Satan was an expert on everything to do with your period before you even got it.
He didn't need to search anything up or refer to his books.
He figured this would happen sooner rather than later and he was prepared for it.
Like Mammon, Satan gets everything you need. But, unlike Mammon, it’s all already prepared in an emergency kit that he’s kept in his room.
Satan grabbed the bag and went to your room in a matter of moments.
When you opened the door, Satan offered you a brief apology about the events that occurred at dinner. He felt guilty about putting you on the spot like that.
But, he offered to make it up to you by helping relieve your pain.
When you allowed him in, Satan was as strict as a doctor, almost in an overbearing way.
He gave you the medicine to take and instructed you to lay in a way that allowed for the ideal positioning of the heating pad.
And even if it wasn’t the way you wanted to lay, when the heating pad started working, you were thankful for Satan’s expertise.
He stayed with you for the rest of the night, sitting next to you and gently running his fingers through your hair as he read one of your favorite books to you.
It ends up being much more comforting than you would have expected from the Avatar of Wrath.
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Asmo may not be like Satan or Lucifer in knowing all about a human period.
But he has had his fair share of experience with it.
And he’s a pro at rest and relaxation.
Asmo let you calm down in your room for a little bit while he set things up in own room. 
He was sure you were upset at all of them for bombarding you at dinner like that.
But, he was hoping that you would let him help you anyway.
When he was ready, he asked you to join him in his room, and after promising he wouldn’t try anything risque, you agreed to go.
When you got to his room, you were met with an overwhelming aroma of essential oils and the sound of soft music playing.
The lights were dimmed so that the room was bright enough to see, but dark enough to relax.
Under normal circumstances, you would have assumed that Asmo was trying to come on to you, but he had promised he just wanted to help.
He led you to his bed and asked for permission to give you a massage.
Being the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s knows the human body very well, and he knew every technique and every spot that needed to relax, and you felt all of your tension release and your cramps subside.
Asmo had a small smile on his face as you slowly drifted off after feeling relaxed enough.
He would always be there to help pamper you whenever you needed it.
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Beel was a bit confused when you left the table.
He didn’t really understand the gravity of the situation. 
And so, playing to his kind and innocent nature, Beel thought something was wrong with the dinner.
He quietly finished the food on his plate before disappearing from the House of Lamentation. 
When he came back, he went directly to your room with bags full of all of your favorite food. No one should skip dinner.
You had to keep yourself from laughing as Beel explained why he brought all of your favorite food and you invited him in to share the food with you.
Beel noticed the pained expression you flashed every so often and when you told him about your period cramps and how that was the reason you left dinner early, Beel wanted to do everything he could to help.
He immediately engulfed you into his arms, holding you tightly into him as his hands rubbed soothing circles onto your back.
You felt your pain slowly going away as Beel’s body warmth underneath you acted as a heating pad and his hands relieved any tension you were holding.
He might not know exactly how to help you, but he’s just as effective in soothing your cramps nonetheless.
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Belphie's help almost always came with a witty remark or some teasing no matter who you were or what the situation was.
But, for this particular situation, Belphie tried to be on his best behavior.
From what he heard, this was a hard time for you and he was certain the wrong remark would set you off.
So, he played especially nice.
He came to your room and asked you if there was anything he could do to help.
When you let him in, he asked a few questions about your period and got you a few things.
But, if that doesn't help, Belphie will escalate things.
When most people think of the Avatar of Sloth, they only think about him sleeping a lot.
They don't often recognize the power he had over other people's sleep.
And if you continue to be in pain throughout the night, Belphie will reach a point where he believes sleep is the only way to help you.
And it will be the best sleep of your life, full of amazing dreams to keep any pain of your cramps far away from you.
Naturally, Belphie will spend the night in your room, cuddling you.
But it's just to make sure you get a restful sleep the whole night!
329 notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 20 hours
Note
I was reading your leaving after a fight reaction and o got an idea could you please do one where reader leaves and goes to a bar and gets drunk they get a call from the bar and it’s just fluff
seventeen reacting to you getting drunk after a fight WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and arguments, & fluff too.
seungcheol grabs his keys, his mind racing. he can’t let you drown in this. when he arrives at the bar, he spots you immediately. you’re laughing with a group, a glass in hand. “hey!” he snaps, but the bark in his tone quickly fades as you turn to him “what the hell are you doing? this isn’t fun. you need to come home.” he tries to keep his voice steady, but the concern leaks through. “why? so we can fight more?” you roll your eyes, but u look vulnerable still. “you think you’re perfect? you’re not!” “i never said that. im just taking care of you” he bites. your eyes soften, and relief washes over him as you touch his arm, guiding him toward the door.
jeonghan's phone buzzes, cutting through his thoughts. it’s the bar, and his stomach drops. “on my way,” he snaps, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. when he arrives you turn, a grin spreading across your face that makes his heart ache. “jeonghan! come join the party!” “this isn’t a party! you need to come home y/n.” he reaches for the glass in your hand, gently prying it away. “let’s go home and talk this out. please babygirl” you hesitate, the fire in your eyes dimming as you look at him, the fight leaving your body.
joshua dont hop into the car, he throws himself in!!! he asks the bar number if you're doing okay as he drives. “there you are,” he says, pushing through the crowd. you know joshua cares too much. he’s sweet like that, always wanting to shield you from everything, even yourself. you look down at the bar top, the wood grain swirling under your fingertips. “i just... needed a break.” “from me?” he asks, sadly. you bite your lip. joshua’s expression softens, and he reaches out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “can we just talk about it? please?” u glance up, meeting his gaze, and it feels like home. “fine. but only if u promise to stop being so fucking cute when we fight.” he chuckles, relief flooding his features. “no promises, babe.”
junhui “where are you?” he texts after the call, worry oozing through the words. “out,” you reply tersely, taking another drink. “the bar? seriously?” “what if i am?” you shoot back, but inside, you know you’re pushing him away. “stay there. i’ll be there soon.” “don’t bother,” you type, but your heart sinks at the thought of him not showing up. a short while later, the door swings open, and there he is—his hair a little messy, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. he strides over, concern etched into his features. “what are you doing?” he asks, taking the seat next to you. “just enjoying my night,” you reply, a little too defensively. he raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “by drinking alone?” “i’m not alone; i have my drink,” you mutter, taking a long sip as if it could drown your frustration. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a gentle tone. “you know that’s not what i meant. you’re not okay. let me take care of you baby? hm?” you nod, feeling the walls you built starting to crumble. “fine, but if you keep looking at me like that, i might just forgive you too easily.”
hoshi wrinkled his nose the moment he smelled the strong drink you were drinking, he was clearly sweating like he was running a marathon to get to where you were. “you’re mad at me, but this isn’t how we solve things... you know you can tell me anything, right? even if it’s hard?” you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. “i just hate fighting with you. it feels like we’re always stuck in this cycle.” “i hate it too,” he admits, reaching for your hand. “but running away doesn’t fix it. let’s talk.” “talk? like, actually talk?” you tease, a small smile creeping onto your face. “yeah, that thing where we don’t just yell at each other,” he says, grinning back. “i’m pretty good at it.” you can’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood.
wonwoo slides the helmet, and hops on his motorcycle, a few moments later, the door swings open, and there he is—hands in his pockets, that serious yet soft expression making your heart ache. he spots you and makes his way over, concern etched in his features. “you’re really here,” he says, his voice low. “didn’t think you’d come,” you reply, trying to sound indifferent, but you're soft. “and leave you alone like this? not a chance.” he sits beside you, his presence instantly calming. you glance at him, catching the way his brows furrow slightly. he squeezes your hand and kisses your neck softly “let's go home, hm? i'll give u a nice warm bath and we'll talk before going to bed, is that okay, sweetie?”
woozi strides over the bar, hair messy, body stiff, eyes worried, after the call, and you can see the scolding ready to spill from his lips. “i can’t believe you left without telling me. i was worried sick. you really just left? you could’ve told me!” “ listen jihoon, i didn’t want to fight anymore. it was too much.” he flinches, he didn't mean to snap at you, but he was really worried. “i get it,” he replies quietly, his voice gentler now. “but you know you can tell me when it gets too heavy, right?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “what do u say we talk about it over ice cream? my treat,” he suggests, a playful grin breaking through. “ice cream sounds perfect,” you reply, matching his smile. “you always know how to fix things.” “it’s a talent,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, the heaviness of earlier fading into something sweet.
