#before i get reminded it has nothing to do with that

[lizardkingeliot]

Hoooo boy okay let's do this. 2x06 was a goddamn doozy, you guys. There was a very strong theme here throughout the episode of makers and fledglings being able to feel one another through their shared blood even when they can't read each other's minds. Louis says he can feel Madeleine is out of town because she is his fledgling. Likewise, Madeleine calls out the fact that she can feel Louis after acknowledging she can't read his mind. But there's something else happening here too....

She looks to Armand. Says she can feel Louis' love for him through their blood. Then calls out the fact that... Louis won't tell him? Only... Louis HAS told Armand "I love you". That was a pretty important element of 2x04. The casual way he said it with the vision of Lestat laughing at the bedside all the while. The one Louis actually couldn't say it to...

Was Lestat. We all remember, but just in case anyone forgot...

But what does Madeleine ascribe this feeling to? Why does she think she can FEEL Louis loving Armand? Because of the blood they share. The blood they share that comes from Lestat. The blood Claudia didn't want Madeleine to have BECAUSE it's Lestat's. The episode did a really great job of reminding us about the blood bonds and just what it means to have a connection to your maker. And when that maker is also your lover..... hoooooo boy.........

Anyway. The love. The blood. The bond with your maker. I can understand why Madeleine would be confused about the love Louis is feeling. She sees Louis with Armand. She assumes they're in love. She doesn't realize...

Her maker is sitting there thinking about his own maker the entire time. To the point he almost quotes him word for word before he stops himself...

And of course he's thinking about Lestat. He's just become a maker himself. Why WOULDN'T he be thinking about Lestat? Even after saying goodbye to Dreamstat, he can't get Lestat out of his mind. Even after becoming a shadow of who he used to be. Someone cold and distant. He's trying so hard, but it's never going to work. He's never going to be able to shove Lestat away completely. And he's certainly never going to be capable of loving Armand in the way Armand desperately wants Louis to love him. Because while Armand might say he belongs to Louis. If you ask Louis if he belongs to Armand, well...

And honestly... I feel so horrible for Armand here. Because there's nothing he could have done that would have made this particular outcome any different. He never stood a chance. Louis and Lestat are bonded not only in their blood but in their hearts and their souls. Lestat was not only Louis' maker but the love of his life. His first love. The first man he ever allowed himself true intimacy with. The one he shared a coffin with. The one he shares a heart with. Louis is trying so hard to be who he was before Lestat, someone closed off and cold. But he cannot sever the bond in their blood and in their hearts with all the coldness in the world...

Which leads me to wonder... did the love Madeleine detect in Louis not only have to do with his blood bond with Lestat/the fact that he was thinking about Lestat the whole time, but also the fact that Lestat was already in Paris? Could Louis feel it? Was he aware of feeling that innate connection but was so determined to make himself a hardened shell of who he once was that he just brushed it of? Thought it was residual grief? Is that why his visions of Lestat before he banished him in 2x04 were so vivid? Because Lestat was in Paris for years, and despite not really knowing that, Louis felt it all the same?

Anyway. Moving on. Circling back to Armand and Louis and the topic of love. When they're discussing Armand not being aware of what Santiago was truly up to, Armand blames being distracted on being in love and Louis just... outright scoffs at the idea?

We sure are a long way from "meet the vampire Armand, the love of my life" territory this deep into season 2, that's for sure. And sure, in Dubai Louis is feeling bitter and doesn't trust Armand for many reasons this particular post aren't about. But even looking back on it, on the time that should have been their honeymoon phase before it all went to shit, Louis just... doesn't see love there. Or at least not being In Love. Because the only one Louis was in love with in Paris was his maker. The one he was bonded to in blood.

And the one he's about to have to sit on a stage with next week and never once be permitted to touch. Never once be permitted a moment of truth with. But the bond is still going to be there. They'll still feel each other's hearts, beating as one with their shared blood. And we have to assume after that... they just never see each other again after Paris? And just thinking on that point alone... it truly is no wonder Louis is still so unwell in Dubai. Locked away in his tower that is his prison that is his forgetting. I wasn't sure I believed Armand when he said Louis asked him to take the memory of San Francisco away from him. But I think I actually do? It makes sense. That he would want to forget something like that. And it also makes me wonder...

What else did Louis want to forget? And how much of that forgetting is related to this agonizing, unbreakable blood bond he shares with Lestat? I truly have no clue how far they're going to take this, so I guess we'll just have to wait to find out...

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ SIN OF A THIN WALL | toji fushiguro

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: your roommate has complaints about the thin wall you have to share in your apartment

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, v nasty sex, voyeurism [?], solo masturbation, [toji says 'yes ma'am' once], dry humping, nipple play, oral f. receiving, squirting, size kink, creampie, MDNI.

toji had just about had enough already.

night after night through the thin, reverberating shared wall of your room next to him, he listens - whether he wants to or not. it starts out with a little creak of your bed here and there, and he knows it’s about to get noisy. he’ll cover his head with a pillow to drown it out, but it’s not enough. he’ll put headphones on, turn up the tv, anything, but it just can’t muffle your sounds well enough.

so he hears it all - night after night. your voice-cracked whimpers, your little jolts that make the wooden frame squeak, the slick sounds as you play with yourself, even your little whiny curses and foul words.

it’s such a pain to him. he just wants to sleep - but, fuck, is it impossible to relax with an uncomfortable, stiff tent in his pants. he tries to choke it down, to remind himself how wrong it is to get turned on from such a thing, to just let out a deep sigh and hope that those little sheep will come dancing by soon - but they never do.

it gets irritating after a few days - he tries to rest, but ends up wide awake with an eye on the clock in sheer bafflement at how long you’ve been keeping it up for. either she’s ridiculously horny or she’s just trying to piss me off, toji thinks. how the fuck is she not done yet?

he grumbles under his breath, feeling exasperated and exhausted. your bed rocks noisily again, and he can hear some soft moaning - he ponders what to do, though, he doesn’t wanna barge in, of course.

“damn it,” toji mutters between a disgruntled groan as he stands up decisively, sauntering in just his boxers towards the door to your room and he doesn’t hesitate to rap on the wood. he keeps his voice low, “y’know what time it is? i’m tryin’ to sleep.”

toji’s met with no response, and his eyebrows furrow in consternation as he presses his ear to the door. did she not hear me?

“hey, you listenin’?” toji grunts out, a little louder, letting out a heavy sigh as his head hangs down in a slouch. the fuck is going on? he hesitates, tensing his jaw as he thinks, what do i do, just walk in? he knocks again, “c’mon already. answer or i’m gonna come in…”

he waits a few seconds, then a few more - nothing. toji’s eyebrows tense up as he rubs his eyes half in exhaustion, half in irritation. he curses under his breath, grabbing the door handle abruptly. “this is fuckin' ridiculous, i’m comin’ in.”

one push of the door on its hinges brings to reveal your half-clothed, shaky figure splayed on your bed with your fingers stuffed between your thighs. you jolt at his brooding presence in your doorway, hands quickly moving to cover what's visible to him, “s-shit, can you not?”

toji sighs heavily, looking down at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere. “i knocked, i spoke up, you didn’t hear. i’m tired, i jus’ wanna sleep but all the noise is keepin’ me up. for fuck’s sake, finish up or go to bed.”

it's hard to describe the way your head tilts in bewilderment at the same time as you freeze up, realizing that he's been hearing you this whole time - what's the main feeling? is it vulnerability? surprise? or maybe hope that he's come to help you? maybe all three at once?

"sorry, didn't realize the walls were so thin," you murmur awkwardly, both of your gazes evading one another in the tense energy of the room. what's worse is you can feel the throb of your clit from how dangerously close you were by the time he walked in, and you almost can't resist the instinct to let your fingers return to what they were doing before. "didn't mean to be a bother."

"it's fine," toji mutters in a rasped, sleepy voice, yet there's something else woven into his tone that you can't quite pin down. he lets his eyes wander a bit, it's rather dark after all, so maybe you won't notice him taking a quick look. "just- y'know, keep it down, maybe."

you nod gently, glancing around, not sure where to look - certainly at him is not the answer - where his arms are crossed, biceps pushed even larger against himself and laced with veins. certainly not where his boxers sit on his hips, the v-shape of his lower abs tantalizing your imagination as to what's beneath that waistband.

and certainly not where the slightest bit of a smirk is pulling at his scarred lips as his mind plays the same little game as yours. toji is acutely aware of your body language - your chest still rising and falling pretty quickly, thighs squeezing together as if you're focusing all your energy on not touching. maybe he wouldn't mind helping you just this once...

"y'know, maybe-" toji starts, tilting his head as his eyes and words both trail off in second-thought. he glances back at you, clears his throat and rasps out, "nah, never mind. that'd be a lil' weird."

"why would it be weird?" you murmur quietly, shifting on the bed all antsy-like as if you could sense what he was going to say. "you can say it. i won't judge, you know..."

"well," toji hesitates for a brief moment again, then steps forwards to the end of your bed and his big, calloused hands find their place on the wooden frame. he rests his weight forwards on his palms, and you can see what sort of expression he's wearing now that he's closer. it's intriguing you. "either you stop doin' this late at night and find some time durin' the day so it's not keepin' me up, or... y'know, we could do it together."

"together?" both your lungs and your thighs constrict viscerally, all air and sense leaving your body as the weight of his words lays on you like bricks. toji nods. he's serious? your face contorts in an indescribable way - maybe ecstasy, maybe shock. "you're serious?"

"ah, i mean, i didn't say that just to fuck around with you," toji lets out a little chuckle between his soft sneer, and you can tell he's being actually serious. his eyes glaze over your body, then meet yours again. "mutual benefit, y'know? not tryin' to lose any more sleep. if pleasing you means i get some peace n' quiet at night, i don't mind."

"okay," is all you can spit out, paired with a blank-minded yet also fervently overthinking nod. you're not sure what to do now - all you know is that there's an eager pressure building up between your thighs that you won't be able to rid yourself of until his hands are on you. your head tilts as you shift anxiously on the sheets, "you mean, like, right now?"

"yeah, right now," toji lets out another dry chuckle as he maneuvers to kneel in front of you on the plush mattress. he leers down at where you're sitting just inches from him, looking all small and pretty with your thighs keening together. his thumb finds your chin, and he leans in titillatingly. "tell me how you like it."

"however you want," you sigh out the words in need, eyes flitting over his green ones, then his scar, then his lips, then his eyes again. it's when he slowly lets his lips drag over yours, then kisses, that you melt into him. your hands find his shoulders, dragging up towards the back of his head to flit through his hair. his big hand cradles your head gently yet full of want, and all you can do is whine, "fuck."

"i know, i know," toji mutters through a little grin, letting breathy sighs escape between the wanton kiss that seems to get hotter and messier each time it happens in succession. he keens closer to your body, letting you slowly laze onto your back on the sheets. his fingers glide along the strap of your bra, inching further behind you to unclasp it with a murmured, "let me see you."

your lungs pant shallowly as he watches closely at the way your tits spill out of your bra once it's strewn onto the floor, surely to be forgotten. the way he almost groans at the sight is enough to make your spine flicker with little waves of euphoria. you want him to touch you so badly you might die. you breathe out in a heave, "please- don't stop kissing me."

"yes, ma'am," toji jeers as he shifts your thighs to either side of his hips, and he presses himself forwards to let you feel just how fucking hard you're making him. he leans down, kissing you fervently, now with little flicks of his tongue against yours and soft grunts. "feel what you did to me?"

"mhm," you pull back and nod, hands grazing his chest and his arms, wholly taking in each dip and curve of pure muscle on his frame. you consider whether or not you're possessed by the way you mindlessly take his hand in yours, sliding it down to your panties to let him feel along the slick mess coating the fabric. "feel what you did to me?"

"fuck, you're nasty," toji pants out between a little grin, rocking his hips once or twice against yours as his hands paw at the plushness of your breasts. what jolts you the most is how heavy his cock feels against you, and you can't help but shudder when you look down at the bulge urging to press through his boxers. "y'like that? like when i grind on you? want me to put it in already?"

"yeah, mhm," you nod in furor, practically losing yourself over just the thought of it. toji brings his thumbs to gently toy with your nipples, as if testing to see what makes you squirm the most. it's when you let out a little whine paired with a big shudder that he smirks, "sensitive there, huh? what if i keep playin' with 'em? you gonna get wetter for me?"

"yeah, turns me on- fuck," you whimper out airily, half-moaning half-wincing when his fingers tweak the buds purposefully. what makes your head spin is when he presses open-mouthed, messy kisses along your jaw, your neck, all the way down to your chest - and it's when he trades his fingers for his mouth that you're grasping his hair, panting hard and begging for friction between your thighs. "toji, please, need you."

"m' gonna get there, promise," toji murmurs between a pearled sneer as he lets his tongue drag on your sensitive nipple over and over again, his free hand grazing down your curves to find refuge between your thighs. he drags his thumb mind-dizzyingly slow along your clit above your panties, and hums, "wanna see how big a mess i can get you to make first."

"that's mean," you whine out impatiently, giving him innocent little eyes in the hopes that he'll slip your panties to the side and just fucking give it to you. but he doesn't do that - he kisses his way down your stomach, all the way down to the damp spot on the fabric clinging to your hips.

"nah, i'm doin' you a favor. gotta get you all wet n' needy first so i can give it to you the way you want it," toji's demeanor changes to one of pure focus as his fingers slip your panties off your hips, his eyes glazing over the slick already donning your folds and inner thighs. he circles his thumb over your bare clit and groans, "that all for me? bet it's all sweet, too, fuck."

you let out a shaky gasp when you feel him press a slew of kisses on your clit, tongue swiping here and there to get a feel for what makes you shiver. it's when he's licking circles, experimentally slipping two fingers between your walls and curling forwards that you're letting out a whimper and pleading for more - there it is.

"you like both, huh? want me to fuck you with my fingers n' suck on your clit, yeah?" the little smirk he flashes you before attending back to his ministrations is enough to send you reeling, thighs wantonly tightening around his head as little jolts shiver up your spine. his fingers fill you in a way your own never could, pressing against the spot that is always just out of reach for you. "losing it this bad over just my fingers? yours don't hit it here, huh? no wonder you've been up so late the past few nights."

it doesn't take long until you're panting in hitched breaths, grasping his hair, shuddering and whining and grinding your hips into his mouth in a desperate attempt to fall over the edge. "don't stop, please- fuck, gonna make me-"

"cum? yeah? you wanna cum on my fingers n' make a mess on my face?" toji leers out the words before almost groaning at the way you're mindlessly rolling your hips onto his tongue, face all tense and mouth agape as you feel tingles start to spread through your spine. all your little moans of 'like that, just like that, don't stop' make his cock twitch in his boxers and his fingers fuck into you just a little faster.

"g-god, oh- gonna cum, gonna cum," you're whining through every little jolt of your body as you shiver all over, fist tightening on the roots of his hair and he can't help but let out a low moan himself. his eyes glaze over the pretty face you make when you finally reel over the edge, and he can feel the slick mess start to smother his palm and chin.

"oh, fuck yeah, just like that," toji jeers as he keeps up the work with his fingers, watching more and more flicks of liquid start to cover his hand each second he continues. it's when your thighs pull together out of sheer overstimulation that he's slipping his fingers out, eyes mesmerized by just how much of a mess he made of you. "fuck, wanna see you do that again on my cock right now."

"c'mere," toji wastes no time before pushing down the waistband of his boxers, letting his cock free of its restraints and into his fist instead. you flit your eyes down towards his hips, watching him give himself a few soft, moan-inducing pumps where he's leaned over you. "think you can take it? wanna see you nod yes."

"yeah, yeah, please," you whimper out now at just the thought of being so full, feeling things your own fingers wish they could do for you. a languid whine leaves your lips when he presses the head of his cock on your clit, sliding down before rocking his hips forwards to bottom out. it's indescribable the way you both moan, immediately panting out and exchanging little grins from how fucking good it already feels.

"jesus- fuck, you're so wet," toji grunts out as he leans down, caging you between his big arms and slowly letting his hips rut forwards, backwards, then again, then again. the head hits a spot that makes your thighs shiver on each side of him, and you can't control the mewed whimpers leaving your lips anymore. "always- shit, secretly wanted to do this to you."

"y-yeah? how long?" you manage to mutter out between moans in time with each subsequently faster rut of his hips, each heavy rock of himself into you that has you both tensing up.

"god, the whole time. if you think i was layin' there- fuck, tryin' to go to sleep, you're mistaken," toji's breath hitches, his hair falling messily over his forehead as his muscles tauten and stretch with each thrust. his hands drag down to grip your waist, holding you stable as he angles deeper. "got so hard thinkin' about you touchin' yourself like that. was hard not to bust down the door n' fuckin' give it to you."

"mm- fuck," you whine in response, and he can feel you get wetter and enclose him even tighter when he fucks hard against that spot he now knows you love. your hands desperately grasp the sheets, his wrists, anything you can hold onto to keep yourself on planet earth. "thought about you while i was doing it. w-wanted you to hear. thought about you getting off to me..."

"oh, god, you're so fuckin' hot," toji's head cranes back for a moment, and you can see his abs viscerally shudder when you tighten around his shaft. he's mouth-agape, panting hard, eyebrows tense and rutting his hips hard enough to make the whole bed creak and shake. "swear i heard you moan my name once- jesus, was so hot. ended up caving n' beat off to your lil' noises, couldn't help it."

"i don't even- mm, remember saying it. just so natural," you mew back, sweat breaking along your skin as you shudder and lose more and more sanity with each heavy rock of his hips.

"do it again," toji's tone is heavy, rasped, demanding. his eyebrows are tense, hands ever-so-slightly shaky, motions getting erratic and faster, more messy. his grunts mix with moans, mix with shallow breaths, mix with the lewd wet noises and smacks and shake of the rickety bed and you can tell he's almost there. his eyes meet yours and his breath shudders, "wanna hear you say it again."

"yeah, yeah, i'll do it, toji," you whimper and your voice is shaky from his flexible, unstable tempo, but all that matters now is remembering his name. you lose all sense of everything else, letting out mew after whimper after moan of 'yes, yes, fuck, yes, toji, yes, toji,' and he feels like he's on cloud nine just listening to it.

"fuck yeah, there you go. keep moanin' my name for me, gonna give it to you," toji's keening for more, grunting and panting and letting out heavy ragged breaths each time his cock fucks against that spot that makes you squeeze him even tighter. it's when he leans back down, caging you between his arms and breathing hard against your cheek that he bottoms out, shuddering and groaning as ropes of white spill between your walls and slick around the base of his cock. "jesus, fuck..."

you both stay immobile for a few seconds, feeling every twitch of his cock and every tautening around his shaft in almost slow motion. you're both panting hard, almost shaking.

