#he likes trying to challenge himself to make different things each time

[meownotgood]

the gifts machine herald viktor makes for you

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[berryfairyluvr]

Hi! I love your writing and would like to request Caleb and princess treatment please 💝

caleb and his princess treatment

pairings: bf!caleb/husband!caleb x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive, slight hinting of jealousy?, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: you’re very sweet, thank you for the request!! i hope it’s to your liking <3

As far back as you could remember, Caleb had always treated you with the utmost care, tending to your needs in any way he could.

During your secondary school years, Caleb decided he would make not only his own lunch, but yours too. You’d always been a picky eater and he couldn’t trust you to feed yourself if the cafeteria didn’t have enough foods that interested you. After finally moving in together as a couple— he picked up the old habit and began making your lunches for work too.

Growing up, you and Caleb often took the public transportation to and from school or town. On extra crowded days when you could only find one empty seat he’d always give it to you.

He had always been the looming overprotective presence in your life, like the time he told the entirety of the school basketball team that you were “off limits.”

And of course he picks you up from the Association in his sports car, leaning against the sleek vehicle with a cheesy grin and deep dimples, aviator shades perched on his nose. “Well hello girlfriend..” which later became his personal favorite, “Hello wife..” Followed by wrapping a lengthy arm around your waist the other around your shoulders, kissing your flushed face.

Insists on carrying you if your feet hurt, you’re sleepy, or it’s even remotely inconvenient for you to walk. Bonus: bridal style all the time.

He talks about you like you’re his entire world (because you are)—casually, without shame. “Yeah, my girlfriend made this.” “MC said that once, it stuck with me.” “She’s smarter than me, actually.”

You try to help him clean up or fix something? He gently turns you around, plants you on the nearest seat, and kisses your forehead. “Let me take care of it, baby.” “Nuh-uh Pips, just sit here and look pretty for me, yeah?”

One of his love languages has always been acts of service— taking note of every little detail of your daily routines so he can find a way to make them easier for you without question.

His clothes? Pfft no, they’re our clothes. Whatever he owns he considers yours as well, emphasis on the clothing. He even buys things for himself based on how he pictures you in them eventually..

As cringey as it sounds, this man will hand feed you like a baby. Whether you’re working overtime from home or gaming he’s making sure you’re getting your meals.

Studying or working together proved to be challenging when he couldn’t tear his eyes off your figure or halt his lingering touches of affection which proved to be quite the distraction.

You're not just loved—you’re revered. He never lets you forget how special you are to him. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Let me prove it every day."

For some blissfully, wonderful, unknown reason, this man is always on his knees before you, for you. Whether it’s to tie your shoelaces or to praise his most favorite, sacred part of your- (whaaaatt ?? who said that ??)

You send ONE moderately risqué photo his way and he’s blowing up your phone like the dozens of ships he explodes with the fleet.

You knew him to be protective and caring before but when you’re expecting his first child it’s a different story. He spends the whole first month of your first trimester researching beneficial recipes for expecting mothers and their babies. “I’ll set aside time to meal prep each meal for you daily, it’ll be great Pips.”

When your newborn arrives, Caleb insists on waking up with you for each and every night shift of feedings and diaper changes. The dark circles under your eyes tug at his heart strings as he urges you back to bed as soon as you’re done with the baby. “My little copilot wants to be around mommy all the time too, hm?” He rocks your newborn back to sleep with a yawn of his own.

Gaming at his desk while you're dozing in and out of sleep from the couch he can't help but check on you, even if it's mid match. “You good, baby? Need anything? Water? Snack? A nap on me instead of the couch?” He's just glad to have you near and willing to do anything to keep you close.

He's always carrying your things for you, literally everything. When the two of you would walk home from school your backpack was always slung over his shoulder, it didn't matter that he had his own backpack and his basketball bag. That quickly became the norm for everything, shopping bags, leftovers from the hotpot place, your luggage when visiting him in Skyhaven.. The list goes on, you weren't allowed to carry anything on his watch. It was no use protesting anymore, you'd just be met with a dimpled smirk and kiss to your cheek.

Don't even try to leave or go to sleep without giving him his last kiss of the day. "EXCUSE ME. Where do you think you're going without my goodbye kiss?" He'd steal a few extra and say it was just for safety precautions.

He loves complimenting you all day, everyday. He loves the reactions you give him, would do just about anything for them.

read zayne’s version here

read sylus' version here

requests open ❤︎

[kingkaizen]

𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻

∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3

∘ ft: nanami & gojo

∘ word count: 2.7k

∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk

Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.

No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.

But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.

When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”

“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.

“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”

Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 

“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.

“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”

Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?

“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.

“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.

“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.

That look never came.

“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.

“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”

The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 

“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.

“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.

“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.

“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”

You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.

“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.

“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 

“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.

“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.

“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 

No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”

Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 

“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 

“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”

“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”

“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.

“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.

You fucking loved it.

You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.

“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.

Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.

“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.

“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.

“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.

“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.

“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.

“Not unless you beg for it.”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[bruisedfig]

depression — dean winchester ݃⁺݄+

summary: it’s breaking dean’s heart to see you wilting away in his bed, suffering from a depressive episode.

warnings: depression (symptoms, behaviours, thoughts, etc.), non-sexual nudity, angsty fluff, angsty/sad dean, pure comfort, loverboy!dean, depressed!reader, set in the bunker/later seasons (bf!dean x gf!reader)

wc: 4.28k

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dean winchester had never been a stranger to letting dark feelings consume him; he knew what it was like to feel like you’re drowning from the inside with thoughts that made your soul crumble piece by piece.

he knows.

he gets it.

but with you? it was different.

you weren’t like him—you allowed yourself to wallow in your sadness, letting it suffocate you like a weighted blanket until one day it magically lifts and you’re back to being yourself. it was routine at this point, something you just accepted as part of your life.

dean, however, spent his days existing alongside his depression, running through life like a bulldozer, never allowing himself to rot in the sadness—because deep down he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back out—but instead using it as a means to keep himself going through the challenges he faced.

his heart ached as he watched you spend day after day in his bed, withering away amongst the sheets, letting your unspoken thoughts and feelings eat at you, draining the usual light in your eyes into dull lifeless voids.

each morning was the same routine.

“you want some breakfast, baby?” dean asks, sitting on the side of the bed with his hand carefully threading through your greasy unkempt hair.

you shake your head. again.

and dean sighs. it’s like clockwork.

“you sure? i can bring you something.”

“just wanna sleep,” you mutter, your quiet croaky voice barely louder than a whisper.

dean’s heart breaks in his chest. you look so sad. so broken. so absent.

he looks away, not wanting you to see his frown. “alright. i’ll– uhh… i’ll leave you be then,” he sighs and wipes a hand down his face. “i’ll be in the library with sam if you need me, okay?”

and with a creak of the mattress and another soft sigh, he’s out of the room, and you’re back in the quiet solitude of his bunker bedroom, blanketed by the dull smell and thick air that seems all-consuming.

back in it.

back in the midst of your own tired brain, spewing out things you’d never dare say aloud.

things you’d never share with dean.

but dean’s not an idiot. he knows depression like the back of his hand, and he’s seen your episodes before—though it doesn’t make it any less painful whenever you enter one.

you spend your days in and out of consciousness, swimming in the dire thoughts that plague your mind and leave you feeling empty.

and you perhaps look even worse than you feel. you should be embarrassed, you think, letting dean see you like this—the unwashed hair, the unbrushed teeth, the crinkled pyjamas you’ve been wearing for days that are starting to smell.

but you don’t care.

it’s hard to care.

you’re so wrapped up in your own brain, trying to fight the onslaught of grim thoughts, that you don’t even see the impact you’re having on dean.

he’s tried everything.

he was gentle at first—the soft-spoken words and tender touches that just made you feel worse.

guilty… maybe.

and when his soft love didn’t help, he moved onto bringing you things, like a meal or your toothbrush, but every time he tried, he was met with a grunt or hum of disinterest.

and it broke his fucking heart.

even sam could see the stress that your dynamic was having on dean. he watched his brother wallow in despair, going days without a smile and the usual bite of confidence that he walked around with. he was losing himself in worry, but yet, the pair of them were clueless when it came to helping you; they didn’t know what to do.

they’d grown up just coexisting in their shared anguish, not letting their afflictions get in the way of life. they couldn’t afford to let it get in the way, no matter how much they were struggling.

but you were different.

and to them it was different.

so as the days of you rotting in his bed went by, dean’s own light began to fade. he walked around the bunker dejected and heavy-hearted, just existing with a sad level of apathy. he didn’t care for the cases sam would bring up; he couldn’t find it in himself to worry about the potential victims or the entities that were no doubt wreaking havoc.

not when he was worrying about you.

you were lying in his bed, half asleep, as you heard dean’s footsteps patter down the hallway. you pulled the blanket further up under your chin, almost shielding yourself from him and whatever he was going to say to you.

the door opened with a creak, the light from the hallway illuminating the dark room. dean popped his head in, letting his eyes land on you. “sweetheart?” he asked quietly, letting his gentle voice float through the stagnant air that reeked of you.

when you didn’t respond, he sighed, opening the door wider and stepping into the room. you felt his weight pull down the mattress as he sat, and his hand met your side over the blanket, gently rubbing, trying to coerce a response out of you.

“it’s 4 o’clock,” dean murmured, studying your face and the way you hid it in the pillow. “you don’t wanna get up? you’re not hungry?”

he knew his questions were redundant. he’d asked them every day since you’d first fallen into this depression.

you shook your head against the pillow. “m’tired,” you muttered.

“i know, sweetheart. i just–” dean sighed, “i’d just like you to eat something. it’s late… and i’m sure you’re hungry.”

he waited.

but you didn’t respond.

“i can make you a sandwich. some toast?” he offered, still rubbing your side over the sheets.

you shook your head again, silently pleading for him to give up like he usually does with these conversations.

“baby, please,” dean’s voice wavered, his usual gruff tone wobbling with emotion as he looked down at you. “please,” he begged again.

“not hungry,” you muttered, finally giving him a reply with words.

dean sighed. his hand moved up to your head, brushing some hair out of your face. his touch was gentle and reverent, like you were something that’d break if he wasn’t careful.

cause perhaps you were.

“i know you’re not, sweetheart, but i want you to eat something. you need to.”

the stale air around you felt thicker as the moments of silence grew, and you felt it suffocating you.

“please, dean,” you tried.

“no… i’m gonna make you something, and you’re gonna eat it for me, okay?”

your eyes finally fluttered open and hesitantly looked up to his. dean’s eyes immediately softened. there you were.

“baby…”

the look of hopelessness on his face made your chin tremble—it was beyond your control. the way his eyes looked sunken in was a reflection of your own misery.

he moved his hand to rest against your cheek. his touch was warm, and you found yourself swimming in the contact.

“c’mon, angel. please…” his voice was strained, tight with emotion that he was trying to keep from spilling out all over you; he didn’t need to make you feel any worse. “let me get you up. come sit in the kitchen. just you and me.”

he didn’t give you time to argue with his words. instead, he gently peeled the blanket away and slid his hands under your body.

a groan of protest left your throat, but your body melted into his as he pulled you up off the mattress.