minghao asks the bartended to pass the phone to you, “i’m coming to get you,” minghao’s voice is steady, cutting through your haze. “you shouldn’t be there.” “i’m fine,” you snap, but even you can hear the slight slur in your words. he knows you better than that. “you’re not,” he replies. when minghao finally walks in, the door swings open, and the bell jingles, like a damn superhero coming to save the day. “hey,” he says softly, the frown on his face deepening as he takes in your state. “you look… rough.” “yeah, well, thanks for the observation,” you retort, but there’s no real bite in your words. he steps closer, the scent of him wrapping around you like a familiar hug. “i didn’t ask you to come.” “no, but you need me,” he counters, taking your hand, grounding you. his touch makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but lean into him, feeling the fight inside you melt away. “let’s talk, okay? i love you and I hate fighting with you.” you melt, and minghao smiles small.
mingyu in quesiton of minutes was there, tall and worried searching for you on the bar, the call made him stumble on his feet on his way there. “you really shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, but your heart races as he approaches, the worry etched on his face only making you want to lean into him. “and you shouldn’t be here alone. we both know you’ll feel worse if you stay out like this. just let me take care of you.” the softness in his tone makes your heart twist. “you don’t have to play the hero.” “but i want to,” he insists, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. the warmth of his grip pulls you back from the edge of your frustration, reminding you of everything you love about him. “please?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing as you look into his eyes. “fine. let’s go home.” “thank you,” he whispers, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home, before arriving in.
seokmin not even five minutes later appears on the bar, seokmin steps inside, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on you. relief floods his expression, and he rushes over, pulling you into his arms before you can say a word. “what the hell, you scared me,” he murmurs, hugging your back tightly. his warmth seeps into you, and you can’t help but melt a little. “you’re drunk.” his concern wraps around you like a blanket, and suddenly, the anger feels distant. “let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, still holding you close. “i don’t want you to feel like this.” “it’s just… everything’s a mess,” you admit, your voice cracking a bit. “we were fighting and—” “i know,” he interrupts softly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but we can talk about it later. right now, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” the sincerity in his gaze makes you want to cry, and you nod slowly. “okay.” he smiles gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s go home, yeah?”
seungkwan the minutes tick by slowly, and every time the door swings open, your heart skips a beat. finally, you spot him striding in, “it’s… it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” he says. you pout. “i can take care of myself.” “you’re making this harder than it has to be,” he grumbles. as you slide off the bar stool, he’s already there, an arm around your waist, guiding you out. you laugh, the sound a bit shaky. “u should try being less of a pain in the ass, kwanniee” you tease, but it’s soft, a flicker of something sweet cutting through the tension. he smirks, finally breaking into a grin. “noted. now, let’s get you home before you say something else you’ll regret.”
vernon would keep his emotions bottled up, when he's almost purple in worry, would run to the bar fast, breathing properly only when he finally sees you. “i don’t need you to babysit me,” you sulk when you feel him taking you from the bar stool, “just… please? for once, let me be the responsible one,” he replies squeezing your waist. “oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “i was just having a good time.” “more like trying to forget about our fight,” he counters, crossing his arms, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “let’s get you home before you embarrass yourself further.”
chan before the bartender ended the call, was already on the way. the moment he reaches you, he slips an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the noise. “you okay?” he asks, searching your face with those steady eyes. you can see the maturity in his expression, the way he balances concern in his heart with the logic, “i will be,” you say, though you know it’s not entirely trrue. his presence calms the storm brewing inside you, and u lean into him. “you’re allowed to feel things,” he expresses, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “but next time, can we talk instead of shouting? i’d rather understand what you’re going through.” you nod, the way he watches over you even after an imense fight. “yeah, that sounds good babe...” he smiles with the full of love name.
335 notes · View notes
harryslittlefreakk · 21 hours
Text
kiss it better
summary: when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n
warnings: mentions of illness and vomiting! just plain fluff other than that
wordcount: a little over 2k
a/n: in honour of me being gravely ill 😀 this is probably not very good lol whatevs!!!! i wanted to write and fluff was calling my name
masterlist
Harry glanced at his watch, frowning as he realised something was off. You were always punctual, always greeting him with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee before he even stepped into his office. But there was no sign of you. His desk was a little too tidy in the absence of your swirling handwriting on sticky notes and files. It smelled musky without the sweet coconut of your perfume to counter the dominance of his aftershave.
He set his briefcase down, pulling out his phone to dial your number. He knew he shouldn’t call you, that whatever kept you from work was obviously important, but he needed to know. The phone rang into Harry’s ear a few times before going to voicemail, his brows knitting as he left his office in search of an explanation for your absence.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out, an email pinging through to his phone almost as soon as he opened his mouth to ask where you were.
Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his heart thudding with concern, for reasons that he couldn’t quite place. You never missed work. You were always so reliable, pushing yourself even when you shouldn’t, even when Harry told you not to. If he was in the office, you were too, always leaving later than him and getting in earlier.
He stopped by a small deli as he left the office, ringing his mum in the middle of the fresh produce aisle to get her family-favourite soup recipe. Some fresh bread, vegetables, milk and teabags, medicines and ginger shots.
Harry was carried by some sort of unseen force, a desire to be the hero for a day. It wasn’t until he reached your building’s main entrance that he thought to question what he was doing.
He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving - his briefcase was still sat on his chair, his work untouched. He was skipping on his own company to show up at your door laden with supplies like he was close enough to you to be your caretaker. He shook his head gently, his out-stretched finger reaching for your buzzer before he even made his mind up on whether to stay or go.
He was at your front door a few minutes later, the groceries hanging limply in his hand as he took in your appearance, his features softening as his eyes trailed over your face. Your usually bright skin was dull and pale, your brown eyes outlined by reds and purples, the tip of your nose tinted pink, your lips dry and cracked.
“Harry? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice thick and hoarse.
You pulled your cardigan tighter around your waist, wishing the building would just collapse around you, a stray meteor would strike you down, anything to not be standing in front of your boss in your skimpy pyjamas while he looked at you like you were a wounded puppy.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
You shrugged, stepping back into your door as Harry moved towards you. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a cold.”
“Bother me?” He shook his head, stepping around you and pulling the door closed behind him. “You’re never a bother, y/n. I was worried.”
Before you could protest, he was already moving into your small kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “I bought supplies. Have you had any medicine? You go sit down and I’ll bring you some over. Tea, coffee, water?”
You looked around in a daze, your gaze flitting between the front door and Harry as your brain struggled to catch up. Medicine, supplies, tea, sick, worried. His words were buzzing around your clouded mind, your brows knitted as you stepped towards him.
“Harry, you don’t have to-” you started, but he shot you a pointed look over his shoulder. You knew that face all too well. It was the ‘I’m in charge here, and we both know it’ look that you’d seen him giving to clients and staff countless times over the past year, usually followed by a smirk in your direction.
“Sit. That’s an order,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”
You sighed but obeyed, shuffling over to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. You knew better than to argue, especially with the way your body was aching after only walking to the door and back.
“I’ve had medicine already,” you told Harry, nodding your head towards the packet on the coffee table. He padded over, reaching for the pills with a satisfied smile.
“Good girl. Where are your mugs?”
Good girl. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek, knowing instantly that you were burning up and it had nothing to do with the flu.
“Top cupboard on the left,” you muttered, your voice tiny as Harry stared down at you.
You’d found yourself in a dangerous game. It was hard enough to control yourself around Harry in the office with your wits about you, but with him in your home, apparently intent on taking care of you, calling you a good girl, you were almost ready to plan the wedding.
“Oh no.”
A sudden wave of nausea washed over you, your eyes glued to the floor as you scrambled to your feet, rushing past Harry as if he wouldn’t notice if you went fast enough. You barely made it to the toilet before the nausea overwhelmed you, your body heaving.
Within seconds, Harry was behind you. He knelt down, one hand gently pulling your hair back from your face while the other rubbed over your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.
Now you really wished someone would smite you down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, both from the force of being sick and the embarrassment of having Harry see you like this. You tried to apologise, but another wave hit, cutting you off.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.
You slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Harry stood up to wet your flannel, crouching in front of you to dab at your forehead and cheeks, his touch tender and careful, as if you might break.
The ridiculousness of it all almost made you laugh. There he was, in his thousand pound suit, his curls perfectly styled, wiping the sick from your face as you poured like a child in your Barbie pyjamas. And it was only 11am. There was plenty of time for things to get even worse for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak. “That was mortifying.”
“Hey, none of that,” Harry said firmly, but his eyes were soft as he studied your face. “You’ve taken care of every one of my needs for a year. You’re sick, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled you to your feet, keeping a tight hold of your hand as he guided you back to the sofa, fluffing your cushions before you sank down.
You closed your eyes, your body aching with fatigue and the lingering embarrassment of being so messy and vulnerable in front of your boss.
As if he could read your mind, Harry sat down beside you, his arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again, his voice ghosting over the top of your head. “Just rest. I’m not leaving.”
You let out a shuddering breath, the warmth of his body against yours easing some of the lingering chills. Slowly, the tension began to drain away, the exhaustion tugging at you. You turned slightly, pressing your face into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
He shifted, carefully adjusting his position so you could lie more comfortably against him. His fingers stroked through your hair, chills shooting straight down your spine.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m right here.”
When you didn’t respond, Harry stayed still, holding you close, his heart aching at how fragile you suddenly seemed to him. He would keep you safe, he promised to himself.
You were still glued to Harry’s side when you woke, although he’d clearly been busy while you were out cold.
His blazer was slung over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as they always were after a few hours of work. His arm was still tight around you, his free hand dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he stared and muttered at the screen.
Your lips curled into a little smile with the realisation that he’d been up and about while you slept but had still come back to cuddle you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth, covering your smirk before Harry noticed just how happy you were to wake up at his side.
His eyes snapped over to you, his eyes crinkling as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Morning, sunshine,” he teased, setting his laptop to the side.
A gasp fell from your lips as you looked beyond him for the first time since you opened your eyes, realising how little light was left. “It’s nearly dark, Harry. How long was I out?”
“A while,” he shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Your body heals while you sleep.”
You pulled away from him to sit up straight, suddenly conscious of the wet patch on his shirt, his tattoos stark against the translucent fabric. “I kept you hostage here for hours while I drooled all over you.”
“I’ll forward you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked, peering down at the mark. “I don’t mind, really. I had Tony bring my bits over,” Harry shrugged, nodding towards his laptop. “I got quite a lot done. Maybe we should work from home more often.”
“I won’t be making a habit of chucking my guts up in front of you and drooling all over you,” you whispered, your cheeks blazing hot.
“Glad to hear it, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Do you fancy eating?”
You nodded, running a hand through your wild hair. You didn’t even want to imagine what you looked like. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that you’d have to change your name and flee the country the second Harry left you alone.
But as he padded away from you, you listened to him bustling around your kitchen, the familiar clink of plates and cutlery, it felt all too comforting and all too normal.
Harry came back with a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, and a cup of tea balanced on top, a tea towel thrown over his arm. He set it down carefully on the coffee table, then sat beside you, watching as you guided a spoonful of soup past your lips.
“This is really good,” you murmured, surprised at how the warmth seemed to spread through you, easing the ache in her throat.
“Glad you like it,” he said, looking pleased. “My mums recipe. I’m half convinced your head could fall off and that soup would manage to cure it.”
You managed to eat most of the soup, under Harry’s watchful gaze. When you finished, he cleaned up quickly, then returned with a fresh cup of tea for you both and a blanket.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly as he draped the blanket over you.
He gave you a gentle smile, pulling your legs onto his lap. “I wanted to. You take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”
The energy shifted in the room, the atmosphere clouded with something unspoken. You rubbed a finger over your lips, your gaze lingering on Harry as he traced patterns over your skin.
He glanced over at his laptop, pushing the screen closed. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a movie,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “What’s your favourite?”
You shrugged, turning your attention to the tv. “I always watch Harry Potter when I’m sick.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barbie pyjamas and Harry Potter. Maybe I don’t know everything about you.”
“Simple pleasures,” you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
As the movie played, the sky gradually darkened, the light from the screen casting soft shadows across the room. You’d pulled your legs from Harry’s lap at some point, sinking into the sofa beside him as you sipped at your tea. He kept his eyes on you as you put the mug back down, then without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.
You hesitated for a moment before relaxing against him, your head resting on his shoulder. It felt more natural earlier, when you were still dazed and cloudy and overwhelmed with embarrassment. It still felt right, comforting and familiar, but you were so much more aware of your proximity now. Still, when Harry’s hand began to rub slow, soothing circles on your arm, you melted into him.
You glanced up at him after a minute, catching his profile in the flickering light. His eyes were focused on the screen, but there was a softness to his expression, a tenderness that made your heart flutter.
He must have sensed your gaze, because he looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours. For just a moment, the movie, the room, the soft pounding of your head all faded away.
Harry’s hand stilled on your arm, his fingers lingering as if unsure of what they wanted to do next. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin.
“Y/n..” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost hesitant, as if he were seeking permission.
Your breath caught, your heart quickening. You pushed your head against his touch, just the slightest movement, your eyes never leaving his.
That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Leaning in slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss so soft and gentle it was almost like the ghost of a breath against your skin. His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his touch careful, still so gentle as if he was scared he’d break you.
But his kisses were sweet, unhurried, and full of something you couldn’t put into words. He kissed you like he was savouring every moment, like he thought it might be the only time he’d ever feel your lips against his. You felt your whole body surrender to him, enveloped in the warmth and care of his touch.
“You’re going to get sick,” you whispered when he pulled back, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip.
He leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, then one to your temple, his arms tightening around you as you buried your head in his chest. “I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to end up catching your germs anyway. At least I got to do that,” Harry murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.
You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the movie forgotten. The world outside didn’t matter, the weight of how shitty you felt didn’t matter, the impending infection you’d passed to Harry didn’t matter. In the quiet shadows of the evening, you snuggled closer, feeling his heart beat steadily against you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly content.
“Stay with me?” you murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Of course,” he promised, his lips brushing over your hair.
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @triski73 @meetmeintheemeraldpool @harryshousewitnessprotection @danaehldy @fairytale07 @storyschanging @wannaliveinparadise @mrs-anna-styles211994 @mema10 @fangirl509east @devilsqueen722
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bluejutdae · 3 days
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Perv!Roommate Jeongin | Jeongin x you
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notes: sequel of this. I hate it, but eh. Might delete it in the future..
PervRoomate!Jeongin whose jealousy is slowly making him spiral out of control. Now that he has tasted you, the thought of anyone else getting too close drives him mad. When you go back home and talk about your day, he listens carefully for any male names that come up. Your coworkers, your friends, the guy at the coffee shop who paid for your drink… they’re all threats trying to take you away from him. So he starts to “accidentally” show up in places he knows you’ll be at. “Oh, you come here too?” and “was it tonight that you planned to come see a movie here?”
PervRoomate!Jeongin who, anytime he sees you talking a little too cozy with another guy, jokes saying you’re cheating on him, that you shouldn’t flirt with others. It’s an inconvenience for you, but you can’t deny the shiver that went through you from the possessiveness of his words. He starts manipulating you when you consider making plans. He looks at you like a puppy and convinces you to tell your friends you’re busy, guilt tripping you into staying home with him, because “I just miss spending time with you, jagi. Don’t you care about me?”
PervRoomate!Jeongin who has no remorse when he gaslights you, telling you agreed to watch that movie with him. And no remorse when he lies, pretending to be sick the moment  you’re about to go out with someone. How can you abandon your roommate-slash-fuck buddy when he feels like that? The same night, after he convinces you to sleep in his bed because he feels too cold, he smiles to himself. Once words about you being unavailable spread at work and among your friends, the competition will be destroyed. 
PervRoomate!Jeongin starts to leave marks on your body, where they’re most visible. Hickeys on your neck, a bite mark on your shoulder. It’s his way of marking you, another proof that you’re his and no one else’s. He gets a twisted satisfaction from seeing the marks he left on your skin. And the display of ownership doesn’t bother you too much. It’s just something silly, right? It’s not real ownership.
