#the more I lose sight of what I’m trying to do

[midnightorchids]

Jason couldn’t help but smile when you entered the shared bathroom. The atmosphere was tense as you angrily ran your hands through your hair and frantically paced around the small, compact room. Curses and insults left your mouth, and he stared at you in awe.

It wasn’t often that you had an attitude, Jason never realized how attractive it was before.

He was sitting on the counter near the sink, shirtless, in an almost relaxed manner. The scars on his skin were highlighted under the pale yellow light of the bathroom and you could tell he was trying to hide a smirk. The sheer audacity made you livid. This was the second time this week that he came home bloodied and bruised. Only God knew how many times this exact situation had occurred this month.

You weren’t sure what it was that he was doing or what sort of trouble he had gotten himself into, you were just glad he made it home to you every night. The thought of losing Jason kept you awake in the late hours of the evening, his scars often haunted your dreams, but the fear, however, didn’t stop you from getting angry.

Most days, you wanted to leave him in the bathroom, make him clean the bloodied mess himself, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t just leave him alone, you had to be there for him. Your mind and body didn’t always agree when Jason was involved, your body regularly acted on its own accord.

And like every other day, you found yourself grabbing the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, preparing to cleanse his wounds. You eyed his naked chest before silently reaching over to dampen a cotton pad with alcohol. Your frustration still lingered, Jason could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He stared at you intently, his eyes raked up and down your annoyed figure. He cupped your free hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting you get back to work.

When the cool liquid touched his torn lip, he let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He clutched your hand tighter and pretended to flinch when you went back for a second time. He was being dramatic. He wanted the sympathy and craved the attention, and noticing the lack of reaction made him a little upset.

His hands reached down to your waist, he pulled you in between his legs and gave your skin a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to clean his mouth. “You’re an idiot, Jay, what are we gonna do about that tooth now,” he grinned in response, showing off the broken tooth. The sight made you want to giggle. He looked stupid, but adorable.

Your body, once again, reacted without thinking and your hands moved to caress his bruised jaw. He needed to shave, his stubble scratched and tickled your skin. His larger hand cupped your own and he placed a quick kiss on the inside of your palm, genuinely flinching this time. It pulled at your heartstrings.

“I’m so sorry,” he said once more, sincerely. You stared into his tired eyes and smiled, silently praying that this was the last time you ever had to clean his wounded skin.

“I forgive you, Jay.”

[its-avalon-08]

im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Shattered Pieces (logan)

Summary: Logan leaves you broken and shattered

WC: 740ish

Warnings: ansgt

Read on Ao3!

-

The rain poured down relentlessly, the sky shrouded in thick, dark clouds. You stood under the small awning of a cabin you and Logan had shared for the past few months. It was a quiet refuge, a world away from the chaos of the X-Men and everything else. But peace was something fleeting, especially with Logan.

You watched the storm roll in, matching the turmoil inside you. The tension between you and Logan had been building for days, ever since you’d heard rumors of the new mission that required his attention. His silence had been suffocating, and the weight of the impending goodbye hung heavily in the air.

“I didn’t want to tell you like this,” Logan’s gruff voice cut through the sound of the rain. His posture was stiff, like he was bracing himself for the inevitable.

You turned to face him, heart sinking at the sight of his clenched fists and the pained look in his eyes. "When were you going to tell me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though the ache in your chest threatened to break it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his damp hair. “But I’m leaving soon.”

Of course, he was. You weren’t stupid—this was how it always went with Logan. He had demons, and every time things got too close, he pulled away, chasing a fight, a war, anything to escape the connection that terrified him.

“Logan, I can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, stepping closer, though the distance between you felt more like miles than inches. "Every time it feels like we’re getting somewhere, like you're letting me in, you just… leave. You shut me out."

His jaw clenched, eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn't fully place. “It’s not that simple. You know what I am. I’m not—” He stopped, voice wavering, almost like he was trying to hold back something, maybe even himself.

“I know exactly what you are,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “But I also know that you’re the only one who understands me. You’re my missing puzzle piece, Logan. Every time you leave, it’s like a part of me goes missing with you.”

The rawness in your voice cracked something in him, but instead of drawing closer, Logan took a step back, shaking his head. His eyes were burning with a mix of regret and anger. “I’ll only hurt you, you don’t get it. I can’t—I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re not a monster, Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper now, pleading. “Stop trying to convince me that you don’t care because I know you do.”

Logan let out a bitter laugh, filled with self-loathing. "I can’t give you what you want, what you need. You deserve someone better. Someone who won’t disappear in the middle of the night and come back bloodied with a trail of bodies behind him."

“That’s not for you to decide,” you snapped, tears finally breaking free as you fought to keep your voice steady. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of losing you.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “You already have.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from your lungs. Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You could see it in his eyes—he had already made his choice.

“You’re just going to leave, then?” Your voice broke, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded. “After everything?”

Logan turned back to face you, his expression a mix of guilt and pain. “I’m doing this for you.”

“No, Logan,” you said, your voice low and filled with sorrow. “You’re doing this for yourself. Because you’re scared.”

He didn’t deny it. His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the man underneath all the anger and regret. The man who, despite his attempts to push you away, had let you in, piece by piece.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough, as if the words themselves were too hard to say.

Without another word, Logan turned and walked out into the storm. You stood there, watching him disappear into the rain, knowing that this time, he might not come back.

The sound of the rain echoed in the emptiness he left behind, and you hugged yourself, trying to keep warm. But no amount of warmth could fill the hole he’d just left in your heart.

Because Logan Howlett was your missing puzzle piece.

And now, you were incomplete.

-

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

LOGAN/WOLVERINE:  @winterslove1917

[alpydk]

Communication

It's that time of year again when I am unexpectedly hit with a smutty idea. Seriously, I've been pretty antismut recently and was almost accepting it wouldn't come back. So... here we go. (Also I wanted an excuse to use this gif even if it doesn't match anything in the plot.)

Tav and Gale are happily married... sort of. Tav takes matters into her own hands.

Word Count - 3571 - C/W - Smut, Gale needs a suck hug

A year they had been married, one of blissful exploration of the senses, days lying on picnic blankets with wine and poetry, nights with gentle prayers on flushed lips. Gale had learnt her body as if it were the Weave itself, the way the curves dipped and rose like the valleys beyond the coastal mountains, the way she would whine when his tongue flicked upon sensitive flesh. He played her delicately, the sweetest symphony of harp strings at his fingertips. 

Whispers of love and devotion filled the air as he lay with her, worshiping her body, giving sacrifice after sacrifice. His goddess. His Tav. She was his world; she was the stars and moon; she was magic. And he swore he would make her complete in every way he could.

A short giggle could be heard from the library, the kind given when eyes met a longed for but unbefitting sight: the lustful suck of a finger, a bead of sweat rolling down a firm abdomen. Her cheeks blushed like that of the ripest apple. Tav lowered the letter she’d received, the words leaving her heart beating rapidly and mind on a trail of adventure. As Gale entered the room, she quickly hid it behind her back, the smirk however remaining against her will.

“A beautiful smile on a beautiful morning,” he commented, choosing to ignore the sheet of paper she clenched in her hand.

This hadn’t been the first letter in the past tenday that she had hidden from him, her eyes bright and mood giddy. He’d seen the penmanship, the curved AA that lay at the bottom with the red rose wax seal. He had tried to approach her on the matter, only for her to dismiss his concerns. Rather than open the discussion further, to outright ask her what the letters were about, he instead tried to do better by her. He put himself more into complementing her, into cooking and cleaning. He used his practiced tongue in the way he knew best and hoped that it would be enough to keep her sated.

The broad grin she held wavered, her eyes dimming a little as the words of the letter thankfully secluded themselves in the deepest part of her mind. “I’m to take a trip. I received the letter but a moment ago.”

“A trip?”

She had not spoken of anything of the sort recently, but then secrets were becoming more common with each passing day. The letters, the odd sending spell he detected as he watched her from the balcony. Words he never heard; words not meant for him to know. He stepped towards her, trying to push down the budding anxiety in his chest. He was losing her, and a trip would merely be the apparition fading into the unknown.

“You never mentioned…” His voice trailed off, hoping she would explain further, hoping he wouldn’t have to piece everything together and find a conclusion that would strike him painfully down to the core.