“there we go,” dean muttered, letting you sit against him. your tired eyes blinked at him, conveying all the words you couldn’t find the energy to speak. “i know, sweetheart, i know. just for ten minutes, yeah?”

you blinked slowly, watching his face search yours. his expression was a mixture of concern and empathy, and you felt your heart lurch at the sight, knowing you were the cause.

his hand stroked your cheek as the silence grew once more. “you’re… you’re a bit ripe, baby,” dean finally spoke, his tone gentle and a little reluctant.

you swallowed. you knew those words should embarrass you, but… you couldn’t find the energy to care. “i know,” you whispered.

dean nodded. “c’mere…”

his big arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest. his hand rubbed your back, attempting to soothe away the sadness he could feel emanating off you.

you melted into his embrace, his warmth alleviating some of the tension in your body.

“i love you, baby. let me look after you… please. it kills me to see you like this,” he whispered into your hair.

you let out a soft noise, one that left your throat without your permission.

“i know,” dean murmured. he pulled back and looked down at your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. his eyes softened as he met your tired gaze. “i’m gonna run you a bath, okay? i’m gonna help you.”

he nodded along with his words, almost reassuring you with his actions.

you wanted to argue. you wanted to tell him to go away, that you didn’t want a bath, that you just wanted to sleep.

but the pain in dean’s expression stopped you. the way the frown tugged down on his lips and the way his eyes silently pleaded with you had your chest tightening.

“okay.”

dean let out a shaky breath. “yeah, okay. good… that’s my girl.” he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, letting his lips stay against your skin for a few moments before pulling back. “you stay here. i’ll be right back.”

he pulled away from you, your body instantly feeling cold at the absence of his touch. he ducked out into the hallway and down to the bunker bathroom, ready to fill the tub for you and wash off your layer of grime.

you slumped back down into the mattress, your heart beating faster in resigned anticipation. you didn’t want to get up. you didn’t want a bath. you just wanted to fall back into sleep and avoid being awake, like you’d been doing all week.

but dean’s face appeared in your mind, and you knew how much this meant to him. your heart ached knowing you were the cause of his sadness, and so you sat back against the sheets, waiting with a heavy heart for him to return.

dean entered the room again only moments later. he stood beside the bed looking down at you, a cautious yet glum smile pulling at his lips. “bath’s running. you just– you just wait there.”

you watched him pull out the drawers of his dresser, grabbing an old shirt and a pair of his boxers, before dipping back out of the room in a rush.

a few minutes passed before dean returned again. he approached your sad state on the bed and loomed over you with a steady presence. “okay, sweetheart. bath’s full. c’mere.”

he bowed down and slipped his hands under your lifeless body, pulling you away from the warm sheets of the bed and into him. your head instinctively ducked into his neck, searching for closeness as he began carrying you out to the bathroom.

“it's gonna be okay, baby,” dean murmured into your hair. “i’m gonna look after you, okay?”

his gentle words made your heart flutter, the first sign of life in your chest in days. a warmth spread, and you sighed, nodding in response.

dean walked you into the bathroom, closing the door with his foot before setting you down in front of him. the tiles were cold against your feet, and the fresh air of the bathroom invaded your nose. it was a lot, after being surrounded by the stale air of his bedroom for so long, but dean’s presence somehow made it all feel okay.

you looked at him, waiting to see what he’d do, but his eyes were already on you—round and wide with that same glimmer of concern, but still full of so much love.

“let’s get you undressed,” he said softly, his hands already moving to the pyjama shirt you’d been marinating in for the past few days.

you nodded, wordlessly, and let him pull it over your head, your arms slipping out of the fabric and covering your bare chest. dean’s eyes flickered down to the covered skin, and a small smile grew on his lips. “s’nothing i haven’t seen before, baby. you’re alright.”

you felt a smile threaten to tug on your own lips at his small remark—another beat of life returning to you momentarily.

dean pulled down your pyjama shorts and underwear in another careful movement, gently lifting your feet to slip them out of the leg holes.

“there we go,” he huffed softly, throwing your soiled clothes into the laundry basket.

dean’s face softened as his gaze returned to you, and his eyes swept over your form reverently. “my beautiful girl,” he breathed out, the love seeping from his words. your sad heart soaked it up as he cupped your cheek with his palm, the contact almost electrifying for a moment, waking you up from your slightly hazy state.

“let’s get you in the tub, yeah?” he murmured once again, his green eyes flickering between yours in assurance.

you nodded.

and dean nodded in return before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “that’s my girl.”

he guided you to the bathtub. bubbles floated on top of the water, and steam plumed up into the air. the sweet scent of your body wash filled your nostrils as you stood in front of it.

dean watched your eyes take in the sight, a small smile gracing his face. “i did alright, didn’t i?” he let out a soft laugh.

you glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at his beautiful face. god, you loved him. “yeah,” you replied softly, your voice nothing more than a mere whisper.

but still, dean smiled.

he was pulling more words from you in fifteen minutes than he had been for the past week.

“hop in, baby. it’s nice and warm.”

you tentatively dipped a foot in, testing the temperature, before committing and taking a seat in the water.

the warm water surrounded you, gently lapping at your skin like gentle kisses on an ocean shore. it felt nice, and you were already feeling better than you had been all week.

“good?” dean asked as he lowered himself beside the tub, sitting on his knees.

you relaxed back against the porcelain. “good.”

dean smiled once more, taking in the sight of you. “i’m glad,” he murmured. he let his hand reach over the tub and dip under the water, meeting your knee. he gave it a gentle squeeze.

you let out a deep sigh, a long sound that seemed to escape your lungs without your consent. dean just nodded. “i know, baby,” he said, squeezing your knee again. “i'm gonna wash you and get you back to bed. i know you’re feeling rough, my baby. just let me do this for you.”

his tender words struck at your heart, your heartstrings tightening as a frown grew on your lips. as little as his words seemed at face value, they meant the world. he saw you. he saw the pain that existed within you, and yet, he was okay with it. he understood it, and you could see he was more than willing to help you shoulder it. that much was clear.

and so you nodded once more, words seeming too daunting for you to handle. dean hummed and picked up your shampoo bottle from beside the tub. “can you wet your hair for me?” he asked, his soft eyes falling over your face.

you swallowed and slipped down, dipping your head into the water.

you found yourself falling back into a hazy state as dean began washing your hair, his gentle hands massaging the suds into your scalp—the motion tender and careful, like he was touching you for the first time again, cautious that you’d pull away.

your eyes fluttered shut, your wet lashes draped over your warm cheeks as he rinsed and conditioned your hair. emotions bubbled in your chest at the feeling of being looked after, cared for like your soul had been aching for. dean took care of you with such love, and your fragile soul soaked it up, revelling in his presence for the first time in days instead of feeling repulsed by it.

the salty tears escaped your eyes while dean began scrubbing your body clean. 

dean saw them.

“oh, sweetheart,” his voice wavered. his free hand came up and cupped your cheek, almost guiding your face to meet his gaze. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

you looked at him through your blurry vision, the tears still spilling down your cheeks and your throat closing up from how much his touches were forcing up emotions that suffocated your airways.

you whimpered.

“i know, baby, i know. i’m so sorry you feel like this,” dean murmured. he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger a few seconds longer than necessary, as if he was trying to kiss away some of the hurt from inside of you.

your lips trembled, and your chin quivered. it felt too much. it all felt too much.

you let out a sob—a quiet one, the sound broken and pained.

dean felt his heart rip. there was no other way to describe it. he felt your pain evaporate from your insides and expel itself into the air in the form of sobs.

maybe your tears were good, and maybe your sobs too.

he kept gently scrubbing your body clean, his heart twisting at every cruel sound that escaped you. “i know, angel, i know. i’m so sorry. i wish i could make it better.”

you cried.

for the first time in weeks.

you felt the floodgates open, and you had no way of closing them. the sounds were almost guttural, ravaging your insides and tearing out of your mouth.

but as painful as it all seemed, your sobs lightened it—lessened the load of what you were carrying inside, lightened the heavy feeling that had manifested itself into the dull ache in your chest.

you couldn’t see through your tears by the time dean had drained the bath and managed to wrap you in a towel and pull you into his arms.

“i wish i could take away your pain. i’d take all of it, every last drop, baby, just so you’d never have to feel like this again,” he whispered into your hairline. his voice was so soft, so raw, and so sincere. “i’m so sorry.”

he kept his strong arms around you, holding onto you like a vice, feeling like you’d shatter into a million pieces if he were to let go. you just collapsed into him, your body seeking his comfort after days of stubbornly rejecting it.

when really

it was all that you’d needed.

you couldn’t say how long you stood in the bathroom together, just letting him hold you. but it didn't matter. you felt your internal turmoil lessen with each second that passed, like dean alone was sucking out the oxygen that kept your pain’s flame alight.

your heart beat in your chest; a steady rhythm gently pounding under your skin. you could feel dean’s too, right under your ear as you rested your head against him, neither of you caring about soaking his shirt with your wet hair or the droplets of water that were landing on the floor.

it didn’t matter.

dean finally pulled his head back, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. his gaze flickered down to your face still buried in his chest, searching for solace in his touch, in his presence.

“i love you so much,” he muttered, his voice low and delicate, not wanting to break the moment. “i want you to get better… and i want you to talk to me, okay? i want to help with whatever’s going on in here.”

he gently poked at your temple.

you swallowed down the lump in your throat. it felt scratchy from how badly you’d sobbed your throat raw.

but you looked up at him, blinking. you nodded.

dean nodded back.

he was gentle as he pressed you against the counter, the back of your legs hitting the edge. and he was even gentler as he rubbed in your moisturiser and towel-dried your hair.

he was so beautiful. so patient. so understanding.

and though your insides were turning inside out, practically screaming at you to back away and hide in the comfort of his dark bedroom, you stayed put, allowing dean’s presence to mute the constant array of dark thoughts from bouncing around in your mind.

he soothed you. inside and out.

and part of you hated yourself for rejecting this for so long, denying yourself his comfort.

dean thought you looked vacant as he dressed you, pulling up his old boxers over your legs and covering you in one of his shirts. his chest hurt, but again, this was more from you than you’d given him in a week.

and that meant something.

he didn't let go of you the entire walk back to his bedroom. his hand was wrapped around yours, tight, almost like he was trying to remind you of the devotion he felt for you.

the smell of his bedroom air hit your nose as you walked back in. was it really this bad before? it was like your innermost thoughts were hung in the air, polluting the room with a foul stench that reeked of misery.

you frowned.

dean let his hand run up your arm, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into him again. you let him, melting into his warm embrace.

“you hungry? don’t say no.”

you glanced up at his face, taking in his softened expression. you allowed yourself to nod. 

“okay, yeah. good,” he murmured. he pulled away, reaching over to his desk. you saw the plate in his hand. two pieces of toast sat on top of the ceramic dish.

“i texted sam…” he explained, trailing off as he passed you the plate.

you nodded again. “thank you,” you returned, a quiet muttering.

“i– i’m gonna change the sheets, sweetheart. i can’t– i can’t sleep another night in them… and that’s saying something… you know, coming from me,” he said, his humour lightening up the heavy mood of the room. he smiled gently. “you sit. eat.”

dean pulled out his desk chair and gestured for you to take a seat. you slumped down into it, letting out a soft sigh.

he kept his eyes on you as he pulled the dirty sheets off his bed, stripping it bare as he watched you take small hesitant bites of the toast that sam had made. you looked tired, practically fusing back into the chair, but at least you were up. that's what dean told himself.