"jesus christ," toji is the first to let out a leering chuckle, one with a mix of both astonishment and sheer pleasure. you follow suit, trying to catch your breath as you both eye the mess stickying the sheets and each other's bodies. you're definitely going to have to shower.

you let out a little giggle, and toji's face quirks up in question. you smile, letting your body fall back into its normal rhythm. "do you wish you had walked in on me earlier? 'cause i do."

toji chuckles, too, shaking his head and attempting to tame back the unruly mess that is his hair. "nah..." he leans down, letting his thumb flit along your cheek. "doesn't matter, cause now we got all the time in the world."

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost. erm @diorsbrando if u read this n give me a review i will forever b in ur debt i know ur a toji lover pls send help if this is mischaracterized .. i need assistance but am too impatient to allow beta reading JAKLALLALAA

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ ONLY FOR YOU .ᐟ — gojo satoru

your new roommate is all sorts of mysterious. the biggest one of all? the fact that he keeps trying for you even when it seems like you won’t budge. (or, satoru’s preposterous attempts at getting you to date him.)

gojo satoru x female reader. content tags runaway!gojo, modern au, also roommate gojo, they’re both about mid-twenties here, mentions of periods. word count 2.5k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ do not perceive me </3 haha with the state of jjk manga i just wanted some happiness so have some gojo !! this was random and came completely out of nowhere :’) anyway hope you guys enjoy <3

six months after moving into an apartment in the city, your haphazard living quarters (haphazard mostly because the previous tenants had zero interior design sense) has nearly turned into your dream home.

new furniture litters every square feet, the old ones all tossed out. your living room spots a fresh new rug—black and white, thick and furry. the new coffee table is made of glass, magazines and newspapers filling up the space underneath. the couch has been upgraded to a dark leather, oozing a sense of old money somehow.

it’s not just your living room, your bedroom too spots some new upgrades. the single bed has been upgraded to a queen size, new vanity perpendicular to the study desk and your new wardrobe as high as the ceiling itself.

all minimalistic and black and whites and beiges, a far cry from the old and dreary dark blue walls that seem to evoke a sense of dread in you.

of course, while you’d like to claim the credit for yourself, your roommate played a much bigger part in all of this redecorating. he paid for most of it, after all.

“remind me again, satoru, how do you have this much money when you don’t even work?”

satoru stands beside you, having followed your line of sight as the both of you finally finished redecorating the house. he’s standing tall and proud too, like he’s pleased with himself because he knows you like what he’s thought up of here.

a six-foot-three human of godly proportions with the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. too bad he’s managed to annoy you the moment he first step foot in the apartment.

he turns to look at you, a wink in your direction before that shit-eating grin and a “it’s a secret” being all he offers.

you roll your eyes. “whatever, satoru,” you shrug it off, slumping down on your new leather seats.

he opts to sit right beside you despite the sofa being the width of your entire living room. he’s annoying like that, always up in your space, has to make himself known—he’s been like this ever since he first moved in.

sometimes he makes you question your decision of having a roommate.

“hey y/n, i wanna ask you something!”

you sigh, in the exasperated non-friendly way and glare at satoru, who’s beaming from ear to ear, because every single time he says that, he’ll ask you some ridiculous question.

the last time he did was a few days ago, when he asked about your period cycle, and when you hit him with the pillow, he’d pouted and said, “hey, i just thought i could help you buy some during your time if i ever dropped by the store!”

(which is funny considering how the first time you went grocery shopping together he looked like a kid on a sugar rush, dumping only—and only—sweets and pastries into the shopping cart.)

“do i get to say no?”

“nope!” and he still has that happy lilt to his voice.

“why do i even bother with you, satoru?” you rub your temples before resigning yourself to look at him with a straight face.

satoru shifts his position so he’s leaning on his side, watching you dreamily. it’s such a crime that he looks like that—it’s so easy for him to make hearts melt. “do you have a boyfriend?”

he nearly makes you choke on nothing. as much as you want to manoeuvre out of such talk with him, you know that you’re just signing up for a much longer conversation with him if you don’t just give him a straight answer.

“no,” you say, contemplating just stopping there, but then again, you don’t want him to get any ideas. “and i’m not looking for one, satoru.”

right on cue, he pouts. but somehow, something tells you he expected your answer already. “but you don’t have one, so i can try,” he says, as if to affirm the idea to himself.

“yeah you can try, but i’ll keep saying no, satoru, so don’t even bother.” you’re trying your best to get him not to even try, but satoru’s optimism is probably one of the strongest things to exist on this earth.

after a continuous fifteen minutes of you insisting that the more he tries, the more it’d turn you off, you thought you’d gotten through to him.

until one week later when he proves all your efforts were for naught.

he shows up at the lobby of your company building, looking all dashing and everything like a modern prince charming would, leaning against the hood of his car while he scrolls through his phone, evidently waiting for you because you’ve decided to ignore all his questions for the past two hours (of which all were trying to get you to tell him what time you get off work).

thanks to his little stunt (showing up at your workplace and basically forcing you to ride with him or else he’ll make an even bigger display of affection), everyone at the office now thinks you’re already dating that tall dreamy man, or that you’re crazy not to.

after you say you’re still not interested, he’s moved on to other forms of… seduction.

one night, you go home to see him in just his sweats, cooking dinner and to top it off, it’s your favourite dish.

you scoff in disbelief, flinging your purse down onto the dining table. (a variation of light oak you both agreed would look good with everything else.) “satoru, what is this?”

he turns around, abs on full display as he acts coy. the spatula in his right hand turning a circle as he shrugs. “what do you mean? just cooking some dinner, want some?”

oh, you’ll get him for this. you don’t know how, but one day you will. he’s taken everything you said you liked about a contestant on a dating show and is currently trying to embody everything he is just to tempt you into dating him.

(it’s unfair that you somehow think satoru is much more handsome than anyone on tv, but you’re never going to tell him that. never.)

“satoru.”

(your tone is nearly akin to that which his mother often used on him when he was young. you’re kind of scary sometimes.)

his disinterested expression eases into an easy smirk, his lower back leaning against the counter. “oooh, you’re so hot when you’re all angry, babe.”

“i’m not your babe and the answer is still no!”

(he ends up burning whatever he was trying to cook because he was too busy turning his attention to you.)

the next time he tries, he’s sending you bouquets of flowers to you. at your workplace, right in full view of everyone including your bosses, who all seem to be so interested in your love life now. especially when what they’re reading are things like “can’t wait to see you when you get home, miss you ♡”.

so now the entire office thinks you live with your boyfriend and rumours have spread that you’re going to get married soon. how on earth that second part got out of hand you have no idea.

now everyday when you get home, he has something for you. it varies from time to time, and they range from food to high-end jewellery. he keeps trying to play a game of hit or miss, trying to gauge by your expressions every time he gives you his gift, trying to decide whether you like it or not.

three months later, you can safely say he has your food preferences nailed. as for everything else, like fashion and accessories, there’s more to be said. you didn’t want to accept all his gifts, especially not when you’re going to hate yourself for possibly leading him on, but satoru has never been one to take no for an answer. ever since the day you first met him really, when he only insists on you calling him by his first name and refuses to tell you his last. (yet he wants to know everything about you.)

satoru’s infuriating.

“you know, you keep doing all this without knowing whether i’ll ever say yes, or whether or not i’m taking advantage of you, why won’t you stop?” you ask when you get home one day, tired as shit because an important (yet unreasonable) client has taken the opportunity to shit on you earlier today for things that they failed to do.

it makes you wonder whether satoru ever thinks the same about you; whether you’re an asshole for just… being the way you are.

he tilts his head to the side, the gift in his hand, inside a pretty paper bag, falling to his side as he thinks. “nah, you’re not like that.”

“like what?”

“whatever bad thing you’re thinking about yourself,” satoru decides, moving forward to ruffle your hair. usually you move away, but this time you let him.

“and how are you so sure?”

he pouts a little, as if it’s a disappointment you don’t already know. “i dunno what you’re thinking about, but i happen to like you. a lot.”

“satoru, you barely know me.”

“maybe. but i at least know you’re independent though, you always like to get shit done yourself and you do it all well. and i like the way you work hard, even after you get back home. and you always feed the stray cats outside our apartment, that’s why you hate it when you get off work late.”

there’s a lot of things satoru notices that you probably don’t know about. and here you are, thinking he’s just doing all this for the heck of it. still, it’s an awkward topic that you’re not sure how to continue.

“that’s it?” you mumble sheepishly, averting your gaze.

satoru grins, eyes forming cute little half moons. “want me to say more? i have more, how about—”

“okay you can shut up now!” you exclaim, lunging forward to cover his mouth with your hands, though all that does is give him a reason to shoot you his signature shit-eating grin.

“icanshwotallygibyoumorereasonswhy—”

you yank your hands away, realising it does nothing to actually shut him up.

“i like you,” he finishes. still grinning. still proud of himself. still holding your new gift in his hand.

and maybe it’s the way he’s trying relentlessly, tirelessly, even in the face of all your rejections. or maybe it’s the way you notice that he’s trying, earnestly. because honestly? you don’t know what you can offer him. he seems to do just well enough by himself. and with looks like that? you don’t doubt he can attract some powerful socialites if he wants.

or perhaps it’s the way he’s prattling on about how he saw you using up your planner pages already that one time you were perched on the balcony area doing your work that he’s shamelessly now praising himself for getting you more pages because the last time, you said to stop it with the super expensive gifts.

“i think i’m a pretty good listener—”

“okay, satoru,” you concede, a ghost of a smirk tugging the corners of your lips.

satoru blinks like an idiot, like he’s a deer caught in the headlights, because he can’t believe what you just implied.

“okaaaay as in…” he trails off for a moment, his confusion quickly giving way to a full-on grin, the widest you’ve ever seen on him. “y/n, are you my girlfriend now?”

you hold your pointer finger up and tut him, shaking it back and forth trying not to get him to jump the gun. it’s barely been a minute since you agreed and you can already tell he’s going to be a handful.

“we’re not together—”

“yet,” he corrects you, always the eager one. still grinning, still staring at you dreamily, white lashes and blue eyes the bane of your existence.

you sigh, deciding not to reiterate that. “but i’ll go on a few dates with you, satoru. then by the end of it, you’ll see why we won’t work out.”

that doesn’t dampen his spirits—and at this point, you doubt anything ever will. this time, he’s the one shaking his index finger. “or, you’ll wonder where i’ve been your whole life.”

“perhaps. but maybe because i wanted to murder you.”

satoru hums as if he’s pondering it, then shakes his head. “nah, because you’d curse that we didn’t have more time together,” he says, sticking his tongue out.

he may act like a child in a grown man’s body, and more often than not, you may lament internally that he’s annoying and doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, but right now, the way his cheeky expression slowly fades into a genuine smile, the way his big hand comes up to your cheek to caress your face, the way his beautiful blue eyes fall to gaze at your lips—you get the hint that satoru’s dangerous.

dangerous because it might be so easy to fall for him, and maybe next time, before you know it, you’ll love him.

for now, it’s enough for you to absorb, and so you bail first before satoru gets to kiss you on the lips.

“dinner saturday, eight?” he calls after you, and you can just make out his smirk even when you’re not looking at him.

you’re still bounding down the hallway to your room. “whatever, you’re paying, satoru,” you declare back to him, realising you’re still flustered from how close he was back there.

“aw, love you too, babe!”

“oh my god, satoru i hate you,” you groan as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

still, behind closed doors, you can hear him chuckling. “i’ll make you fall for me one day, y/n.”

you don’t understand why, but your knees grow weak, and you fall to the floor clutching your purse in your hands. satoru’s charming and handsome and he’s probably everything you dreamed that prince charming would be.

but you also know how easily romance can ruin you.

so why, for the first time in years, do you feel your heart skipping beats and a genuine excited smile forming on your face?

you fish your phone out when you feel the vibration and realise it’s a text from satoru. never one for any type of space, really.

i’ll take care of you, don’t worry. 🫡

you laugh at his use of the emoji, and for the first time, you feel yourself so easily warming up to someone. deciding to throw him a bone tonight, you text him back.

in his room, satoru smiles to himself as he reads your message.

i’m in your hands, then. 🫡

he’s let a lot of people down recently. but you? no, he doesn’t ever want to let you down. for the first time in his life, he’s wondering if this is what love feels like.

[waldau]

i kindly ask you for a drabble with #20 from the prompt list with mingyu please 🥺🤲

“Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.” + mingyu

pleaaaase can you imagine how cute this would be, he's so dreamy

it’s not your first date with mingyu, but the way you’re feeling right now is just how you did back then — butterflies in your stomach, the way your hand fit so perfectly in his gloved one, held safely in his pocket because he was worried you’d feel too cold, the way he smiled—

a smile’s still on his lips, not as prominent as it was earlier in the evening, but it’s there. and you’re not even doing anything. you’re just standing at the foot of the staircase leading up to the floor where your apartment is, and you’re staring back at your boyfriend.

“what’s up?”

“thank you for today,” mingyu says, bringing up your hand to his lips to press a kiss to it. “i had fun.”

“aw, don’t thank me for that. i had fun, too. thanks for being free.”

he sighs. “i’d be free every single day of my life if it meant we could go out on more dates.”

you smile. “wouldn’t you get bored, then? seeing me all the time?”

he stares at you like you’ve said something preposterous. “don’t you even think like that, okay? i’ve been—”

you raise your eyebrows when he cuts himself off. “you’ve been what?”

“nothing,” he says, tugging at your hand that’s still in his. “come on, let’s get you back home. it’s cold.”

you don’t press him, instead following his lead as he climbs up the stairs. but he lets go of your hand when you reach the topmost one. you’re left staring down at him when you turn around, something that’s never happened before. you can see the swoop of hair curling on his forehead even better, and the way his eyes are tired yet shining. you’re never going to get tired of him, that much you know for sure.

“you’re shorter than me,” you tease, reaching forward to tug at the chain that lies around his neck. “how do you feel?”

“like you,” he grins, and you roll your eyes. you lean down to kiss his forehead, but he tilts his head up, and you end up kissing his nose. you don’t mind. you love the little mole he has at the end of it, and you have no problem reminding him of how much it should be cherished.

mingyu, however, has other plans. he stands on his tiptoes and reaches up to you, and you have no choice but to press a kiss to his lips, hands around his shoulders to make sure he doesn’t accidentally tumble down the stairs. he leans in for one more, but you’re a bit embarrassed by the setting you’re in.

“anyone can see us, gyu. i’m not keen on any neighbour seeing me make out with my boyfriend.”

he pouts but obliges, following you to your door. before you can unlock it, he grabs your wrist.

“that thing i was saying. i’ve been thinking of asking you to…move in with me. there’s no way i’d ever get tired of seeing you, okay? will you think about it?”

you can’t help but kiss him once again for that, neighbours be damned.

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/752847373085081600/i-wanna-miss-fratpeters-nose-so-badly

how does he react!!

THAT SENT TOO FAST I WASNT FINISHED😭

does he get shy?? does he pretend he’s unaffected or is he like do it again and again and again!!!🥹

--

soft!frat!peter <3

'what was that?'

you surprise attacked him with a kiss and went right back to watching tv, but this kiss wasn't on his mouth or his cheek so he's a tad bit confused.

'a little kissy.' it happened too quick. he saw a flash, felt a quick peck and you were submerged into netflix like nothing happened. 'want another?' it was rhetorical, you push up to place another to the same spot.

'why my nose?'

you steal another. 'why not?' and another. you go for a third after his bashful laugh, you swear you see a hint of pink coat his cheeks. 'i don't know, i've never had one, i guess.'

sometimes peter drops his lack of intimacy a little too casually. this is one of those times, how has no one ever given him nose kisses?

'have you ever felt like you wanna kiss every inch of me? not in a sexual way, but like, you wanna kiss me because i'm so cute?'

'i'm scared you'll read into my answer.' that's a total yes.

'well, there's a bunch of different types of kisses, so you're welcome for showing you another.' peter bids for your attention. 'what are the different types of kisses?'

'hm,' you sit up to straddle his lap. 'i mean, you know about this one.' a light peck to his forehead. 'and this one,' another on his cheek. your lips brush over his as you whisper, 'and you love this kind.' your hand on his chest tells you your guess was right.

'what else is there?' warm hands rest on your thighs, peter's speaking softly with his focus on you and you only. you could tease him, but you're going to take this delicate moment and file it away to replay when you’re questioning if he’s worth waiting around for. 

'you just learned about this one.' peter didn't know he could like attention on his nose so much. but when it comes from you, of course he does.

'any more?' he doesn't want it to end.

'how about an eskimo kiss?' peter's heard of them, but he's never had one so he pretends like he doesn't know what it is. you lean down to push your nose against his, you dig in at the last second before pulling away.

'the harder you do it, the more you love them.' you're not sure if that's true or not, but you heard it somewhere and it's nice to think about. 'that seems dangerous, you might end up with a broken nose.' you could scream about the undertone of his sentence, but you won't. it's another thing to file away.

'then you might like butterfly kisses.'

'what's-' peter stops, little flutters dance over his cheeks. his heart pounds hard, a swirl of matching insects take flight in his stomach.

'what do you think about that one?'

'do it again.' you cup his face before blinking against his skin.

it's airy, a hint of something youthful, wholesome, comforting. it's like stepping outside and feeling the sun coat over your arms, heating you from the inside out, gifting you with warmth you didn't know you needed or lacked.

it reminds him of you.

it's his favorite.

'you like them?' there's no question this time, he's got a full on blush. 'can i have another?' he savors the tickle. you give a finale, sealing it with an overdramatic 'muah!' against his lips.

'i like your flutter kisses.' you finger comb his hair, laying down any stray pieces from moving around on his pillow. 'you can have flutter kisses whenever you want.'

peter doesn't need to be told twice.

'flutter kisses. i demand more butterflies.'

'be careful, you might attract a whole swarm.'

peter makes prayer hands and mouths a 'thank you,' with his eyes closed before going dead weight underneath you.

'i'm ready to be suffocated.' 

[dolldefiler]

C/W: Rape

I think it would be quite funny ruining a perfectly good date by raping her. I’d spend the entire afternoon throwing slight pleasantries her way, showing off my sweet, gentler side to her. I’d have her obsessed with me as we drift from cafes to bookstores to duck ponds. Conversation would be smooth and easy. I’d feel like someone she’d known for years.

But I’m not.

The hours would trickle by and we’d end up at her front door, her roommates out on their own little dates. We’d stand outside for a while, unwilling to part before she hesitantly invites me in. It would be ironic if I hesitated for a second and told her I’d only want to chat and not get up to any funny business. She’d hurriedly deny anything of the sort and I’d just laugh it off, entering.

I’d wander around her house, curiosity taking over. I wouldn’t want her running away now, would I? How would I do it? Mid-conversation? Simply grab her throat and push her against a wall while she’s talking? She wouldn’t be prepared for it. No. She’d be too shocked to respond properly.