She kept the letter clutched behind her, feeling the coarse creases of the paper in her grasp. His worry was evident. It had been each night she had slid out of the bed away from his embrace, as she had smiled without happiness at his conjured stars, as she felt the brush of his lips upon hers but not felt the passionate fires of their first nights together.

“I didn’t think it was going to happen. It’s only a few days in Baldur’s Gate on behalf of the library there.” She knew the lie wasn’t the best, but anything like sick relatives or another serious matter would have resulted in Gale wanting to attend with her. “I’ll be staying at the boarding house at Wyrm’s Crossing. You remember the one, don’t you?”

“Not exactly the safest or most extravagant of establishments, my dear. I could always come with you, and we could stay at the Elfsong.”

She was quick to cut off the idea. “Oh no, you can’t. You have that seminar.” Tav had already taken all the dates into account. How Gale couldn’t get out of the conference on Netherese lore and fable and would be forced to stay in Waterdeep. “Besides, it will be an adventure of sorts for me. Just like old times.”

That was what concerned him most. She would find someone else if she hadn’t already and that would be it between them. Searching for solutions, he was met with nothing. Days passed, the trip nearing, and he found that each question he had was met with an already summoned answer, all ideas met with criticisms. She had planned this journey far in advance and she was leaving, whether he liked it or not.

“Tav, my love. You know I do not wish to smother you, nor stifle your free-spirited personality, but I cannot help but be concerned that something is amiss.” He took her hand in his, desperately searching her eyes for the truth, for the love he had once known from her.

All Tav could do was place her lips to his, ignore the burning in her closed eyes of the tears which threatened everything. She hated how she was hurting him, but this was for the best. If he was to be happy, to be complete, she had to leave. “I love you.”

He didn’t know if he believed the words she whispered, if her kiss was anything but a cruel substitute prize to soften the abandonment. She said she would come back, and Gale clung to that thread as if it were his last lifeline, a magical artefact to quell the destructive orb within. “And I love you.”

---

The tower felt cold and empty without her there. It would be a tenday travel to Baldur’s Gate, then however long she stayed there, then a further tenday back providing no issues occurred with the transport. She claimed it was the quickest she could do, the spells too expensive for teleportation, that the route was nice to travel this time of year, and again he had accepted her words. He knew more time away gave her more distance to cover before he would accept the truth, but he was too blinded by love, too desperate to be loved, that he accepted it all and clung onto hope.

Spending his days throwing himself into his research and teaching, he hoped it would help the time pass quicker. The AA on the letter bothered him more than it should have, the image of red rose petals she would no doubt be lying amongst distracting him from his tasks. Gale knew Tav’s past with the pale-skinned elf, someone he considered a friend, and he also knew that despite his own physical skills, he did not have two hundred years of experience to fall back on. Making love to a goddess was not the same as worshipping a mortal, and it was there he would always fall short if compared.

The route home was dismal as the rain came thundering down late in the evening. Tav had been gone for two tenday and Gale was slowly finding the routine of loneliness once again. There had been no contact since she’d left, no replies to his sending spells, no letters to know she had arrived safety. The library of Waterdeep had no confirmation of any trip, only that she had scheduled days away with an open return date. It had been that result which had confirmed everything to him, and he had prepared to move on, no matter how much it hurt.

He opened the door to the tower, his cloak drenched and knees aching from the icy winds that blew. Finding a light glimmering down the stairwell from the upper floor, he felt his heart rate increase, an igniting of the buried ember of hope he’d tried to bury.

“Darling, a little deeper… How does that feel?”

Gale heard the familiar purr and with it the soft whine of Tav, one he’d learnt himself by heart.

“Oh… again, right there…” she whimpered. “Astarion, you’re so good at this.”

Gale chucked off the sodden cloak and ran up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his legs. Wet footprints lined the stone steps, a trail of the storm left in his wake. Anger burnt deeply inside him, that they would have the nerve to return to his home and partake in such intimate activities, that she would hate him so much that she would hurt him in such a way. To abandon him without a word was something he could unfortunately handle, experience no difference between goddess or mortal, but to have the relationship trampled on, to so ashamedly flaunt someone else in his face, was simply cruel.  

He pushed open the heavy oak door to the bedroom; the laden fireplace flickering, creating dancing shadows on the walls of books and paintings. Ruffled navy-blue bedsheets lay exactly how he had left them in the morning, not twisted with the sight of two lovers in the throes of passion. What he had expected to see naked and entwined instead sat fully clothed on the sofa, both staring at him with a mixture of embarrassment and humour on their faces. Wine glasses lay on the wooden table before them, various books opened to random pages, abandoned with the night’s discussions.

Tav grinned, removing Astarion’s cool hand from her shoulder as she went to get up. “You’re late,” she joked, standing and approaching Gale. The confusion merged with anger was evident on his face, but she hoped it would pass quickly now she had returned.

“And you’re back…”

She stood within arm’s reach of Gale, wanting to lift her hand and touch the soaked white shirt and dripping chestnut hair, but not knowing if it would be the right thing to do. Neither knew what to say, how to start the inevitable discussion of her previous whereabouts.

Astarion broke the awkward silence, rising from his seat, and sipping the last of his glass of red wine before him. “I’ll take that as my cue.” He sauntered over to Tav, placing a soft but goading kiss upon her cheek. “Enjoy your night lovebirds, and if you need me, don’t be afraid to send one of your little spells.” He chuckled to himself, seeing the way Gale’s jaw tightened. “Oh, don’t worry, love. She’s all yours.”

The slamming of the door to the tower left Gale and Tav in a heavy silence. He was hurt, ready to fight, but he wanted to take his time first, draw the truth from her until she was begging for his forgiveness. “Astarion looked well,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

She sighed, bringing her soft palm to Gale’s dampened face, feeling the moisture cool her hand. Ignoring the tension was impossible and so she wanted to diffuse the hate fuelled situation as quickly as she could. “He is… Look, what you saw-”

His mood was quick to falter, too many lonely nights spilling over against his will. “What I saw was someone who I believed was my best friend cavorting with my wife,” he interrupted, twisting away from her touch as if it were a weapon ready to cut. He didn’t want to hear her excuses, her snake tongued deceit, not whilst the image of her body being touched burnt so fresh in his mind.

“Gale, just-”

“No, don’t Gale me,” he spat. “You left. Without any word or explanation, you left.” He wanted to compose himself, to approach this rationally as he did all things, but he couldn’t accept what had happened, and he certainly couldn’t accept any more lies. “I would allow it if you no longer wished to be wed, but these things should be discussed first. Instead, you lied to me, claiming you were on some trip because you lacked the common decency to say you did not love me.”

“I do love you!”

“No.” A flicker of doubt lulled in his voice, a worry that maybe he had been mistaken all along, that his history with Mystra still wormed its way in his skull and he had acted on trauma rather than truth. “I am not some fool you can toy with, Tav. I saw the letters. I know about the spells. How long has it been going on for?”

She looked at him perplexed, trying to work out where his mind had been going the last few weeks. “How long has what been going on?”

Gale scoffed at her ridiculous question, feeling insulted by her continued acting. He paced the room, his boots leaving their dampened marks on the floorboards. “Oh, don’t play dumb with me. The affair!”

Without realising, she let out a laugh, her shoulders relaxing as she finally understood why he was so wound up. “It’s not like that at all. Me and Astarion are friends, you know that.”

The doubt snowballed quickly. They’d been fully clothed, but maybe he had arrived too early rather than late as they claimed. Maybe the journey to Baldur’s Gate had been innocent, but then why had she not contacted him? He stopped his movements and turned to her, taking in her soft smile, the warmth in her eyes he’d memorised on long nights of desire. “Then what is it like? Because right now, all I hear is conjecture.”

Tav took a seat on the sofa, patting to the place next to her closest to the fire. “He was teaching me some massage techniques.”

“And the letters? The trip?” Gale didn’t want to take her offer close to her, afraid that it might lure him in to a false sense of security. He was torn between believing her as he always had done and pulling away to save himself from further harm.

“Was meant to be a surprise for you, which is why I didn’t contact you. Come, sit down and I’ll explain,” she replied, her tone calming. She waited for him to be next to her, gently placing her hands on the ties of his shirt to remove it. “You’re soaked.”

“And you’re avoiding the subject…”

The loose cotton shirt came off and was thrown aside, the warmth of the fireplace hitting his flesh welcomely. She traced her finger up the centre of his chest, seeing as small, deserted raindrops collected on her nail. “Astarion has been helping me. I wrote to him asking for advice.”