PervRoomate!Jeongin who plays the victim any time you two argue, and he makes you feel guilty. “I was only looking after you. That skirt was really short. You know how many perverts are on the train, right?” He’s pushy, yes, but he only wants you to be safe, right? Sometimes, after a fight, he seems so hurt by it. “I just care about you so much, can’t you see that?” Of course you can see it. And when he kisses you, you reassure him, you kiss him, and inevitably you spend the evening together in bed. 
PervRoomate!Jeongin always fucks you harder after a fight, more possessive, and more marks litter your body the day after that. A collar of bruises on your neck, a clear sign of STAY AWAY FROM HER, clear to everyone but you. When he has you on your knees, fucking you from behind, with you back pushed against his chest, he whispers “you’re mine. All mine. No one else can have you like I do.” But you never worry, people say all sorts of things while having sex, and you’ve always loved some dirty talk.
PervRoomate!Jeongin that, now that has access to your body, your attention and your underwear drawers, wants more. “If we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we should get married”. But if things go his way, neither of you will be single…
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maidragoste · 1 day
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hey hun! im sorry for your loss and i saw u post abt needing distracting. so could u write a jace x reader? it could be any plot you want whatsoever and could it be a modern au? as well fluffy! is that okay?
Hi, how are you?
Thank you for your message 💖 I'm sorry it took me so long to upload your request (in the end it cost me more than I thought to recover and then university and trying to find a job overwhelmed me) but I hope you like the result 🥰💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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It hadn't really been Jacaerys' intention to wait for you to come back from your date. He should be doing some college work but instead, he's watching TV without paying attention to it thinking about how the hours are passing and you still haven't come home. Your date should be fun if you don't text Jace anymore. Jace shouldn't be worried about you because he knew Rhaena would never have set you up with an idiot but he still couldn't help being worried.
Jacaerys wanted you to come home and see if you were okay. It would hurt him to hear the details of your date and see you all excited about another boy but he would bear it.
If only Jace wasn’t afraid of ruining things between you two then he would have taken you out himself after hearing you complain about how your love life is dead instead of letting Rhaena set you up with one of her friends. But Jacaerys is sure that you don’t see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t want to risk losing you so he doesn’t make a move. He's content with being able to be in your life, with the chaotic mornings of the two of you getting ready before going to class, with your text messages telling him everything that happens to you during the day, with the nights cooking together and with the breaks where you watch series snuggled together on the couch.
Jacaerys looks away from the TV as he hears the keys clicking into the lock. You walk in and Jace feels a pit in his stomach because you don’t look excited, you look defeated? Your eyes meet his and you give him a tired smile but you quickly break eye contact to take off your coat and sneakers and then run to the couch with him.
“So you wanna talk about it?” Jacaerys doesn’t even finish asking how much you’re already talking.
“It was fine. He’s nice and we talked for hours. Everything was going well until the end because he tried to kiss me.” If you hadn’t been busy fidgeting nervously you would have noticed how your roommate seemed to tense up all of a sudden. “I declined and he wasn’t bothered but it was awkward.” You sighed.
“Why did you reject him? Are you the kind of person who has a rule of not kissing on the first date?”
“Because I don’t like him” you declared, suddenly looking up and for a moment, at the intensity of your gaze, Jace forgot to breathe. “I could be his friend, but I’m not interested in him in any other way.”
“Oh” was the only thing that came out of the surprised man’s mouth.
“Oh,” you repeated, “Why did you wait for me, Jace?”
“Who said I was waiting for you? I was watching TV” he denied instantly.
“Jace”
Seeing your beautiful eyes looking at him pleadingly for a moment, Jace was afraid to give in and confess everything to you, as for more than a year he can’t stop thinking about you and wants to be more than your friend. But again, he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable and losing your friendship, so he asks instead.
“What does that have to do with you not liking your date?”
“While I was with him I realized that I actually wanted to be home with you” you confessed and instantly regretted it when you saw that he remained silent. “Forget it. I'm sorry for making it weird” You got up ready to go to your room so you could have a crisis alone about ruining your friendship with Jace when he took you by the hand and pulled you causing you to end up on top of him.
“Oh no, I don’t plan on forgetting it, not when I’ve been pining for you for over a year,” he stated making you smile.
“You’re a coward,” you mocked without malice. “Over a year and you never made a move. You’re lucky I decided to act.”
“You’re right,” he said smiling unbothered. “Now that we’ve established that I’m a fool and you’re the best, can I kiss you?” he asked and you laughed feeling delighted with him.
“Try not to sound so desperate to kiss me.”
“Can you blame me?” He arched an eyebrow, any embarrassment or fear he felt disappearing the moment he knew his feelings were reciprocated. “I thought a lot about kissing you and I finally have the chance.”
At his confession, you felt heat on your face and your smile grew. “You're such a fool.” You took his face in your hands and felt your heart warm at the softness with which Jace looked at you.
The moment your lips touched his Jacaerys knew he would become addicted to your kisses. He would look for any excuse to kiss you as many times as he wanted. You would probably become the clingy couple that his friends would make fun of. But he didn't care and he didn't think you would either because you were kissing him with the same intensity.
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Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works
@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson @jacesvelaryons @pictureofcaroline
hotd masterlist
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artificialbreezy · 3 days
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i’ve had this thought/au in my head for a long while now tbh so i thought i’d share it with you.
Pairing: Camboy!Noah x fem reader
CW: not much tbh, smut LMAO
NSFW under the cut ◡̈
Noah was very honest with you when you guys first started talking. He was a sex worker. He expressed he never collaborated with anyone, it was all solo content and you had nothing to worry about and he swore he’d protect your privacy if you guys ended up dating.
He’s an absolute sweetheart to you, all the time. It was a surprise when you decided to watch a stream he was doing and hearing all the mean, filthy things coming from his mouth.
As time went on, he always mentioned doing things together in his stream and keeping you hidden. Whether you’re on the other side of the room playing with your cunt while he’s talking you through and they don’t know he’s talking you through it. Or under his desk, cock down your throat while he’s talking to the chat about how fucking good this feels, and how close he is.
Tonights stream? Fleshlight.
You're kneeled under his desk, touching yourself while gagging on his cock. He's made you promise not to make a noise. He just told his chat he's using a toy. Which wasn't exactly a lie. But you've already broken your promise, and you can’t be bothered to feel guilty for it. Not when he’s fucking your throat that good.
"Oh, fuck, that feels so good," he groans. Little dings notify you of his comments. He rubs your head gently in praise, bucking his hips. "Oh, good girl.”
You’ve learned that it wasn't uncommon for him to speak towards his chat like that, giving things a little life to be more interactive.
Tapping against your ear, a silent question to make sure you’re still comfortable.
You’re a little envious of the view the chat has, you’d love nothing more than to see his beautiful face scrunched up, head thrown back as he reaches his end. Your tongue moves along the underside of his cock, dragging up to his leaking tip. Hearing his gasp sends a low chuckle from you. Making his hips force their way down your throat.
“Fuck, this is my favorite fleshlight. Always treats me so fucking good.”
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marvelsmylife · 2 days
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An unconventional love story
Pairing: Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader
Plot: when you fall pregnant with your husband's child. Rhysand, along with his brothers and your brothers must put their differences aside to help save your life
Masterlist
Request
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You and Rhysand didn’t have a storybook love story. You were arranged to get married because your father wanted more power and all but sold you to Rhysand. You could tell this was just a business transaction for Rhysand so you didn’t bother trying to get to know him at first. Fortunately for you, the courtship lasted three years before your actual wedding. The courtship was painfully awkward at the beginning. 
While you and Rhys didn’t speak unless you were forced to, you ended up forming a close friendship with Mor. Yes, it was awkward at first, seeing as she had a bad relationship with your oldest brother. You reassured her you weren’t like him and slowly gained her trust. She, in turn, would encourage Rhysand to talk to you more and get to know you better.
Rhysand would take what his cousin said to heart and would try to get to know you better. Of course, you were walking on eggshells and overall awkward when you were in the same room together. He knew you initially didn’t want to marry him but was willing to do it for the sake of your father and your court. 
He asked you repeatedly if you were sure about getting married because he didn’t want to force you if you genuinely didn’t want to go through with the marriage. “Yes,” I would almost shout in response, “it’s just that this is all new to me. I’ve never even had my first kiss yet because of how controlling my father is. I feel like won’t be enough for you.”