“gonna grab some new sheets, okay? finish your toast, baby. i'll be back in a sec.” he spoke to you like how someone speaks to a toddler—gentle and soft like the wrong word or tone would send you spiralling back into bed for another week, but he couldn’t afford that, not when he had managed to get this far with you.

you nodded, and he left the room with the dirty sheets in hand, returning only moments later with the fresh linen that immediately lifted the room’s scent.

you had finished your toast by the time dean was done pulling the sheets onto the bed. you put the empty plate back onto his desk and looked up at him with wide tired eyes.

dean came over, standing in front of your legs. “all done?”

you nodded. “yeah.”

his hand made contact with your head, brushing some of your damp hair back and petting you. his movements were gentle, like he had to be extra delicate with you in your fragile state, but his touch sent a surge of love and affection through you—something that jolted you awake for what felt like the first time in days.

you looked up at his face, like really looked up.

“i love you,” you muttered out, no louder than a whisper.

dean’s hand paused in your hair. his face softened. “i know, baby. i love you too… more than anything in the world.”

his hand slipped down to your cheek, cupping it tenderly. his palm was warm, almost searing against your skin with unspoken words of affection. his thumb rubbed along your cheekbone.

“can i hold you?” he asked, his twinkling green eyes searching yours, rounded like he was bracing himself for you to say no.

but you nodded, leaning into his touch. “please.”

dean let out a breath. “mmkay, up you get then, angel.”

you stood up from the chair. he pulled the sheets back, helping guide you back into the warmth and safety of his bed. dean slipped in after you, the mattress dipping under his weight. his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him.

you felt your body relax for the first time in days, releasing all the tension from your muscles and melting against him almost innately. you sighed, closing your eyes.

dean pulled you closer. “i got you, sweetheart. you know i’ve always got you.”

fig yaps: first time doing proper angst !!!!!! i hope it’s not cringe omf i’m hiding away after i post this !!!! BUT comfort fic ??? hopefully !!! i started writing this when i took my lil break bc i was sad as hell and all i wanted was for dean to look after me LMAOOO i hope u enjoyed <3

reblogs and feedback are appreciated :P

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[greengoblinswifey]

Making Hwang In-ho work for your pussy.

From the moment you and In-ho met, it was clear he wasn’t used to waiting for what he wanted—especially not when it came to intimacy. Yet, here he was, two months into a relationship with you, frustrated but captivated.

You’d been upfront from the start. “I don’t do casual, and I don’t rush into things. If that’s a problem, you can leave now,” you’d said on your first date, holding his gaze with unwavering confidence.

In-ho, used to a world where his power and wealth cleared every hurdle, had been taken aback. But instead of walking away, he’d leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. “Challenge accepted.”

And a challenge it had been.

He’d tried everything to win you over, lavish gifts, private dinners at the most exclusive restaurants, bouquets of flowers that seemed to appear at your doorstep almost daily. He wasn’t just trying to impress you, he was trying to prove he could play by your rules.

“You’re making me work harder than anyone ever has,” he said one evening over champagne at a rooftop restaurant he’d rented out just for the two of you.

“You don’t have to,” you replied with a sly smile. “But you do if you want me.”

And he did. Oh, he wanted you. Needed you.

In-ho found himself doing things he never imagined. Like taking time off from overseeing the games, something unheard of for him—just to spend an afternoon with you at an art exhibit you’d mentioned wanting to see. Or the time he drove across the city to find a specific book you’d been searching for, presenting it to you like it was a trophy.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said one night as he handed you a pair of diamond earrings.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply. But in truth, he was growing more frustrated by the day. Every lingering kiss, every time your hands wandered but stopped just short of crossing the line, left him aching for more.

Still, he waited. Because as much as he craved you, he found himself liking you more with each passing day, your wit, your intelligence, the way you held your ground. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met.

When the night finally came, it wasn’t planned. You were at his home, sharing wine and laughter on the couch. His hand brushed against yours, and when your eyes met, there was something different in your eyes, something softer, inviting.

“In-ho,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” His voice was calm, but his body tensed, like a predator sensing its moment.

“I think I’m ready.”

His eyes darkened, and his hand moved to cup your cheek. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “Yes. I want you to fuck me. I want you.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed you deeply, his hands sliding over your body, memorizing every curve. He carried you to his bedroom, laying you down on the silk sheets as if you were something precious.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy for months,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed down your neck.

“I know,” you teased, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I’m going to make this worth the wait,” he promised, and he did.

He worshipped you that night, his touch both rough and tender, his words a mixture of praise and moans of your name. It was as if he were trying to make up for all the time he’d spent wanting you, showing you just how much he’d been holding back.

He started slow, savoring every moment, every taste of your pussy, every clench of your walls around his cock. Until, he remembered this was the first of many times he’d be fucking you. Until he remembered how long you made him wait to have you. After this realization, he fucked you like no one had ever done before.

He gave you long, deep strokes, stretching and filling you to the brim. His hands trailed all over your body, touching you as though you would slip away. His lips never left you, whether it be on your lips or tits. He worked hard for your pussy, and he’d get all that it was worth.

“Made me wait so fucking long for this tight pussy,” he grunted in your ear, pounding into you. “You’re lucky you feel good.”

His hands wrapped around your neck as he rolled his hips harshly against you and that did it. The past two months of restraint and underlying tension finally built over and you both came undone with you absolutely soaking his cock and the sheets below. You were just as deprived as him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against your ear, his voice hoarse. “So worth it.”

In the quiet aftermath, as you lay tangled together, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’d wait all over again for you,” he said softly.

You smiled, your head against his chest. “Good. Because you’re not going anywhere.”

[marvelstoriesepic]

❀ 𝓑𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝓑𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈 ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ❀

Last updated: June 8

I’m only writing for Bucky Barnes

Lots of love for my Bucky people! ♡

I do not consent my work to getting republished

My work can include heavy themes (such as sexual assault, abuse, panic attacks, death, toxic behavior, self-doubt etc). Each chapter and fic will have their own warnings, but if anything might trigger you, be cautious!

If you are interested in reading the Bucky fics I loved on this app, check out my list of fic recommendations on my other blog @buckbuckbarnesstuff

If you'd like to support my work, here is my ko-fi ♡ (this is entirely optional, please don’t feel pressured)

˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔ October Writing Challenges 2024 ˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔

⋆⁺₊❅. Whumpcember Masterlist 2024 ⋆⁺₊❅.

✿ 2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist ✿

WIP Game / WIP Game / newest WIP Game

♡ - personal fav

❁ - fic with 300+ notes

✯ - fic with 500+ notes

☘︎ - fic with 1000+ notes

𐦍 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𐦍

Breaking Chains (on hiatus)

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Like a Phoenix (completed) [92.2k] ☘︎

Mercenary!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Summary: An attack on your palace thrusts your only hope for survival into the hands of a mercenary who is forced to protect you, all due to a vow he made many years before. Though, those are circumstances neither of you have chosen.

A Window Open to the Moon (ongoing)

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Adopting a kitten from the animal shelter was an easy decision for Bucky and you. But Alpine soon becomes the excuse you never needed to finally get close.

𐦍 𝒯𝓌𝑜-𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈 𐦍

1. Tangled ropes [8.2k] & 2. Beyond the Horizon

Sailor!Bucky x reader

Summary: A new sailor arrives at the docks amongst Captain Barton’s crew. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, the way he carries himself, or perhaps it’s the way his eyes are the echo of the ocean in color and depth. But something about him makes you want to untangle the ropes that seem to choke his spirit.

1. The ropes that bind me [13.4k] & 2. Bridge to your world

Fisherman!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Being a creature of the sea, you are bound to a life beyond the surface, always in sight of the human realm, yet forever out of grasp. But after centuries of this finned existence it’s a fisherman coming to the docks day after day that compels you to bridge the gap between your worlds, despite the warnings about humanity being ingrained into your kind your whole life. Will you meet the same tragic end as several of your sisters before?

1. In too deep [7.4k] ☘︎ & 2. Different, this time [10.3k] ☘︎

Fuck buddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: After Bucky calls, and you come running, you end up locked in his bathroom, trying to get rid of the evidence that something hasn’t gone well this time.

1. All up in Flames [9.4k] & 2. Not the Time I Meant to Call You [10.7k]

Firefighter!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You just want your toxic ex-boyfriend’s things to stop haunting your apartment. So you let your friends lit the match. But then the sirens come, and with them Bucky Barnes, who puts out more than just the flames.

𐦍 𝒪𝓃𝑒-𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈 𐦍

Listen to your gut [2.8k] ✯

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Still on the list [14.1k] ☘︎

Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.

Casual Sweetness [2.3k] ♡ ✯

Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Two [6.2k] ♡ ✯

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.

Latte (He)art [7.8k]

Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Ocean’s claim [5.9k]

Lifeguard!Bucky x Amateur!Surfer!Reader

Summary: Seeking a thrill, your friend Natasha convinces you to go surfing during stormy weather conditions - a bad idea as you come to experience.

Pirate Nights and Pumpkin Lights [1.7k]

Modern!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you take Morgan, Billy, and Tommy trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Weakness [7.2k] ☘︎

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass.

Like he means it [13.6k] ☘︎

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you.

Creamy or Crunchy [3.7k] ♡ ☘︎

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise.

Supposed Distraction [7.6k] ☘︎

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s birthday and you and your friends are planning a surprise party. That leaves you with the task to distract him while the others prepare.

Small gesture, Big meaning [3k] ✯

Tfatws!Bucky x Shield!Reader

Summary: Sam and you prepare something for Bucky’s birthday with the little you can scrape together.

Change your mind [6.5k] ☘︎

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Natasha drags you to an NYU baseball game. And despite yourself, one player catches your attention.

A Thousand Times Before [16.5k] ☘︎

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky travels to an alternate universe for the sake of a mission. But he doesn’t expect to come face to face with a version of you that loves him, completely and openly. Back in his own world, he is left with a truth he can’t keep to himself anymore.

𐦍 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈 𐦍

Paranoia [1.4k] ✯

Avenger!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

Learn his way [1.5k] ✯

College!Bucky x College!Tutor!Reader

Summary: Bucky is more interested in learning about you than biology

Five days, Five bouquets [1k] ♡ ☘︎ + A Home for Now [2.8k]

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Five days of a fake marriage. Five days of Bucky bringing you flowers.

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

[fastandcarlos]

The Perfect Ride : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you can't help but wonder what you were thinking putting heels on, but as the pain nags away at you, luckily you've got lando there to offer his services

Lando struggled to hold back his laughter as he glanced back again, watching as you tentatively walked, holding onto anything around you for support. In theory, wearing heels to dinner at his parents was a great idea, but now you were suffering and walking each step full of regret. 

“Please tell me we’ve not got that much longer to go,” you sighed as Lando walked towards you and closed the distance between you both. “I can’t believe you let me leave the house in heels.” 

Finally a chuckle escaped from Lando, having asked you several times before you left the house whether you were sure you wanted to wear them. You were confident that things would be fine, brushing Lando aside despite how vocal he was with his concerns for you. 