Gale sighed at her touch, his body reacting despite his emotions. Usually he took charge, led the dance, orchestrated the symphony, but he was tired, longing for her touch after so many nights apart. “It went amiss to discuss matters with your husband?”

“It was advice regarding my husband.”

Heated kisses were placed on the cool skin of his neck. He leant back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under her lips, a path of love and devotion being marked upon his body. “And what is so problematic about me that you must hide it?” He gasped as he felt the flick of her tongue against his nipple, a technique she had never used before, but one he found himself responded to strongly.

A devious playfulness filled her eyes at his reaction, observing the way he relaxed into her touch, the way his head hung back and his wet hair fell behind him, allowing droplets to descend to the floor without obstruction. “I want to make you happy.”

The words caught him off guard and he glanced up, seeing the way she gazed up at him, her tongue travelling lazily up to the middle of his chest, collecting the moisture. He took a deep breath with the sight, resisting taking control, trying to remain grounded to hear the truth. “You do make me happy.”

Her tongue reached his other nipple, a quick flick causing his head to fall back with the pleasure yet again. The quickening of his breathing provoked her to do it again, the writhe of his body with the stimulus too much to stay still. She’d always suspected he would be sensitive in such areas, but never understood what it would take to get such neediness from him. Not until now. “Not in the same way you do me.”

She pulled herself back, satisfied with the state he was in. “Me and Astarion took a trip to Sharess’ Caress,” she continued, shrugging off the black fabric of her own clothes from her shoulders, her bare breasts visible in the dim light of the fireplace. “He showed me how I could complete you in the same way you do me.”

Gale responded to the words by sharply sitting up with a confused but offended look on his face. “You spent the night with him?”

Shaking her head with a subtle smile, she placed a palm on his chest, pushing him gently to lie back down. “No. Just like you did so many moons ago, I simply watched.” Her fingertips trailed down the centre of his stomach as he reclined back and as they reached the hem of his trousers, she continued speaking, seeing as he calmed if a little unsure of her actions. “He spent the night pleasuring the young Drow there, demonstrating to me the various areas of which he was skilled.”

Tav’s hand slipped into Gale’s trousers, and he let out a held breath. Her touch was featherlight, not the inexperienced gasping he’d once tried to talk her through. Now it was a light stroking, a twist around the shaft that made him want to jolt further into her palm. Just as he would get used to the rhythm and feel the precipice approaching, she would change gears, her grip becoming firmer, the pace quickened. 

“You see, too many nights have you have made me see stars,” she purred, watching as his hand clutched the shadow touched fabric of the chair, the way he bit his lower lip at the sight of her naked breasts. “And I know you’d be okay to continue doing that. But I wanted to be more, to give you more. You deserve more.”

He felt as her other hand pulled at his trousers, forcing him to lift his hips so they could be removed. He quickly brought his arm up, taking her breast in his hand and bringing his mouth towards to the hardened pink flesh. Before he could suck on it deeply, she pressed him back yet again.

“Ah ah. Not tonight.”

Gale kept his hand firm on her chest, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin. He wanted to continue playing, wanted to do as he always did and devote himself fully to her, but curiosity got the better of him. What had she learnt from her little adventure to the Keep? It was as he let go on his control, feeling the warm pressure of her mouth around his cock, that he knew.

Gone was the innocent woman he had married, and now before him was a mistress of seduction. Her soft moans as he attempted not to buck upwards filled his senses. She pulled away for a second, soft kisses placed down his shaft, leaving him breathless and needy, her hand taking over with the slight twist at the head.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long to you. You feel so good,” she whispered between the soft placement of her lips.

He could feel himself getting closer, the sway of her breasts no longer in view as he leant back, closing his eyes and panting into each carefully executed movement upon him. The pressure built with the firm wrapping of her lips around his length, her tongue pressed to the underside, forcing him to the back of her mouth. He wanted to rut into her, wanted to lift her and fuck her in front of the fireplace, but with each moan she gave, each pulse of his cock within her, he lost himself further.

He opened his eyes, wordlessly longing for her to remove the rest of her clothing, to lay herself upon him so he could give to her, just as he had so many times before. The gentle rise and fall of her head, her darkened eyes pinned on him, were almost too much and he released a groan of need.

As her soft hand grasped the base of his cock, joining the dance, he knew he was perilously close to his edge. “Tav… I…” Her pressure changed. Words were gone, thoughts were gone. There were only white-hot stars that filled his vision as his release hit, her tongue lapping up his seed whilst still massaging the sensitive flesh it held. He jolted into her, the pleasure continuing without remorse, his nerves on fire as she slowed her pace to extend the ecstasy as long as she could. He may have once had the practiced tongue, but on that night Gale, usually so verbose, was left with only the energy to give a quiet whimper of contentment.

Tav licked and rolled her lips as she sat back, observing what had become of her husband, his skin now moistened with sweat rather than rain, his tongue tied rather than its normal loosened state. Touching his body was met with a shiver, which caused a smug satisfaction to rise on her cheeks.

“Hm. If that’s what happens on just the first night, I wonder what will happen with a thousand more.”

[pdriesta]

a lifetime of us — 3

an —a series of blurbs from past or present, following the main couple from “a lapse of us". this chapter contains smut (minors dni)

with 24 hours left in his hometown, pedri couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it than in between your legs.

he listened to your sounds, the pleasure bouncing off the walls of your room, his face dampened not just from his own arousal but from the heat emanating from your skin. you gripped his hair tightly, trying to keep your legs apart — failing miserably each time you tightened your grip around his head.

pedri ate like you were his last meal, and to him, you were. he knew his schedule would be packed once he touched down in barcelona tomorrow, but right now, nothing mattered more than you.

you felt the usual flood of pleasure rake through your body, but that didn’t stop pedri. after coming down from your high, he kissed you passionately, prepared to hold you for as long as he could before your parents came and insisted on spending time with him.

“that was —,” you breathed out, slumping your sweaty body on top of his. “unreal. how do you get better every time?” you asked seriously.

pedri chuckled, “isn’t it obvious? you’re my favorite topic to study, all the ways i can take care of my girl.”

your face was already flushed after the 30 minutes pedri spent between your legs. however, you felt your body heat up even more at his words.

“pedri,” you groaned, feeling his lips and his body rock against yours, clothed in what he usually slept in when he stayed over.

“sí, mi vida,” (yes, my life) he replied absentmindedly, peppering kisses along your collarbone. unlike him, whose shirt had been discarded as soon as your lips met, yours remained on.

contrary to your mom’s constant nagging about pregnancies and birth control, you and pedri had never taken that step. after growing so much together over the years and entering adulthood side by side, you always assumed waiting was your best bet.

you never imagined the thoughts and worries that flooded your mind now that the boy you loved would be away for the majority of the year after moving to barcelona. he promised to come back during the summer and any international breaks, but knowing how amazing he was, you had a sneaking suspicion it would be hard to align schedules.

today, however, with pedri on top of you, tenderly kissing your body, you knew in your heart what you needed.

“pedri,” you said again, threading your hands in his hair and tugging the strands the way he liked to meet his brown eyes with yours.

“mi vida,” (my life) he said back, staring at your swollen lips, feeling proud of his handiwork before pecking your lips.

suddenly, you sat up, and he moved to sit on his feet on your bed. without saying anything, and keeping your eyes fixed on his, you removed your shirt.

watching as you tossed it over the bed, pedri was confused, to say the least.

“what’s wrong, baby? are you too hot? i can adjust the thermostat,” he offered.

“no!” you quickly replied, not wanting him to leave in his shirtless glory. your body shivered at the sight of the slick layer of sweat on his skin. he had changed and grown so much into the man in front of you, and you were in awe, feeling a bit embarrassed now that you sat in front of him in just a bra.

“no, it’s not the temperature,” you finally said, “i’m ready.”

pedri’s mind went blank. after being together for so long, he knew what those words entailed, but he just couldn’t believe it.

“r-ready?” he repeated your words, not wanting to assume. you shyly nodded in response, dropping your eyes to your duvet-covered lap.

“sí, mi corazón. quiero tener sexo. quiero que nos quitemos la virginidad mutuamente,” (yes, my heart. I want to have sex. I want us to lose our virginity to each other) you finally spoke up. you didn’t want to lose your nerve; this was your best friend. he knew you like the back of his hand. you were the love of his life, and the only future he was certain of was the one with you.

however, in this moment, he wasn’t so sure. sure, there had been times where you both almost took the next step, but something always got in the way — whether it meant annoying siblings or demanding schedules, the stars never aligned until now.