Rhysand sighed at your explanation and ended up pulling you into an embrace, “You are enough for me. If I’m being honest, I was the one to suggest this marriage to your father and hid it as a business transaction because I got wind he was planning on marrying you off to one of Keir’s men.” 
Rhysand shuttered as he recalled that night vividly. Rhysand was walking through the halls of Hewn City when he overheard Keir and your father's voice. “Don’t worry, her maidenhood is still intact. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet” your father said and Rhysand found himself clenching his fist. He couldn’t believe your father was willing to marry you off to someone as sleazy as one of Keir’s men. That’s when he walked in and offered to marry you in exchange for an alliance between your courts. Your father was all too eager to accept Rhysand’s offer.
Letting out a sigh I replied, “Honestly I’m not surprised. Although, I’m a little happier knowing I’m marrying you and not one of Keir’s men,” I scrunched up my nose, “you’re way more attractive than any of them.”
A smirk appeared on Rhysand’s face at your words, “You think I’m attractive?”
“We’ll yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you answered honestly “I’d much rather marry you than marry any of Keir’s men.”
Rhysand laughed softly at your comment and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “You are something else y/n. I can’t wait to marry you.”
You felt your face growing hot at Rhysand’s words. “Can I ask for a favor?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. Rhysand nodded and you continued, “Could you kiss me? I don’t want to have my first kiss to happen in front of everyone at our wedding.”
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your request but complied. He cupped your face before leaning in and kissed you. It was short and sweet but you found yourself smiling by the end. “There. Now your first kiss won’t be in front of hundreds of fae” Rhysand smiled down at you.
“Thank you,” you smiled up at Rhysand, “and I promise I’ll be a perfect wife for you.”
“I don’t want you to be perfect,” Rhysand replied, “I just want you to be happy in our marriage. My parents didn’t have a happy marriage and although I’m technically marrying you without you having a say. I do want you to be happy in our marriage.”
You gave Rhysand a genuine smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. “I can already tell I’m going to be happy in our marriage,” you held onto each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and saying your goodbyes. Not realizing the next time you would see each would be at your wedding.
Your first time with Rhysand was surprisingly great for both of you. It was no secret that Rhysand wasn’t a virgin when you started courting, but you were. Your father wanted you to be pure for your future spouse so he would execute any males who would dare show interest in you. Your father was proud of himself as he announced it in front of everyone at the wedding reception.
While you wanted to crawl into a hole and die at your father’s words, so Rhysand reached over and held your hand to comfort you. “It’s going to be ok” Rhysand whispered to you to try and calm you down.
After the reception, you and Rhysand made your way to the private residence your father bought for this specific moment. You were in the bathroom getting ready to consummate your marriage. Once you were ready, you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Rhys lying down on the extravagantly large bed. There was no doubt it was designed specifically to accommodate his large wings.
Your breath hitched as you noticed Rhysand checking you out. You felt the urge to cover yourself at his stare but opted not to because you knew he was now allowed to stare at you in that manner. “Um,” I paused “as you know, I haven’t been with anyone so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whispered as you played with your fingers.
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and got up from the bed, before walking over to where you were standing. “It’s ok, little red. I’ll guide you through this,” Rhysand ran his finger against your cheek before settling it on your waist.
You start breathing heavily as Rhysand pulls the straps of your white, lace nightgown; making it drop on the floor. Your long red hair cascaded over your breasts, “Wow” Rhysand whispered as he saw your bare chest. Feeling self-conscious, you tried to cover your, but Rhysand stopped you. “Never hide yourself from me,” Rhysand whispered as he removed your hands before pushing your hair back so he could see your breasts “They’re beautiful.”
A low groan escaped from Rhysand’s lips as he ran his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your heart started racing as Rhysand took one of your nipples into his mouth and began to suck on it. “Do you like that?” Rhysand asked as he held onto you possessively.
“Yes” I whimpered softly as you ran your hands through Rhysand’s raven-black hair, “I really like it.”
Rhysand groaned at your actions and decided to lift you by your thighs and carry you to the bed. His eyes were glued to you as he laid you down on the bed. “I’m going to make this a night you’ll never forget.”
You smiled as Rhysand took his time and worshipped your body. He spent a solid thirty minutes between your legs, getting you ready for his cock. He made sure he talked to you the entire time to make you feel comfortable. Once he knew you were prepared, Rhysand lined his cock against your entrance “Relax, ok?” You gave a small nod before he carefully slid into you slowly. “Fuck. You’re so deliciously tight,” Rhysand groaned as he tried to control himself so he didn’t slam in all at once. 
“It still hurts,” You shut your eyes as tight as you could as Rhysand’s cock stretched you out.
Rhysand heart hurt at your cry, “I know sweetie, but it’ll pass and you’ll feel good. Just like before with my tongue. You just have to relax your body.”
You tried what Rhysand said and relaxed while he continued to insert his cock fully inside you. Once he was, he remained still for several seconds as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you and only wanted to continue when you gave him the ok. After a few minutes, you were able to fully relax and whisper into his ear, “You can start moving.”
Rhysand looked you in your eyes to make sure you were ok before he slowly started to move inside you carefully. He could tell you were still uncomfortable so he started kissing your neck in an attempt to distract you. It worked because slowly your whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. “You feel amazing y/n.”
“Rhys” you panted as you began to dig your nails into his back. Hearing his name slip out of your lips only encouraged Rhysand to pick up his pace while his hands roamed your body. “It feels so good,” you shut your eyes as you let yourself get consumed with pleasure.
Soft cries of pleasure and groans filled the room as you and Rhysand made love that night. By the end Rhysand had you lying on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings into your ears. “Thank you for being gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my maids about how horrible some males get when they’re being intimate with a female.”
Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and held you close. “I will never hurt you. You are my wife, my equal and I will show you nothing but respect during our marriage,” with that Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead before both of you drifted off to sleep.
From that night forward yours and Rhysand’s relationship changed for the better. You were no longer awkward around each other. You often sought each other out and constantly had to be touching. He also had to explain to you that you had to put on a mean persona whenever you had to visit the Hewn City. He explained he created a mean persona so the people in Hewn City would fear him.
Fortunately for him, you mastered the mean persona while living with your father in the autumn court. You had to toughen up at a young age because most of your brothers would bully you for being the only female among them. The only brothers you genuinely got along with were Eris and Lucien. Eris because he didn’t see you as a threat and Lucien because you were his baby sister and felt more of an urge to protect than bully. 
You loved Lucien so much for being so kind to you growing up, that he was the first to find out you were pregnant.
It was a warm summer evening when he came over for his weekly visit. He immediately knew something was different about you but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until he was up close when could see your glowing face that he realized you were pregnant. “I’m so excited for you, baby sister. I know you will be an amazing mother,” Lucien exclaimed as Rhysand entered the room. Lucien then proceeds to hug Rhys and tell him he’s happy for him as well.
Unfortunately, the joyous news was short-lived when Madja informed Rhysand in private that the baby had wings. Rhysand silently cursed himself because he had a feeling that was going to happen. He had tried for months to try to convince you not to have kids. He disguised it as he saw them as a burden, but in reality, he wanted nothing more than to have a mini version of the two of you. You ultimately got your way and managed to convince Rhysand that you guys needed an heir for the nigh court.
Ever since that revelation, Rhysand would silently panic about how he was going to tell you that your baby would most likely kill you. He would think back to the old version him, the one who wouldn’t have cared for your well-being. He often wished he could punch that old version of him and tell him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Seeing as he’s come to love and cherish you, he couldn’t bring himself to think of a world where you’re not in it.
As weeks passed and was running out of options on how to save both your life, Rhysand finally goes to Eris and Lucien for help. They were both rightfully mad that Rhysand hid this from not only them but also you. “How could you keep this from our sister? Our sister might die because of you.” Eris scolded your husband as Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien winced.
“You don’t think I know that!” Rhysand barked back as he ran his hands over his face, “I tried, I tried hard to convince her not to have a child but she was very persistent.” Rhysand found himself breaking down as the realization that you might die hit him, “I-we can’t let that happen. That’s why I called you guys. I need your help finding a way to save my wife’s life.”