I want to see her fear. I want to hear her beg. I want to taste her tears.

I’d place an inconspicuous hand on her thighs and press down, letting her wariness grow with every second until she brings it up. Maybe it’d just be a misunderstanding. Maybe I’m just touchy. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

She’d open her mouth to speak.

I’d firmly clamp a hand around her throat.

Her eyes would widen and almost immediately screaming and struggling would begin. She’d feel my hand twist around her body, my fingers burying into her unwilling cunt. I’d squeeze harder, watching her grow silent and purple. I’d tell her this was happening. She’d sob. I’d tell her this would happen whether she wanted it or not. Her eyes would plead. I’d tell her if she wanted me to cum faster, she needed to help me out. She’d need to thank me for raping her.

I’d let her speak, my cock slipping into her cunt, violating her holes. If I’d asked, if I really wanted it, I could have fucked her today. I might have gotten lucky. I didn’t need to rape her. But where’s the fun in that? She’d spit back at me, a mix of rage and fear and sadness. And I’d just laugh and slap her sharply across the face, returning her spit with my own thick, pervy globs of saliva.

Sweat would coat her hair as she’d struggle to fight me off with every second until… she couldn’t. Every woman has her limit and she’d reach hers. I’d reach down to grope her perfect fat ass, squeezing it, fondling it like a piece of meat. In the silence, the loud slaps of my balls against her would remind her of what was happening. This perfect guy she’d met just wanted to hurt her. She’d already thought about what we’d name our kids. Now she’d have to think about how she’d raise my little rape baby.

I’d have her beg, finally. I’d make her. I’d tell her I’m not cumming inside her until she asks me to. Fuck, it’d be so hot watching her swallow her pride. It’d be so hot watching her choke on her tears while she tries to find the words to beg. And as she’d open her mouth to beg, I’d spit in it, one more insult to injury. She’d take it, the pathetic, desperate little bitch. There’s nothing else she could do.

“Please cum in me. I’m begging you. Finish it, you bastard.”

And I would. I’d cum inside her, moaning loudly, dumping my virile rapeseed inside her broken fuckbox. God, I’d even tell her what a wonderful date she’s been. As I’d pull up my pants, I’d ask her how she felt about a second date.

[azulsluver]

okay bully twst au, but what if we enjoy the bullying? mc perhaps didn't get enough attention as a child and thinks even the worst attention means love?

shymaso anon

Took my sweet sweet time for this!

This could be towards canon of reader’s personality in this AU, all thoughts are welcomed though. So I’ll try my best to go through various versions if asked.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, cheating, abusive + unhealthy relationships, subtle violence, emotional dependency, degradation, drowning, stalking (cameras).

Edit: I FORGOT KALIM AND JAMIL

Welcome to the team •shymaso anon ⸂⸂⸜(രᴗര๑)⸝⸃⸃

Riddle Rosehearts trains you to be the best.

He knew you would understand him, in his own way, Riddle believes the two of you were destined as you nod and responded to his lectures.

Every mistake you took his punishments without hesitation, hands gripping at your locks as your battered face looks up at him with mercy. Letting the collar he summoned around your neck choke you blue but you cling to him like a source of light. Riddle can crumble right there and now.

You’re not making his feelings any better as soon as he learns of your past. It just encourages him to be harsher, understand that everything he did is for you, us! Riddle however, would be much generous of your tolerance. Cooing rather than yelling at you for dropping something. You mustn’t be too clumsy, Riddle expects the best performance from you after a three hour long session.

It’s kitten licks once he’s over his brutish tendencies, doting you like the perfect spouse you were meant to be. All your wounds tell a story, how rough the two of you had it (even if the injuries are yours solely), what’s a better love story? Riddle built you solely for the sake of your relationship, the moment you let yourself be known that his teachings and rules are one to be taken serious. He’s groaning in his hands by how perfect you’ve become.

Riddle makes you dance on eggshells, because you rather keep your mouth shut and let it be he takes control of every move you make, all the things you eat to wear will be supervised by him. You love him too much to say no.

Trey Clover has you under his thumb.

Doesn’t Trey know better? Of course he did, he always does. Trey understands the way your mind worked before you could, you like the way he insults you, no amount of tears can hide that familiarity of fondness from him. Like a child being sent to time out, Trey will open his arms to you after you learn your lesson.

See? He feeds you, he provides your need once your good. Because good, obedient things like you deserve nothing but his presence. Isn’t that enough, he’s enough, you really can’t get away from him either way.

When your feelings get hurt, he will dig himself into your comfort zone, find him, Trey will console you the best he can before flicking your forehead. Kiss his cheek as a thank you, he’ll remind you that no one else will do these sorts of things when times get rough. Only Trey will. So he’ll wait until you decided to show up at his doorstep.

He knows you can’t separate the difference between love and abuse, you don’t need to, all he’s worried about is getting you away from everyone else. They’re hurting you so much he’s running out of medical supplies to patch you up. Stay with him, in his arms, his home, as you eat, sleep, think, see him everyday.

Trey will gladly give you his attention, just give yourself to him. Don’t fight it, the thought never crosses your mind.

Cater Diamond comes to a conclusion.

He’s quick to pick up your behavior. Don’t call him an expert, but Cater can spot a neglected child like you a mile away. He at first would pass you by, you got a lot going on man.

Unless you attract his attention, Cater pops up once in a while to see how things are going. Let himself relax, hand supporting his head as you ramble on your day, Cater doesn’t bother to pretend he’s listening nor interested. He is however, eyeing the bruise on your neck. Cater can do a lot without interrogating or forcing you, your reluctance is adorable, keep up that nervous smile as he takes a couple of pics of your bloodied nose and forehead.

Cater considers you to be helpless, for a person to accept their loss and let the world decide whether you’ll die or live under their hands. It’s awful, but he won’t do anything to stop it. You make him think a lot. He won’t show it nor express his opinion, but Cater wonders if you know what true love is. He knows this sick obsession he has for you is nothing compared to the real thing. But you won’t complain, so he crushes your skull with his hands just to be in your personal space. That look on your face is priceless.

Years of conflict battles in his mind, should he revel his true self to you? He’s so dull, you don’t seem to care much as long as he’s speaking to you in that monotone voice. You’re so strange.

A long ride of emotions go through him, he knows you won’t laugh in his face or push his boundaries, he’s made sure of that by drilling it in your head that Cater Diamond can easily put you six feet under if you tried. You’re sweet, kissing him up and consoling him, he feels terrible that he had to push his way through when you so happily let him in.

Ace Trappola tests your loyalty.

No normal person likes to be pushed around, Ace figured you must’ve been some sort of masochist.

One of the many things he did to get on your nerves was ditch you for his group. Did he invite you to hang out? Sorry, you must have heard him wrong, but you can always latch on to them later if you’re that lonely. Ace doesn’t miss the way you take that opportunity, sticking to his side and only talking when someone asks you a question. Either that you basked in his presence.

Ace tested the waters little by little with new schemes, pushing you into tight spaced closets or putting bugs in your clothes. Forcing you to touch something be set on fire or nudge your gut too harshly to set you back into reality. And all of it, you come running back to him.

You make him feel bad, the more he has you in his arms, shaking as you beg him to not leave you over and over. How brainless can you be? Who are you to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do with you, how dare you make him sick to his stomach as he brings you closer while rubbing your back tenderly.

Don’t whine too much when he throws an arm around another person, exclaiming how pretty they are compared to you. He has no problem saying all of these things in your face if you dare look his way. Please look his way Look at how sweet the kisses are, it’s not rough and mean when he does it with you!!!

Deuce Spade tries again and again.

With Ace not mouthing his ear off, Deuce can happily hold you close to him. Your finger nails all dirty from clawing the floor and face swollen from the metal bar he used after finding you talking to someone that wasn’t him or Ace. You’re doing so good, listening to his sorries as he preps kisses on your lips.

The fear of your rejection is nonexistent, cuddling up by his side with an arm around you, you’re showing Deuce the submission he sought out for. You’re docile. And it makes him happy, you’re happy.

Deuce will promise to never hurt you again, as long as you stay by his side he will never leave you. So don’t mind if he gets angry sometimes, it’s the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it, don’t cry he’ll wipe your tears with more promises. Deuce loves you, so, so much.

You bring yourself back, you’re getting more beat up than usual. He finds it in his heart to push you away during times like these, but you insist. He needs you just as badly as you needed him, the two of you finding comfort in one another as he runs a finger down the scars on your collarbone. The bruise ring near your throat has him in a trance. Your body knows and accepts it.

Unfortunately you accept Deuce. You could say the blind leading the blind fits perfectly.

Leona Kingscholar lets you stick around.

Are you throwing yourself at him? Do you seek his attention purely for your own desire, Leona can see the way your eyes shine brighter after seeing him. Does his cold nature entice you, does it make you lean close to his claws as they scratch at your cheeks and chin?

Leona’s tail will fester in a slow yet excited tempo, each time you come back to him after he tells you to fuck off just to bring him a snack. He guess he can entertain you for a while, just don’t get used to it, he has better things to do than playing babysitter with you. ….Oh come back, it was a joke, can’t take humor well now he sees.

Sing him his praises, tell him how handsome he is even when he points out your flaws. Snuggle against his palm like you crave the hurt, his fangs snarling when you pull back. Leona won’t deny it any longer, such a sweet thing is too good to pass up. You don’t run away when he gets too rough, Leona has to remind himself how fragile magicless toys are, he’s not looking to break you so early on. Not that he needs to, you don’t seem to search for any sort of attention but his.

You must remember that Leona can’t always be there to keep you in check. Going days without seeing you, when needed that look, his hands on you in whichever way, bend and twist till you felt like screaming.

Patience is key, Leona decided it’s better that you stay with him, only. There isn’t any reason to leave, he’s got everything covered, so don’t listen when he whispers to you in the dead of night that he’ll toss you once you serve it’s purpose. It’s a way for you to tightly wrap your arms around him with a cry.

Ruggie Bucchi is complexed of your relationship.

If it weren’t for his fondness of you, Ruggie would have left you to fend for yourself. He’s putting in effort, alright, Ruggie doesn’t have time to be at your side everyday of the hour. You stress him out so bad.

He keeps to himself about his feelings regarding of your relationship with everyone else, as Ruggie makes himself of some use, the back of his mind tells him he isn’t enough. It should be a good thing! You’re getting the attention you crave, but Ruggie wants to be your attention, so he gets more aggressive with you. Ruggie often drifts to what more can he be than your side job of a babysitter. When it becomes too much he’ll ghost you for a couple of weeks to calm down.

Ruggie never thought he would find himself with you of all people, he’s so use to pushing you away, only interacting with you since you cry too much or Leona told him to check up on you. He’s angry at you for messing with him, you must forget who’s in charge of the situation (he’s expressing himself here).

In a perspective, Ruggie is cleaning up everyone’s mess, you, you’re getting the privilege of being a pain and no one is stopping you. Ruggie wants to stop you, not that he cares for your well being, but extra work isn’t rewarding him…..enough. You thank Ruggie for tending to your wounds but never ask him to talk about his day. Being under the food chain is nothing, but to you, doesn’t he deserve a better place than that?

Choosing him will make him annoyed, cheesy, yet annoyed. How much longer must he play pretend until you lay your head on his chest and indicate his love for you. Ruggie would rather eat mouthfuls of dirt before confessing. You make his head hurt, so he goes back to distancing until he’s ready to deal with you again.

Jack Howl swears to change.

It’s like a slap to the face. Whether you directly or hint it to him, Jack feels like the worst person in all of Twisted Wonderland. He’s supposed to be good, not bad and treat you like shit.

Your belief of any sort of attention is love, bad love, is good enough—Jack will have a meltdown. Did he not succeed to make you comfortable? He prides it in himself to change your views, Jack will show you what love is. But it’s not easy when he’s too shy to hold your hand. He has to be pushed in the situation to even touch you, you’ll take it the wrong way of him not wanting to touch you at all, that’s not true!

Protecting you is his job, not full time. If he could, Jack sets rules for you, one is to stop interacting with anyone that hurts you. Don’t show him that blissed expression after being tugged and called a bitch, it makes his tail stiff. It’s degrading, and he’s not the one being degraded. You make him feel like a joke, his actions aren’t enough that you actively search for more of that abuse, Jack would kill you.

He isn’t perfect on the ideally healthy relationship. He slips up time to time when it comes to your well being. He swears he knows best, because you’re just a fuck up that let’s everyone walk on you. He’s doing it again-he’s being mean; all is forgiven when he’s holding his head to your lap as he mutter an apology.

Jack may not have a good grip of your problem, but he wished you seek him out other than their abusive behavior. Jack is good if you’re happy and he thinks you did good. Focused on his happiness, you’re a little addicted to his controlling energy, just don’t say it to his face.

Azul Ashengrotto finds you in pathetic.

Fucked up trauma and you decided to come for him to cope. Azul is nerved by this fact, who enjoys suffering the worst kinds of attention, you’re clearly not loved enough, where is your respect??

Azul will blabber on, as if he’s not walking into your little world of misfortune. Sneering your way and rolling his eyes, it makes you attach to him in an instant. Is that attractive to you, to be an asshole who walks over you as a crumb of attention. Through all the scoffing and insults, Azul falls deeper to fill in that hole. Let his hand tighten around your forearm for getting in his way. Or getting in your personal space and accusing you of being a pervert. Just keep seeking out for him, he’s hungry to indulge unintentionally.

As a NORMAL person, Azul begs the Gods to stop him from continuing this madness. You plague him, and it’s insane he lets this continue any further. He should’ve stopped you, himself, anything from calling you a nauseous to pretty in seconds.

But you keep bothering him, finding a way to be at his side. He doesn’t push you away, warning you to make the best out of his time before he decides to do something more important than pleasing your desperate self. His doors are always open to you.

If you want it so badly then fine. Azul, behind closed doors, will allow you to look at him, touch him, put your head on his thigh as his index rub circles around the fading bruise on your neck. Glance up at him lovingly, thank him for giving such good attention. Azul can purr under all this affection.

Jade Leech is all too happy.

You accept every slap on the wrist as a necessity. Your wrong doings of not giving Jade his usual attention span, taking it with tears threatening to fall from your puffy eyes. You know not to cry because he’ll make it a big deal, wipe your tears and accept his love.

Without a doubt, Jade isn’t afraid to confess to you, fingers dragging against the marked skin of teeth that blossoms a deep and dark color. He does it because he loves you, you know? Isn’t this what you’re use to, his love taps are a reminder, he loves yoouu. Listen to him tell you how much he wishes to leave you in the crashing waves of the sea, that’s just him telling you how you aren’t strong enough to care for yourself.

Jade wants you to realize that you aren’t capable of making it on your own, he’s your proof of it. Be sweet and let him pinch your cheeks for taking his procedures so well.

What a poor thing to sap on his abusive techniques, Jade wonders if you truly enjoy the attention, how far is it to love before you’re screaming for him to stop and let you go? Is it until what little is left of your self respect that has you begging for him to look at you? Jade is happy to do so, you’re so entertaining to have around!

Be aware, since Jade fully understands how you react to his actions he’ll have no issue stripping it away. Mommy didn’t praise you enough; so he won’t tell you how good you did for letting him dunk your head in water. Daddy never apologized after a fight; he won’t even leave you a note and remind you how undeserving you are to him.

Floyd Leech makes the most of it.

A darling that throws itself at him isn’t that bad, Floyd can make use of it. You’re just lucky you’re so cute and biteable. If you run for him and let him chase you it may last, catching him pent up to the point he wanted to rip your tendons isn’t though.

Floyd constantly calls for you when he wakes up, have you by his side when he sleeps. His attention is overwhelming, don’t go complaining this late, you’re far too gone the rabbit hole.

What other factors does it come with? Don’t be boring on him now, make Floyd work for it, make him confused, surprised, intrigued. Spice it up by hesitating when he questions if he can get inside your rib cage. Your face is the highlight of his day, shrimpy knows how to please him. Floyd will outright confess his gratitude for you, it’s him calling you out for your own unhealthy coping, down to each flaw and how it makes you more enjoyable.

He’s great at reading the room it’s just he doesn’t put that knowledge to use with you, whether you can put up with it during a long period of time Floyd is there to terrorize you until you had enough. He’s a hundred percent positive you would get fed up, having to live in fear he would get aggressive, or sweet, it depends.

With so many choices and your endless possibilities of a reaction Floyd is like a child receiving their first ever birthday gift. It’s new each time. It gives him something different to experiment, he’s not stopping yet before you get on your knees and beg him to leave you be.

Vil Schoenheit takes advantage of you.

This is exactly what Vil feared. He doesn’t know if he should enjoy this or correct you, not when you seek him out like he so badly wishes he can do. Vil envies you, if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would smother you to death with his unhealthy dose of love, you’ll like it.

Vil finds it hard to be rough with you, not getting on his nerves and you openly encourage him to do more. To be Vil’s comfort is embarrassingly giddy when he thinks of it at night, he was keen on the thought that he wouldn’t go so low to let you eat it. His attention that is. But stopping anytime soon is not easy, he can just eat you up for making him act like some rabid animal.

This means Vil can take out his frustration on you without you begging for him to kill you. A sane person would’ve insulted him till their last dying breath, that he’s a monster for even picking on the weak. Naturally, someone like you shudders at Vil’s remarks.

Vil wants YOU to be desperate for his attention, not the other way around. Treat him like a God, grovel on your knees and kiss him up. Don’t mind the way he discreetly rolls his eyes to the back of his head with a hand covering his mouth. His words are mean and untrue, pushing his heeled shoe on your head so you don’t look up at him. Not yet.

Who knows who’s gaining what in this situation. You’re getting what you wanted, and so is he, in a farther abnormal substance. Vil has your deprived mind in his greedy hands, directing you his reasons as to why he does things. Factually, someone like him shouldn’t have to explain to the likes of you.

Rook Hunt declares his innocence.

Rook would never hurt you! Everything he does is from the honesty of his heart, it’s not his fault you can’t take criticism. Oh but you do, you try to change and Rook notices that.

A tube of lipstick can do a lot on a person, once you listen on his advice Rook is smitten. The hurt in your eyes and the next day you’re looking up to him for approval. He sighs with a hand on his chin, it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the color looked alright. You can always touch up on your brows once and a while you know. Rook loves this side of you. He loves every expression and attitude you throw his way, you make his time so enduring.

He’s always greeting you with open arms and grabby hands, burying his nose in your hair to take a deep inhale of your scent. You smell different, new shampoo? Or did you hang around another person? Rook will try to ignore the subtle threat in his gut, as much as he adores this quirky behavior of yours, letting you be used as a pawn isn’t in his favor. He can admire from afar but he’ll want the real thing with him sooner or later.