“are you sure, mi amor?” (my love) he reached for your trembling hands in your lap. you wordlessly nodded but didn’t meet his eyes, and that’s how he knew you weren’t okay.

“y/n, baby, talk to me. what is this really about?” he moved from his spot in front of you to beside you, his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his arms. he used his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers, making you meet his eyes.

“nothing. i just want you,” you said barely above a whisper. “i want to be close to you. i want all of you, even if this is the last time,” your voice broke at the last words.

pedri felt like he was doused with a bucket of ice water at the realization. she thinks i’ll leave her behind.

“hey, hey,” he soothed, pulling you completely onto his lap. “mi niña bonita,” (my pretty girl) he cupped the side of your face, swiping your tears away. he looked at you with so much love in his eyes that you felt even more choked up.

“do you know why i call you mi vida? it’s the perfect term for you to understand that you’re my entire world. everything i do is for you. even when it isn’t about you, it’s for you. i’ve loved you since the very first day i saw you fall onto our football pitch. i’ve loved you through everything, and i will love you through this. this is your dream as much as it’s mine.”

“te amo también, mi corazón,” (I love you too, my heart) you sniffed while wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his neck. “i can’t help but think, though, you’ll find someone better, more experienced, and toss me away. you know how many women will flock to you. i don’t want you to leave and me not give you what was always yours,” you confessed.

“that’s what this is about?” he realized. “y/n, there is no one else on this planet meant for me but you. it’s never about experience because guess what? you’re my first everything. there’s no one else in the world i would ever want to be with intimately,” he ran his hands over your back.

even though pedri was shy himself, it being his first time too, he wanted to reassure you.

“are you sure? we don’t have to rush this. i’ll be back sooner than you know it,” he asked you once again.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring his body to yours. he braced himself on his elbows beside your head, making sure he didn’t crush you.

“i am sure, pedri. i want everything with you,” you said back.

this was enough for pedri to crash his lips onto yours like a madman. you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

finally, amidst the haze and the fog of arousal, pedri pulled back. “espera, amor,” (wait, love) he breathed out, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.

“i don’t have anything, you know?” he gestured to where you ground on him through his briefs. you smiled at how shy your boyfriend was, even after all the dirty things he’d done to you.

“we don’t need any,” you replied, before registering your boyfriend’s shock.

“y/n, we can’t! i don’t want to get you pregnant. your family will kill me. hell, my family will kill me,” he quickly pulled back.

“no, no, baby,” you quickly sat up, following his movements, holding back a laugh. “you know how my mom is. she’s all about contraception and preventing accidental pregnancies. she took me to get birth control months ago. i’m safe. we’re safe,” you blushed, still feeling shy at the idea of your mom’s face while she encouraged contraception with your boyfriend.

pedri was beyond shocked now. he knew you weren’t a spontaneous person. you always thought about a million and one possible outcomes before making decisions. knowing you endured your mom’s goading to prepare for this moment was enough reassurance he needed.

“eres perfecta,” (you’re perfect) pedri murmured, meeting your lips once again, falling into you once more.

“mi vida,” (my life) he said while lining up. “esto va a doler.” (this is going to hurt.) he remembered how much you had to adjust to his mere fingers. he was shaking with fear at what might happen and all the ways he might hurt you.

“lo sé,” (I know) you nodded. “confío en ti con todo,” (I trust you with everything) you caressed his head before guiding him forward.

finally buried in you, he felt the tightness and restriction and shuddered. he looked at you, seeing the crease between your eyebrows and the pain on your face.

“mi vida,” (my life) pedri managed to let out.

“me duele,” (it hurts) you choked out, tears spilling from your eyes. if the enveloping warmth didn’t feel as good as it did, pedri would’ve pulled out right then and there, not wanting to hurt you. but after feeling you like this, there was no going back.

“lo sé, mi vida, lo sé,” (I know, my life, I know) he said, kissing your tear-streaked face. “¿qué puedo hacer para mejorar esto?” (What can I do to make this better?) he asked, desperate to ease your discomfort.

you shook your head, gripping his shoulders tightly. “solo quédate conmigo,” (just stay with me) you whispered, your voice trembling. the pain was intense, but you knew it would pass, and the idea of stopping now, of not sharing this moment with him, was unbearable.

“estoy aquí,” (I’m here) pedri murmured, brushing his lips over your forehead. he held still, giving you time to adjust, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he wanted to take the pain away, to make this perfect for you, but all he could do was be there, holding you through it.

slowly, the pain began to subside, replaced by a dull ache that was easier to bear. you shifted slightly, and pedri took it as a sign to move, beginning to rock gently into you.

“está mejor ahora?” (Is it better now?) he asked, his voice full of concern as he watched your expression.

“sí, mejor,” yYes, better) you breathed out, a small smile tugging at your lips. the discomfort was still there, but so was something else—something deeper, more intimate, a connection that went beyond the physical.

pedri kissed you softly, his movements tender and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. he murmured sweet nothings against your lips, his love for you evident in every word, every touch.

“te amo,” (I love you) he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“te amo, pedri,” (I love you, Pedri) you replied, your heart swelling with love for the boy who was now your first in every way.

the pain continued to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your body, making your toes curl and your breath hitch. pedri noticed, his movements becoming slightly more confident, though he was still careful, still gentle.

“you’re so beautiful, mi vida,” he said, his voice strained as he tried to hold himself back, not wanting to rush this moment, not wanting to lose control.

you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, pulling him down for a kiss. it was messy, full of heat and desperation, and pedri groaned into your mouth, finally giving in, his hips moving more urgently now.

the discomfort was almost entirely gone, replaced by pleasure that built steadily, making you gasp and cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

“pedri,” you whimpered, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

pedri’s breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as he moved inside you with slow, deliberate strokes. every thrust was measured, as if he was trying to commit every moment to memory. it wasn’t just about the pleasure; it was about the love he poured into each motion, the way his hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “i love you more than anything, más que todo, mi vida. you’re everything to me. please, don’t ever forget that.”

your heart clenched at the intensity in his voice, and tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain—they were from the overwhelming love you felt for him. “i won’t, pedri,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with emotion. “i love you too. so much. i don’t want you to go.”

he paused, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled to catch his breath. “i don’t want to go either,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “but i promise you, y/n, i’ll come back to you. siempre voy a volver, okay? nothing will keep me away from you.”

you nodded, swallowing hard to keep from crying. “i know, pedri. i know you will. just… don’t forget about me, okay?”

his eyes softened as he looked at you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “never, mi amor,” he vowed, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re the only thing on my mind. siempre estás en mi mente y en mi corazón. you’re my world, y/n. no one could ever take your place.”

as he spoke, he began to move again, slow and gentle, his hands gripping your waist as if he was afraid you’d slip away. each thrust was filled with love, with a desperation that mirrored your own. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him, to hold him as close as possible.

“pedri,” you breathed out, your voice hitching with emotion. “te necesito. i need you, now more than ever. i want you to remember this moment, every single detail, so you know that i’m always yours.”

“i’m yours too, y/n,” he whispered back, his voice trembling as he kissed you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that made your heart ache. “completamente tuyo, siempre. nothing will ever change that.”

you moaned softly against his lips, the sound muffled as he kissed you harder, pouring every ounce of love he had into it. the rhythm of his movements quickened, but he was still careful, still trying to ensure your comfort above all else. the pleasure built between you, a slow burn that intensified with each passing second, until you felt like you were on the edge of something beautiful, something that would forever bind you to him.

“mi vida, i can’t—” he gasped, his voice raw with emotion. “i’m close, so close. i need to feel you with me. por favor, mi amor, come with me.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, unable to speak as the pleasure reached its peak. your hands tightened in his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as you felt yourself unraveling beneath him.

“pedri,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you teetered on the edge. “te amo. te amo tanto.”

that was all it took. with a low groan, pedri buried his face in your neck, his body trembling as he came, his release triggering yours. you clung to him, your body arching into his as the pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, both too overwhelmed by the intensity of what you had just shared. pedri’s breathing was ragged against your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid to let go.

“don’t let me go, pedri,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “please, don’t let me go.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. “never, mi vida. i’m never letting you go,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “no matter where i am, you’ll always be with me. en mi corazón, siempre.”

you buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and for the first time, you truly believed him. you knew that no matter the distance, no matter the time apart, he would always come back to you.