Both Eris and Lucien’s anger disappeared once they heard Rhysand’s pleas. “I’ll ask around the other courts. Hopefully one of them knows something that can help us,” Eris gave Rhysand a weak smile.
“I’ll ask around the mortal lands. See if they somehow know something,” Lucien added. He walked up to his brother-in-law and patted his shoulder, “We’re going to figure this out and save my sister, ok?” Rhysand nodded as all five males in the room began working together to save your life.
Months quickly passed by with little to no progress on how to help you. Time ran out one morning when your water finally broke while you were gardening outside. “Rhys ! ! !” you shouted at you clenched your stomach, “it’s time, the baby is coming.”
Rhysand appeared by your side in a matter of seconds and guided you to your bed before calling out to Madja. “It’s going to be ok, my darling y/n,” Rhysand kissed the top of your head as he helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown.
Meanwhile, in the day court, Eris was thanking Helion for managing to find a tonic that would help you deliver the babe without harming both of you. “Thank you for your help. The autumn court is in your debt.” Eris informed Helion.
“Don’t worry about it. Y/n has become a good friend ever since she and Rhys got married,” Helion smiled before Eris left for the night court.
Fortunately for everyone, you were still in the early stages of your delivery when Eris arrived and rushed to your side. “Drink this,” Eris uncapped the tonic and gave it to you. You gave him a funny look before he angrily said. “Drink this.”
“Ok, you don’t have to be rude,” you took the tonic before handing the empty bottle back to Eris. “Why did you-oh” Your face morphed for a few seconds as you felt something change within your body.
Rhysand, Eris, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all watched carefully. Rhysand bent down and got ahold of your hand, “my love, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “I felt as if my body changed” You looked over at Madja and began to panic, “did something bad happen to my baby?”
Madja rushed over and examined you, “Mother above, I didn’t think this would be possible,” Madja whispered before looking up at you, “yes, it looks like the baby is ok. It’s just that your anatomy changed so you’ll be able to deliver the baby properly.” Madja looked over at Eris “I don’t know what you gave her, but you just saved her’s and the babe's life.”
Eris had a small smile on his face at Madja’s words as he watched from the side as you gave birth to your child. 
You smiled down at your baby boy, who happened to have his father’s skin complexion and violet eyes with your fiery red hair and your nose. “He’s perfect” you gushed as you held your son in your hands. You looked up and noticed everyone staring at you and the baby, “do you want to hold your son, Rhysand?”
Rhysand was more than happy to hold his son while Lucien bent down next to you and kept repeating how happy and proud he was of you. “You did good y/n. That is the most precious babe I’ve ever seen. He’s going to be so loved by us and the two courts his parents are from.”
“Thank you, Lucien. You and Eris,” you look over at Eris who was also knelt down beside you, “are the best brothers anyone can ask for.” 
Lucien gently kissed your hand before him and Eris backed up and Rhysand take their place. “Look at him. He’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up,” Rhysand bent down so he was close to you while holding our child.
“He better not. He’s going to respect females from a very young age,” you laughed as you placed your hand on top of Rhysand’s.
In that instant, both you and Rhysand felt the mating bond snap between the two of you. “Would you look at that?” Rhysand chuckled “It only took you giving birth to our son for the mating bond to snap into place for us.”
You let out a soft laugh as Rhysand handed you back the baby so you could nurse him. “I love you, Rhys.”
“I love you too, my darling y/n” Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand. Content that not only did he still have you in his life, but that your baby boy was here as well and he was healthy.
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chris-prank · 3 days
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First off I love your writing so much
Second- Esteban with a reader who doesn’t like sex but loves biting hard enough to draw blood like
“Oh you have to go somewhere? Cool just come here rq” *bites*
Thank you! 😆❤️❤️❤️ it always make me so happy to know that people appreciate it! 
CW: Mention of sex (more the lack of it lol) 
Esteban is a little freak, so biting is the type of thing that turns him on instantly. BUT DON'T WORRY he won’t act upon his feelings if he knows that you don’t like sex! Even if it makes him all hot and bothered, he’s just happy that you're showing him affection in your own way! 
(When you’re done using him like a chew toy, he might need some alone time though.) 
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
Esteban let out a small moan the moment your teeth sank into his tender flesh. But soon, he felt the embarrassment flood his mind as he realized what he did. 
“S-sorry for m-making… noises.” Esteban whimpered apologetically while you kept biting him without remorse, “y-you know how it makes m-me feel, it’s not fair…” 
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luveline · 3 days
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this may sound crazy, but i have really bad OCD in terms of cleanliness. for example, always need clean clothes (has to be exactly “correct” level of clean), hand wash always over and over, i also don’t like anyone sitting or laying in my bed uncleaned or in outside clothes.
eddie is, well eddie. how do you think he would react to a gf or potential gf that has this same issue?
You can’t wear the same sweatshirt twice, you can’t not wash your hands three times before dinner. He doesn’t think much of it, to be totally honest. Eddie’s been called weird his whole life, and he knows that behaviour like yours is out of the ordinary, so he refuses to make you feel bad about it. 
“Sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay,” he says, putting his backpack on the floor. You’re wringing your hands nervously in front of the bed, having just told him Please don’t sit on my bed. I can’t– It’s the contamination, it’s not you.
He unzips his backpack to unveil the extra clothes he brought with him. “I got these fresh out of the washer, but if it’s still not alright, I can just sit on the floor.” 
“Eddie, I’m not gonna make you sit on the floor.” Something in your expression softens. “You promise they’re clean?” 
“They still smell like detergent, but it doesn’t bother me. I can sit on the floor. Or at your desk?” 
“You can’t sit on the floor, Eddie. If they’re really clean, you can come and sit with me.” You smile weakly. “I want you to sit with me. I can’t deal with the idea of, like, your outside clothes on my bed, that’s all.” 
“That’s fine.” He makes sure not to put the clean clothes against his chest. “I get it, babe, the van is gross, pollution is disgusting, I’m gonna save the world for you to make it less icky. Can I get changed?” 
Your smile strengthens. “Yeah, course you can. I won’t look, much.” 
“Much!” Eddie’s joy at your teasing is palpable. 
He changes. You don’t watch, but you don’t avert your eyes either, which Eddie thinks is a good sign. It’s a little nerve wracking to be standing there in his boxers and socks while you’re fully clothed, until you smile at him with your face in your hand and he remembers how sweet you are.
“How many tattoos do you have?” 
“You don’t know?” he asks. 
“I’ve seen them all. Just never counted.” 
Eddie puts his worn clothes in his backpack and sits on your rug to change his socks. “I have sixteen.” 
“What?” you ask incredulously.
“I’m counting the bats separately.”
“Of course you are.” 
He springs up, squeezing the hand sanitiser on your desk into his two palms, and cleaning down to the middle of his forearms. Then, when they’re cold from the air in your room but mostly dry, he meanders his way to your side, giving you a long and loving stare. “You look really pretty when you do that.” 
“Do what?” 
“When you hold your face. Can I…” 
You lean back. He replaces your hand with his own, rubbing a soft path into your cheek. “I can’t believe you sanitised for me,” you say with a smile that’s half embarrassed and half pleased. “Thank you.” 
“Thanks for what?” He strokes your cheek back. The soft skin there pulls. “I should be saying thanks, do you know how big of a deal it is, to get to touch you? I’m on cloud nine. I feel like such a fucking winner.” 
Your nose crinkles as you laugh. “Very passionate.” 
“I’m saying goodbye to grunge. No more unwashed jackets or crust pants, I swear. I even cleaned behind my ears.” 
“You weren’t cleaning behind your ears?” 
He leans down to touch your nose tip with his. His eyes close, but not before he sees your nice smile. Getting to be here joking with you in your bedroom is worth sanitising his hands, are you kidding? He’d do a full body bleach bath three times a day if it meant he got to breathe the same air as you. 
“Tell me if I do something gross, okay? I know you think about things a lot, I just need you to tell me.” 
“I don't want you to get caught up in my stupid rules.” 
“They’re not stupid.” He noses at your cheek, his lips touching skin as he speaks, “Don’t worry about it. Tonight’s about you and me and the Amityville Horror.” 
“Okay, I won’t. I won’t worry.” Your breath warms his lips.