See, Rook isn’t like those viscous things. He can treat you just like them if you ask nicely. But he’s too busy grabbing your face and rubbing his cheeks against yours. “Your skin is a little oily”— while blushing madly, the thought of your dead skin cells are touching his makes him merry.

He’s gross, but don’t comment on it too often, can’t you appreciate his affection and kindness. He’s not tearing you apart after all, he can hold himself better! Rook wants to let himself be free with you, but doing so will make you run no matter how much you reassure him of your decision. For now, let him play with your emotions for a while, show him more of what you can give him. It’s fair.

Epel Felmier loves you to death.

Epel can suffer through it. You don’t know what you’re doing to him, giving him the thumbs up when he tugs at your hair to face his way. What a sicko!!

He won’t shy from it, a little, but he’s precise on his feelings. Whispering in your ear how disgusting you are for exploiting yourself to other men and women. You love the attention don’t you? Epel can provide that for you, he can do anything to prove to you that he’s better than the others. So stop looking at them and kiss him better as an apology if you wanna start…

Are you enjoying the attention or is he? Epel is clingier, his grip on your fingers hurt because he’s too busy announcing his future with you. A nice little thing waiting at his beck and call, allowing him to degrade you when his days are busy and rough. He’s going off, you’re not sure if you like the idea but it makes him happy. You need him happy or he’ll make sure you don’t get any sort of attention.

Epel needs to be in check, he’s still young about love and how it works. Since he’s so stubborn it’s difficult for anyone to tell him off, calling your partner a dumbass because you didn’t pick up his thick accent isn’t very nice.

Typically, he goes to his elders for help. Epel has a hunch that you being okay with all of this isn’t normal. They all tell him differently on how to handle you, make the best of it or be more strict in case you’re trying to trick him. Any type of lying is met with his fist to your gut…. He’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and apple slices as an apology once he finds out you actually love him back.

Erratic, one might say, Epel thinks with his heart than head, much like Deuce. He has a problem with controlling his emotions, it’s overwrought to be this depressing over you and himself. If you can survive Epel’s errors of ways he might just put a ring on that finger.

Idia Shroud bites more than he can handle.

Gwaah, you’re so miserable he has to look the other way at how embarrassing you are. Seriously, Idia is mean, sure, but that’s because you can’t stand up for yourself. Will he be able to? Only the future will tell, but he’ll just respond with the fact it didn’t happen so it’s not his problem.

All the yapping but he’s keeping you locked in his arms as he plays games for the next three hours. Pinching at your side to stop you from squirming, he reminds you that YOU wanted this. Idia personally believes that you accepting his weird behavior makes you a weirdo but 10x worse, in reality he’s stabbing his nails against the palms of his hands from exploding. His hair gives it away.

You’re not like a cat, a cat would hiss and scratch from all the abuse you’ve been through. Rather a wet dog that comes crawling with the hunger of love, no matter what kind. Even if that love hits you, tells you how little worth you are, it’s love in some way because he’s watching you through the cameras. You have to be teasing him for how many times you call out his name during your naps. He’s so glad you took in the plushies, your face is worth a shit ton once he gets Azul to bargain a pay.

Idia will deny you of attention, it’s so embarrassing to come up to him of all people. Don’t say weird things out loud in public will you? It freaks him out, he’s a loser at heart but that’s because he respects privacy (not yours though).

Behind closed doors he’ll gradually open up to you, it’s more than he can handle when you’re so eager to have him around. Idia will learn to enjoy the attention, it won’t soothe his heart nor the bursting of flames of his hair that tickles your skin every time you hug him after he degrades you. You’re going to be the death of him.

Malleus Draconia spoils you rotten.

Searching for that nasty push and shove isn’t on his list. Malleus, confused as to why you enjoy being bossed and thrown around like some ragdoll. If it makes you happy….he guess he can play along.

Malleus pays attention to your body language, what makes you squirm into his arms when he tells you he’d gauge your eyes out for looking at another person. Not that he would do so, he likes your eyes so much! Malleus prances around on your idea of the ideal relationship. You’re scraping whatever he gives you, Malleus is showing you all of it. He’s happy you feel the same.

He doesn’t correct you, because he himself doesn’t see the problem of the two of you, it’s love, let it be. With no one to tell him, Malleus is selfish of your free will. You always let him touch you, hold you, bruise you (accidentally). You’re practically letting him eat from your hand as he does with you, if you like getting hurt he’ll let his nails leave trails of scars on your back. But tell him you like it, he wants to know he’s doing good.

You won’t be needing anybody else’s attention but Malleus, he takes up most of your time and day. You’ll be taken with him at this point, that is if you willingly move in with him. Malleus grows more paranoid each day seeing that you run around looking for more, greedy thing, he’ll hold back so much before locking you up forever.

Praise him. Malleus returns everything you do, all met with luxury as long as you stay by his side. If you stop responding to him he isn’t a happy camper, look, look at him, do you want to get roughed up?? You won’t mouth a thing so he might as well show you how far his patience wears.

Lilia Vanrouge plays it like normally.

You bring something new to Lilia like a box of chocolates. Why wouldn’t you want his love, it’s all tease until he grows bored enough to put his hands on you.

Lilia juggles your inexperience self in a loop, he’s keeping you on your toes. He can’t scold you when you find it deserving, he wants you to know it’s intentional, being mean that is. Just because he’s looking you up and down doesn’t mean it’s good, no. Lilia will train your mind to recognize the difference of rewarding you for the sake of your sanity and punishing you for doing bad.

Don’t take his word for granted, Lilia absolutely loves it when you coddle up to him, you cling to his every word and do silly tricks without asking. Your oblivious nature to his cruelty entertains him, there isn’t any backing down or settling less once he takes notice of your questionable quirks. In fact Lilia is sure he’s seen these types of response before, poor things handed to the wrong people, as if he’d make himself better for your sake.

Getting a little too deep with your private background, Lilia is curious as to what makes you nostalgic. Were any of your parents present? Did they look over your achievements, your hobbies, the things you like and dislike to eat? Would you cry on his shoulder if he asked? Lilia wants all the answers, so he can see and mirror that exact moment. He’s just a little nicer about it, it’s all jokes remember that.

Silver makes you see differently.

You don’t find the time for the Silver haired man. He speaks to the animals and sleeps most of the time, there isn’t much to look for. Silver however, tries his best to stay awake when you come around. Looking more presentable and making small talk when you decide to speak to him and not his father or Sebek.

When you’re so used to it, you expect the worst to happen. Falling and breaking your nose, but Silver gracefully catches you before you fall. Like the fairytales you use to read as a child, it feels like a dream being held so gently and cared for. Silver would randomly send you notes from a dove, often times telling you how nice your hair looked or that your smile is pretty. Once consumed by the dirty look and pinches you’ll crave Silvers voice.

He bids you farewell on days you want to be left alone, to isolate and cry for hours. He waits patiently by your door with a nice homemade meal he learned from a book. Silver is the definition of comfort. You’re saying that probably because it’s genuine affection, not that you’ll know any better.

Your body is always somehow mangled or damaged, noticeable, yet Silver doesn’t berate you for letting it happen. Instead he takes your hands in his and pull them close to his mouth as he tells you to stay with him. He won’t let them hurt you. He promises. Promises are silly, but you couldn’t help but nod.

Silver will take what he knows from his father about love. If it meant locking hiding you for your sake then be it. You’re like danger magnet, Silver will defend you to the best of his capabilities. Your Prince Charming is all you could ask for, through the guilt he feels, stuck in his throat because he knows what he’s doing isn’t right. Your’e too far gone to see it, soon, he will too.

Sebek Zigvolt gives in to your delusions.

Clueless. Someone has to tell him in his face and maybe write it down, Sebek doesn’t read too well with humans oddity. Sebek does acknowledge your submissive character, he refuse to praise it though.

Going for him is super easy, Sebek is yelling most of the time and has his hands somewhere on you while he’s at it. No one butts in to stop him, he’s a little slow when you act all meek and agree without a hint of sarcasm. The irony of it. Sebek continuously falls for your trap, once he puts the pieces together you’re in for it.

At first he’s real smug about it, as expected you come to him of all people for attention, Sebek is great at socializing! Second, don’t forget who has the upper hand, he’ll dangle it around but the bait will fall in. Sebek tries to be the mastermind behind it, but he’s not successful enough if he keeps giving you exactly what you’re after. He slaps himself every time it happens, self control is important in a knight, so he stays by your side with the intention of ignoring you.

But that doesn’t work out, you make him so pissed he’s not even sure why!? Looking at him all needy, your scent is overwhelming too when was the last time you showered? (He deeply inhales whenever he gets the chance). You’re purposely trying to get him to fail his lesson. A lesson he made up entirely.

Doing nothing is something to him. Being near him is setting him off. He’s straightening his posture and giving you his best glare. And without thinking he’s opening his big fat mouth to lecture you,.

[hhughes]

୨୧ ⋅ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒﹙⠀JH86⠀﹚

⠀⠀╰  ꒰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ◞ fem!wife!reader x jack hughes

⠀⠀╰  ꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ◞ in which Jack's wife is pregnant and a little emotional.

⠀⠀╰  ꒰ 𝐜𝐰 ◞ just fluff!

⠀⠀╰  ꒰ 𝐰𝐜 ◞ 1.5K

⠀⠀╰  ꒰ 𝐚/𝐧 ◞ husband!jack has become a favourite of mine. . .

"Babe” Jack whispers.

“Hm?”

“Can you scoot over a bit?” he asks

“I’m on the edge”

He looks over his shoulder, right at the face of his beautiful wife.

“Babe, I find that hard to believe,”

“What?” you ask, a little disoriented.

“There’s no way you’re on the edge when your face is pressed into my back, your legs are tangled with mine and our child is kicking me in the back.”

“But I am,”

“You’re not,” Jack argues.

“You scoot over,”

“I can’t. I’m on the edge of our California King bed that you insisted we get because you didn’t want to touch during the night because you always get too hot. Yet, you’re laying on top of me,”

“I am not,” you complain, nuzzling closer, if that were possible. “Shh go to sleep.”

Jack sighs loudly and says, “I can’t. You’re too hot and our child is kicking me in the back.”

“Yeah well, welcome to my world buddy. Can you stop talking? I'm tired.” you say.

Usually Jack wouldn’t care. He’d deal with it because he loved you and he wanted you to be comfortable, but he needed to get up early tomorrow morning and he really needed a good night’s sleep. Jack was beyond stressed. It felt like he was always 2 seconds away from having a panic attack.

His constant worry about you was driving him insane, but then he also had hockey to think about. The Devils had just lost in the third round of the playoffs. They were so close. Jack wanted nothing more than to win and hold that cup up. But then he realised he was about to hold his baby, and that was an even greater prize.

That was if he didn’t kill you first.

Turning over, you glared at him as he popped his head on one arm, looking over her to the amount of space behind you. “Baby, we could literally fit all my teammates beside you,”

“What does that mean?” you ask frowning

“I’m saying scoot the hell over!” he says, his voice rising. “You’re burning me up!”

“I want to sleep with you,”

“You are, but just give me some space so I don’t die of heatstroke!”

“Ugh, fine.” you say annoyed and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

Jack sighs, shaking his head and lays back down. He could finally breathe, but just as he’s about to fall asleep you say, “I just think it’s messed up that you won’t cuddle with me and I’m carrying your child, which is the reason I’m burning up!”

Jack opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. Here they go again.

“Sweetheart, I love cuddling with you. But I have to be up early to do press and clean out my locker. I can’t sleep through that and I definitely can’t sleep with you burning me up and our child kicking me the whole night. I love you though, you know that right?” Jack asks, looking over at you with a soft smile.

But you were glaring, lips pursed as you glared at him. “Oh yeah, I forgot it’s so hard being Jack Hughes and you need all the sleep you can get. While I can’t sleep a certain way due to the fact that it hurts because I’m the thing your child is sucking the life out of.”

“I thought you loved being pregnant.”

“I do!” you yell and his brows go up. “That’s not the point. I’m just reminding you that I don’t get to sleep or do any of the things that I wanna do anymore, but it’s fine. I’ll sleep all the way over here without the love and support from my husband because he needs to get some sleep. God forbid you don’t get any sleep.” you mumble and Jack wants to laugh. You were being ridiculous. But before he could tell you that, you look over to him and say, “And just a friendly reminder Jack Hughes, when this baby comes, say fucking good-bye to sleep.”

“I guess I should say good-bye to sleep now, because I’m sure as hell not getting any more tonight,” Jack says, holding your gaze.

Your eyes darken a little and Jack swears he’s never seen anyone as beautiful as his wife. Even when you’re a little crazy, hostile, and 7 months pregnant, you were still hot as fuck.

“You got that right, I just wanted to cuddle,” you say rolling away from him again.

When Jack hears you sniff he can’t help but smile. The emotional rollercoaster of a pregnant wife was no joke. Reaching out, he went to cuddle with you, but you smack his hand away.

“I don’t wanna cuddle now,” you mutter

“Fine,” Jack sighs, falling back onto his own pillow. Sometimes he just really couldn't win with you.

“I just want you to know, I did want to cuddle. But that’s gone now.”

“I hear you.” Jack replies.

“And I’m very upset.”

“I got that.” he says with a sigh, rolling on his side to look at you.

“I just don’t think it’s fair. I cook, I clean, I work. And I’m carrying your child.”

“And I appreciate you more than words can ever say.” Jack says sincerely.

“Then you'd cuddle with me!” you say exasperated.

“But baby, I need sleep too. And you’re literally a furnace.”

“Well if you need sleep so badly and I’m too hot and our baby won’t stop kicking you then go sleep somewhere else!” you yell

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Go to the couch”

Surely you were joking. But then you yank the covers off him and pull his pillow from under him, throwing both on the floor. He stands up and goes to pick up his pillow.

“I need sleep and I’m too mad to sleep with you here.” you mutter

“Because I won’t cuddle with you?”

“Yes!” you yell tears streaming down your face.

“Then come here, I’ll cuddle.” he says and ducks when you throw another pillow at his head.

“No! I don’t want to cuddle anymore!” you yell

“Then let’s just go to bed.” Jack mumbles

‘No! I’m mad!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jack says with a laugh, and why he would do that would be his last thought.

“Go!” you yell.

“If I go, I’m not coming back tonight.” Jack says

“That’s fine. Maybe tomorrow you won’t mind cuddling your wife and child.”

“Sweetheart, I said let’s cu-”

“I don’t wanna cuddle!” you yell laying your head on the pillow with a sob. “I just wanted you to want to cuddle with me!”

Watching as you cried, Jack sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He picked up his pillow and looked at you one more time. “You sure?”

“Yes. You broke my heart Jack.” you say.

He went to say something sassy back but he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere so instead he said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t wanna cuddle because of the blazing heat you were putting off. I love you. Good night.”

When you don't answer, Jack chuckles as he walks out of the room. His girl was so stubborn. Heading to the couch he lays down and stares at the ceiling. Only two more months and maybe he would get his normal wife back. He was lucky that some of the guys on the team had kids and also went through this process. If not he wouldn’t know it was normal for his wife to be completely and utterly irrational about the dumbest things.

Tonight it was cuddling.

Last week, it was because he ate the last oreo.

Next week, it might be because he breathed a little too hard.

Jesus. Two more months. He could do it.

Leaning back on his pillow he closed his eyes, thankful that he chose to spend so much money to get a comfortable couch. He hopes you stopped crying. He hates when you cry. He was tempted to check but he really didn’t want you to bite his head off. Just as he was about to drift off he felt someone beside him.

Opening his eyes, he saw you standing there.

You looked adorable, hair a mess, cute pyjama shorts, cheeks flushed. Wearing one of Jack’s T-shirts that you cropped. It kinda made you look like Winnie the Pooh. Jack still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jack?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Can I lie with you?”

Chuckling to himself he scooted over as far as he could to make space for you. As you lay down your stomach presses into his and Jack wraps his arms around you, kissing you cheek.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby. I’m sorry too.” Jack whispers.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” Jack says kissing you again.

The next morning, when he woke up with a sore back, all he could do was repeat three words over and over.

Two more months. Two more months. Two more months.

[wearebarca]

Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 4,3k

A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

“ You are telling me that tomorrow, Alexia Putellas is taking you on a date.” Lia Walti is a very calm and down to earth person, which is why Rosalie valued the woman’s advice and opinion. It had been a while since she had called her friend, the last time was her first week in Barcelona, but after her afternoon at the beach, Rosalie needed some of that calmness and a fresh set of eyes on the situation.

“ I mean, is it really a date? I basically forced her to spend the day with me. Besides, she could’ve just said that to confirm the time and not the fact that it’s a date. English is tricky as hell, you know.” Behind the Swiss, Rosalie could hear a loud laugh followed by a few sentences that made the player laugh. “ Is that Leah grumbling in the background?”

“ Yes, wait, she’s coming.” Shuffling could be heard as Leah Williamson appeared in the camera frame, next to Lia.

“ I said that of course, Alexia Putellas, twice Ballon d’Or winner, international football star, doesn’t know proper English. Of course Frenchy, that makes perfect sense.” Leah said, with a serious expression that soon faded once she saw her friend’s pout.

“ I didn’t ask for your opinion, Grumpy.”

“ It’s my pleasure to provide my valuable insight nonetheless.”

“ I just don’t know how to treat tomorrow, you know.” The two Arsenal players could see how this was affecting their friend, but they both knew that the French-Canadian was simply scared after what had happened in England. All she needed was that little push to dare let herself be comfortable with another again.

“Listen Liebling, tomorrow is nothing more than two people spending a day off together. Nothing more, nothing less. You simply enjoy the time you spend with her and the rest just comes naturally.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.” Leah said, earning a small slap from the swiss. Rosalie took a deep breath. Her friends were right, this was no different from the supper they shared in Sevilla, but still, she could not help her anxiousness at the thought of spending the whole day with the captain.

“ Do you know what time she’s going to pick you up? Or are you meeting her somewhere?” Lia asked.

Rosalie froze. She had not realized that she had not discussed this with Alexia, nor did she get the blonde’s phone number before leaving the beach. “I don’t know, I didn’t take her phone number.” She all but whispered. A thud was heard in her phone speaker. She looked up only to see Leah’s head had made contact with their table. Lia was laughing.

“Can’t you just DM her?”

“What if she doesn’t answer her DM’s? She probably gets a hundred a day and doesn’t check them anymore. I don’t know, how am I…”

“Ok take a breath Frenchy, Grandma Bronze probably has her number.” Leah said, interrupting her friend that was clearly spiraling. Rosalie hadn’t thought about that. Otherwise, Ingrid probably had it too.

“Right, I should text her to see.”

“You do that Frenchy.” Leah said. “And don’t forget to tell us about your date, we’re invested now.”

“By the way, can you remind us of your marathon’s date so we can book our plane tickets.” Lia asked excitedly.