“i’ll wait for you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but you knew he heard you. “i’ll always wait for you, pedri.”

he held you tighter, his lips brushing against your hair as he whispered, “and i’ll always come back to you, y/n. always. you’re my home.”

and as the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just you and pedri, in a moment of pure love and connection, a bond that no amount of time or distance could ever break.

you knew that tomorrow would come, and with it, the challenges of a long-distance relationship. but for now, in this quiet, stolen moment, you had everything you needed. you had pedri, and that was more than enough.

the airport was filled with the usual chaos—announcements echoing, people rushing by with luggage, and the occasional laughter from a distant group. but for you, the world had narrowed down to just one thing: saying goodbye to pedri. he was moving to barcelona to pursue his dreams, and while you were beyond proud of him, the thought of being apart was like a dull ache in your chest.

your families were there, gathered around in a small, tight-knit circle. pedri’s mom hugged him first, her eyes glistening with tears that she tried to blink away. “cuídate, mi niño,” she whispered, holding him close for a few seconds longer than usual. his dad gave him a firm, reassuring pat on the back, followed by fer, who pulled him into a brotherly embrace.

your mom was next, wrapping her arms around pedri like he was one of her own. “we’re all so proud of you,” she said, her voice warm but edged with the same sadness you felt. your dad followed, giving pedri a quick hug and a nod that conveyed more than words ever could.

caro was last, and as usual, she couldn’t resist teasing him, even in a moment like this. “now, you better watch out for those girls in barcelona,” she said, trying to keep it light but her tone carried a hint of protectiveness. “don’t let them distract you from your girl at home and your goals, okay?”

pedri chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i promise, caro,” he replied, squeezing her hand before letting go.

rafael, still young enough to not fully grasp the gravity of the situation, gave pedri a quick hug and an innocent smile. “you’ll be back soon, right?”

“sooner than you think,” pedri assured him, ruffling his hair.

finally, it was your turn. but instead of stepping forward, you found yourself rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on the floor. your heart was pounding, each beat echoing with the reality that this was it—he was leaving.

pedri noticed your hesitation, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “mi amor,” he called softly, his voice filled with an understanding that made your heart ache even more. “mírame, por favor.”

slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his, finding the strength in his gaze that you desperately needed. he took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. “ven aquí,” (come here)he murmured, holding out his hand to you.

you hesitated for a moment, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe, let alone move. but the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made it impossible to resist. you stepped forward, slipping your hand into his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

“it’s going to be okay,” pedri whispered, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his. “we’ll make this work, no matter what. i promise.”

“i know,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “i just… i’m going to miss you so much.”

he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “i’m going to miss you too, more than you know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “but this isn’t goodbye, okay? it’s just ‘see you later.’”

you nodded, trying to hold onto his words like a lifeline. but the reality of him leaving, of not having him by your side every day, was overwhelming. “pedri… what if—”

“shh,” he interrupted gently, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “don’t think about the ‘what ifs.’ we’ve got this. i’ll call you every day, text you all the time—you’ll probably get sick of me.”

a small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you finally allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, holding on as tightly as you could. “never,” you whispered, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “i could never get sick of you.”

he held you just as tightly, his hands stroking your back in soothing circles. for a moment, the noise of the airport faded away, leaving just the two of you in a quiet, bittersweet embrace.

finally, after what felt like both an eternity and a single heartbeat, pedri pulled back just enough to look at you. “i love you,” he said, his voice steady but filled with all the emotion he was holding back. “and nothing is going to change that. distance doesn’t matter when it comes to us.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “so much.”

he smiled, the kind of smile that was meant just for you, the kind that made everything else fade away. “then that’s all that matters,” he said softly. “we’ll figure out the rest.”

before you could say anything else, his parents gently intervened, suggesting that they give you two a moment alone. with a few soft words and understanding looks, your families quietly walked away, giving you the privacy you needed for this final, heartfelt goodbye.

with the terminal now feeling strangely empty, you turned back to pedri, taking in every detail of his face as if trying to memorize it. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “and don’t forget to eat properly, and—”

“i promise,” he cut you off, a tender smile playing on his lips. “and you promise me you’ll keep smiling, okay? don’t let yourself get too sad, because i’ll be back before you know it.”

you nodded, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of the impending separation. “i’ll try,” you whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

pedri leaned in, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek as if to hold you there a little longer. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with the same mix of sadness and determination that mirrored your own.

as you stood there, your hands lingering on his chest, pedri couldn’t resist teasing you, hoping to bring a smile back to your face. “you know,” he began, a playful glint in his eyes, “it’s funny how you’re still so shy around me, even after everything we’ve done.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the memory of your last night together flooded back, making your cheeks flush a deep red.

“pedri,” you whined, half-embarrassed, half-amused, as you playfully swatted his chest. but the light teasing worked—your heart felt a little less heavy, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

“there it is,” he murmured, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “that’s the smile i love. just remember that, okay? we’re going to be okay.”

with one last, fleeting touch—his fingers brushing against yours—he turned and walked toward the gate, his figure growing smaller with each step. you stood there, watching until he disappeared from sight, your heart aching with the emptiness he left behind.

but even as the tears finally fell, you clung to the hope in his words, the love in his eyes. this wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning of a new chapter. and no matter the distance, you knew your love was strong enough to bridge it.

© 2024 PDRIESTA

[soft-persephone]

Would anyone be interested in monster!daughter & Miguel O’Hara?

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood, flesh eating, gore. (Nothing too extreme. I am not a horror expert or fan. But for this I’m willing to dabble)

I’ve read so many fics and fan art depict Miguel as some feral brown monster man thing, like references to chains and muzzle or straight up having a line in a fic where he will be “growling animalisgicly” or “crouching like a beast.”

All of this has lead to a very not good time.

But I’ve been churning it around in my head.

I’ve created this girl who was experimented on against her will, she’s saved by Jess and they’ve been friends ever since. She has a mother, but now Jess is like another mother figure, and almost an aunt, and Jess becomes an honorary member of their little family.

But it is as sweet as it is a decision made out of a necessity in Jess’s opinion.

The incident has left her with several side effects and urges she can’t control on her own. Their are periods where her mind shifts to instinct mode and not a normal human being and it terrifies her.

She wants to do.. things.. unspeakable things. She has to fight the urge to bite people. Sometimes it’s out of love, sometimes she has to feel their flesh muddle in her mouth, the taunt skin snapping in her her teeth as it rips into their flesh. She wants to hear the crackling sound of bone pricking her ears as they snap in her jaws.

Just to feel something…

Things sound too loud, smell too strong, the light hurts her eyes and when it gets really bad, the fangs force themselves out her gums, and her mouth bleeds when each one slowly surface.

There could be more changes, more things, but she doesn’t know what they are yet. She is too afraid of letting it go that far and what she might do.

But luckily, ever since Jess saved her life, she knows there is one solution. When Jess or someone she truly trusts us around, the world doesn’t sound so loud, the pain in her mouth and the light seeking into her eyes don’t matter.

But one day Jess can’t get to her in time on her own and Miguel ends up there with her.

Now he knows why Jess was never intimated by him. Why she would always tease about being able to handle him.

Because this seemingly normal girl may have the same if not more strength in her body than he has, from the way the bed creaks as you grip the sheets in pain forcing a seemingly inevitable transformation from taking place by sheer will alone.

Jess places a hand on the girl’s back and the muscles in her thighs relax, the death grip she has to stay in bed relax, the growls in her throat subside, and the rise and fall of her chest slows down into a regular rhythm.

“…Jess.” She relents.

Jess maneuvers her into a firm but gentle embrace, and by some silent prayer, you let her.

The fangs diss spear, the wild look in your eye subdues, and you fall into her hug willingly.

Miguel’s guilt in life has always clawed at his own mind, and after that forced injection that made him what he was and the ways he’s hurt people he has only thought of himself as such a thing, but to be confronted with it in the form of another?

A child too…

And then one day Jess can’t make it so she sends him.

But he only makes things worse. He knew he would.

His presence makes you tense, her fangs become more pronounced, and he sees they are thick, fat, with sharp tips. In comparison to the slender canines that hold poison in his mouth.

She immediately lunge at him and he has to pin her down.

She see him as a threat, and he can’t say your exactly wrong about that. He is a threat.