He kisses your cheek gently, a quiet thank you. It’s nice to be trusted with something as important and intrinsic to you as this, nicer to be touching you. He can’t believe he’s allowed. 
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simplygojo · 2 days
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Moment on the Bench
Authors Note: This is the first bonus blurb of the The Devil He Made Me series!! This one is Gojo's POV of a scene from Chapter 6, the scene on the bench...IYKYK, lol. This can also be read on its own if, so pleaase enjoy!
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Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection ; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @0-m1; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: light tensionnn
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Gojo leaned back on the bench, the words that had just passed between you hanging in the cool evening air like a mist he couldn’t quite shake. His eyes, peaking over his sunglasses, were locked on yours as you sat beside him, close enough that your legs almost touched.
There was an odd tension between you, one he wasn’t used to. Usually, he could brush off anything with a joke, keep his distance emotionally, but tonight felt... different.
"Curses sense things in people," he had said, his voice softer than usual. "Sometimes for a reason, sometimes because they catch on to something we don’t even realize."
He felt a small shiver run down his spine as he heard you ask, your voice tinged with fear, "So what do you think it meant then…when it said it’s ‘almost time for me’?"
Gojo paused for a moment, staring at her. His gaze lingered longer than usual, which wasn’t like him.
The carefree glint in his eyes seemed to dull, replaced by something more intense, something he didn’t fully understand. You looked back at him, your own confusion and fear mirroring in your eyes, but Gojo couldn’t shake the strange pull he felt towards you. It was confusing.
The setting sun cast an orange glow over your face, and as he watched you, he couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable you looked—yet strong in a way he couldn’t explain. He felt something stir inside him, something unfamiliar. A feeling he couldn’t name—one he didn’t want to name.
He tilted his head toward the darkening sky, searching for words, or maybe a distraction from whatever this was. But it didn’t come. He just felt... lost.
"I wish I knew," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than usual, almost gentle. "But what I do know is that curses don’t just say things for no reason. Especially not special grades like that. Something’s up."
It bothered him—how he didn’t have all the answers, how he couldn’t brush this off with his usual cocky arrogance. It wasn’t just the curse’s cryptic message; it was the way you were looking at him, the way your fear seemed to seep into his own thoughts, twisting them, making him feel something he couldn’t quite define.
You sat beside him, and the small gap between you suddenly felt enormous, yet too close all at once. The warmth from you body made him hyperaware of your presence in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. Normally, he would’ve laughed it off, thrown in a flirty comment, but tonight…his mind was somewhere else.
“Whatever it saw in you,” he continued, trying to regain some control over the situation, “you really don’t need to worry about it—you shouldn’t worry about it at least.”
But even as he said it, Gojo could feel the weight of the words. He wanted to protect you. That’s what this was, right? Just his usual protective instinct? You was important—you had to be protected, that’s all this was. 
He told himself that over and over, but something in his chest twisted uncomfortably. It felt like a lie.
And then you snapped.
“You’re really telling me not to worry!?” Your voice was heated, frustration bubbling over. Gojo didn’t flinch, but inside, something tensed. You was right—he knew that. He’d felt it too, the way that curse had singled you out, the cryptic warning that had set his mind on edge. But more than that, he hated how hearing your voice laced with anger affected him.
He tried to respond—his mind was racing, searching for the right words, for the usual quick-witted retort he always relied on. It was his defense, his shield against anything too serious, too real. 
He was waiting for an opening, a chance to steer the conversation back to familiar ground, where he could mask everything with a smile, a tease, something lighthearted. 
But the moment you yelled his name, something inside him shifted.
It wasn’t just the sound of it, though that alone felt like a jolt straight to his core. No, it was the way you said it—so full of frustration, maybe even anger, but laced with something else he couldn’t quite place. The way you called out his name, not ‘Gojo’ like everyone else, but Satoru—it was personal. 
Intimate, in a way that startled him.
His breath caught in his throat, the sharpness of your voice slicing through his usual cool exterior. 
He’d been so used to brushing everything off, playing it safe behind that mask of nonchalance. 
But now, hearing his name like that, the walls he’d carefully built over the years felt weaker, as if you had just reached in and pulled at the strings that held them together.
“I don’t like it when you say it like that.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the sadness in his tone catching him off guard. What the hell was this? Why did it bother him so much that you said his name like that—so angry, so distant?
Your confusion mirrored his own, your frustration disappearing as you looked at him, stunned. 
“Satoru?” You said, your voice softer now, more like how you usually said it. And just hearing his name like that again sent a strange warmth through him, a feeling he didn’t know how to process.
“Yes, when you’ve said it before, you said it so nicely, so softly, it sounded so good hearing my name come from you.”
His own words surprised him, and for a moment, Gojo felt raw, exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. Vulnerability wasn’t something he dealt with. It wasn’t something he could deal with—at least, not well. He always had his humor, his arrogance, his strength to shield him. 
But now, in this moment, sitting here beside you, none of that seemed to work.
There was a long pause, the weight of his confession sinking into the silence between you. 
He felt your eyes on him, searching for something in him he wasn’t sure he could give. His pulse quickened, and Gojo, the invincible, the strongest sorcerer alive, suddenly felt small, unsure.
The space between you shrank, and though he hadn’t moved, it felt as if the air itself was pulling you closer together. He reached out before he even realized what he was doing, his hand gently resting above your knee. 
Your warmth seeped into his fingertips, grounding him in a way that felt both foreign and necessary. The moment his palm made contact, a surge of warmth radiated from your skin, grounding him in a way that felt both foreign and deeply necessary.
Your warmth wasn’t just physical—it seemed to seep into him, anchoring him in the present, something he wasn't used to.
“I’m telling you not to worry because I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice low and serious. The promise in his words felt heavier than he intended, more intimate. There was something unspoken there, something that went beyond duty or protection, but he couldn’t put a name to it. 
It scared him—how deep that feeling ran.
You looked at him, your breath catching as your eyes met again, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you. Gojo’s heart raced, an unfamiliar sensation tightening in his chest. 
His gaze flickered down to your lips, slightly parted in an ‘o’ shape. He tried to hold your eyes—tried to keep the casual confidence intact—but his attention faltered for a split second, and his eyes dipped lower.
They lingered, just for a moment, on your lips. The briefest glance, yet it was enough to ignite something in him, a spark he hadn’t anticipated. His mind raced ahead, imagining what it would feel like to close the distance between you, to let this strange tension unfold into something real. The thought lingered longer than it should have, and his gaze snapped back up to meet yours.
But the damage was done. Now, that image was burned into his mind—what it might be like if he let himself give in, if he let the weight of this unspoken tension pull him forward. 
But then, as if sensing the line he desperately wanted to cross, you pulled away.
“Thanks for your help,” you said, your voice awkward, as if trying to erase the moment. You shifted, the connection between them breaking, as you yanked your legs away, and Gojo blinked, the intensity of the moment fading, leaving him feeling... empty.
He chuckled, his usual smirk returning to his face as he leaned back on the bench. "Right... You never have to worry when you’re around me. I’m the best the jujutsu world has to offer."
But even as the words left his mouth, they felt hollow.
But as you stood up in front of him, something about the way you looked down at him made his bravado falter just a bit. 
He didn't show it, of course—he never did. He just leaned back, his arms spread casually over the length of the bench, his gaze lazily following your movements. His eyes lingered on you—on the way the soft light from the nearby lamppost illuminated your figure, casting a gentle glow over your skin. 
You were standing so close, so pretty in front of him, and for a brief moment, he felt an odd flutter in his chest, like something shifting under the surface.
“Well, I’m gonna get going,” you said, and his gaze snapped back to your face. “Shoko says I should still be resting when I can.” 
You gestured toward the direction of the dorms, and Gojo just nodded, his usual smirk still in place. He watched you for a moment longer, letting his head tilt back slightly against the bench, trying to play it cool even as his heart felt strangely off-beat.
"Goodnight, Satoru," you said, and that’s when it hit him.
The way you said his name—soft, almost teasing, with a knowing smile—it made something in his chest go pang. It wasn’t loud, not something that would make his heart race in the usual way, but it was there. It was like a ripple spreading through calm water, disrupting the steady rhythm of his thoughts. His cocky grin faltered for the briefest moment, and he caught himself staring at you longer than he should have.