“I told you so,” he shrugged, allowing you to rest your hand against his shoulder to steady yourself. “I was serious when I said you should’ve left the house in your crocs.” 

“Sure, I’m your parents would’ve loved me showing up in my crocs, are you actually insane Lan?” 

With Lando holding onto you, you started walking again, wincing every single time your foot hit the floor. You were keen to make a good impression, having only met Lando’s parents a handful of times, but now you knew that impressing them was not as important as being comfortable. 

Lando’s arm snaked around your waist as he walked at your pace, encouraging you to keep moving, trying his best to distract you from the pain in your feet. 

“Sorry that I’m taking so long,” you told Lando, glancing across and meeting his eyes. “We probably could’ve been home by now if I wasn’t wearing these stupid things. This is ridiculous.” 

Lando offered you a sympathetic smile, “it’s pretty nice weather tonight, I’m quite happy being out here and admiring the beautiful sunset, I don’t mind.” 

“Nice try trying to make me feel a little less guilty.” 

“I’m being serious,” Lando tried his best to assure you, “when was the last time we got to take a slow walk and just soak in our surroundings for a little while?” 

You stopped again, letting go of a deep breath. “It would be nice to be able to do that without feeling like I want to get a saw and chop both of my feet off.” 

Your confession had Lando giggling, as much as he sympathised with how you were feeling, he was struggling to keep himself composed and supportive amongst all of your dramatics.  

Despite how nice you wanted to look, Lando never wanted you to make the effort at a cost. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to suffer just for him, to look good for him, he wouldn’t have cared if you showed up in your pyjamas, just having you there with his family was more than enough for him.  

“We might still be here to see the sunrise too if we carry on like this,” Lando smiled, trying his best to bring a smile back to your face. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re starting to enjoy this?” You challenged, narrowing your eyes in Lando’s direction. “I might just bin them and walk bare foot for the rest of the way home instead.” 

Lando’s head shook, picking you up as soon as you bent down to undo the buckle of your shoe. “You can’t do that, it’s not safe baby. I’ve got a different idea that might be able to solve your problem though?” 

You watched as Lando stood in front of you, tapping against his back, inviting you to jump up. “Are you being serious?” You laughed, watching as he looked over his shoulder at you, nodding his head. “You think you can piggyback me home?” 

“I do actually want to get home at some point tonight.” 

Lando tapped his back again, feeling your hands hold onto his shoulders. You counted down before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hands go underneath your knees to lift you up and keep you secure as your arms draped in front of Lando’s chest. 

“See,” he smiled, immediately starting to walk with you comfortably resting against him. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m carrying anything on my back you’re so light.” 

“You are such a liar Lando Norris.” 

“I’m serious,” he chuckled, walking at a much quicker pace than he had done whilst you were on your feet too. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy the ride and let me worry about making sure you get home in one piece tonight.” 

Your head nodded as you took a look around the street, figuring out whereabouts you were. “Have I ever told you how much of a hero you are? Always saving the day for me.” 

“That’s just what boyfriends are for, right?” Lando laughed in response. 

Sure, in a relationship you were supposed to be looked after, but Lando always seemed to find a way to go above and beyond. If you were ever stuck, he was always there to help you with the right answer to fix things.  

Your smile was wide as Lando continued walking, it was surprisingly comfortable up on his back, making the most of not having to worry about the ache in your feet for a little while. 

“I hope you know how important you are to receive treatment like this, I don’t offer a piggyback to anyone you know,” Lando smirked, breaking the silence between you both. 

You hummed back at him, finding yourself beginning to get sleepy. Lando could feel your head beginning to weigh down on top of his own, hearing your breaths get a little heavier as you struggled to keep your eyes open. A smile crept onto Lando’s face, relieved to feel and hear how comfortable you were. 

“Don’t be falling asleep on me up there,” he teased, “I can’t walk the rest of the way home talking to myself, people will think I’m weird if they hear that.” 

“I’m awake, I promise,” you assured him, fighting the urge to close your eyes, trying your best to focus on something to stay awake. 

Lando glanced up questionably back at you, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would hear you falling asleep, knowing when he got home it would be his job to get you tucked into bed and try not to wake you up.  

“Are we almost home?” You asked Lando, not quite sure how much longer you could hold on for, feeling sleep getting closer with every second that passed. 

“Don’t worry about that, close your eyes if you want to love,” Lando smiled, “I don’t mind if you do, I’ll just sing to myself for the rest of the way home. 

You nodded in reply to Lando, “thank you for always being there for me and helping me, I really do appreciate it Lando.” 

“I know you do,” Lando whispered, “but you never have to thank me, I love being the one that gets to take care of you.” 

“And you do such a good job of it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[nottswitch]

— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

──────────── 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.─

summary: they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.

pairing: theo nott x reader

cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise, cursing, italian pet names

wc: 2.1k

a/n: getting back to kinkmas at last !! enjoy some etl theodore filth babes <3

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; theo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

────────────────────────

You had absolutely no idea how you ended up at the same party as the guy whose entire goal in life was to make yours as difficult as possible. To be entirely honest, you weren’t any better – your taunting seemed to mirror his in its viciousness, for no apparent reason on both sides. Somewhere, at one point, everything went to shit with you two. At first, it used to cause tensions in the friend group, because you just couldn’t stop constantly bickering and throwing all kinds of insults at each other, but over time, your inexplicable apprehension towards each other became a constant – a very annoying one, but a constant nonetheless.

Pansy promised. She promised that the New Year’s Eve party would stay Theodore Nott-free, he had some prior commitment, blah-blah-blah – irrelevant. Because right now, you were looking straight at his infuriating face as he was pressing you against the wall, his deep ocean eyes you couldn’t admit to finding captivating staring into yours. The sounds of the party were muffled, the beat of the music dully thumping through the narrow corridor, sending faint vibrations through the floor.

“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” you hissed, crossing your arms on your chest in a manner that you hoped would come off as defiant, even though you knew it was a defense – same thing, different flavor.

Theo smirked – the smirk that always made your blood boil, a sign that he was enjoying himself way more than he should have.

“How could I ever leave you alone, tesoro?” he drawled, his voice mocking yet carrying a hint of intensity that you had never heard there before. Then again, with him, you could’ve easily just imagined it. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you can’t stay away from me either. And I wouldn’t be that far off, no?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness – it was in no way a surprise, yet it still made your irritation rise to the very top, bubbling up and threatening to escape in the form of another quip.

“Get your head out of your ass, Nott,” you muttered, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Nott?” Theo taunted in response, leaning in just a bit closer – and that tiny little bit made your heart skip a beat, which you found to be a completely uncalled-for reaction. “Last time I checked, I was ‘Theo, please, faster!’.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

You hated the way your cheeks instantly flushed at his reminder – you did not need to remember that night when your entire composure crumbled to pieces, and you ended up in his bed, screaming his name so loud the walls were nearly shaking.

And you felt like you were on the brink of doing it again.

“If you insist,” Theo murmured, his lips now at your ear, nearly brushing against your skin – the bastard knew exactly how to get to you, unfortunately. You gritted your teeth, trying to resist for a fleeting moment, but when his hand slipped onto your waist, you gave up – and in.

“I hate you,” you whispered, roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a heated kiss. Theo didn’t even gasp, which made a nasty thought spark up in your mind – he’d been waiting for this all along, and it probably wouldn’t be too far-fetched to guess that it was the only reason he came to the party in the first place. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, a stark mirror to the contradictory feelings you both shared – biting, rough around the edges, yet at the core of it there was passion that neither of you could bother to deny.

In a matter of seconds, both of Theo’s hands were on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hands flew up to his shoulders, breaking the self-imposed physical barrier of your arms across your chest and also symbolizing the last bits of your composure withering away. Theo knew – he had to have known – that this would happen, because his palm was at the ready, closing around your breast as soon as it was free to touch. He kneaded the softness of your flesh, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his hips started slowly but firmly rocking against you. You felt his hard, already throbbing cock pressing into your clothed pussy, and once again, you were somewhat amused by his ability to get hard in seconds.

“Been like this all night, bambina,” Theo murmured into your mouth, as if hearing your thoughts out loud. So, not in seconds. “The moment I saw you in this dress… Fuck.”

His other hand gripped the hem of your sparkly red dress, lifting it up just enough for it to bunch up at your waist. His eyes flicked down for a moment, a needy growl escaping his mouth as he took in the sight of your fishnets doing a very poor job at covering up the red lace of your panties.

“Wore these for me?” he asked teasingly, although his hoarse voice completely betrayed the fact that he was insanely aroused. His fingers traced the edge of the lace with an almost reverent touch before hooking through the hole of your fishnets and suddenly tearing them apart.

Your eyes widened, not quite expecting the roughness, but you knew you should have – Theo wasn’t known to be a patient man when it came to getting what he carnally desired, and at the moment, the object of that desire was you.

“What the–” you started, but he quickly shut you up with a kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and swirling around, effectively making you moan. The sound only got louder as you felt his fingers sliding over your panties, savoring the wetness that started to seep through the fabric; he wasn’t the only one with a one track mind since the start of the party – the sight of him in his dark green dress shirt, three buttons at the top undone, caught your eye as soon as he stepped into the room.

“Such a wet little pussy for me, huh?” he whispered breathlessly into your mouth, rubbing a circle over your clothed core before easily slipping underneath – the feeling of your soft, drenched skin made him groan, perfectly matching your own sounds. “Wish I could keep you like this all the time… So fucking pliant…”

And shit, you wouldn’t be able to deny his words even if you tried – you were pliant under his touch, you did turn into melted butter as soon as his index and middle finger slipped inside you, you did clench your thighs around his waist as he started pumping in and out. He was just as pliant, though – you could tell by the way his cock was poking into your inner thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers. If you had half a mind to look down, you would see a wet spot forming at the front, clear evidence of the fact that he wanted you with the same ever-consuming intensity.

You grew a bit bolder, the pleasure making your brain turn off and forget all about your surroundings or the consequences of your encounter. Your hand traveled down, grabbing Theo’s cock and giving it a firm squeeze, as if to remind him that he was as crazy about you as you were about him. A groan fanned against your ear at the small yet impactful action – a satisfying sound of Theo’s need. His fingers curled inside you before sliding out with a wet pop. The next moment, your juices were being spread all over your lips, mixing with your gloss and creating a strange, sticky texture of sweetness mixed with the tartness of your natural slick. You parted your mouth, letting Theo’s fingers in, your lips wrapping around them and starting to suck, lightly, teasingly, as your hand continued palming his cock.

“Playing with the damn fire, tesoro,” Theo warned in a hiss, taking your hand off of him impatiently. “Naughty, naughty girl.”

In response, you only started sucking more, your head moving back and forth on his fingers. Theo’s eyes were fixed intently on your lips, no doubt imagining them wrapped around something else. He hastily unzipped his trousers with his free hand, pulling them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers. His erection sprung free, slapping against his shirt-covered stomach. You glanced down, feeling even more turned on as you drank in the sight of his swollen, throbbing cock, knowing that it would be splitting you open very very soon.

And it did. Oh, gods, it did. With a single thrust, Theo entered, his tip immediately reaching your cervix. You moaned around his fingers, your eyes rolling back at the mixture of pain and pleasure – the feelings he could easily elicit in you, both physically and emotionally.