“ It’s the week after national camp.” The Canadian said checking her calendar where the dates were highlighted.

“ Are you still our photographer for camp and the Euros?” Leah asked.

“ I just confirmed it with the Lionesses management, yes! I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ve missed you.” Rosalie said excitedly.

“Are you flying with the Barcelona girls or leaving early to prepare?”

“ I’m flying with them, the marathon is three days after so I should be fine.”

“ We’ll meet you in Barcelona the day before the race. You should send us your address so we can book the closest hotel to your place.” Rosalie was about to answer when her phone started to vibrate. Upon a closer look, she realized that it wasn’t a number she recognized. She picked up the phone from the counter and opened her texts.

“ Hola Rosalia, Lucia gave me your number I hope it is ok:)”

Rosalie was silent, eyes fixed on her phone, offering the two Arsenal girls a perfect view of her wide eyes and forehead. There is only one person who called her Rosalia“ She texted you, didn't she?” Leah said matter of factly.

“ Mhm”

“ Answer her Frenchy, for fuck’s sake.” Leah said, exasperated by her friend’s behavior.

“ We’re gonna leave you to it Rosie.” Lia said, trying to calm down Leah who, even if she tried to deny it, was very much invested in the situation.

“ Merci les filles, I appreciate it a lot. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Go get her Frenchy.” Rosalie rolled her eyes then ended the call. And focused on the Spanish captain’s message.

“ Of course it’s ok :) I was wondering how you wanted things to work for tomorrow.”

“ I thought I could come pick you up around 10 if that’s ok with you, we could go get coffee and go to the market from there.”

“ Sounds good to me! I will send you my address.”

“ perfecto. See you tomorrow Rosalia.”

For the rest of the night, Rosalie spent her time deep cleaning her apartment. She wanted everything to be perfect for when Alexia would come. She picked her outfit, which consisted of flowy linen pants with a white tank top and a light sweater. After showering and making sure once again that her apartment looked presentable, she hopped in bed.

Unfortunately for the photographer, sleep did not come easy. An hour later, she was still tossing and turning, too apprehensive of tomorrow’s day to relax. After another half hour, she gave up and migrated to the couch with her laptop. If she was going to stay awake, she might as well make use of this time to get some work done.

A knock on the door woke the photographer up. It took a moment for Rosalie to realize that she actually never made it to her bed last night, and she had fallen asleep with her laptop opened by her side. Panic flooded her body as she jumped off the couch and ran to her bedroom to throw on the outfit she had chosen last night. Another knock followed by a small bark was heard and Rosalie all but ran to the door to unlock. She opened the door and bolted back in her room. “ I’m so sorry! I’m almost ready! Come in, make yourself home!”

She put her hair in a loose braid and grabbed the first cap she found in her closet and placed it on her head. Once satisfied with her appearance, she made her way to the living room, only to be met by a small excited ball of fluff. Alexia was still standing in the doorway, silently looking around the space. Rosalie picked up the small dog and made her way towards the footballer. “Allo! I’m sorry I seemed to have overslept.” she said with an apologetic smile.

Alexia broke out from her spell and smiled at the photographer. “Another late night working I see.” She said motioning towards the sofa where her computer and her pile of blankets from the night still laid.

“ Yeah, I couldn't sleep unfortunately.” A small smirk appeared on the captain’s features, but whatever she had been thinking about was eclipsed by Nala who had decided to give the smaller woman a deep face clean.

“Nala no!” Alexia said, reaching out to grab the little beast in order to make her stop her intensive licking.

“ Oh, it’s ok Ale I don’t mind.” She said, petting the small dog in her arms.

“ I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. We usually spend this type of day together, and she was very happy to know that we wouldn’t be alone today.”

“ I’m honoured to be allowed to spend the day with you guys.” She said laughing. “ I’m ready to head out if you are!”

They went down the stairs, Nala still in the photographer’s arms. Alexia’s car was parked right in front of her building. The footballer went ahead of her only to stop and open the door for the photographer. “ Merci! This is a nice car.”

“Si, we have a deal with the brand. It is fun to drive, more fun than your little car for sure.” She said with a teasing smile. Rosalie Let out a sound of indignation.

“Do not laugh at my car! It does the job very well!”

“ It’s so small, very cute.” Rosalie rolled her eyes which made Alexia laugh as she started the car and drove away. The drive was short and filled with laughter and fun banter, mainly about the photographer’s car.

“ I am only saying that you can’t carry a lot of stuff in this little car. It’s probably very uncomfortable.”

“It’s very spacious I’ll have you know!”

“It’s good for you I guess. Nina pequeña.”

“Hey! I’m average size!” The brunette said laughing as she turned around to look out the window. The streets looked familiar to the French-Canadian who realized that she had run here just before leaving for Sevilla.

“ I think I’ve run around here before.”

“This is my favorite part of the city. Only locals come here. The beach is nice and the little market is right next to it. It’s very calm.” She parked the car in a small street and got out to go around and opened the door for the photographer.as she stepped out of the car, she took a moment to really take in the blond. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a loose shirt she had left halfway unbuttoned so her bralette showed. Her trusty white nike hat completed the look. She was gorgeous and Rosalie’s nervousness spiked a little at the sight.

Rosalie handed the blond Nala’s leash and they started walking towards the small shops that were lining up the street. It was a lot more lively then the last time she came here. Families were walking around and people were sitting outside the restaurants. The photographer turned to look at the footballer. Alexia smiled at her and beckoned her towards a small, rustic looking coffee shop.

“This is our first stop.” She opened the door and Rosalie was instantly met with the smell of freshly brewed espresso and baked pastries. A loud gasp was heard in the small shop which made the brunette jump a little. A small woman, who looked around her mothers age was currently making her way from behind the counter towards the duo.

“Alexia mija donde has estado! ¡Hace mucho que no te vemos!”

“Lo siento señora García, no he tenido mucho tiempo últimamente. » Alexia said, stepping forward, letting the tiny woman hug her fiercely. Rosalie stayed behind with a smile on her face as she witnessed the interaction. The woman and Alexia were chatting rapidly in Spanish, making it hard for the photographer to understand anything. She zoned out for a moment, taking in the space. This cafe reminded her of the one near the training center but, this one felt even more homy and intimate. The walls were full of art work which upon a closer look at the identification tag, were all made by local artists and available for purchase. The wall closest to the register was a floor to ceiling library with a multitude of books and board games available for the customers. A small children sized table in the far corner of the room was filled with coloring books and various types of crayons. The art work displayed around the area was very obviously made by children, and Rosalie laughed a little when she realized that they too, were available for purchase.

Strong hands grabbed her waist and turned her around.The photographer came face to face with the small older woman. Her smile was warm and her arms were already opened, ready to engulf the photographer in a bone crushing hug.

“¿Es esta la razón por la que has estado tan ocupada, querida?”

“No señora, ella es la razón por la que finalmente me tomo un día libre.” Alexia said with a fond smile. At her words, señora Perez grabbed Rosalie’s shoulders.

“gracias, ella necesita relajarse más” She told the photographer, who stayed silent, not being able to make the translation in her head due to the rapidity of their speech.

“Inglés, señora, Rosalia is still learning Spanish”

“Yes I am sorry. You take good care of Alexia. Gracias.” Rosalie smiled at that. Meanwhile, Alexia was watching the two interact. Señora Perez had dragged the Canadian towards a wall filled with pictures, no doubt to share the shop’s history with the brunette. This place was her pride and joy, she poured everything into making this place feel like home for her customers, which is why this was one of Alexia’s favourite places in all of Barcelona.

She made her way to the counter to order their drinks. Alexia had never brought anyone here, not even her sister. This was her little oasis in a city where everyone knew her name. Here, she was treated like a normal person, like a daughter even, not like the captain of FC Barcelona.

Her cups were placed in front of her by none other than Señor Perez. “ She must be important if you brought her here.” He said, leaning on the counter, watching his wife proudly showing the pictures she took of the world cup.

“Si, I feel good with her.”

“You keep this. It is rare.” Señor Perez was a man of very few words, which reminded Alexia of her own father. The man’s advice was all the more important to her. Her thoughts were interrupted by Rosalie’s return by her side.

“You really flew them to the world cup?” The brunette asked something close to admiration in her eyes. Alexia smiled at the fond memory.

“Yes I did, along with my mother and sister.” She said smiling. “They are big football fans. They deserved it, they helped me alot during my recovery.”

“Rosalia said she will come work in photos here sometime. She will get me match pictures for my wall.” The older woman said with a radiant smile, arm still hooked with the photographer’s.

“If you don’t mind me coming, that is.” The brunette said with a shy smile.

“Of course she does not mind. You come here like home. You show me ingles y me Spanish.” Señora Perez said in a tone that did not allow discussion. Alexia laughed at the woman and grabbed hers and Rosalie’s coffee.

“ Gracias María.” She said she let the smaller woman hug her. She turned to hug the photographer and whispered something in her ear that made the brunette blush furiously.

“You come back now, with pictures for my wall.” She said waving at the pair. Alexia held the door open for the French-Canadian. As soon as they stepped outside, Nala took off on the sidewalk seemingly knowing exactly what their next stop would be. They walked in the small street, side by side, sipping on their coffees while observing scenery around them.

“ How did you find this place?” The brunette finally asked.

“ When I ruptured my ACL, I got in a dark space. Even after I got the green light to walk again without the crutches, I did not want to leave home. My family started to get worried. They almost forced me to get out, go on walks. My sister told me that it was the perfect moment to really explore Barcelona, see beyond the training center and stadium.” The blond said, looking at her feet with a sad expression.

“I stumbled on this place during one of those walks. When I came in the shop was full of families and everyone seemed so friendly and happy that I decided to stay for a moment. I was scared I would get recognized but no one came to my table. I came back the week after, and the week after that as well. The third week, while I was ordering my coffee, Maria came around and asked her husband if “Senora Putellas wanted something to eat with her coffee.” That’s when I realized that they knew who I was, but simply did not treat me any different.” She said, smiling at the brunette.

“ At that moment, I truly needed that. I was still feeling like I was letting people down, or that I would never come back from this injury. It became part of my routine. Several times a week, I would go there to deal with my emails or simply to spend some time away from the football world. They always welcomed me with open arms. I invited them to my first game back. Antonio and Maria are both big Barça supporters, so I got them season tickets and to really thank them for everything they did, I paid for their trip for the World Cup.”

“ They seem like such warm, genuine people.”

“ They really are.” The blond chuckled. “ Maria seems to like you a lot. You’re gonna have to come back, otherwise she will not stop pestering me to bring you back.” The brunette laughed at that.

“ I promised her some pictures afterall.” the brunette said, already excited to see the nice couple again. The pair turned the corner and headed down a street that Rosalie recognized as the one leading to the beach. She could see that Nala was getting excited and pulling more intensely on the leash. “ You said that you found this place on one of your walks? You must live close then.”

“ Si, a few streets from her in fact. I’ll show you one day.” Alexia said, with a playful smile, which made the brunette blush slightly. They reached the beach soon after. There weren't many people around, only the odd couple walking with their dog or a few families having a picnic. Alexia pulled out a small ball out of her bag and took off Nala’s leash who barked happily at the sight of the small football her mom was holding.

Rosalie thought she would melt on the spot. The captain threw the ball and the small dog instantly took off. Rosalie sat in the sand with her coffee, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelted of the sea and something sweet, like strawberries and coconut. The photographer opened her eyes and was met with shiny hazel ones.

“Your eyes are really beautiful.” Rosalie didn’t know what came over her. It was as if she could not control the words that came out of her mouth. The blond blushed furiously at the compliment. The photographer was about to apologise in fear of having been too forward but, she was interrupted by something resembling a little rat running towards them with the small football in its mouth.

“Nala! Seriously!” Alexia said, pulling out a small towel from her bag. “ She does this every time I’m distracted.” She said attempting to dry the small dog who was too excited to stay put.

“ Might as well let her play now that she’s already wet.” The photographer said laughing as she took the ball and threw it in the direction of the waves.

They stayed well after Nala exhausted herself running after her toy. She was now laying at Alexia’s feet, happily receiving pets from her mom.

“The only thing I miss about Canada is the nature really. Endless green forests with so many lakes.” Rosalie said with a nostalgic smile. “ It’s so beautiful, even during winter.”

“ I heard it gets very cold.” Alexia said with a grimace.

“ oh oui, where I’m from it gets as low as minus 30 degrees or more.”

“ I don’t like the cold.” Alexoa said, shivering just at the thought of such frigid conditions.

“ I bet you’d like skiing. You feel so free going down the mountain, like nothing can stop you.”

“ sounds dangerous to me. Although the after-ski sounds great.”

“ Yes! With hot chocolate and cheese-fondues and all the good stuff.” At the mention of food, a loud rumbling was heard coming from the photographer’s stomach. Alexia stood up and clipped Nala’s leash on her collar.

“ Let’s go to the market. We can find you something to eat there.” She said, holding out her hand for the photographer to grab.

The market was just a bit farther on the boardwalk, and was buzzing with merchants selling different types of products. It went from food like fresh vegetables to the latest catch of the day, as well as different artisanal items like handmade jewelry or little souvenir shops. Rosalie stopped in front of a display showing some bracelets harbouring the colours of their club. She decided she would get one and give it to Alexia at the end of the day. Unbeknownst to her, a few stands away, Alexia was currently picking out a similar gift, along with something that would calm the photographer’s hunger.

They arrived at Alexia’s car an hour later with bags filled with everything they needed to make Alexia’s paella. Rosalie was surprised to see that the footballer did not ask for her address or any directions to get back to her apartment.

Rosalie felt nervous at the thought of Alexia coming into her home. She’d always been skittish about inviting people in her space. It was her sanctuary and she had just started feeling home here, but seeing Alexia in her living room eyes scanning over the variety of cameras and pictures on display with Nala already making herself at home on her couch, Rosalie decided rather quickly that she did not mind having those two around.

“This is you and your uncle right?” Rosalie did not need to see on which picture Alexia had stopped. It surely was the one where she was on her uncle’s back after an important college football game. This was merely weeks before he had passed and it was one of the most precious memories she’d made. Sensing she had touched a sensitive subject, Alexia moved away from the picture and joined the French-Canadian in the kitchen area.

“ Now, I have heard that you are terrible at cooking, so you will do as I say, si?” Her tone was firm, yet playful as she was already taking control of the space. Rosalie felt a chill run down her spine at the blond’s words, but quickly shook it off. Or she thought so, because as soon as she turned around, the brunette felt hands at her waist, guiding them towards the cutting board and knife Alexia had set up for her.

“ Would you mind cutting these for me?” She asked, with her hands still lingering on the brunette’s hips. She was so close Rosalie could feel her breath tickling the hair at the base of her neck. She closed her eyes for a second, attempting to slow her breathing which had quickened at the captain’s touch.

“ Mhm,” Was all that she was able to answer.

“ Bueno, you can start with the onions and peppers.” she said, finally letting go of the photographer. During the whole preparation, Alexia made it incredibly hard for Rosalie to focus on not cutting off any of her digits. Everytime she would move around in the kitchen she would make sure to brush against the brunette or hold her by the waist when passing behind her. It was almost as if the Catalan woman was doing it on purpose. If only the Canadian would have turned around, she would have her suspicions confirmed by the smirk adorning the captain’s face every time she would notice the photographer’s breath hitch or the goosebumps that would form whenever she would utter more instructions close to her ear.

Rosalie was sure it was due to divine intervention if she was able to be of any use in the preparation of this meal. Her apartment was filled with the delicious smell of freshly made paella and Alexia looked satisfied with what they had cooked together. “ I think this is the closest it’s ever been to my mother’s” She said with a proud smile. “ All I needed was the right partner.”

The brunette smiled as she took out plates and made her way towards the living room when she had set up the coffee table. “ So what do you usually do while eating? Watch a movie, listen to music?”

“ I normally watch old games of our next opponents to study their plays better.” Alexia answered, bringing the dish to the table.

“ Even on your days off?” The blond gave an embarrassed smile as she pulled out her phone.

“ You did say you wanted to see what I do on my days off.” She said laughing. She pulled up on her phone the most recent Madrid CFF match she could find and casted it on Rosalie’s tv. They both ate while watching, occasionally discussing plays and weaknesses they could eventually use in the upcoming game. As the evening went on, both women slowly gravitated towards the center of the sof. Alexia ended up with her arm on the back of the couch, with the photographer practically nestled in the crook of her arm. It had been a long time since the captain had felt this relaxed in the presence of another person. She could feel the exhaustion slowly gaining on her, making her limbs and her eyelids heavy. The photographer shifted slightly, giving the perfect opportunity for the blond to finally warp her arm around the smaller woman’s frame.

“ Are you comfortable?” Alexia asked, turning her head slightly to watch the brunette melt in her arms.

“ Oui,” The answer came as a whisper. Alexia could see that the photographer was too, fighting against sleep. Still, she simply could not bring herself to leave, not when she felt this relaxed and at ease. She told herself that she would leave at the end of the game, so she could enjoy this peaceful moment a little while longer. Only her body had other plans, because just a few minutes later the footballer finally succumbed to the heavy pull of sleep

[buuniebaby]

you and hamzah going round FOR round

NOTHING WITHOUT YOU. 🎀

includes: cute fluff at the start -> turns to v much rough sex. spanking, choking, slight degrading he gets a lil mean.. mentions of semi public sex

wc: 3.4k

back from vacation! hope u all enjoy 💖

there’s an overwhelming aura floating around the crowded house, and it’s draining the life out of you and your boyfriend.

neither of you are really the most social people in general, which is why it probably wasn’t the greatest idea to attend a family get-together with your side - the biggest yappers you know. you think you’re starting to see faces blur together as you continue to awkwardly smile, not paying attention to the conversation you’ve been dragged into.

you feel a wide hand slide just beneath your midriff, and you don’t need to look to know who it belongs too. you’ve already fixated enough on hamzah’s presence: the way he touches you, his smell, his breathing. his proximity makes you calm down a bit, exhaustion beginning to melt off your shoulders.

you shift your attention from the conversation back to your boyfriend, looking up at him from over your shoulder while his arms are wrapped around your waist. he gives you a look of reassurance, and you can tell already that he’s thinking the same thing you are.

“i think we might head out now.” he murmurs, voice soothing and soft. you smile up at him - a way to thank him for saving you from awkward social interactions - a much more genuine smile than the forced one you’ve had this whole time.

after saying your goodbyes, he walks you out with a protective arm around you. he stays like that until you two reach the car, and the subtle touch makes your heart jump to your throat.

he drives, hand softly pressed against your thigh, and you pull small talk out of him. you’ve found that throughout your whole relationship, that he just doesn’t happen to be a big talker. not that he doesn’t want to; he has things to say, he just doesn’t know how to unless you give him the opportunity. It’s the total opposite to how he is on camera, rambling and joking around with martin. he’s told you that he still gets nervous around you sometimes, even after months of dating, meeting your parents and literally moving in together - it’s endearing to you.

it’s a relatively far drive from where the two of you reside. not far enough that you’d ever have to spend the night away or anything, but far enough that you have to pee and he has to get gas. you’re running to the bathroom around the side of the building, and it really looks like you could get a disease or something back here, but your urge to piss is worse than whatever you could possibly be contracting.

you’re reminded how good he treats you when you find your way back to the car, only to see that hamzah’s grabbed you your favorite candy and a dr. pepper.