You turned, your gaze lingering on him for just a beat too long before you started walking back toward the school, and Gojo was left sitting there, arms draped casually over the bench but feeling anything but casual on the inside. 
His eyes followed you as you walked away, the echo of your voice still playing in his head.
Satoru. 
The way you said his name—it was different. There was something in it, something that tugged at him, made him want to get up and follow you. His heart, which had always felt invincible, seemed to stutter for just a moment, that odd tightness from earlier returning. 
It was subtle, but it was enough to make him wonder—enough to make him realize that you had the ability to make him feel something more than the cocky, all-powerful sorcerer he always was.
Gojo leaned back fully, forcing the grin to stay on his face as if nothing had changed. 
But as you disappeared from view, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. And for once, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
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writeriguess · 19 hours
Note
instead talking about Bakugou a little older than the reader? he in comparison has had a lot of experiences compared to her, but she in fact feels insecure about this, and would like some reassurance, but at a certain point Bakugou has a fit of jealousy and at that point she makes him understand how much he loves her, it would be too cute🎀 (+smut) THANKS
You had always admired Bakugou Katsuki from afar. His fiery personality, his unrelenting drive, and his overwhelming confidence made him impossible to ignore. Now, being with him felt like a dream—but sometimes, that dream turned into insecurity. After all, he was older, more experienced, and you often found yourself wondering if you measured up.
You sat at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Bakugou was pacing the room, towel draped over his neck after a long, hard day. His messy blond hair was still damp from the shower, and the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. As you watched him, the words that had been bothering you for days finally tumbled out.
“Katsuki… you’ve been with more people, right?”
His movements froze mid-step, and he turned to look at you, brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”
You lowered your gaze, unsure of how to voice the insecurities swirling inside you. “It’s just… you’ve done a lot. Been with people, had more experiences. And I’m just—well, I feel like I’m behind. What if I’m not enough for you?”
His eyes softened, but there was a fire flickering behind them. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“Are you kidding me?” Bakugou’s voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I care about any of that?”
You blinked, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. “I mean, you’ve done so much already, and I’m just… I don’t know, Katsuki. I feel like you deserve someone who’s on your level.”
His scowl deepened, but this time it wasn’t directed at you. “Tch, you’re an idiot sometimes, y’know that? You think I’m with you for your ‘experience’?” He crouched down to your eye level, his intense crimson eyes burning into yours. “I’m with you because you’re you. Don’t need anyone else, don’t want anyone else. Got it?”
You felt your heart swell at his words, but before you could fully process the warmth, Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he stood back up.
“Wait… is that why you’ve been talkin’ to that extra from your class? The one always hangin’ around you?” His fists clenched, and you could practically see the jealousy bubbling up in him. His jaw tightened as if just the thought of it made his blood boil. “You think you need someone like him instead of me?”
Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t mad at you. He was jealous. Bakugou, for all his confidence and bravado, was actually worried about losing you.
“Katsuki, no,” you said, standing up and grabbing his arm. His muscles were tense, but you held on firmly. “He’s just a friend. No one comes close to you. No one could ever replace you.”
He turned his head away, still refusing to meet your eyes, but you could tell his resolve was cracking. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled your ears.
“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re all I need. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that.”
Bakugou’s hands hesitated before they finally settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip tightened as if he was scared to let you go.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “I love you, idiot.”
The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, his lips demanding yet gentle against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself being backed up against the bed, your legs hitting the edge.
“Katsuki…” you breathed out as he guided you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.
His eyes darkened with desire, the jealousy from earlier replaced by an intense need to remind you just how much you meant to him. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.
“You’re mine,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with need. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”
Bakugou’s lips crashed against yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your body. You gasped as his touch ignited a fire inside you, and before you knew it, your clothes were discarded, leaving you bare beneath him.
He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your body as if he was trying to commit the sight to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip a beat.
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “Katsuki… I love you.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed anyone. He leaned down, kissing you softly before whispering against your lips, “I love you too.”
Katsuki’s hands were anything but steady as he started fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. His fingers, usually so sure and precise, trembled slightly in a way that was endearing—like even he was nervous despite how confident he usually seemed. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes locked onto yours as his brows furrowed in frustration.
“Damn thing,” he muttered, his impatience getting the best of him.
You chuckled softly, reaching up to still his hands. “Here, let me help,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing against his. His gaze softened for a moment, and he watched as you slowly undid the rest of the buttons yourself.
As the fabric parted, revealing more of your skin, Katsuki’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He slid his hands over your now exposed skin, his touch sending sparks of warmth through your body. You shivered, not from the cold but from the electric connection that pulsed between you.
“Katsuki,” you breathed his name, drawing him closer as your blouse slipped off your shoulders, landing softly on the floor. His mouth found yours again, but this time, his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of the possessiveness he had over you.
“Don’t know why you worry so much,” he murmured against your lips before kissing down your jawline to your neck. “You’re all I ever want.”
His words melted your insecurities, and you tilted your head back to give him better access. Each kiss, each graze of his teeth against your skin, sent a wave of warmth coursing through you. Your fingers tangled in his messy blond hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved lower.
“You’re perfect, you hear me?” Katsuki’s voice was rough, breathless, his jealousy from earlier forgotten as his focus shifted entirely to you. “No one else could ever come close to making me feel like this.”
You couldn’t help but smile through the haze of warmth and desire that clouded your mind. “You always know what to say, Katsuki.”
His response was a low growl of approval, his lips grazing your collarbone as his hands roamed lower, exploring the newly exposed skin. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed what you already knew: you were all he wanted, just as he was all you needed.
Katsuki’s lips trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The tension in the room thickened, his hands now tracing over the curves of your waist, gripping your hips with a possessive yet tender touch. As his lips hovered just above the edge of your bra, he paused, glancing up at you with those intense crimson eyes.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with need. He kissed the swell of your breast softly, almost as if he was holding himself back.
You let out a shaky breath, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Katsuki…”
Hearing his name on your lips like that seemed to spark something in him. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and this time, there was no fumbling. He made quick work of it, tossing the fabric aside before lowering his head, lips grazing the newly exposed skin. His kisses turned hotter, more desperate, as his tongue flicked over one of your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him.
“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch set your skin on fire, each kiss pulling you further into the storm that was Bakugou Katsuki.
You could feel the tension building between you both, the room growing hotter with every second. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, eager to feel his skin against yours. His muscles flexed under your touch, his body hard and warm as he pressed himself closer to you, almost as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.
“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I need you…”
The words seemed to unravel something inside him. His lips crashed against yours again, and in a rush, his hands went to the waistband of your skirt. In one swift movement, he pulled it down, taking your panties with it, leaving you completely bare before him.
He paused for a moment, eyes raking over your body, as if he needed to take you in—every inch, every curve, burning the image of you into his mind.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
Before you could respond, he was on you again, his hands sliding down your thighs, parting them gently as he settled between them. The intensity in his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly despite his strong grip, only fueled your desire. You reached for him, tugging at the waistband of his pants, needing to feel him, needing to close the distance that still remained between you.
“Katsuki, please…” you whispered, your voice heavy with need.
That seemed to snap whatever control he had left. In a blur of motion, his pants were discarded, and he hovered over you, his skin warm against yours as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—nothing else mattered.
“I love you,” he murmured, the words raw, almost vulnerable as he aligned himself with you.
Before you could respond, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he held himself still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.
“You feel… so damn good,” he breathed, his voice strained with the effort it took to stay still.
You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin as you whispered his name, urging him to move. And he did, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours with a delicious rhythm that had you trembling beneath him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in him.
Katsuki’s pace quickened, the desperation in his movements mirroring your own. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, as if he wanted to merge with you entirely.
“I’m yours,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened with every thrust. “Only yours, Katsuki…”
His response was a low growl, his grip tightening as he drove into you harder, faster. “That’s right,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine… all mine.”
The intensity of his words, the sheer possessiveness in his voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry, your body tightened around him, pleasure exploding through you in waves as your climax washed over you. Katsuki followed soon after, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own release, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.
For a moment, the world was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you clinging to each other as you came down from the high.
Katsuki collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close.
“I love you,” he whispered again, quieter this time, but just as sincere.
You smiled, snuggling into his warmth as you whispered back, “I love you too, Katsuki. Always.”
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