He wasn’t holding back, not in the slightest – his pace was rough and unrelenting, fucking all his frustrations of the last year into you. Your back was moving up and down against the wall, the heated surface scratching your skin, your high heels digging into the small of his back each time he pounded. He didn’t mind the sting, though, just like you didn’t mind the dull ache of his hand digging into your hip, without a doubt leaving marks. Finally, his fingers left your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another sloppy mess that could be called a kiss.

The combined sounds of your moans almost drowned out the chatter of the party, but still, you could faintly hear the crowd starting to chant the countdown to the New Year. You pulled away, ignoring Theo’s disappointed whine for a second, trying to hold back on your own noises as you listened.

“The count– The countdown,” you shakily breathed out, meeting Theo’s glossed-over eyes with your misty gaze. He groaned and shook his head, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to stop, not until you were both panting and sweating.

“Who gives a fuck?” he asked in the same breathless voice as yours, his cock somehow reaching even deeper spots, as if trying to coax any stray thoughts out of your head. “What, scared you’re not getting a New Year’s kiss?”

His ability to tease you even as he was balls deep inside of you made you want to slap him, hard. You almost did it, if only you had the strength to move your limbs.

“Yeah, wanted to make a wish,” you tried to retort, your words sounding less convincing than you’d like them to be. “To never see your stupid face again.”

“Oh really? And here I was, about to wish for your charming self every day.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual mocking, but they ended up rolling for a completely different reason as Theo pounded into you with an especially rough thrust at the ‘three’ sounding from the main party room.

At the ‘two’, one of his hands was on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh. His eyes were fixed on yours again, the intensity from before making you question if there was any truth behind his words.

At the ‘one’, your lips were crashing together once again as the orgasm washed over the both of you, accompanied by the fireworks blowing up outside. Red bursts of light coming from the window on the other side of the corridor cast your flickering shadows onto the wall, the beautiful sight in the sky barely registering in your fucked out mind. The only thing you could feel at the moment was the warmth of Theo’s cum slowly starting to trickle down your thighs, staining Theo’s pants in the process.

“You know,” he murmured, hoarse and panting, his dampened forehead resting against yours, “you make really nice sounds when I’m fucking you brainless, tesoro. I’ll make sure they’re the only ones you’re making with me all year long.”

You breathed out a small chuckle, closing your eyes as you started to come down from the high you were both still stuck on.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Theo?”

“Both, baby. Both.”

[slutoru1207]

Variant!Invincible x Variant!Reader funny imagine

haha i had fun writing this

The battlefield was pure chaos. The Invincible War had brought together versions of Mark from across the multiverse, and now? Now there were also multiple versions of you.

And it was absolute insanity.

One Mark—dressed in a sleek black and red suit—landed beside the original Mark, wiping blood off his face. "Okay, not gonna lie, I was not expecting this many versions of your girlfriend."

"Tell me about it," Mark groaned, dodging a stray blast. "They’ve been all over me for weeks!"

"Sounds like a dream."

"It’s not!"

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, your variants had found their Marks.

"Hey there, handsome," one of you cooed, sidling up to a Mark with a scar over his eye and a much darker aura. "You look dangerous. I like that."

Scarred Mark raised a brow. "And you don’t look scared of me."

You smirked. "Why would I be? I’ve got a thing for bad boys."

Somewhere else, a more unhinged Mark—eyes burning with bloodlust—was being held back by two versions of you, both giggling. "Aww, you’re cute when you’re trying to kill people."

"Let. Me. Go," he snarled.

One of you poked his cheek. "Nah, you’re kinda fun to mess with."

Back with the original Mark, he turned just in time to see three versions of you hanging off different versions of himself. One had her arms draped around a Mark with a robotic arm, whispering in his ear. Another was poking at a Mark with white streaks in his hair, teasing him about how cool he looked.

And the worst? One of you had cozied up to a Mark in a full Viltrumite uniform—the kind that screamed evil overlord.

"So," she purred, tracing a finger down his chest. "Conquering planets, huh? That’s hot."

The Viltrumite Mark smirked. "You’re intriguing."

Original Mark nearly had a stroke. "ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH A VILTRUMITE?!"

Your variant shrugged. "I mean, yeah. Have you seen him?"

Mark groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t deal with this. I can’t."

Meanwhile, the Guardians of the Globe watched the multiversal madness unfold, completely dumbfounded.

"Dude," Rex whispered, eyes wide. "I don’t know whether to be jealous or terrified."

Dupli-Kate sighed. "Both. Be both."

As the battle raged on, it became very clear that the variants—both of Mark and you—were a force to be reckoned with. Some worked together perfectly, back-to-back in combat, protecting each other without hesitation. Others? Well…

"Babe, heads up!" One of you flung a chunk of debris toward a Mark locked in combat.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t her Mark.

"THAT'S NOT MY MARK!" the original you shrieked as the wrong Mark got flattened.

"Oops."

Mark groaned. "I hate this war."

Suddenly, a new portal ripped open in the sky, and out came even more Marks and Readers, their outfits and battle stances making it very clear they had been fighting in their own universes. One Reader stepped forward, looking around with a smirk. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

One Mark, wearing an old, tattered cape, scoffed. "Oh great. More of you."

Another Mark, who looked far too comfortable covered in way too much blood, tilted his head at one of your variants. "I know you."

She grinned. "Yeah, you killed my Mark. Wanna make it up to me?"

Even Original Mark had to do a double take. "WHAT?!"

The battlefield somehow became even worse. One of your variants challenged a Viltrumite Mark to a sparring match, another was actively helping a villain Mark take down a Guardian, and one had somehow convinced a half-robotic Mark to carry her bridal style mid-battle.

"She actually pulled it off," one of your other selves whistled, watching in awe. "Respect."

At this point, even the universe itself seemed exhausted by the sheer amount of chaos. But through it all, one thing remained the same.

It was chaos. It was madness. And, somehow, it was the most entertaining thing that had ever happened in the multiverse.

Because, at the end of the day, no matter what universe they came from—

Marks were Marks.

And Readers? Readers would always drive them insane.

[misserabella]

through your clothes

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary; it was supposed to be professional in between the two of you, but a night alone in the BAU makes it difficult for the two of you to keep your hands off each other

cw; +18 content!, minors dni!!, previous kissing, making out, lots of sexual tension, two idiots pining for months, age gap (about ten years), post! jail! spencer, teasing, voyeurism(?), lots of lingering glances, sex over the clothes, dry humping, almost getting caught, switch spencer and reader!, dirty talking, hair pulling, spencer cums in his pants, non-graphic oral sex (fem! receiving), praising….

along the last couple of months in which you’ve become part of the BAU, this… tension with one of your coworkers had grown. it was a craving, a crush. he was handsome, always prancing on his tight suits, curls perfectly combed and his glasses on the bridge of his nose. he was intelligent, too intelligent, a true genius. his grand knowledge attracted you, made you shaky and hot, your eyes glued to his lips when he would rant about scientific facts. it was impossible to not like him. not want to take him from his tie and pull him down against your lips, kiss him until his glasses would fog up and his mind would go absolutely blank.

but he was your superior. you shouldn’t feel this way about him. you should make no move towards or to him. you needed to keep it professional.

it was late at night, around 3AM. you’d stayed behind to continue working in this case… it was difficult to say the least, really challenging. there were a lot of pieces that didn’t fit. you were leaving your brains on it, your eyes heavy with sleep. but your body was tense. cause he was there too.

things had been a little uncomfortable since a night out with the whole team turned in the two of you having a couple of drinks and unknowingly ended up making out in a secluded space to not get caught. you two had brushed it off as a little tipsy mistake. you two had a great age difference, about 10 years, so it was clear that it most likely was a slip. but it was clear that things had changed.

the lights on his office were lit. seemed to be a late night for him as well. you sigh, yawning.

coffee. you needed a coffee.

while on the kitchen you decided to be kind and bring him some as well. he’d most likely needed it. something you liked about him was how much importance he gave his job and how hard he worked, even after jail. his life hadn’t been easy, but he still tried hard, and that was admirable.

you add his usual amount of sugar. if you were to try the beverage you’d most likely scrunch your face at its sweetness. but he liked it that way. he was a man with a sweet tooth. maybe that’s why spencer found himself being so attracted to you.

you were sweet. sweeter than his coffee, intelligent, attractive… a whole sunshine coming down on him after a hard time of pure rains and cloudy skies.

you take a sip of your coffee as you made your way towards his office, basking in the warmth of the liquid down your throat. you knock twice, waiting for his voice to ring in your ears and give you permission. when he does, you creek the door open.

“hey…” you meet his hazel eyes framed by his glasses. he looks tired. exhausted even. and tense. “brought you some coffee, thought you might need it.” he gives himself a moment while you talk to compose and focus himself, putting on his most professional face and pretending to be completely focused on work. he looks up at you, watching you enter the room and trying to pretend he's not already affected by the way you look and the way your outfits fits your body.

you’re wearing an office black skirt that almost reaches your knees and shows the curves of your hips and thighs along with a button up shirt, which’s upper buttons are unbuttoned to give yourself a breath and more comfort. the heels you wear seemed comfortable as you’d been wearing them the whole day, and added to your stature. they made you taller, but even with them you still had to look up at him to meet his eyes, something he found truly endearing.

“oh. thanks.” he gave you a soft smile as you handed him the cup of coffee, taking a sip. “i actually needed some, i was about to fall asleep.” he joked, and you giggled.

“working on the case?” he nodded. you took some of the files on his desk, leaving your cup of coffee aside. “doctor reid…what do you think about this unsub?” you question, taking a look at his profile. “i think something's definitely not right... something doesn’t fit…”

"yes, I was thinking the exact same thing..." he says, looking up at you as he leaned back in his leather chair to get a better look at the papers spread in front of him. he's trying his best to be professional, but can't help his eyes trailing quickly over your body as well. he cleared his throat. “his behavior is confusing. on some scenes he’s methodical, doesn’t commit mistakes, whereas on others he’s frantic, irresponsible and impulsive.”

you looked down at him, at his spread legs. his black suit pants perfectly fitted to his now more muscular thighs. he seemed to had gained strength while in jail. your mind wandered to the possibility of sitting down on them, on the muscle of his thighs in between your legs. “his mind is scattered…” you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to trail back to the matter.

he caught the way your eyes darkened as they settled over his spread legs. it was almost as if he could tell what you were thinking, his brown puppy eyes reading you like an open book. he had to bite back a groan at the sight of you pressing your teeth into the full flesh of your lip. he could almost remember taste the alcohol out of them he had been craving for weeks after your kiss.

"mhm...” he nods, humming. his tone sends shivers down your spine. you seem to have more on mind. “what’s on your mind?" his fingers come up to his glasses to push them up the bridge of his nose, your attention drifting to his large slim fingers before you got back to your trail of thought.

“uhm... well. he seems to be obsessed with his victims...” your words were dying quickly, your body crumbling underneath the tension that slowly drowned the two of you. your eyes trailed down to his crotch. there were so many scenarios running through your mind…

he feels heat pour into his veins under your gaze. your voice is getting rougher, your eyes glued to him. he wants to stand up and pull you into him, but he stays fixed in his seat. he can't take his eyes off of your darkened ones as he speaks.

keep it professional, reid.