“thank you, baby.” you smile, genuinely greatful for the way he takes care of you. “so sweet to me.”

“only for you.” is all he replies back, voice deep and soft. you like moments like this, when you do things for each other without thinking. it lets you know he really cares.

his hand stays on your thigh for the entirety of the drive back. you’re arriving back at your place before you know it, fishing the house keys out of your pocket, freezing when you feel his hands run over your shoulder blades, traveling down to your waist. you’ve noticed how touchy he’s been with you all day. he’s been busy the past week, working on podcast stuff and getting the new studio situated - you guys haven’t had sex in almost two weeks. poor boy is probably pent up.

you’re wandering into your shared bed the moment the door is opened, falling into it face-first. hamzah follows you, snuggling in next to you. you feel his palm caress your back softly, feeling up your body.

“been missing you.” hamzah mutters. it’s enough to get you to lift your head off of the bed, unable to tell if he means it in an “i want to fuck you” way or an “i wanna cuddle and watch a movie with you” kind of way.

“hmm?” you say, tilting your head, shuffling to his side of the bed. hamzah eyes you up and down for a second, pursing his lips.

“c’mere.” he mumbles, patting his lap twice. you follow his commands, sitting between his thighs, hands balancing you out on his biceps. “atta girl.” he murmurs under his breath as his hands trace down your body, feeling up your ass specifically.

he’s kissing you before you know it, nothing slow and sweet like he normally is. it’s needy, desperate even, and it makes you feel weak. he’s pulling you as close as he can as your lips press up against each others, pinning you into place.

“missed you really fucking bad.” he says, same comment as last time, but more desperation in it. if it isn’t obvious already, you’ve come to the conclusion that he means it in an “i want to fuck you” way.

a hand creeps down under the softness of your hoodie (actually, his hoodie, which is one of many that you’ve stolen), pushing it up over your head and leaving you in just a lacy bra and nike pro shorts - the ones you know he likes because of the way it shows off your body.

he kisses you again, hard and deep, licking into your mouth like he’s never tasted anything better. he’s pulling away not soon after, one hand on your waist, the other trying to pull your bra off. he’s a little too far gone, struggling to yank it off as fast as he can, so you help him by unclipping it.

he stares as it comes off, groaning at the sight. he loves your tits, you’ve noticed, always taking time to play with them or suck on them like he’s a baby during foreplay. he’s already kneading a hand into one of them, sucking on the other hard enough to bruise. there’s teeth and tongue and it’s messy and wet - exactly how he likes it. you grind your hips against him a little, realizing how hard he’s gotten from just this, and giggle. it gives you an ego boost, how obsessed he is with your body.

“you don’t understand how bad- fuck.” he pauses when your hips meet his again. “how badly i wanted to fuck you.”

“yeah?” you smirk, voice smooth, yet still sounding almost as gone as he is.

“yeah.” he says, gripping onto your waist, slamming your clothed hips down onto his with a groan. “when i was looking at that studio with martin- he had to leave early, and i kept thinking about you.” he rambles, stuttering a bit as you grind into him. “fucking- got so hard- came all over my hand in the bathroom.” he groans. your eyes widen, blushing a little when what he just said hit you. he jerked off.. in public.. to you.

that’s.. really fucking hot.

you’re so turned on and it must show in your face, because hamzah is picking you up already. your instinct is to straddle him, wrapping your legs around him koala-style, but before you can move he throws you down onto the bed. big hands grip your thighs as he spreads your legs apart, pulling down your shorts and panties all in one swoop. he throws the shorts away, but keeps the panties. there’s a pause for a second, and you look up at him, confused.

“wanna make sure you stay quiet.” he mutters, breathy. he gets on top of you, arms pinning you down from each side, and then shoves your thong into your mouth.

fuck.

you can taste yourself on it, dripping with wetness from how badly you want him. he only smirks at you from above, then moves down, face to face with your pussy.

“stay quiet for me, okay?” is all he says before he’s diving in, mouth on your clit. you can’t help but moan at the sinful feeling through his makeshift gag. plus, you know that there might be a consequence to being noisy - which is exactly what you want right now.

his tongue is wide as he laps at your pussy, two fingers entering you before you know it. another loud moan gets him to stop for a second, biting down on your thigh. it’s like a warning, letting you know you’re on thin ice.

he wraps his strong arms around your thighs before he’s lapping up at you again, sucking at your clit while he curls his fingers up into you.

he slaps your thigh this time when you moan, and it only makes you louder - his last straw.

you whimper when he stops and stands up, watching as he pulls down his shorts and takes his cock out of his boxers. he positions his thighs so that they’re surrounding your shoulders, and he rips your panties out of your mouth. he strokes his cock with them for a second, speaking as he does it.

“if you don’t shut the fuck up-“ he pauses, groaning, “I’ll do it for you.”

your eyes widen. he’s getting mean, and you like it.

“mm?” is all you can say, pushing him to get meaner. he throws the panties to the side, then rubs his cock against your lips, now closed. his precum makes them glossy and shiny.

“so now you shut your mouth?” he says, cocky. it’s what he does next that really shocks you - a large hand comes down on your face, slapping you against the cheek.

“fucking open up.” is what he commands, and god you listen. his cock immediately goes all the way down your throat, a hand gripping at your hair.

“made me wait, so fuckin’ long- and this is how you treat me when i finally get to fuck you?” he growls, cock hitting the back of your throat again and again. you’re overwhelmed by the sensation of him using your mouth like it’s your pussy, barely giving you time to pull off and breathe, but god is it hot. his balls slap against your chin with each thrust, nose touching his thick pubic hair.

“fuckin’ choke on it- good girl.” he says, a finger playing with a loc of your hair. you love the way he praises you even when he’s being rough. at the end of the day, you’re still his princess.

his eyes flutter shut, hips stuttering and head rolling back when he cums, filling your mouth and making you choke. he pauses for a minute, cock sensitive, moaning at the feeling of you swallowing. there’s a long string of a spit and cum mixture that trails out of your mouth when he pulls out, coating your chin. he uses his dick to smear it around a little, making a mess. you smile, dizzy.

he stares at you in a haze, placing a soft kiss on your lips - he’s as sweet as he is rough.

“still wanna fuck you,” he whispers in your ear, voice deep and raspy. “until i’m fucking cumming dry.” god, the way he talks to you is so fucking hot.

he’s manhandling you again, flipping you over onto your stomach. you think he gets an ego boost from the way he can just grab you and throw you around. you’re not complaining either, to be fair; it’s hot.

you stick your ass up in the air, arching your back, knowing the sight is gonna turn him on. your thoughts are confirmed when you hear him groan, spreading the cheeks out to see your pretty pussy leak for him. he grabs his cock, sliding the tip against your folds, being careful not to slip in with how wet you are. you look back at him from behind, biting your lip and making eye contact.

“you look like a braindead fucking slut right now.” he says, out of nowhere. it’s dirty, a gross way to talk about you, but god does it make you wetter. he leans down, planting kisses on your neck, before wrapping his hands around your throat.

he’s sliding his cock in while he chokes you, and if your throat wasn’t already cooked from all the face-fucking earlier, it definitely is now. the stretch feels good for both of you; you know by the way he’s already setting a fast pace.

you can barely speak from the way he’s taking your breath away, from both the choking and the way he’s pounding into you, but you manage to choke out a strangled “hit me.”

you’re craving the roughness, and it makes him fucking feral. before you know it a hand is coming down on your ass, smacking you while his hips do the same. he continues until your ass is bright red, taking pride in the way he knows it’s gonna be bruised.

he moves his hand from your ass to your hair, gripping at the ends of it. your head is pulled back, accentuating the arch of your back, and it only makes his pace faster.

your hips are grinding against his, feeling your insides squeeze around him. your clit meets his hips each time he thrusts into you, and god, does it feel good. your vision spots as you feel your pussy flutter around him, and before you know it you’re cumming around his cock.

he pulls out moments after your orgasm, but you know he isn’t done with you yet. he flips you around and kisses you, picking you up by the ass and lifting you into his arms. your legs wrap around him instinctively, kissing him even deeper.

his hands move from your ass to the backs of your thighs, and you’re in awe of how he’s even capable of holding you up like this. you jolt as you feel him slam your back against the wall, and all of a sudden he’s holding you up against it with just a single hand. god, he’s so fucking strong.

he used the other hand to stroke himself (barely) before he pushes his cock back into you, both hands moving to your body. he thrusts into you, pinned up against his wall. his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, adding more than a few hickies. he likes to claim you like that, show everybody that you’re his. as much as it is scandalous, he fucking loves it when you show up on the podcast or in a video with hickies; he wants everyone to know that you’re his baby.

“h-hamzah,” you whine, overstimulated by the way he fucks your sensitive pussy even after your orgasm.

“yeah baby?” he asks, voice breathy as he thrusts into you, keeping his rapid pace.

“want you to cum inside me- fuck- so ffucking bad. don’t care if you get me pregnant.” you cry out, feeling his dick twitch inside you at his words.

and fuck, that does something to hamzah’s brain. hypothetically, he knows that probably isn’t a good idea, but god does the thought of it make him feel fucking feral. he decides between it for a few seconds in his head, before going with the option of “fuck it, we can get plan b after.”

you feel the drags of his cock inside you slow down, the “plap” sound of his thrusts getting deeper and louder, and suddenly your insides are warm and wet, being filled up by hamzah’s hot cum.

he takes a second to breathe, hands shaking a bit, but doesn’t pull out. you wrap your hands around his neck, keeping yourself upright. he’s already moving, cock still inside you - you give him a confused look as he opens the door and brings you out to the kitchen.

he grabs onto your thighs, picking you up and pulling you off his cock. he sits you right down on the kitchen counter, and suddenly you know exactly what he’s trying to do.

he crouches down onto the floor, getting on his knees. he’s face-to-face with the counter now, and about to be face-to-face with your cunt as he grabs your hips and pulls them to his mouth.

you expect him to dive in again, tear you apart, but he takes a different route. he spreads your lips apart with his fingers, gently thumbing your clit. you watch him, staring at your pussy, still sort of confused, until his cum begins to drip out of you.

he latches on to your pussy, licking at every drop of cum leaking out of you. not only does it feel good, but they way he’s lapping at his cum mixed with your juices is really, really fucking hot. you reach a hand down to your own pussy, rubbing yourself while he eats you out.

he continues until he’s nearly licked you dry and you’ve both settled after the intensity of the last few rounds. he kisses you, softly. it’s different from the rough tone of before, more like a “thank you” kiss.

he rests his head on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses over the deep red hickies he had left before. a soft hand massages your back, and you hear him whisper.

“think you can do one more?”

a blush creeps onto your cheeks at the question. you’ve never gone this long before, but the idea of fucking while still extra sensitive from the overstimulation is a lot more tempting than it should be. you smirk, deciding that you’re up for it.

“as long as you cum inside again.” is all you have to say before he’s lifting you up again, throwing you down onto the couch. he crawls on top of you, placing calloused hands on your small hips.

“all I have to do is touch you, and you’re already sounding so fucking pretty for me.” he mumbles when he hears the soft noises that come out of your mouth. he latches onto your collarbone, leaving more marks before he shoves his face into your titties. he’s such a fucking fiend, it makes you giggle a little.

you buck your hips up, too horny to be embarrassed by the moan you let out from him simply sucking on your nipple. a hand suddenly comes down on your pelvis, hard. you try to roll your hips, but his strong grip keeps you in place.

“gonna fucking break you.” he says, and god you need him more now than you ever have before. you watch him grip his cock in his hand, hard as a rock. your hips roll up for him, and he can’t help but force his cock into you with one big, long thrust.

“fuck- hamzah-“ you say, blood rushing to your head. he’s kept his hand on your lower half this whole time, pushing low on the place where his cock bulges against skin in your stomach, and god he’s so fucking big and it’s so sexy.

he’s pounding into you, fat cock twitching inside you and you can’t help but already feel a burning heat in your stomach, clenching hard around him.

“hamzah!” you nearly scream, the coil snapping in your stomach. you feel yourself drench his dick in your juices, pulsing around him - like a chain reaction, it only makes him cum even harder inside you, spilling his seed into your insides.

he rides out his orgasm, collapsing next to you. heavy breathing, he brushes a hand through his messy curls. he does that thing where he nuzzles his head in your neck again, and you lean into the touch, playing with his hair. you kiss him on the forehead, trying to convey all the love you felt in that moment to him.

he looks up at you, soft. it’s almost submissive; you can see the love in his eyes.

“you okay?” you ask, making sure he’s not dissociating too badly.

he nods. “can I- can- can you kiss me?” he mumbles, causing you to melt a little bit at the softness. you pull him in for a soft kiss, moving slowly. you savor the taste of him in the moment, taking it all in.

“love you.” he mutters as he pulls away. “sorry if i was like- too rough. I don’t wanna actually hurt you, I just like, stop thinking when i get a certain amount of horny, it’s like-“

you cut off his rambling with a kiss, smiling against his lips.

“you’re fine.” you giggle. “it was hot anyways.”

[igotanidea]

Smooth criminal: AK!Jason x reader

part 1 : Somebody's watching me

part 2: Run baby, run

Yeah... I know it's been a while. Sorry guys. But here we are :)

***

They say that history repeats itself. That’s its merely a one big circle in which people get lost endlessly, not learning from the past mistakes, instead doing them all over again.

Like an Uroboros, forevermore biting his tail.

And that was how Y/N felt at the moment, shaking over the cup of tea Dick so generously offered her alongside with his hoodie. And even more kindly – not asking any questions of why she showed up at his apartment (or rather under it) in the middle of the night looking crazy.

She was back at the beginning. Back over Jason’s grave, sobbing and shaking while the memories of the news of him being gone forever haunted her mind.

Felt like all her efforts to forget and move on have come to nothing.

“Y/N…”

“No. No please I don’t want to talk Dick-“

“I was just gonna say you can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t know what got you so freaked out, but the Y/N I know – knew­ – was not the one to get scared over a spider or a mouse. So it must have been serious. Stay.” He grabbed and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m serious.”

“No, no it’s too much to ask for—”

“Good thing you did not ask then.” Dick grinned “Cause I believe I offered It myself.”

“You really didn’t change a bit, Grayson. Same golden, sunshine boy.”

“And you’re still the same, not holding back girl. Woman. How long has it been exactly?”

“Two years.” She sighed

“Two years.” Dick sighed too, his eyes becoming a little blurry from the memories. “I missed you, you know. And not only me. So did Tim and Alfred and Damian and I’m sure even Bruce became a little more grumpy without your presence to challenge him.”

“He’s got enough criminals to keep him entertained I believe?”

“Oh, Y/N, criminals he can handle easily, they are no fun. But having a woman with a sharp mind? That’s something Bruce still needs a lot of training in.”

***

 It was shockingly easy to reconnect with Dick.

Or maybe not, given the fact he was always awfully friendly, keeping in touch even with his exes and even having considerably good relations with some villains.

Long story short, in a months’ time she was regularly back in his life and he was back in hers. And much to her surprise, this time it was not a constant reminder of the person she lost, neither filling the void, but rather a soft recollection that she was not the only one who felt the repercussions of Jason being gone.

If anything, after that time apart, it felt like Y/N and Dick’s relationship could finally move past the tragic events and bloom. Not in a romantic sense, because he had Barbara and was making plans in that area, but like a true, deep friendship, cemented with similar feelings.

And she even got the guts to meet with the rest of the batfamily, ditching those girls who left her alone at the party. Slowly, but steadily, she was getting back to her old, familiar self, dropping the act of a girl who wanted to be anything but the version she was when Jason was alive and with her.  She was not running from the past anymore, but rather embracing and accepting it. And that was the real healing.

Only that Jason was not gone.

Observing her carefully from the shadows, watching almost every step, be it himself or using his militia. With explicit orders given to not let her know they were there. He had bigger plans coming, and making the same mistake as before, by coming as close as to touch her, could never happen again. Even if somewhere deep inside, the very subdued part of him screamed for that. For the warmth he remembered and knew would come with tenderness and not pain.

She never gave him anything less but love and devotion.

If anything Jason was only cursing himself that he let her step into the Batman world again. That is was his reckless behavior that drove her back into the arms of people, who were nothing but bad news. Who would eventually end up hurting her too.

And he was going to protect his little, innocent princess from that.

So yes, he was watching.

Sending his goons when he knew she was walking back home from work late, to ensure no one would lay a finger on her.

Causing a commotion in the area that happened to be dangerous only so she would choose another way.

Sending her colleagues threat letters so they would drop the chase for the same promotion at work as her.

Beating up a guy who was trying to flirt with her when she was buying coffee-to-go at her favorite place.

Doing it all smoothly, like a professional he was.

Building up a way to execute his master plan that would keep her safe from any danger, real or hypothetical. Forever.

***

“She got home, boss. Safe and sound, not one hair out of place.” One of his militia officers reported to him

“Good.” Jason only grunted in response. One whole month and he was so close to the finale. The end was right in front of him and he had to hold himself back to not make a single rookie mistake that would derail his efforts.

“If I may, sir, why exactly are we wasting resources on some woman? She’s no one important, just a regular—”

“What did you say?”

If the sinister voice wasn’t enough to make the man stop his sentence, the iron grip on his throat did.

“I- I-“

“No one important? Huh? Was that what you said?” Jason mocked tightening fingers on the man's jugular. “Answer me!”

“I- I-“ he was struggling for air.

“Pathetic!” Jason threw him on the ground, retrieving the gun from his holster, pointing it at the man’s head.

“Please, don’t—”

“I should put a bullet in your head for talking about her like that and second one for questioning my plans.” The gun outlet was now pressing into the man’s temple. “You are doing what I tell you, you hear me? No questions. No doubts. You are here to serve me, unless-“ Jason put a little bit of pressure on the trigger.

“No! No please!”

“You’re a piece of shit.” Arkham Knight muttered, taking the gun away. “But I am feeling merciful today. We can’t have blood on the floor when Y/N arrives. Now go! Get out of my face before I change my mind! And you make sure everything is perfect because if not—” he  caressed the arms with a cruel glint in his eyes, enjoying the way his officer rushed out of the room, throwing commands left and right, halfway out the door.

“Soon, baby… Soon we’ll be back together…” Jason muttered to himself once he was finally alone.