He does hurt people and your better off if he stays away and you never see him again.

He was a risk, and she was a child.

But he was a geneticist. He could do something about this. Probably save you in a way he cousins save himself. What was injected into him to kill him, had become his own reluctant salvation. But that didn’t have to be the same for you.

He couldn’t let something like this ruin a poor girls life. He wouldn’t.

He decides to watch over her from the shadows. He was only asking to be polite anyway. This was more important than formalities.

He takes some of her blood when she’s sleeping, a few stray curls of her hair from a brush, a cotton swab of her cheak.

Thankfully, she was a heavy sleeper.

Eventually, she let him close.

“What’s wrong? I thought hanging with your friends makes you feel better?”

“They think your my sugar daddy and Meena’s already been telling a whole bunch of people.”

Miguel swears under his breath and has to fight the urge to smatter the car window with his fist or show his temper.

“Well, if it’s just a rumor, it’ll die soon. Just wait it out and keep your head up.”

“If you say so..” she frowns and puts her headphones on.

It gets worse.. so much worse…

And now he’s sitting in front of Jess and Your mother without a good explanation to how he became a part of this young girls life.

“You approached her in a library and dragged her into your car to parade her around town?” Her mother screamed.

“No! I just waited until she was alone, so I could explain to her who I am and how I know Jess! I wanted to help her!”

“You watched and cornered her until she was alone and swooped in to get close to her? Because you saw how vulnerable she is!”

“No!”

“I’m calling Jess!” She bit out. “Don’t you dare move or I swear I’ll kill you before she gets here!”

“Mom, he’s not lying—“

“—not a word from you! Go to your room!”

He fucked up.

Jess did not hesitate to tell him as much.

They told him to stay away.

He did what they said.

Maybe it was for the best.

“Why did you let them say all those things about them that you new weren’t true!” You were at his apartment.

How the fuck did you manage to get to his apartment? He was back on 2099.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you come to campus with me like I asked and set the record straight? Why don’t you stand up for yourself? You…”

Her voice cracked and her lip was quivering.

His chest swelled and his heart beat faster than he ever felt before.

Why were telling him this? Why did you care so much.

It reminded him so much of.. of a person from a long time ago.

Who would berate him just as much when he was younger for being bullied. Who would stay by his side no matter how fucked up he was it what fucked up things he did.

It him like a truck.

He realized now why this child meant so much to him.

Why he wanted to be around her so bad. Who she reminded him of. What she represented.

Would his daughter with her have been like this? Would she have wanted a girl or children at all? If he showed her this lost poor would, would she care as much about this little girl as he did?

He opened the door and let her in, not saying a word.

He fixed her some tea and turned off the lights. He took his time and found a soft record to let meddle in the background. He wrapped her in a blanket.

She soon relaxed and settled into his chest, sleeping for the night.

She was nothing like him. No part of her was.

But she saw something in him that was.

He thought it was only the fangs, his size, and the unnatural strength in each fiber of his muscles.

But now he knows it was so much more, and it scared him.

It scared him as much as being a boyfriend did, as being a partner, lover friend…. Brother.

He was scared to be a father, especially a son.

But now he had a daughter, and she was the scariest.

[danielnelsen]

finally playing the sword & shield dlc (yes i’m a little late to the party lmao) and woooow crown tundra is so much more enjoyable than isle of armour

[marinecorvid]

throwing ideas against the wall (a la spaghetti) abt how their adventures affect them and I think Gwyn’s gonna lose a couple fingers at least between bw and bw2; she and zekrom get Got by kyurem under ghetsis’ control and while they survive by zekrom reforming into the dark stone and taking gwyn in with it, they still get hit with a nasty amount of glaciates and while zekrom is able to hibernate to recoup that damage, gwyn is just kinda kept in stasis w that frostbite and when she’s freed even though Nate’s Arcanine is there to warm her up it’s not enough and loses something

[shegetsburned]

Uhm hi 👋🏻 could you please write something about Gojo, Nanami, Geto and Toji's reactions to their significant other's life being threatened? Like heartbreaking stuff that ends up well? 👉🏻👈🏻

LOSING YOU w. jujutsu kaisen men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.angst/fluff.

• — ft. satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto, toji fushiguro. took me ages to get to but i’m a sucker for angst, so i just had to do it. thanks for the request, luv! • — content. their reaction to your life being threatened. • — tw. mentions of death, violence, murder.

satoru gojo

₊˚⊹ ᰔ as soon as your name came out of yaga’s mouth, satoru wasted no time and vanished. he searched every place he knew, every corner and alley, in a matter of seconds. there was no coherent thought in his mind while he teleported. the only thing he could clearly see was you. that you were in danger and that you needed to be saved. that he couldn’t let you die and that he previously had so clearly promised that he’d never let anything happen to either you or him.

a liar, he thought he was. how could he have let this happen? what was the point of being the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t even protect you. he really did believe nothing could happen to you if he was by your side. he’d murder anyone who’d ever try to harm you without even looking back. this time wouldn’t be any different.

he felt his heartbeat reach his ears when he finally felt you near an ally, back pressed against the wall. a hand on your chest, crimson blood dripping down your shirt. jerky breaths escaping your trembling lips. this curse had taken his sweet time with you. it wanted to feed and you were a tasty dinner. there were marks of struggle on your shredded clothes and bruised wrists.

nothing came out of satoru’s mouth when his eyes landed on you. he just couldn’t believe he had let this happen to you. his expression was stoic. when he slowly approached you the curse immediately felt it. the strongest sorcerer doesn’t let most curses escape from his grasp. but this one.. this one would inevitably suffer the most.

it wasn’t long before the curse felt his body being pushed against the wall in front of you. a yelp was heard when his skull hit the wall head-on. you could hear the bones crack and send shivers through your entire being. that’s when you realized your boyfriend had finally arrived. but when you lifted your head trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes he had already turned all his attention towards the threat.

you had never seen him like this. he was lifeless. his eyebrows were lowered and pulled closer together. you could’ve sworn his eyes bulged. he was enraged. he didn’t even bother to raise his arm towards the curse, he just advanced and slowly- very slowly crushed every little bone in the monster’s body.

you were out of breath but couldn’t shift your gaze from the horrible spectacle in front of you. the wall caved under the pressure as gojo used his infinity to create a space between him and the curse which only crushed it more. it was cruel. cruel but deserving considering the circumstances.

the curse’s body was retracting upon itself with no way out. a loud and piercing cry followed the sound of the wall being crushed under the weight of the infinity. the only thing you found the strength to mumble under your breath was your boyfriend’s name.

after a few seconds, black smoke emanated from the crushed bricked wall with no curses in sight. no remains, nothing. your heavy breath filled the air as satoru finally sighted. you could barely see his eyes when he turned to you, crouching down at your height.

his violence had surprised you, but you were so relieved. tears ran down your cheeks when you tried to speak. you tried to reach for satoru when he crouched but he was quicker and wrapped one arm around your back and another supporting the back of your head. he held you close and it made you feel at home. his scent and touch reassured you when you buried your head in his neck.

still silent, he held you tightly close to his chest. his hand threaded your hair, a slight pressure applied so he could make sure you were okay. you could feel all his anger slowly fade when you returned the gesture with one hand against his chest. your tears slowly fading as you felt the warmth of satoru around your body.

“satoru..”

he shushed you. always pulling you closer and closer to him. he wasn’t going to leave this time. he’d never let you endure something like this ever again.