"yeah... and?"

“and... uses them. like toys, just before dumping them.” a shiver runs down your spine at your words.

haring the shiver in your voice sends one up his spine in the same way. “he plays with them. enjoys the power of submitting them under him before his game ends.”

and even though he shouldn’t, he thinks about how it would be to use you like a toy, for you to submit to him.

"mhm..." He responds in a low hum, watching as you start to tremble before him. he leans back, getting more comfortable in his seat as he stares up at you. you don’t longer think the two of you are in the right space to talk about this murderer.

“doctor reid...” you called for him, his hazel eyes catching the last on yours as you stared at his spread legs. he watches from under hooded eyes as your gaze trails over that obvious bulge that has you so entranced.

“what is it, agent y/l/n?" he inquired letting the words escape low in his chest. his heart beats faster at the sound of you breathing in that title as you look down at him.

“what are you doing?” you breathe out, your whole body tingling with the need to move closer, to touch him.

"me?" He echoes back as if he's innocently confused, his tongue running over his lips as he looks up at you with feigned innocence on his face, on his hauntingly beautiful face. "just taking a seat, getting comfortable... working..." he's trying desperately not to give away the game, the hunt and teasing, even as he sees the way your eyes get even darker and more intense.

“yeah...” you coughed, looking away from his lips as his tongue dampening them had caught your attention. you could almost feel them against yours, feel his tongue in your mouth. “then maybe i should... i should get back to my desk. there's a lot of work i need to do and...”

he's practically shaking in his chair as you speak, his breath coming in a shudder as he hears you struggle to maintain your composure, the words you speak seeming to do nothing to keep that desire out of your voice.

"no... you should stay." he says gently, cutting you off, his voice dropping to a huskier tone as he looks up at you.

“what?” you shake, your throat drying up.

"just... stay. sit." he softly reached out and touched your hip to gently pull you in front of him. he lets his hand trail down your thigh, his touch making the skin under your skirt prickle.

“w-where...? there are no more chairs...” you stutter, your nervous eyes scanning the room. he was still moving into the office, he was lucky he had gotten a chair and desk.

he looks up at you through dark eyes, a tiny smirk on his face as he sees the effect his touch is having on you. he wanted more. he wanted to drive you crazy.

“i think you know exactly where, agent.” he softly says. “come, sit..." his hand trailing around to the back of your thighs to pull you as he speaks, moving you to settle comfortably in his lap. your cheeks flush, a whimper leaving your chest as your pussy lands right against his crotch.

he shivers at the feeling of your warmth and your weight against his thighs, having to bite down on his tongue to keep from groaning out loud at the feeling of your body His hands trace over your thighs, fingers digging into the skin of your legs as he relishes the feeling of you on him.

“we shouldn't be doing this...” you tried, breathing heavy. “that kiss... it was a mistake...”

he shook his head immediately at your words, his eyes still fixed on you as he watches the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your body trembles like you're already falling apart on top of him.

"no... you weren't a mistake. this feeling isn't a mistake..." he whispered breathlessly, hands slowly slipping to the edge of your skirt as he looked up at you with eyes full of nothing but complete desire and need for you.

“spencer...” you moaned, biting down on your lip, your hands on his shoulders.

hearing you moan his name sends him over the edge, any ability to hold back completely gone as he feels you start to melt on top of him. he looks up at you hungrily under his lashes before he's finally closing the distance between you, his hands snaking up your back to pull you closer as he presses his lips firmly to yours.

you gasped at the first contact, your hands hurriedly coming up to his hair, kissing him hungrily. he tastes just like you remembered, although now there’s a tang of sweetness on his lips.

he lets out a deep groan as he feels your hands in his hair, his body practically trembling under your touch as he kisses you deeply. he lets one hand slip up your spine to the back of your neck to keep you close, the other trailing down to your waist as his tongue slips forward to press hot and insistent against your bottom lip until your mouth opens for him, your tongues meeting as you tug on his hair.

“doctor…” you sighed, hips thrusting against his in need, making his mind go absolutely hazy and a deep groan coming from his mouth as he feels your desire rubbing so wantonly against him. “this is bad... oh god. we should stop...”

he's so lost in the bliss of your body against his that he can barely process your words, but even as you try to speak them his hands are pulling you tighter against him. “no... don't stop... don't..." he practically begs in a gasp, his head tilting to trail kisses and bites down the side of your neck, humming contently when your head tilts backwards to feel more of his kisses. “anyone could come in... they could catch us.” and it was true, anyone wanting to start early could come into the BAU earlier than normal and hear the two of you.

he moans with your words, the sound of your voice even more delirious with desire only serving to make his mind fuzzy. he knows you're trying to stop this, but his body feels too good, too incredible.

"let them walk in... let them hear you..." he said huskily, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he moves to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

you can't help but whimper, feeling his cock growing harder against you as you roll your hips against him, what makes him let out a deep groan, his head tilting back and his eyes squeezing shut as his mouth falls open around the low sound.

"s-stop... you're going to kill me..." he groans the words out in a gasp, his body growing hot at the friction you're creating with your body.

“you want me to stop?” you whisper on his ear, and he bites down on his lip, shaking his head. “no... no... don't ever stop..." he says gruffly, letting his hands trail up from your waist to your sides, feeling your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. you kiss his jaw and neck. he feels like he's starting to lose his mind at the feeling of you grinding against him, his breath shuddering out in a groan as he feels his body start to shake. "oh my god..." he moans, his chest rising and falling faster and faster with the way you're moving against him. his eyes squeeze shut as he tries to keep himself together, his hands starting to clench around your sides.

“spencer...” you cry out, feeling your stomach tightening at the constant rubbing of your panties against your clit. “feels so good... you feel so good...”

he moans desperately at the sound of you saying his name like this, biting down hard on his lip as he feels you grinding against him so deliciously, your voice so wanton and full of desire for him

"yeah...? feels good?" he shudders out, his eyes flickering behind his closed lids as his head falls back even further against the chair.

you knew you shouldn't. your relationship was meant to be strictly professional. you were supposed to be just team mates, but you wanted to make him cum on his pants. you wanted to make a mess out of him, and that's why you ground your hips harder against his crotch, whining.

he chokes out a groan as he feels you working against him, his hand clenching around your thigh as he tries desperately to keep some modicum of control, fighting the shuddering waves of pleasure that start to roll through him at your motions. his breath comes in sharp through parted lips and they sit against your neck. "oh god... oh god..." he moaned helplessly, desperately trying not to give in right there in the chair.

you leaned on his ear, like the devil on his shoulder. “cum for me, doctor, i'll clean it all up later with my mouth.”

he's already on the edge, his head swimming with the words and the way you keep moving against him. he's never been so far from in control. “fuck.” he groans as he feels himself starting to reach his limit, desperately fighting his body, which only craves release.

“you close, spencer? gonna come for me in your pants?” you mutter only for him to hear against his neck, leaving wet kisses on his skin and tugging at his hair.

he chokes out another moan at the way you taunt him, his body starting to shake under your touch as he nods. "oh god... yes, please..." he whines, his moans starting to sound more and more desperate, even as he can hear the sounds of the crew finally getting in for work, moving around outside the door.

"go ahead doctor. be good for me.” his whole body starts to shudder as you speak, hearing the way you're talking to him like this undoing something inside him. his head falls back with a long, deep groan that you have to quiet with a kiss as his eyes squeezed shut, the force of his orgasm overwhelming him.

you moaned at the warmth of his load spreading through the front of his pants and in between your thighs, your hips grinding down on him to help him ride out his high.

he's breathing hard by the time the rush is over, his mind starting to come back to reality again as he feels your hips and body against his. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment before he's looking up at you with a shuddering groan, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as he shakes his head.

"you're evil... you know that?"

“you were the one who asked me to not stop, doctor.” you smirked, gasping when his strong arms picked you up and places you on top of his desk, his knees hitting the floor as he positioned himself in between your thighs. “what are you doing?!” you whisper-yell when you feel his fingers tug at the hem of your underwear, his lips leaving a soft wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“returning the favor.”

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what loving you feels like to them (pt. 4 - ignihyde) ☠︎︎ .ᐟ

summary: have you ever wondered what falling in love feels like for each twisted wonderland boy? this series explores love from their perspective-how their personalities, experiences, and desires shape what loving you means to them.

featured character(s): idia shroud (no ortho).

content warning(s): none.

a/n: no ortho here—he’s baby, and that’s final. what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words, but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own!

link(s): (masterlist) (pt. 1 - scarabia) (pt. 2 - savanaclaw) (pt. 3 - heartslabyul) (pt. 4 - you are here) (pt. 5 - pomefiore) (pt. 6 - octavinelle) (pt. 7 - diasomnia)

idia shroud

loving you feels like stumbling into a storyline idia shroud never thought he’d get to be part of. love was something he dismissed as a fantasy, the kind of thing that belonged in fairy tales or cheesy RPGs—dramatic, improbable, and definitely not meant for someone like him. but then you appeared, and it was like an unexpected cutscene he didn’t see coming, pulling him out of his predictable, carefully controlled world and into something that felt both heart-pounding and deeply, unmistakably real.

idia has always lived in the safety of the familiar. his world is a perfectly crafted routine, a place where he knows the rules and controls the outcomes. but loving you throws all of that into disarray. you’re the unscripted event, the glitch in his carefully coded reality, the variable that changes everything. it’s overwhelming, like trying to navigate an intricate maze with no clear path, but he finds himself drawn deeper, unable to pull away, even when it feels like he’s completely lost.

loving you is a paradox he can’t quite figure out. it’s frightening—letting you see the parts of himself he’s spent years hiding, the awkwardness, the insecurities, the crippling fear of rejection. but at the same time, it’s the safest he’s ever felt. with you, he finds a kind of security he’s only ever known with ortho, a sense of belonging in a world that’s always felt too loud, too chaotic, too much. you don’t try to change him or push him out of his comfort zone before he’s ready. instead, you meet him exactly where he is, offering patience and understanding he never thought he deserved.

being with you feels like logging into the ultimate co-op campaign. every challenge becomes less daunting when you’re by his side, every obstacle a little less intimidating. you make things fun in a way he didn’t think was possible—turning the toughest battles into adventures and making him actually want to keep playing, no matter how hard the level gets. it’s the kind of bond he’s spent his whole life wishing for but never thought he could actually have.

what catches him off guard is how much you make him want to change—not because he feels he has to, but because he genuinely wants to. for the first time, he feels like stepping out of his comfort zone might be worth it, even if it means facing things that scare him. being with you gives him a sense of hope, a belief that he can be someone stronger, braver, and better than the person he’s always seen himself as.

for idia, loving you feels like uncovering a hidden level he never expected—something challenging and unpredictable but offering a reward far beyond anything he ever imagined. the world is still overwhelming, but now there’s something in it that makes the struggle worthwhile. with you, he starts to see possibilities he never thought were meant for him, and that alone changes everything.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[hoshifighting]

helloww i wanted to request seventeens reaction to afab!reader having a hard time cumming! like it just takes them a really long time to get there

seungcheol is not here for quickies; he’s in it for the long haul. it’s like he enjoys the challenge of finding that perfect spot that makes you moan just a little louder. “don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs. “we’ve got all the time in the world.” the way he maps out your body with his touch, learning every sensitive inch, almost makes you feel a bit vulnerable. and before you know it, you’re gasping as the orgasm overtakes you, surprised at how quickly he figured you out.