He was so close to having everything he needed.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45 @princessbl0ss0m @rosieandthethorns @beingaturtlespiritually @grierpilots @killerwendigo @teenytinytunes

[voxmortuus]

May I have a piece where Soldier Boy reminds you where you belong? 😔💚

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Soldier Boy x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Boys ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.2k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Dominant Solider Boy | Submissive Reader | BDSM Themes | Face Grabbing | Spitting | Boot Licking | Oral (Male Recipient) | P-i-V | Cream Pie | Implied Aftercare | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @castiel ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

You've been feeling lost, a little out of your element, you've been feeling like everything has been in disrepair in your life, and you're feeling like you're ready to snap. It was easier when you didn't think about being with someone else, someone else was always going to disappoint. You had these expectations, and you constantly questioned if they were worth having because you're always being let down. You felt like you were at a dead end, you felt like maybe being what you are, who you are, wasn't worth it anymore. Little did you know, Solider Boy wasn't having any of that.

It was one of those days where you questioned most things, you questioned why things were going the way they were going, you had no answer, other than feeling like this was your fault. Sitting there you set your book down beside you and lean forward and rub your face. Leaning back in the chair you look outside studying the environment around you. Making a small face you were jolted by the door closing heavily and the sound of boots walking across the kitchen floor of your apartment.

"Hey, you're home..." you point out looking up at him, a small almost painted smile spread on your lips.

"Of course, I'm home." he stated looking over your face as he leaned against the door jamb.

"Well, that's good."

"You didn't greet me like you usually do." he pointed out with a slightly furrowed brow.

"No. No I guess not." you state placing your hands in your lap.

"And why not?" he asked.

"Well why should I?" you ask with a furrowed brow.

"Because that's what you do, always, never changes. So why change it now?"

"Because I want to. I don't belong to you." okay, at this point, you knew you were pushing his buttons, but you were doing it for a reason.

"You want to repeat that again?" he asked you, more like he was giving you the opportunity to change your answer.

"Because. I. Don't. Belong. To. You." you state, looking directly at him.

"You don't do, you? Hmm, strange, that's not what you had stated a few months ago." he pointed out.

"How precious." you scoff a bit. "That was then, things changed." you bite with a soft quip.

It was then you knew you crossed that line, and you were begging for it. Licking his lower lip, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. He knew the game, but you crossed a line, and like hell, he was going to let you get away with any of it. Walking to you a little closer, he looks down at you.

"Kneel." he demands.

With a small smirk on your lips, you slowly do as you're told. Your gaze holds his slowly as you sink to your knees. Watching him intently, he points to his boots.

"Clean them, and don't miss a spot." he states.

You weren't reluctant, in fact, you felt your flesh growing hot at the idea of it all. Biting your lip, you slowly lower yourself, your arms move to the floor as you hover above his black military boots and gaze up a moment before you proceed to clean his boots. Your tongue is flat against the leather as you lick the material. Slight dirt, but nothing you can't handle.

Once you clean one boot, you move to the other. You feel yourself excited by this, feeling this tingle between your legs. You finish looking up at him, waiting for his approval. When he looks them over, you watch as he moves his hands to unzip his pants. You tilt your head, and he looks at you as if you know what to do, and boy do you.

With nothing but a moment, your hands move to release him from his jeans and boxers. Looking over the length, you can't help but mentally giggle. Fuckin hell. This man's cock was a goddamn masterpiece. You slowly began to work him, feeling the glorious flesh harden in your grasp as you slowly started to lick the length. His smooth hardening flesh against your tongue was warm against your wet muscle. You hear him groan softly as you take the tip between your lips, slurping down his length like the good little cock worshiping slut you are.

With every bob, every slurp, and bit of drool that escaped your loose lips as you pressed him to the back of your throat caused him to groan and caused your swollen lower lips to quiver with anticipation of being a good enough girl to feel that cock in other places. It was that moment when you realized this is where you will always belong, and there was no question about that. You didn't have to, nor did you want to question it.

He didn't want to release, not in your mouth, no, he wanted to fill that tight little hole between your legs. Standing you up, after pulling his cock from your cock holster, you whimper slightly. Feeling as he slips the old t-shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor. Lifting you, he places you on the counter, and without a second thought, he presses the head of his cock against your tight slit and slips right on in as if it was made for this. Made for him.

With a soft whimper, you clench your muscles around his hard, slippery cock. At first, his thrusts were steady and paced, but that was short-lived. They became quick and rough, and that's when you realized even more that this wasn't for you. You were his free-to-use fuck doll, and you were living for it.

With each rough thrust came a whimper from your lips, a grunt from his. Your hands and nails pressed against his arms, you sat there, on the counter, letting him use you. Dripping between your legs. His thrusts didn't let up, and reaching up he grabbed your face. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Looking into his eyes, you watch as he leans forward and spits in your mouth. Laying his claim in more than one way.

You swallow and moan as he presses his lips against yours, feeling your release so close, you knew to hold off. Whimpers and moans picked up in rhythmic manners as he picked up his pace. Thrusting harder against your walls, he grips your thighs tighter, spreading them a little further as he drives his cock deeper into you, flesh slapping against each other as he tells you to release.

Without a second thought, your head drops back, and you begin to quake. A loud, merely screaming moan escapes your lips as you both begin to ride out your finish. You feel this sudden eruption between your legs, hot ribbons of liquid spewing in between your lower lips, as you hear him growl and shove himself deeper inside you, filling you, mixing your fluids with his as it seeps out around his cock.

Feeling his mess dripping from you as he slowly pulls he looks over your face and smirks.

"Now, tell me..." you cut him off.

"I belong to you, and I will absolutely do better." You beam a panting smile.

"That's my Buttercup. Now, let's go get you taken care of. Shower, snack, and video games yeah?" He asks with a smirk.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 4: Shadows in the Moonlight - A Fateful Meeting at the Ball

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

„I won’t wear this. End of the discussion.”

“Are you out of your mind, sister? Prince Satoru sent this dress himself and ordered you to wear it!”

“I couldn’t care less about what Prince Satoru tells me to do.”

“Lady (y/n), please come to your senses. This is a beautiful gown and apart from that, it matches your skin tone and eyes perfectly. I am certain he didn’t choose this dress himself. Do the maid who was responsible for it a favour and wear it to the ball.”

Just to hear her voice sends shivers down your spine and calms down your pounding heart. Well, what did you expect when you found yourself reincarnated into a fantasy world with Jujutsu Kaisen characters playing the royal main roles? Definitely not Shoko Ieiri being your first maid, that is for sure.

“Fine”, you grumble.

“But I’ll only do it because of Shoko. Now get out of here, brother.”

Naoya sends a row of sickening glares your way before storming off and finally leaving you some room to breathe. This slowly but surely begins to feel like a never-ending nightmare. All you did was asking Gojo for an invitation to the ball along with a bouquet of flowers. But this?

You take out the jaw-dropping gorgeous gown that is covered in glitter, allow your hands to feel the softness of the fabric. There is no doubt in the fact that this was way more expensive than anything you have ever worn, so finely crafted that you didn’t even want to touch it when you first opened the box. But Shoko is right.

“How likely is it that the maid responsibly for choosing this dress will lose her head if I don’t wear it to the ball, Shoko?”

She eyes you and the dress up and down in silence while pouting her lips. To be honest, when you first saw her in that black and white maids dress, you almost fell out of the window. How is it even possible that she’s considered your maid in this world? Luckily for you, she at least kept her sense of humor.

“Very likely. To be exact, she might lose her head the same evening if Prince Satoru lives up to his reputation.”

“What a great way to describe my future fiancé. Would you help me put it on, then?”, you mutter.

Oh, how much you hate the thought of doing this man a favour, of putting something onto your body he has seen before. He doesn’t deserve to even look your way for how he talked to you, for how he treated you. Your impression from him in the manga definitely wasn’t wrong:

This man is nothing but a womanizer and collector of hearts.

“Didn’t you like him at least a little bit, Lady (y/n)? From what I have heard so far, it is said that he is a true gentleman and treats women with all due respect. Just not everyone else”, Shoko comments while tying the laces of your bodice.

You can’t help but huff in sheer anger and frustration. Gojo Satoru? A true gentleman? Is she really talking about the man who endangered you, who didn’t agree on marrying you? Just after you put him down in front of your whole family and threatened him with revealing his biggest secret…

Well, nobody’s perfect. But especially he isn’t.

“Let me tell you something, Shoko. This man is nothing but a philanderer, a pompous prince who thinks he owns the world.”

“But this pompous prince will be called your fiancé after tonight”, she reminds you violently.

You huff to yourself while balling your hands into tight fists and looking at yourself in the mirror. That new sensation of lavender eyes, the stinging fact that you are responsible for marrying that man you never really liked that much. But what other choice do you have? Even though you just came into this world, you aren’t dumb. Just one look into Naobito’s and Naoya’s cold eyes is enough to know they aren’t joking around. If Gojo doesn’t propose to you tonight, you will lose your life all over again. Running away? What a ridiculous thought. They’d find you where ever you go, hunt you down like the prey you are. Jujutsu Kaisen taught you that life isn’t that simple, that you cannot get away like that.

That new-gained life, the only one you might have left…

You straighten your shoulders and put a smile onto your lips so forced that your cheeks start aching. If calling yourself Prince Satoru’s fiancée is the price you have to pay for a second life, you will take it. But you’ll definitely won’t play his perfect little fiancée until the end of time. No, despite all the horrible things that could happen, despite the fact that you can consider yourself lucky for an opportunity like that, you still want to live the life you always imagined.

You will find a way out. But tonight, you have to play along.

-at the ball-

“If you don’t behave yourself-“

“Can you shut your mouth just once? It’s not like I’m a kid and didn’t listen to your nonsense the whole ride to the palace”, you interrupt your brother with a yawn.

“I think you don’t get it, sister.”

Naoya grabs your wrist so tightly that your bones feel like bursting any given minute, his cold glare piercing through you like a knife.

“If you mess this up, you will lose your head. And even though I’d love to witness that, we can use you as the wife of the prince better.”

His eyes tell you that he definitely isn’t lying, that every cruel word coming from his mouth is nothing but the truth. You swallow hard, yanking away your arm in order to escape his grasp. Fuck, this is absolutely serious. If you mess this up, if that jerk changes his opinion-

“Lady (y/n), what a pleasant surprise to see you made it on time.”

Oh. You turn around in a mix of relief and panic. It’s him.

“Sir Suguru”, you breathe out.

As fast as you’re able to walk in that pompous dress and those heels, you storm away from your brother in order to greet your new-found saviour.

“Where do you think you’re going, sister?”, Naoya hisses through gritted teeth.

“He’s a good friend of Prince Satoru, don’t you think it’s my responsibility to greet him? Now get away from me”, you bark back at him.

“What a pain in the ass”, you mumble to yourself, cheeks burning in nothing but sheer anger.

Now that you think of it, getting out of that toxic household is definitely more important than keeping your distance to Gojo. You need this evening to be perfect. Everything needs to go according to plan.

“I see you arrived with your brother”, Geto comments with an oh so charismatic smile.

“Oh, you noticed. I tried to leave him in the basement where he belongs, but he keeps finding his way back”, you blurt out before thinking twice.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror.

Just a few seconds ago, you reminded yourself to act normally, to do everything in order to make this plan work. And now…you’re insulting your family in front of Gojo’s best friend.

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have said that-“

“It’s not a secret to anyone that Sir Naoya is a truly special contemporary. What surprises me though is how a Lady like you was able to develop in such an environment.”

“Please don’t tell Prince Satoru.”

The begging tone in your voice catches Geto off guard. You, who wasn’t even afraid of a Prince while rejecting him. What is it that you fear so badly?

“I’m a man of words. Of course, this will stay with us if you wish so, Lady (y/n). Now, let’s go inside, shall we? I know for certain Prince Satoru is already awaiting you.”

“Don’t make me blush, Prince Satoru-“

“Prince Satoru, there is something important I haven’t told you yet! What do you think about talking in private for a minute?”

“Now now, Ladies. I am not allowed to leave the ball I am hosting only to have a little talk. And apart from that, a noble man like me can’t meet a gorgeous Lady without a chaperone by her side. Your reputation might get ruined and I cannot stand the sheer thought of that”, Satoru replies with his voice so sweet that you feel like throwing up.

Is this guy for real? You ball your hands into tight fists, eyes too focused on the way he stares that bunch of needy women up and down with his eyes so sparkly that they might take their clothes of any given time. Didn’t this guy tell you yesterday that he wants to marry you?

“May I say that you look absolutely lovely tonight, dearest Lady Mei?”

“You always know just what to say to make a lady blush. But I must say, you’re looking quite dashing yourself. Perhaps we should make it a habit to complement each other more often, Prince Satoru”, she purrs back at him.

Mei Mei, the so called “Lady” who shared her bed with her little brother and cares about nothing but herself as your competition? Suguru side-eyes you up and down while trying to position himself in front of the cheesy scene, but you have enough.

Nope, you can’t do this. There’s no way in hell you’ll talk or let alone dance with that womanizer. Is this the only choice you have in your life? Getting killed by your so-called family or spending the rest of your days standing next to a man who has his mind and probably his body on a new girl every week?

“Disgusting”, you hiss through gritted teeth, not even caring about the look Suguru gives you while speeding off.

What are you supposed to do? Running away and trying to hide your traces? Risking it all and rejecting Prince Gojo once again? All of those thoughts are nothing but bullshit.

Your family will find and kill you if you decide to run away. And Prince Gojo? Who know what that guy is capable of.

“Don’t mind my comment, but you don’t have to feel nervous. I am more than certain that Prince Satoru fell head over heels for you”, Suguru whispers into your ear, following you around with ease.

“Are you forced to tell that every woman he wants to have as his trophy?”, you bite back.

You definitely don’t have any nerve to think about Prince Satoru or the stinging fact that you’ve landed in that strange universe for another minute.

“Drinking. Drinking sounds good right now”, you mumble while storming towards a buffet filled with beverages and biscuits.

Cup after cup you cough down the sweet liqueur that leaves your head dizzy and mind forgetting all the shit you’ve been through for a brief second. You were alive, you died, you woke up again in this strange world and now you’re supposed to die again?  Dying or getting married to a womanizer, a man who’ll never give you the love you deserve.

“Lady (y/n), are you feeling unwell-“

“I need to get out of here. Please leave me alone for a second”, you mumble without even looking at Suguru.

You need a few minutes or rather hours for yourself. Without anyone around, without all the pressure crushing your shoulders. Your feet stumble around without a real aim, shoulders bumping into strangers over and over until your eyes finally spot an empty hallway opposite of you.

Fuck Prince Satoru and that whole new world you now live in. Right now, you need some time to get a hold on your life and all the stuff that happened those last 48 hours.

You dart forwards, almost sprint when the crowd gets sparser. You need to get away from that place, away from the stinging presence of your brother, your father and Gojo.

“I can’t marry him. But I can’t stay here either. I need to…AH!”

Sparks fly, you feel your head bump into something rock hard, your body falling straight to the cold ground. Out of instinct, you squint your eyes together and brace yourself for bumping straight onto the floor butt-first. Were you really dumb enough to run against a wall or a statue, maybe?

But you never land. Instead, you feel a pair of firm arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, slowly allowing your lids to flutter open.

Your heart stops.

Can it really be? No, that’s impossible. There’s no way in hell a guy like him would attend a ball like that-

“I think your lost, the ball is right behind you, young Lady”, he speaks out with low voice.

“Toji Fushiguro”, you mumble when your glossy eyes fixate on the scar that decorates the right side of his mouth way too familiar.

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@arehzhera @ttysmfwna 

[seramilla]

Okay so I’m on a SeraMilla binge rn. And it is mixing with my hyper fixation of Vaggie. So I know you do a lot with them but could you imagine. Sera being sort of mother figure to Vaggie while in heaven. In a way that Sera is a mother figure to all of the exorcists being aside from Adam she is the only one who knows about them.

So Vaggie grows up with an absent mother in Heaven that checks in with her every few years. And then goes to hell to then forge a mother daughter bond with Carmilla. Though this is still in the beginning stages.

So one day Vaggie comes over with another training session and sees her absent mother and new mother being a little to friendly with each other and just has to sit there with this information.

Idk how the interaction would end so I’ll leave that to your creativity.

A Seramilla binge with a Vaggie binge is a combination of the best binges to be in, hehehehe. Let me see if I can help...

Growing up among the Exorcists had been a lonely existence for Vaggie. Even with all of her other "sisters" around her, and the forced sense of camaraderie Adam imposed upon them every day, Vaggie never really felt that she...fit in with the other soldiers. She was great at what she did; fantastic, even. She had some of the highest kill counts among anyone in her squad.

But everything about it was so cold. Unrelenting. Unfulfilling. It was seeing the same faces day in and day out, having her body pushed around and shoved face-first into the dirt during their training drills, and eating the same boring, unchanging meals on the same schedule every week. She hated Taco Tuesday. Before she even met Charlie, she almost wished she'd never have to see another fucking taco for the rest of her immortal life. That slop in the cafeteria could barely be called food, let alone meat!

The only respite Vaggie got from the monotony was when the Seraphim came to visit. Every year or so, High Seraphim Sera and her sister Emily would stop by to make sure the Exorcists were being cared for. Vaggie liked Emily. The other girl was easy to talk to, and Vaggie warmed up to her much quicker than her sisters ever did.

Emily's sister, Sera, while a little more aloof and standoffish than the younger Seraphim, was kind once she got to know her. None of the other Exorcists ever bothered to do so...so Sera would sit and talk with her, and ask her how she was feeling. Vaggie can't even remember if anyone had ever asked her that before. Certainly not Lute. Certainly not Adam.

Maybe it's because Vaggie has always been a little smaller than most Exorcists. Nothing can help that. It's how she was made. But when Sera showed an interest in her, and returned every year to catch up with her, gauge how the Exterminations were going, and ask if she was getting enough to eat, it was almost like a reunion with an absent parent. Just asking the barest of questions, but enough to make Vaggie feel that at least someone cared about her. Even if only marginally.

After Vaggie fell, Charlie had kind of taken up that roll in her life. Not to say that Charlie behaves like a mom; she is very maternal in the way she fusses over people, but she does that with everyone, not just Vaggie. It took Vaggie a while to get used to her girlfriend's...intense feelings for basically everyone she ever meets. But that's just Charlie. She cares so much. And that's what Vaggie loves most about her.

And then Vaggie had met Carmilla. Now that had been an interesting turn of events. Carmilla Carmine reminded her of a taller, older version of every other Exorcist she'd ever met in her squad. She's got the same ramrod posture, the same eyes that could kill a person with just a glare, and that same stubborn will to protect those she cares about, like Vaggie possesses. She's also taken a particular interest in Vaggie lately. Like something shifted in the overlord's perception of her after that first "training" session. That first one had led to more, and more training led to Carmilla opening up a bit.