“i’m right here. you’re safe. lend me your pain, baby. i’ll carry you the rest of the way.” he whispered into your ear, caressing your back so that you’d warm up to his touch. you could feel he was slowly coming back to being the satoru you knew.

you were safe in his arms but guilt still ran deep inside of him. he promised to take you to shoko as soon as possible, resting by your side until you were completely healthy. he also promised himself to assign you with an escort when he couldn’t be here to protect you.

satoru’s only concern was you and he’d never let anything get in the way of your well-being ever again. if he had to show every curse on this earth that he’d destroy them if they ever tried to get near you, he’d have no hesitation in doing so. you were safe. you knew it, now.

kento nanami

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you were the most important person for nanami. his one and only. his love, his soul, his heart. he would’ve resigned in an instant if you hadn’t begged him to keep his job as a sorcerer. but knowing his personal feelings about loss, you knew it’d break him if something came to happen to you. that is precisely why you always acted cautiously, never putting yourself in harm's way and living your life as safely as you could. unfortunately, this time, your efforts had been in vain.

when he saw you, helplessly struggling at the mercy of a first-grade curse wrapped around your throat, all he could think about was how much he regretted not having taken a safer job and bought you that house you both talked about so much on a beach in malaysia.

he knew he needed to act quickly or the curse would finish you off as easily as it had taken you hostage.

you wiggled your feet when it lifted you off the ground, hands desperately scratching and holding onto his grasp so he’d let go of his claws around your throat. you could feel kento’s eyes on you but couldn’t even dare to look at him or do anything else than push against the claws so they wouldn’t crush your neck further.

therefore, you couldn’t see him remove his tie, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles. he knew he couldn’t use a weapon, scared that the curse would use you as a shield. his fists were more precise and his sword wasn’t enough to unleash the rage he had built up inside.

he slowly made his way to the curse but, with every step, its hold crushed you more. you were so scared, almost out of breath with tears rolling down your cheeks. these cheeks kento had kissed so many times to take away your pain. you were hoping he’d do it once more.

once he realized that the threatening stance he was in only alarmed the curse, kento stood down, lowering his curse energy’s flow to an almost invisible state. he made himself look harmless in the face of the monster which slowly but surely helped you to breathe better.

you knew your husband. you had heard it several times from yuji and Ino and you also personally knew that he always handled things the right way. this is was kept you from breaking down and letting go of your almost meaningless fight against the curse’s strength. you had never doubted him and you wouldn’t now. he built his strength with yours. that’s what kento had told you the day he had asked for your hand.

his eyes were locked with your struggling gaze. despite him trying to contain himself, his veins stood out from how tightly he clenched his fists. he would’ve massacred the curse right here and now if it hadn’t cowardly taken you hostage. nanami might have seemed harmless in the moment but his anger was apparent.

without thinking much about it, he threw his sword aside, lifting his hands above to show complete surrender to the curse.

“let her go.”

the furious and deep voice of your husband made you whine, finally hearing a sign from him. unfortunately you could feel that the curse was still hesitating. the clinging of the sword on the ground had startled it which only showed kento how weak it really was. it also showed that it did not want to fight but preferred to flee.

this strange demeanor encouraged kento to step closer, hands still in the air, and that’s when he saw his opening. the curse was looking left and right to find an escape which diminished his attention and loosened his grip around your throat. it lasted just a few seconds but it was enough for you to breathe out his name.

“kento..”

that’s when he drew his fist and used all of his force and cursed energy to deliver a devastating blow right into the curse spirit’s face. it was sent flying several meters away after dropping you so kento could easily catch you and keep you from hitting the ground, arms wrapped around your body.

it only took one hit. one punch to obliterate half of the curse’s body in pieces. the shock had been so violent that your savior’s knuckles bled on your shirt through his yellow tie.

“mine.”

you could feel his heavy breath against your neck when he got on one knee, holding you against him, a hand carefully placed on your cheek. his thumb caressing your skin and whipping the single tear you shed.

“my love..”

kento’s expression had returned to the one you knew. the calm but stoic gaze he wore returned your breath to a normal pace. his arms pulled you always closer to him and he felt his sense come back when your fingers brushed the hand he had placed on your shoulder. you couldn’t talk or you’d burst into tears so you smiled in admiration.

he placed his warm lips upon your forehead and you could feel how scared he had been, maybe even more scared than you. his eyes were stuck on your finger, the one that wore his ring.

losing haibara had crushed his soul to tiny little pieces and you had been the one to delicately put them all back together with your innocent kindness and understanding. he’d be damned if he was to let something happen to the one who saved his heart.

this was the first and last time your life had been threatened, thanks to the careful supervision of kento but also his promise to quit his job and buy that house. he hadn’t realized how much he already had with you and would curse anybody who tried to take his happiness away from him ever again.

suguru geto

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you trusted him. you trusted that, if you were in pain, suguru would find ways to eradicate that pain. you trusted that if you showed any sign of distress, he’d be by your side helping you in any way he could. most importantly, you trusted that he’d protect you no matter the cost and no matter the consequences, because he was devoted to you. if there was something he’d burn the whole world for, it’d be you.

these men, these humans, these pathetic monkeys that had attacked you on your way home never knew what would come for them. you were beaten and almost lifeless when the men started searching for any kind of money or jewelry you had on your person. of course, you had resisted. that’s the only thing you could do, because you were so scared that if you had willingly complied to their demand they would’ve asked for more.

being helpless was scary. you thought it wouldn’t be so scary with suguru by your side, but right now you had never been more terrified. you also knew that your boyfriend would never forgive the men that harmed you, so the only thing you could do was wait. because you did not doubt him. you never doubted him. you knew he’d come for you.

when the men had finished checking your bags and any belongings you had on your person, one approached you, lifting your chin with a vulgar smile. you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes but hit bullseye when you spat directly in his face making him drop you in anger. he cursed under his breath before tightly grabbing you by the collar. a hand in the air so it’d land on your face.

with a weak and desperate groan you turned your face away but was surprised when the slap never landed.

when you reopened your eyes to look at your aggressor, he had his own hands wrapped his throat. it’s like he was struggling to breath, a firm pressure was crushing his neck as he tried to break free from this invisible hold.

when you realized what might be happening you tried to take a peak at the other men who were all struggling with the same problem. scratching and screaming at the invisible menace that were preventing them from breathing.

under the distressed shoutings, a cocky laugh attracted your gaze. when you turned to look at the source, your face lit up at the sight of suguru. but he didn’t look as relieved as you were. his laugh was dark, almost cynical. it was psychotic and displeased.

you had seen him despise simple-minded humans before but killing them was a different story. he wasn’t only taking their lives, he was torturing them. their necks were getting slowly squashed by the curses he had sent on them.

seeing you struggle to breath, helpless at the hand of those who had harmed an innocent girl like you. his girl. it had awaken another kind of hatred in him. a hatred that had been buried deep for so long.

suguru took one good look at you, searching for your eyes but you were incapable of keeping them open. you were just glad your boyfriend had arrived. you knew you were safe when you rested your eyes, a small smile of satisfaction drawn on your lips.

when he concentrated his gaze back on the man that had touched you, he crouched in front of him, getting to his level before taking over the curse and wrapping his hand around the stranger’s neck. tormenting him and taking the air away from him. suguru tightened his grip, his smile fading when he brought the man closer and closer towards death.

“so you think you can just harm her and get away with it?”

the man was hissing swears as small cries of help escaped his bloody lips. his face was swollen and breaking down under suguru’s hold and his watering eyes looked like they would pop out of their socket sooner or later. that’s how tight he held the man.

“pathetic.”

he fed on their cries. helplessly calling out for help, the men only fueled his rage with their insufferable sounds. the sorcerer remembered every time he had felt an ounce of empathy for these beings in the past and regretted every actions he had done to protect them when he saw your wounded state. what they had done was inexcusable and no amount of pain would be enough to atone for it.

after a while, resigned, your offender chocked out a weak apology. but as he did, all the bones in his body instantly broke under another a new kind of pressure coming from yet another curse suguru had unleashed upon him. so now he laid there, between your boyfriend’s compressed clutch. dead.

after a few seconds he dropped the body on the ground like garbage waste and walked to you, passing by the other men that were struggling to breath. he pushed the first one aside with his foot, throwing one on the ground, creating a path for him to walk to you.

“move. i’ve come to take what’s mine.”

on suguru’s command, two snaps followed when the curses broke the other men’s necks before they fell on the floor. three lifeless corpses were now scattered in front of both of you, and as soon as he made sure those stupide monkeys had payed for what they had done, he joined you.

when he leaned towards you, his hand grazed yours, wrapping it with his own in a warm grip. his eyes searched for yours, lifting your chin with his thumb before running it along your jaw, making comforting circles on your cheek.