jeonghan spends ages making you sensitive, playing with your nipples, kissing you deeply, brushing his hands like feathers over your pussy. he whispers filthy things in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. by the time he starts really stimulating you, you’re already on the edge, and when you finally cum, it’s like he’s ripped the orgasm right out of you.

joshua is going to prove you wrong. he’s determined to make you cum with his mouth, no matter how long it takes. “it’s not a race,” he chuckles, his voice muffled between your thighs. “just relax.” he’s meticulous, taking his time, exploring every inch of you with his tongue until you’re writhing and moaning, finally giving in. he’s in it for the long game, and he won’t stop until you’re a trembling mess.

junhui has this thing about watching you touch yourself. he’ll sit back and watch, his eyes dark as you try to get yourself off. “show me how you like it,” he asks. and when you finally cum, he’s there, ready to take over and show you just how much better he can make it. it’s almost like a competition, but one where everyone wins.

soonyoung tries different things until something clicks. he’ll switch positions, he turns you this way and that, change angles, and then, almost like an epiphany, he’ll grab a pillow and put it under your hips. “let’s try this,” he says, a determined look in his eyes. and then, it’s like a lightbulb goes off. there it is—the perfect angle that has you cumming, maybe even squirting a little, and he’s just as surprised as you are, but in the best way.

wonwoo is a veteran of teasing. he’ll get you close and then stop, leaving you aching. he works your clit, then stops again just when you’re about to tip over the edge. it’s frustrating, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “not yet,” he’ll whisper. he’s patient, waiting until you’re practically begging, and only then will he finally let you have what you need. the build-up makes the release all the more intense, and he knows it.

woozi loves his gadgets. he’s got a collection of vibrators and toys just for you, and he’s not shy about using them. he likes using a g'spot vibrator while his fingers play with your nipples or, he’ll hold a vibrator against your clit while he fucks you, his cock deep inside you, and it’s like sensory overload. “you like that?” he knows exactly how to push you over the edge, and he’s not stopping until you’re cumming.

minghao would probably suggest something like tantric sex, making you focus on the pleasure without even touching you. “just breathe,” he’ll say. the first time you cum from just the build-up, you’re left staring at him in disbelief, and he just smirks, clearly pleased with himself. sex is mind too.

mingyu reassures you. “it’s okay if it takes a while,” he says, his voice soft as he kisses his way down your body. “i love being down here.” he’s in no rush, taking his time, savoring every moment. he’ll drink in every drop, making you feel like the most important person in the world, no matter how long it takes.

seokmin loves to play with your kinks. if you like choking, he’ll do it just right, feeling your pussy tighten around him. if you like being spanked, he’ll watch you get wetter with each smack. “you like that?” he’ll ask smirking. even if he’s not usually a dirty talker, he’ll do it for you, pushing you over the edge with his words.

seungkwan is all about his hands. he knows you have a thing for them, and he’s more than happy to use them to your advantage. “you’re so wet,” he’ll murmur, his fingers deep inside you, curling just right. he’ll coo at you, sulking/mocking until you’re lightheaded and cumming hard around his fingers.

vernon is patient, just like you. he knows it takes time for both of you, and he’s more than willing to take it slow. “we’re in no rush,” he’s prefers mutual pleasure, whether it’s a slow 69, mutual masturbation or the wildest positions you can think of. it’s a perfect match. both of you working each other until you both cum.

chan is determined to make you cum, almost like it’s a personal challenge. “i can do it,” he’ll mutter. he’ll try everything, experimenting with different techniques until he finds the one that makes you break. and when you finally do, he’s smug but also relieved, holding back a proud grin as you come down from your high.

[merthosus]

Don't kiss the cast members

Summary: You never had a problem with any of the cast members of the umbrella academy, except Aidan. You two couldn't stand each other since the first time you met. You were always good at ignoring him but the directors crashed the plan, by making you the love interest of the character Five Hargreeves. But as the day came you needed to train with him everything changed.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"This.. this wasn't wrote in the script"

Chicago, 9:20 am, you were walking outside the set with a coffee in your hands. It was cold, so the warmth of the cup made your heart flutter with happiness. It was always the smallest things that made you feel pride. You looked down at your chamber red nails while walking through the security guards. You didn't need to show them your ID; they knew you. After two years of being in the show, everyone knew everyone.

You loved attending the set, being surrounded by the most varied people, but today was different. Your stomach hurt, and your hands were slightly shaking. Knowing why your body reacted like that was easy. But your determination and the wish to earn money had driven you to attend the set today. You needed to remind yourself that this was a big part of your job... doing things you didn't want to do. You needed to swallow the pill, and you should be good to go.

Your thoughts went crazy as you said hello to the makeup artist. She was tugging at you here and there, putting little needles in the top you wore. You had been an actor for a few years now, so kissing in front of a camera was not that big of a deal for you, but kissing someone you didn't like was a little bit challenging.

The story of your character was pretty simple—not being that much in the limelight, operating in the shadows of the show. She was the daughter of the Handler, stalking Number Five and looking out for him as the Handler instructed her. The depth of the character was very interesting, so playing her was really an honor, especially because it was the biggest show you had ever been allowed to be on.

"You are ready, you like it?" she asked me. I nodded and smiled. "Thank you, this is very good work, as always," I told her. This was one of your rules: to appreciate the work people do for you, always trying to be nice to everyone. As you stepped out of the container, you saw Aidan walking by. He saw you too and headed in your direction. "Hi, you ready for the rehearsal?" he asked you. To be honest, this was the only thing you liked about him—he was always professional.

"Course, where you want to rehearse?" you asked him. He told you to follow him to Set 36. You knew the set from previous film scenes. Watching the others play was also a pretty big part of your job. You didn't need to, but you liked watching them, learning from their abilities. Robert Sheehan was one of the actors you looked up to; how he acted out his character was astonishing.

As you both walked to the empty set, neither of you even tried to make small talk. Your steps were loud as you walked with him, you read the script again and tried to memorize every little word. The set was very detailed; it was Five's room. You sat down on his bed and continued to read. "You ready?" he asked me. You nodded, laid the script aside, and positioned yourself better on the bed. The scene you needed to play was simple. You get into an argument, and then you kiss him. His part was to reject you and then walk out of the room. That's it—very simple. "Alright," you said while shaking your arms to prepare.

"Go on," you said, and Aidan got into his role. "STOP IT! Stop stalking me, you crazy little shit!" he screamed and walked around the room until he came to a halt at his desk. "I... I am not stalking you!" you yelled. He leaned himself onto the desk behind him. "I saw you following me several times!" he said angrily. Just now, you noticed how his jawline was nearly perfectly shaped—he could cut papers with that thing. You didn't answer him and just stared him down. Suddenly, he jumped away from the table and walked right in front of you.

He looked down at you. This was the moment. "I just... I can't explain," you said your last line. You could feel your heart pounding, like it demanded to get out of your torso. Your hands were shaking as if you had just drunk five espressos and two Red Bulls. "Explain, or I don't want to see you ever again," he whispered. You got up from the bed and stood before him. You felt like it was the first time you ever auditioned. You were as scared of this day as you were then. Without thinking and pushing your anxiety away, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his.

Although you hated him with every muscle in your body, your whole stomach filled with butterflies as your lips landed on his. He tasted bittersweet, like he had just drunk coffee, and a little bit of woodsy cologne made him taste like that too. You waited for him to push you away, like it was written in the script. He was supposed to push you back onto the bed and leave, so you prepared for the fall. But he didn't.

He began to let his puffy lips roam over yours. It felt like you were flying straight to heaven. As you began to stroke his cheek with your thumb, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You let your hand travel around his neck, pushing your fingers into his dark hair. As your fingernails scratched his scalp, he opened his mouth wider, and you let your tongue sneak into his mouth. His lips felt like cushions pressing against yours.

You gasped as he let his hand fall, landing on your butt. But as soon as his lips connected with yours again, you couldn't think anymore. His other hand continued to travel up and down your waist, exploring every inch. He pushed your abdomen further into his, causing your head to tilt back slightly. He noticed and grabbed your neck harshly, pushing your head forward as he continued to let his tongue dance in your mouth, tasting you like ice cream.

You felt every last bit of oxygen leave your body, so you pushed your head away. The sudden feeling of leaving his lips made your whole body shudder with coldness. "This... this wasn't written in the script," you said, stuttering. "Then, unfortunately, we have to do this again," he said with a wide grin on his face. "Asshole."

Thank you for reading my love :) Here leading you to part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/merthosus/759274024052375552/dont-kiss-the-cast-members-summary-you-never?source=share

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 11 - here comes the bride

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language

you couldn't figure out why this stupid fake frat wedding was making you feel things. negative things.

you dragged sarah back to your room after the grilling the girls had given you, all certain you had feelings for rafe.

"so wait, who is rafe even getting fake married to?" you asked her.

sarah grinned. "emily reed, president of zeta delta phi. you already hate her don't you?"

you threw a pillow at her, "for fucks sake sarah let it go!"

she burst into laughter, "i'm joking i'm joking! wait." she paused, "rafe has that jumper. oh my god is that rafe's jumper? when the fuck did you get that?"

you looked down. shit.

you immediately started peeling it off. "no. no! ok, it's not like that i swear. stop. i picked it up when i was leaving his room in a rush to pick up lucas."

"and you're wearing it right now?" sarah could not hide the excitement on her face.

"it's soft. that's all. it's cosy and i like it and that is the only reason. for comfort." you collapsed onto your bed, hiding your face.

"come on y/n you're not fooling anyone." sarah smirked.

"look, it's not like that okay? we just had a moment in the garden the other day at the party. it was quiet, and maybe kinda... nice? and now everything feels... i don't know. weird."

"and now you want to be his frat bride." sarah teased you once again.

"stop!" you groaned into your pillow.

sarah flopped down next to you, voice suddenly gentler. "hey. it’s okay if you like him, you know. even if he is a dick. and my brother."

"i don’t," you said again.

sarah raised an eyebrow.

"i don’t!" you repeated, defensive now.

"well, if you did, i wouldn't be mad. and part of me thinks he likes you too."

your ears perked at that, "really?"

"i don't know, it's rafe." she shrugged like it didn't matter.

you paused. that name alone came with so many contradictions.

yeah. it was rafe.

the same rafe who was cocky and infuriating and said things like "maybe it's a sign" when you kept bumping into each other and called you 'princess' with a stupid half-smirk.

but also the same rafe who sat with you in the garden while the party raged on, letting you hold his hand like it meant something. the same rafe who protected you when you got roofied and looked after you all night.

you bit your lip, sarah staring at you like she was trying to figure you out. "what's going through that pretty head of yours?"

"it's just. he was...nice. the other night i mean. like, weirdly nice. it just doesn't seem like the same guy everyone talks about."

sarah sat up "how weirdly?"

"i mean," you mumbled, "it wasn’t just banter. it felt different. he just sat and we talked and he held my hand and-"

"pause. he held your hand?" her eyes lit up in shock.