There had been something very...familiar about Carmilla in the beginning. Vaggie had chalked it up to her battling her sister Exorcists down here for so long, that she's just become Hell's resident angel expert. But boooooy, had Vaggie known the actual source of Carmilla Carmine's angelic knowledge, she might have been more prepared for the absolute spectacle that was about to play out right in front of her.

It's just a day like any other. Carmilla has gotten used to Vaggie just popping in when things are slow at the hotel, so Vaggie hadn't seen the need to call ahead. It's the end of the week, so Odette and Clara are likely out in the warehouses getting ready for weekend shipments. Those two work their asses off, and honestly, she kind of admires them for it. It reminds her of Charlie.

Carmilla can usually be found in her office on Friday afternoons, so that's exactly where Vaggie goes. The path to the office is now so familiar, she doesn't even need to ask directions anymore. She makes her way there on her own. When she faces the door, she knocks lightly to be polite. When Carmilla doesn't answer, she knocks again. Still no response.

Wondering if Carmilla is just having trouble hearing her, Vaggie lets herself in, because she's done it before. That's probably her first mistake. Familiarity breeds complacency, and that's a trap she vows to never fall into again. Not after what she sees in that office.

Carmilla is seated at her big executive desk in her big executive office chair, right where Vaggie had expected her to be. What Vaggie hadn't expected, however, is the tall (very tall) woman with hair like clouds and wings like fluffy down sucking face with the esteemed Carmilla Carmine. The woman is practically sitting in Carmilla's lap, and the two of them are necking like teenagers hiding under the bleachers after school. Vaggie is standing there, with the door open, gawking at the two women because she's simply too stunned to move.

That had been her second mistake, and the one that ultimately sealed Vaggie's fate.

Carmilla must sense she's being watched, because she looks up, and then immediately pulls away. Once her eyes meet with Vaggie's across the room, she launches the other woman out of her lap, who falls backward onto the desk in surprise, making a little "Oomph!" noise as she makes contact with the hard wooden surface. The woman's not hurt, but she definitely lets Carmilla know exactly how that felt.

"Carmilla!" the woman shouts. "What in the Hell did you do that for?!"

That voice. Vaggie knows that voice. Her brain works like a supercomputer trying to recall old memories, working out where she knows it from...

The barracks in Heaven. The training yard, during the semi-annual Exorcist inspection. Her conversations with Sera, when she'd felt like an actual person for once in her immortal life...

Vaggie's fears are confirmed when the woman stands, reaching her hands around to rub at her wings where they'd gotten squished beneath her when she fell, and then turns to face the door.

Golden eyes first meet the grayish blue of the other woman's, and then Carmilla's red eyes as Vaggie looks between the two of them, back and forth, over and over like her brain is still desperately trying to work out a complicated puzzle.

Except this puzzle isn't that complicated. It's 64 pieces at the absolute fucking most. Child's play.

It's Carmilla, and it's Sera, in Carmilla's office, kissing like love-struck teenagers at Carmilla's desk, as if this is just something that they do on a Friday. Like it's just normal.

"Carmilla?" Vaggie asks, speaking to the arms dealer with so many other questions implied in her voice. "Sera?"

The former Exorcist's vocabulary has been stunted to only a first-name basis. Vaggie pleads with them in name alone. The anguish with which she says their names...and all the confusion and frustration she feels at seeing her former, and current, mentor together, like this...without her knowing...

Both older women realize exactly what must be transpiring in Vaggie's mind at that moment. Carmilla stands, and starts moving toward the door, perhaps to try and explain herself, or justify whatever Vaggie saw before she gets the wrong idea...

"Vaggie," Carmilla pleads. "I can explain."

Vaggie doesn't know why she runs. It's the exact opposite thing that she should do, if she actually wants answers. Which she does. But it's almost like instinct. Nothing in front of her own eyes makes sense anymore. And when the sense is lacking, all Vaggie can do in the moment is escape.

She hears Carmilla, and then Sera, both calling after her. It isn't her choice to run, but her body forces her, like it has a will of its own, with so many of her other problems.

The last thing Vaggie hears as she practically leaps to the bottom of the staircase is Sera's voice shouting. "Vaggie, please stop!" are the last words her ears can catch, before she's out the front door and running down the street. Forgetting for a moment that she even has wings, she bolts back to the Hotel, and the safety of Charlie's arms, like the little pathetic coward that she is.

This was getting long. Let me know if you want more.

[agirlcandream84]

Submitting for angsty Frankie thoughts!

We usually see Frank being very self-deprecating, thinking he's a bad person or doesn't deserve anything good, but what if it was the other way around... Maybe she's early on in a relationship with Frank, but she deals with depression/anxiety, or trust issues, or she's just never had someone love her like that, and has a hard time believing or accepting that she's good enough/pretty enough for someone like Frank Castle... 🥺 She brushes off his compliments, or thinks that he wouldn't want to "put up with" her for long (Meanwhile she's doing nothing wrong). But as usual, he is ever observant and understanding, and gently persistent in proving her wrong 😩

(I know it seems like this is a common theme, many of us here feel that way or have felt something similar at one point or another. I just really love that through writing/reading fics like these, it has actually helped some people feel better or realize they deserve good things and happiness too.) 🖤

Eeeeeepp this gets me in the heart because soooooo many women can relate. Sweet Frankie would handle it so gently 😩

Frank Castle x Emotionally Insecure Reader

It was so silly, really. It was just your little tinkering hobby and it was just the local library. Yes, they agreed to display your "abandoned miniatures" in the glass case on the main floor but that was only because you sheepishly asked if they'd be interested, having seen other local art in the case. They were so kind to agree and that was validation enough-- you couldn't fathom telling anyone, let alone Frank, that they would be there. This would be your small personal moment of pride and not a burden for others-- everyone had busy lives.

Except Frank was already quite friendly with the librarians, being an avid reader himself. It was one of the few places Frank even got "chatty" in his life, with the local librarians who were all too delighted to have big scary Frank share his thoughts on some of the great classics. He'd grown a bit of camaraderie with them and decided he was going to make a plea to get the new book by your favorite author into the library's circulation.

He stepped up to the desk in the middle of the day on Thursday looking for an update on the book, hoping to surprise you with it for the weekend and they'd proudly handed it over, adding "Oh and tell your girlfriend we're so excited for her display! I love miniatures. Remind her to bring a printed photograph of herself too." The librarian was met with a blank stare as Frank scratched the back of his head in confusion.

"Display?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, the display. Of her art? The case is all ready, just cleaned it out this morning" the librarian responded, pointing to the empty case. Frank played along, determined to extract the details he needed.

"Ah yeah, yeah. Right, the display. Remind me, when is she settin' that up again?" he asks.

"Saturday at 10am I think," the librarian responds.

"Yeah that's right. Saturday. Alright, thanks again," Frank adds before heading out with the book in hand.

Later that evening Frank was itching to give you the new book and attempt to understand why you hadn't told him about your art display.

"I said close 'em doll. Come on," he urged, making you sit on the couch and close your eyes.

"Frank I hope you didn't go out of your way for something. It's not my birthday or anything," you reply, sitting reluctantly on the couch. it's not that you hated surprises you just never felt all that worthy of a grand gesture.

"It ain't gotta be your birthday for me to treat you nice sweetheart," Frank replies, filing away for later that he needed to unpack where this desire to not be a burden came from in the first place.

Frank gingerly places the fresh, crisp book in your hands and murmurs, "alright open 'em honey."

Your eyes land on the book in your hands and you feel speechless for a moment. How had he remembered this was your favorite author? And how did he manage to get the first copy from the library? It was on waitlists across the city for weeks. You were tearful at the gesture.

"Frank.... how... how did you--" you start, looking up to meet his eyes, creased in the corners from the faint smile on his face.

"Eh, those librarians like me. Got 'em to give me a couple favors," he explains.

"But.... it's just, I mentioned this author maybe once, before we even started dating. How did you know?" you ask, incredulously.

Frank's face screws up a moment, making sense of a question he thought had an obvious answer. "Sweetheart, you've got about eight dog-eared copies of the other books in your apartment and I remembered the way you talked about them like they were magic or somethin' that night on the porch," he answers.

"Oh...I didn't think you'd remember" you answer sort of incredulously, shocked by his consideration. "Why'd you go through so much trouble Frank? I feel so bad if it was a bother," you add, the guilt of being accommodated already settling in.

There was that look again. Frank furrowed his brows, considering how much effort it would take to knock the teeth out of whoever made you think you weren't worth an effort.

"I did it because you're worth doin' it for sweetheart," Frank responds gently, almost like reminding you of a long-forgotten truth. "And I like seein' you happy and bein' the one to do it," he adds, reaching his hand to cup you jaw and stroke it with his thumb. He takes the moment to inspect your face, hoping his stare could bore right into your brain and fix whatever felt broken.

"Hey listen, let's find a good coffee shop this weekend-- we'll read for hours yeah?" he asks, tugging you back from wherever your thoughts were pulling you away.

"Yeah, I'd really love that Frankie. Maybe sometime after Saturday morning?" you ask, remembering your plans to construct the display case.

"Yeah honey," Frank replies, waiting to see if you intended to mention the case, "that'll work fine. You got something you're doing Saturday mornin'?"

"Yeah it's nothing. It's just this thing at --- eh, forget it. Just a thing I have to finish," you reply, halting at inviting Frank. He had already seen your miniatures, he didn't need to see them in the case too. He'd already done so much, you felt so silly asking for more from him.

He nods and you think you notice sadness dance on his face for a moment but it's gone as fast as it came. "Alright honey, Saturday afternoon it is."

-----

You were putting the finishes touches on the case, adjusting the accessories to a few pieces that got dislodged in travel. One of the librarians hovered nearby, nearly squealing at your work.

"Oh my god, it looks so cool. How'd you learn all this stuff??" she asks as her eyes wander over every piece.

Your cheeks burn beet red at the compliment. "Oh geez, thank you. It was a lot of trial and error. And a lot of YouTube," you add with a shrug.

"Well I love it," she says, turning back to the circulation desk. "Oh hey Frank," she adds with a wave.

You go stock still at her greeting. Had she said Frank? Your Frank? You gently place down the tweezers you held and turn slowly toward the desk, Frank's familiar silhouette only three yards away.

"Hi beautiful," he murmurs, that face-lighting grin on his face. He's holding the single largest bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen and he's stepping towards you with his eyes locked on yours.

"Frank- I'm so sorr--" you start but he's shaking his head no.

"Don't you dare apologize doll," he says with a smile, stepping in front of you and guiding your face to his with his free hand to kiss you.

"I should have told you. I just didn't think it was worth your time," you admit, "It's not like it's The Met," you joke with a timid laugh.

He only grins a moment before he's back to attempting to read your mind with his eyes alone. He pulls you a fraction closer, your front pushed against the sturdy wall of his chest, held in place by the arm anchored around your lower back. "You gotta let me in a little bit," he murmurs, bending to say it directly in your ear.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, Frank reading you like a book. You're conflicted at the overwhelming desire to let Frank love you the way you dreamed of being loved and the ever-present voice in your head that told you that you weren't worthy of that love.

You make the choice then and there to be vulnerable.

"But what if I let you in and you find there's nothing to love there," you answer him, a whisper in the quiet library, not even able to meet Frank's eye as you said it.

"Hey," Frank says, concern crossing his features, "hey look at me sweetheart" and you reluctantly comply, casting your eyes up while your head remains lowered. "It's not possible. Every ounce you're willin' to give me makes me love you more and more. I feel like I'm drunk on it half the time," he adds with a chuckle and you crack a smile.

"That's my girl," he adds, brushing a thumb along your jaw. "You don't have to believe it yet, but just lemme keep provin' it to ya, yeah?" he asks, requesting your permission to let him love you. You nod, scared as hell but safe in his arms.

[somebluemelodies]

SURPRISE MFS in honor of one whole year since the spiderbit wedding, here's a little something to celebrate the gay cubitos of all time <3 also known as: spiderbit renewing their vows and being so stupidly in love with each other this is a really fucking long one i'm sorry (not sorry)

They walk until they find a flower forest, and it's three in the morning when the words are said. Repeated.

Neither of them have been able to sleep well the last several weeks, with the tumultuous amount of back to back to back situations, feeling stripped of almost all the control they felt they had before.

(And heaven forbid they don't have their eyes on each other for more than a few hours. What if something happens again? What if the other gets ripped from them, right from arms reach, all over again?)

(What then?)

The amount of times they leave each other in a day can be counted on one hand, and at night they're pressed together as close as humanly possible, warm and paranoid all the same.

Everything has gone to hell, it feels like. Everything except them, at least. And it truly is a reminder that maybe Roier was right once upon a time, saying it was them against the world.

So it's all gone to hell, but they have each other. And because they have each other, and have had each other for so long now, they walk and walk until they find a flower forest.

(And because they can't sleep, but that's besides the point.)

(It's the closest they can get to a year ago.)

They walk through the flower forest until they find a clearing, standing themselves in the middle of it.

Cellbit is the one to break the quiet that had befallen them, gently taking Roier's hands into his. His voice is soft. "Guapito?"

"¿Sí?"

"Would you like to get married again?"

A smile etches its way onto the spider-hybrid's face immediately, and he's nodding after a couple seconds. "I thought you'd never ask, gatinho."

The investigator smiles, too, feeling lighter than he has in months. Wordlessly, he slides the puzzle piece ring off his husband's finger, slipping the spider ring off his own to press it carefully into Roier's palm.

It's just them, there, and neither of them remember much of the formalities and spiels of words that came with from Father Peta the first time around.

(They were too focused on each other.)

But they both remember at least one thing as clear as day. And, temporarily pocketing his ring, Cellbit takes Roier's hands again, and speaks the words that came to him as easy as breathing. That still do.

"Você foi a primeira pessoa que eu vi quando eu cheguei nessa ilha. No meio de todo aquele caos, você foi o primeiro que apareceu no vidro, e desde que eu vi esse seu sorriso--" he lets go of one of his hands, raising his own to cup the spider-hybrid's face, stroking his cheek adoringly-- "eu sabia que eu nunca mais ia esquecer dele.

Quando eu mais precisei de alguém, quando eu estava completamente sozinho, você apareceu." Somehow, it almost felt even more true than it did back then. Roier, who always somehow knew when to show up when he needed it, who always knew whether he needed to talk or needed a distraction. Roier, who not only loved him through his lowest and most gruesome moments, but was willing to stoop to the same exact level as him.

(Was it unhealthy? Maybe. But Cellbit gave up on maintaining healthy habits months ago. There's no time or patience for that, anymore.

And Roier understands that. Roier understands him.)

He watches his partner lean into his touch, dark eyes closing as he soaks in the words with a small smile. "Eu quero que você saiba que enquanto eu estiver aqui--" Cellbit moves his other hand, to carefully cradle Roier's face in both-- "você nunca vai estar sozinho.”

(He'd gotten a little rocky on that promise, but he came back. And he'll keep coming back, no matter what. Nothing will keep them apart anymore.)

(Roier knows that, too. Because Cellbit has left, but Cellbit always comes back. Time and time again. The one person who hasn't truly left him yet, and the one person it seems he could never truly get rid of even if he wanted to. A scarily beautiful thing.)

Eyes open, Roier lets a few moments pass before gently pulling his husband's hands off his face, holding them in both of his own against his chest. The look the cat-hybrid is giving him makes him want to melt into a puddle on the forest floor, and he hopes that the other is feeling even half as warm and fuzzy as he is.

(Cellbit most certainly is, resisting the urge to pull him closer and kiss him senseless.)

Roier sighs, squeezing Cellbit's hands. "Yo no tengo nada preparado para decirte, pero te lo diré desde el corazón. Eres una de las personas en las que más confio. Eres la persona en las que más confio."

(That had certainly become far more true with time. Cellbit understands him. And when he doesn't, he tries until he does.)

(With Cellbit, Roier doesn't need to worry about feeling seen or heard. He can just be.)

"Te amo." It's his turn to reach out, delicately pushing back some of his partner's hair before stroking along his cheekbone. He hears the telltale rumbly beginnings of a purr from the cat-hybrid, and feels the oh-so-familiar light coil of a tail around his leg. "Te amo con todo mi corazón.

Y, estaré siempre a tu lado, para cualquer cosa que necesites."

(He's proven that, time and time again. Between being willing to go war against the Federation with him and being so incredibly willing to murder worker after worker until their message is clear and everything else in between.)

Cellbit pulls the spider ring back out of his pocket, smiling amusedly when Roier immediately holds his left hand out. "Do you accept me as your life partner?"

"Sí, sí, acepto. I think it's obvious, no?"

The investigator laughs, and, with a gentle meticulousness that makes the spider-hybrid weak in the knees, he slides the ring back on, holding his hand in both of his and raising it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top. "May not even death do us part."

Roier is momentarily surprised, but his smile brightens in a heartbeat, feeling like he could burst. He grabs the white puzzle piece ring from his sweatshirt. "And do you accept me as your life partner?"

"Aceito. Sempre."

He grabs the white puzzle piece ring, sliding it back onto his husband's own left hand and mimicking the kiss. "Then may not even death do us part.

Is this the part where we kiss, now?" he asks after a beat, making Cellbit laugh even more. He starts to laugh himself at the contagious sound.

When they calm down several seconds later, Cellbit cups Roier's face once more, warmth reigniting in the latter's veins at the fond smile on his husband's face, the brightness in his eyes that goes far beyond their piercing color. "Well, it is now."

"Perfecto. I was getting impatient."

One hand immediately holds the back of Cellbit's head, the other resting against his cheek as he pulls the cat-hybrid closer, slamming their lips together.

Cellbit melts into it instantly, moving one arm to wrap around Roier's neck and draw him even closer still.

(It's a miracle they can even get closer to each other.)

They only pull apart when their lungs demand oxygen, foreheads falling forward to press together as they catch their breath. But even then, only a few seconds pass before they're reconnected in another kiss.

But this one is softer, far more gentle. Roier cards his hand through Cellbit's hair, and Cellbit holds him tighter even still.

Their noses brush when they pull away. "Obrigado, guapito," the investigator murmurs.

"Ya, mi amor," his husband chastises fondly. "No thanking me." Roier tilts Cellbit's head down, kissing his forehead. "Eu te amo, gatinho."

Cellbit smiles, turning his head to kiss Roier's palm and nuzzle into it. "Te amo, guapito."

He lets the spider-hybrid pull him into a tight embrace, no more space left between them. A loud purr reverberates from his chest, and he lets his tail coil back around his husband's leg, effectively keeping them in place for a while.

The Federation could take and take and take, but there's one thing they'll never be able to take, no matter how hard they try.

(You can't take soulmates.)

No one should find them out here, giving them all the time in the world. But should anyone try to mess with them, they'll learn the hard way.

(Never again.)