“are you alright, my love? can you walk?”

suguru’s tone was calmer than before. his eyes never left yours when he wiped one of your tears. his comforting smile reassured you and you nodded at his question, holding onto his wrist when he helped you up, closing the distance between the two of you.

you could hear his calm heartbeat when you leaned against his chest, hiding between his arms and you wondered how he could be so tranquil after killing these men so easily. little did you know the only thing he felt was rage. he knew he was right to despise these inferior beings that had harmed the only important thing that mattered.

he could’ve burned the world for you.

toji fushiguro

₊˚⊹ ᰔ toji fushiguro was an asshole. a first-class asshole. you guys had slept together left and right and he always left first. you had no expectations regarding the man. no doubt that you were replaceable. he didn’t open up much and never talked about his work which didn’t alarm you much considering toji’s character.

basically, emotionally and personally speaking, you two weren’t close. that’s why, when two strangers raided your apartment, screaming fushiguro’s name in anger, you wondered why you had accepted to sleep with a man with a secret and violent past.

your furniture was on the floor and the men had destroyed most of your electronics so you had no way to call for help. one was guarding the door while the other took care of questioning you. it had something to do with a bet and broken promises. of course, money had to be involved, otherwise, why would they be threatening the girl he had slept with once or twice to know of his whereabouts?

tied to a chair, almost unconscious, he had been covering you with bruises and scratches using anything that he could find but you still gave him the same answer. you had no idea where toji was as he never kept contact with you. he was always the one that came to you. and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t expect him to come save you anytime soon.

after a while, when the man realized he might not easily get an answer out of you, he reached in his back, pulling out a pistol from the edge of his pants. at the sight of the gun, your heart shattered. that was it for you, you thought. you couldn’t get out of this mess and you would die convinced toji was out there somewhere, probably getting rich and fucking naive girls like you.

you couldn’t even talk anymore, your head was hanging in front of you, blood dripping from your mouth to your thighs. you didn’t know if you’d last long, your vision was blurry and you felt yourself chasing the dark tunnel that clouded your eyesight.

you could hear faint words of command when your chin was lifted with the cold metallic canon of the pistol. the man had your life between his hands. you knew he’d pull the trigger if he eventually realized you couldn’t give him any information he needed. you knew he would kill you. it was so easy and you were pissing him off.

your eyes never left his nervous figure which only frustrated him more and, out of instinct, he slapped you with the handle of the pistol, almost knocking the air out of you. your jaw was broken and tears were flooding your eyes when the blow forced you to look away.

but as he pulled his arm up, preparing for another strike, he seemed to stop in his movement, startled by something behind him. sounds of struggles and a broken door were heard when he shifted his gaze entirely towards the front of your apartment. his accomplice had disappeared which alerted the man and made him call out to him.

several seconds and unanswered calls later, on his guard, the armed stranger decided to go take a look. as soon as he took a step towards the broken piece of wood that was left, a corpse dropped to his feet.

it was the other man, and he seemed to have been brutally murdered from the back, a hole at his heart’s level revealed the level of violence he had endured which left the man panicked and distressed. sweat was covering his forehead when he tried to peak out the door, fingers trembling against the handle and trigger.

unfortunately for him, a tall and broad shadow quickly covered him, before a shot came off. one single gunshot followed by a loud thud.

you could barely make up the identity of the person who had saved you with your weak sight, but his odour was enough for you to distinguish the man clearly. he always smelled the same.

toji was here. he was standing in the doorway, a tight grip around his gun and a grin covering his scarred lips. “can’t believe they send these weaklings to come after me.”

he carefully stepped between the cadavers, examining the poor state of your apartment and their lifeless bodies before his gaze shifted to you. a quick exchange was enough for you to sigh in relief and let yourself relax to an unconscious state.

despite himself, he did feel an ounce of guilt when he took a good look at you. his mistakes had almost gotten you killed. he couldn’t have imagined how he would’ve felt if he had arrived too late. the blood on your face, the broken jaw and the many scars were revealed by the moonlight passing through the door. the cold air misplaced your hair for toji to see tears strolling down your face.

his grin faded as he stood still in front of you and the mess he had made. his grip had loosened around the gun but he slowly moved the canon towards the second man he had killed. without hesitation, he emptied his clip through the culprit’s head, a look of contempt and disgust plastered on his face.

“tsk.. you just had to go and get yourself noticed, hm?” he said, now focused only on you.

thanks to toji, you were safe now. and you had silently thanked him for coming back for you.

carrying you bridal style as you laid there now unconscious but safe in his arms, he placed his thumb against your jaw, tilting your head to get a proper look at you. even now, you were so beautifully calm and your cheeks wore a pink tint, probably because of the cold, which only accentuated your beauty and innocence.

with a sigh, like it weighed on his conscience, toji murmured. “guess someone’s gonna have to take care of you, from now on.”

but the truth was far from what it appeared to be. saving you that night had just brought the man closer to the conclusion that he cherished you more than he thought he did. you weighed on his conscience like a guilty obsession which he could only nourish by spending more time by your side.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[fushic0re]

𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?

𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR. 

Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards. 

You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you. 

“Hah…shit–” 

“Mama? Dada?” 

Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly. 

“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you. 

The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists. 

“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy. 

You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms. 

“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure. 

Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest. 

“Do something.” You hiss. 

“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–” 

“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!” 

“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–” 

“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”

“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?” 

“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?” 

You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms. 

You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?

“Excuse me?!” 

“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more. 

With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.

“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored. 

Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[rafecameroninterlude]

What I need more then anything is bambi!reader and rafe making out, and that having been all they have done, but she decides to push it a bit knowing he is trying to take it slow with her so she takes him of his shorts and gives him a handjob, but ofc a bit shy and insecure about it.

warnings: established relationship, bambi!reader is shy until she isn’t >:), handjob, slight fluff, poor rafe loses his mind at your method of getting your hand wet

“fuck.” rafe pulled away from you, a pained expression on his face as he palmed himself through his shorts. your lips were swollen and glossy with his spit, your own thighs rubbing together as rafe cursed under his breath. “m’sorry, i just need a second so this could go away.” he laughed uncomfortably, the sight of his erection making your mouth water.

rafe had been very adamant on you two waiting to have sex, his reason being that he just wanted to take his time in appreciating the early stages of your relationship. however, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way he made you feel, especially during times like these when he was trying to hide his hard-on from you.

you bit your lip nervously, scooting closer to your boyfriend before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “can i?” rafe’s eyes shot open, his gaze moving to your hand. “what?” he hissed when your fingertips met his clothed cock. “i want to make you feel good..” you whispered, applying more pressure on his length.

“you really don’t have to do that, baby-” rafe’s words were cut off when you pecked his lips. “i want to.” you dropped to your knees, rafe welcoming you between his thighs. “teach me how you like it?” rafe shuddered, giving you a slow nod. watching you take him out of his shorts with that nervous yet excited expression was rafe’s new favorite thing.

you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp once he was free of any restraints, his cock springing up in the air. “what do i do?” rafe wished he could take a picture of this moment. you on your knees, with his cock in your face and those doe eyes just beaming up at him. “get your hand wet first.” you swallowed thickly, gathering the wetness between your thighs with a moan.

rafe’s eyes widened. “did you just-” your heart started beating in your ears, afraid that you did something wrong. “what?” rafe blinked, his tongue running across his bottom lip as he stared at you. “holy fuck. i thought you would lick your hand or something but you just put it in your underwear.” he took your now glistening palm and wrapped it around his base.

“are you that wet right now?” his lewd words made your skin flush, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you nodded. you watched his head roll to the side, his hand gliding yours up and down his length. “i swear your hands have magic, mine have never felt this good.” both of you laughed, rafe taking a moment to lean down and kiss you.

“you’ll keep doing it just like this, baby.” he let go of your hand, letting you do it by yourself. you kept up the same pace, your boyfriend jolting every now and then when your fingers grazed the tip. testing it out again to see his reaction, you jumped when rafe groaned. “do that again.” he glanced at you, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head when you did so.

“ah, shit.” his hips bucked. “is this okay?” you squeaked out, rafe nodding frantically. tugging at rafe’s shirt, you wanted nothing more than to see his muscles constricting underneath your touch. without a word, rafe slipped off his t-shirt in one swift movement. “fuck, i’m close.” you moved faster, getting closer to him as the sound of your slick palm echoed in his room.

“y/n-” his hand came down to hold onto your wrist, his orgasm ripping straight through him. as if it was your instinct to open your mouth when he shot his load, rafe watched with hooded eyes as he painted your face. “jeezzz,” rafe sighed, “i didn’t know you were this fucking nasty.” he brought you up by your chin, taking you in a heated kiss despite the mess.

“let me return the favor?”

[maskedbyghost]

jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7

even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…

and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.

the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."

"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.

"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."

simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.

frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.

simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."

shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.

*

later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.

"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"

"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."

"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”

“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.

simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.

"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.

*

soap: so, i guess it worked?

y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  

soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.