"yes but not like that." you spoke quickly

sarah’s jaw dropped. "not like that? y/n, babe, this is rafe we’re talking about. he doesn’t even high-five people unless there’s a crowd watching."

you rolled your eyes but your cheeks were already warm. "it wasn’t romantic. it was just… quiet."

"okay, sure," she said, still clearly unconvinced, "he quietly held your hand in the garden under the stars while you had a vulnerable moment and now you’re wearing his hoodie and getting jealous about a fake wedding. totally platonic."

you sighed, falling back onto your bed. "i hate you."

she laughed, "no you don’t. you hate that i’m right."

you stared up at the ceiling. "it’s just confusing. i didn’t feel like this with lucas. not even close. and now rafe’s getting fake married and i can’t stop thinking about how stupidly annoying that makes me feel."

sarah’s voice softened. "it’s not stupid. you like him. that’s okay."

you didn’t say anything for a moment. then quietly, "do you really think he likes me too?"

she hesitated, not teasing now, "yeah. i think he does. i think he’s just as confused about it as you are."

you nodded slowly, letting her words sink in.

a/n: AHHHHHH i am screaming at this and i wrote it

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub  @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 @whoismxtti @darlingstarkey @mattssweetheart @wuluhwuhmaster @harringtonsbowgirl @my-name-is-baby @rrosiitas @davinashifts333@cinnamqnnlatte @fastlovela @stelleduarte @fastlovela @deeninadream @moond0llie @dylsdaily @nonbeliever1

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.3 | FC43

an: let's go part three! i'm really loving this series, i'm trying to push for 4/5 parts? lmk if there is anything you guys want to see in particular! love you guys <3

part one | part two

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 31,475 others

no excuses

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The low hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic clang of weights filled the resort’s gym, but Franco wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His focus was locked on the woman in the corner, working through her routine with laser-like focus.

She didn’t notice him, which was for the best—he wasn’t ready to deal with her sharp tongue or the way she looked at him like he was the villain in her story. But right now, she was different. She didn’t have her guard up, didn’t look like she was ready to tear him apart with another sarcastic comment. She looked… gorgeous.

It wasn’t just the way her ponytail swung as she moved, or the way her tank top clung to her in all the right places. There was something else, something about the determination in her eyes, the way she focused on each rep like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fierce. Strong. And, damn, if that didn’t make her even more attractive.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool. Franco knew he shouldn’t be watching her like this, but it was hard to look away. Every time he saw her, something pulled him in, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend it was just because she hated him.

He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. The way she challenged him, never letting him get too close, always keeping him on the edge. And yeah, maybe that was part of the thrill. But now, as he stood there, watching her with sweat glistening on her skin, it wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.

He wanted to ask her out.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed under his breath. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn’t stand him. She’d made that clear from the start, and asking her out would probably end in her laughing in his face or worse—publicly roasting him on her Instagram for the world to see.

But still… he couldn’t shake the thought. The way she made his heart race, how every word from her lips felt like a dare. He wanted to take that risk, to see if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind her walls. Something she wasn’t ready to admit.

“Mate, what are you staring at?”

The voice of his friend, Diego, snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Diego walking up beside him, his water bottle in hand and a raised eyebrow on his face.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but it was too late. Diego followed his gaze, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been standing here for a full five minutes staring at her like a lost puppy.”

“Callarse la boca,” (shut up) he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” Diego’s grin widened as he leaned in, lowering his voice. “So, when are you going to ask her out?”

He shot his friend a look. “You’re joking, right? You know how she feels about me. She’d chew me up and spit me out before I even got the words out.”

“Maybe,” Diego admitted, shrugging. “But maybe she wouldn’t. Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been eyeing her for days, and it’s not just because she’s Logan’s best friend and Oscar’s sister. You’re into her.”

“I’m not—”

“Mate, you are.” Diego cut him off, raising his hand. “And here’s the thing: girls like her, the ones that give you a hard time? Half the time, it’s because they’re scared of how much they like you. You know the saying, ‘keep your enemies close’ and all that.”

He shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t deny Diego’s words were getting to him. Maybe that’s why she was always so sharp with him—because she was scared. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.

“Look, you’ll never know unless you try,” Diego continued, nudging him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts you down? You’ve survived worse, need I remind you of your ex?.”

He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes drifting back to her as she moved through her final set. Diego was right—he’d survived worse, and if she shot him down, at least he’d know he tried. And if, somehow, she didn’t… Well, that was a risk worth taking.

“Fine,” Franco said finally, running a hand over his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out.”

Diego grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just be cool, alright? Don’t be the cocky bastard you usually are. You’ve got this.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he took a deep breath and headed toward her, the pounding in his chest wasn’t just from nerves. It was excitement. He was ready for the risk.

francolapinto

liked by williamsracing, carlossainz55, ynpiastri and 984,237 others

keep pushing during the break

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You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as you finished your last set. The gym was quiet this time of night, just the way you liked it. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—fewer chances of running into Franco.

You shook her head, scolding yourself for even thinking about him. Why was he constantly on your mind? Maybe it was because he seemed to pop up everywhere. The pool, the restaurant, and now—you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror—the gym.

Your eyes flicked to the reflection. There he was, leaning against the doorway, watching you. You could feel his gaze, the same infuriating, intense look he always gave you, like he was daring you to react. It was infuriating how much he got under your skin, how he was always there, always pushing.

You turned your back to the mirror, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. It wasn’t nerves, not really. It was more complicated than that—a mix of irritation, confusion, and something you refused to name. You weren't about to let him know he’d gotten to you, not when he was probably waiting for you to snap, just so he could make some smug comment.

But he didn’t leave.

You could feel him still there, watching, and it drove you crazy. You could handle the public stuff—the jabs on social media, the press interviews where he dropped some flirty comment about you, like he was trying to bait you. But this… this was different. He wasn’t playing to an audience here. This was just him, watching you like you were the only person in the room.

Your heart pounded, and you hated it. Hated that he had this effect on you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the dumbbell in your hand. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d leave. But then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer made your grip tighten even more. He wasn’t leaving. Of course he wasn’t.

"Hey," his voice cut through the air, smooth and casual, like he hadn’t been staring at you for who knew how long.

You straightened up, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning around, schooling your face into a mask of indifference. You weren't going to let him see any weakness.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone sharper than youintended.

He hesitated for a second, almost like he wasn’t sure what to say. That was a first. Usually, he had some cocky remarks locked and loaded. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes. A vulnerability that threw you off guard.

“I was just… wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or something,” he said, the confidence in his voice wavering just enough for you to notice.

A drink?

You stared at him, completely blindsided. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. Was he seriously asking you out? After all the snark, all the public back-and-forth?

You should say no. You should laugh in his face, tell him to take his ego and leave you alone. It would be the easiest thing in the world to turn him down.

But the words didn’t come.

Instead, you found herself staring at him, taking in the way his usually cocky demeanour had softened. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t playing some game to get a rise out of you. He was just… asking. And there was something disarming about that.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you hated that, too.

“You’re joking, right?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No joke. Just thought maybe… we could talk. Outside of all this.”

You could tell he was waiting for the rejection. You could practically feel the tension rolling off him as he braced himself for your inevitable shutdown. But for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like fighting. She felt… curious.

Why now? Why you?

You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “You know I can’t stand you, right?”

His lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“And yet you think I’d want to get a drink with you?”

He shrugged, his eyes still holding yours, like he was trying to figure you out. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”

You wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, you found herself biting your lip, considering it. And that was the most frustrating part. Because as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny there was something between them. Something you couldn’t explain, but it had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment you two had met.

You should say no. You should walk away, like you always did.

But instead, you found herself meeting his gaze head-on, searching his face for any sign of the arrogant playboy you’d convinced yourself he was. But all you saw was sincerity. And that was what made you hesitate.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms tighter. “But one wrong word, I’m gone.”

His smile was instant, warm, and more genuine than you’d ever seen. “Deal.”

ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,437 others

alllllcoooolllllhol es muy bueno

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The bar is dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the resort. Normally, you’d appreciate the calm atmosphere, but tonight, you can’t shake the nervous energy running through you. You don’t know why you agreed to this—sitting across from him, sipping drinks as if you aren’t the same person who publicly can’t stand him.

Franco leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same relaxed expression that always makes your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never been surfing?” His voice is casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world.

You shrug, swirling your drink in your hand, trying to act unaffected. “We’re a racing family.”

He grins, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll have to take you sometime. I bet you’d be a natural.”

That teasing tone, the cocky smile—it should annoy you. It does annoy you. But there’s something different tonight. He’s not playing for an audience, not trying to rile you up like usual. It feels… real. And that’s what unnerves you the most.

“You think I’d take surfing lessons from you? You think I’d voluntarily hang out with you again?” you quip, raising an eyebrow, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Absolutely. And you’d love every minute of it.”

You roll your eyes, but even as you do, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. When did this become easy? When did you start enjoying his company?

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to steady yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re supposed to dislike him. He’s supposed to be the cocky new driver who replaced Logan, the guy you roast on social media. So why is your heart racing?

“Are you okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, softer now.

You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the glass in your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, setting it down.

But he’s still looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. And for the first time, you don’t know if you can hide behind your usual sarcasm. He’s seeing through your defences, and that terrifies you.

“Listen,” he says, his voice low, almost gentle, “if this is weird for you, you can leave. No pressure.”

Your heart skips at the way he says your name, like it means something more than just another person in his world. Vulnerability flashes in his eyes, and you hate that it makes you feel something, something you’ve been trying to ignore.

You’re about to make a snappy comeback, to brush it off like always, but instead, you just sit there, staring at him. The space between you feels too small, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

Then a thought came to the front of your mind, was he going to kiss you?

The thought sends a jolt through your system. You should pull back, say something snarky, shut this down before it goes any further. But you don’t move. And neither does he.

The tension is electric now, crackling between you like a live wire. He leans in, just slightly, enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, and you realise—so do you. You’re leaning in, too. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow. You can feel the moment hanging there, fragile, on the edge of something you’re not sure you’re ready for. You’re ready to blame the alcohol but you hadn’t even finished your first drink.

And then, just as the space between you is about to disappear, a voice shatters the moment like a glass breaking.

“Oh my god Franco! Can I get a selfie with you?”

The interruption hits you like a bucket of cold water. You jerk back, blinking as you realise there’s someone standing beside the table—a girl, wide-eyed and holding up her phone, looking at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon.

He glances at her, clearly surprised, but quickly recovers with that easy charm of his. For a second, the connection between you snaps, and the intensity of the moment is gone.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, smiling at the fan. “Just give me a second.”

You lean back in your seat, trying to get a grip on yourself. Your heart is still racing, and you feel the ghost of what almost happened hanging in the air. You hadn’t realised how close you’d come to crossing that line until the moment was interrupted. And now that it’s gone, you don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Maybe. But there’s a part of you—a part you hate to admit—that’s disappointing.

He turns back to you, his face apologetic, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, standing up to take the photo.

You watch as he poses with the fan, your heart still thudding in your chest. The moment between you lingers in the air, but now, with the interruption, it’s slipping away. And you’re not sure if you want it back or if you’re relieved it’s gone.

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imessage between logan and yn

the end.

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