#And it’s so stupid and I HATE IT but I have to like take the disappointment. try to love it. make it a prayer
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starkeysbunny · 2 days ago
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tears [rafe cameron]
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pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.
warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe
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rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.
“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.
“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“
his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.
“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”
his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.
he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.
“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.
“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”
she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.
“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.
“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.
she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“
“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”
he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.
she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.
he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.
she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”
he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.
she shakes her head. “just you.”
he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.
he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”
he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.
nothing came before his girl.
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alchemistc · 3 days ago
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Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.
The knocking continues.
It's getting louder.
There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.
Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.
He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.
Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.
The knocking returns less than a minute later.
---
There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.
Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.
Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.
Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.
Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.
Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.
"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.
Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.
It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.
The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.
"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.
"What are you -?"
"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."
---
He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.
"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.
Buck's scowl.
God.
"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."
"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."
Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."
The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.
"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.
It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.
The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.
This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.
Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.
Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.
That he'd forgotten about.
Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.
"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.
That somehow stings just a little bit extra.
Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.
"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.
"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.
"Cut it out, Buck."
Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."
---
The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.
Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.
Buck almost looks triumphant.
"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."
He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.
Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.
The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.
"This isn't everything."
Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.
"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.
He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.
He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.
Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.
"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.
"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."
"That's not fair."
"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."
"I know."
"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."
"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.
Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."
"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.
"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."
He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.
"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.
Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.
Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.
"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."
It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.
"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."
Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.
"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."
---
He goes in for the kill.
"I called Abby, two nights ago."
Right for the jugular. No survivors.
"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."
Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.
"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.
Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."
The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.
"I can't do this."
"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"
"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."
Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."
"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.
"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."
Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.
Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.
He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.
---
There is someone knocking at his door.
Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.
He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.
There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 day ago
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heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓
- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)
Unwavering
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.
An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂
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Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.
Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.
With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.
Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.
Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.
Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.
With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”
You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.
“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”
Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.
“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.
“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.
Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.
“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”
Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.
Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”
Oh boy.
*** *** ***
After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.
He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.
He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.
It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.
It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.
But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.
But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.
He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.
His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.
His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.
Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.
Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.
His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.
“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.
His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.
After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.
He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.
His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.
Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.
He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.
Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.
By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.
His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.
“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.
You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.
“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”
Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”
You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”
His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.
“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”
Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”
Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.
You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.
Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.
“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.
“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.
His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”
You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.
His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”
“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.
“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.
“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”
Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.
You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.
It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.
This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.
Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.
“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.
“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.
You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.
Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.
Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.
Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.
He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.
“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.
“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.
Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.
You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”
Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.
A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.
Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.
“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.
“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.
“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”
You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.
Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.
When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.
Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…
His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.
You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.
“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.
Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.
His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.
Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.
“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.
“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.
“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.
“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.
When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.
His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.
“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.
“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.
“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”
“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.
“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.
Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.
Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.
His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.
Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.
“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.
“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.
“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.
Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.
Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.
Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.
Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.
“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.
Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.
“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.
“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.
Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.
His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.
It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.
He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.
“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.
“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.
“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.
The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.
“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.
They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.
Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.
Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.
Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.
Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.
He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.
“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.
“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”
It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.
He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.
You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.
His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”
All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”
As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.
Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.
“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.
“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.
He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?
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nubsdolls · 2 days ago
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SYPNOSIS ; g/n reader x sparring partner! bakugou, fluff, not proofread .. matching bracelets , enjoy ! xoxo, jord .ᐟ
A/N; this was supposed to be a lil drabble but this came out longer than i intended .. anywaayss. I PROOOMISEEE im gonna start posting more i’ve disappeared for sosososso long.. in the meanwhile take this, luv u guys !!!!!
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sparring partner! bakugou that swears he only bugs you 24/7 to “get your ass to training grounds” because you need to improve. no other reason because of course, he cant stand you.. or anything about you, for that matter.
so no, it doesnt “mean” anything when sparring partner! bakugou comes up from behind you to, “fix” your form. adjusting you by signaling you to rotate to the side by giving your hips a little push, nudging your elbows up so your face is protected by your hands.
sparring partner! bakugou who always insists to be near you, discreetly, if he can. because he obviously doesnt want it to seem like he cares, because he doesnt. even during training or maybe even an attack on the school? near you. covering you and making sure warn you of the sneak attacks from behind you.
and even though you practically hate sparring with him, because hes so damn ruthless, ensuring a trip to recovery girl by the end of it, its weirdly the highlight of your days. hearing the ding! of your phone, followed by the usual message from him.
: training grounds. 5 mins
even when its five in the goddamn morning. you never fail to meet him there.
and after a small while of this cycle, you make the (probably) safe assumption you guys are, friends? acquaintances?..hell, maybe you were even on kirishima’s level of ‘friend’. toleratable? at the least.
so while on one of your free days afterschool, youre shopping with the bakusquad. mina, jirou, denki, sero, kirishima, and obviously, bakugou. god knows how they convinced him to tag along.. you get lost in a cute little merch store, spotting matching all might bracelets. ew, corny. who would even get those?
ca—ching! “aaand heres your change, have a nice day!”
you would.
though, you probably shouldve thought this out.. who were you gonna match with? ofcourse, it could always be mina, but she also didnt absolutely fixate on all might. but, there was, one person you had in mind..
and sometime in the week after the hangout, at the end of your—no less than brutal, training session, you tiredly brought it up.
“the other day—while we were at the mall, i saw these matching all might bracelets—“ pant, “i kinda just bought on it on sight, annnd i didnt really think of who to give the other half to before i did.. but i know you like him, so..”
you trail off, simply suggesting it as you move over to sit down on a bench, taking a drink of water, while also, pulling out the bracelets from your pockets and reaching your free hand up to show him.
sparring partner! bakugou scoffs upon seeing the bracelets in your hand. golden age and bronze age all might bracelets.
“thats stupid. im not wearing that shit.” he growls, crossing his arms. his voice a little panted from training. you were getting better. not that he would tell you that directly, of course.
“chill, dynamight.” you roll your eyes playfully, emphasizing his hero name on your tongue. “i was just suggesting it, if you dont want it its fine.” you explain casually. even if, the sentence did hurt your feelings a little.
“ill just give it to izuku.” you shrug, you guys were friends, pretty close if you did say so.
and you almost swear you saw bakugou’s eye twitch. a glint of, jealousy? in his eyes as you bring up the green haired boy’s name.
he lets out an amused huff, rolling his eyes. “tch. whatever, give it to that nerd. not like i care.” before he reaches down next to you for your water bottle, taking a swing, airsip.
setting the bottle back down next to your thigh, he speaks up again. “‘aight, hurry, we arent done. round two.” he adds harshly, motioning with his hand for you to get back up.
“come on. please? one more minute. its so eaarlyyy.” you whine, almost pouty as you throw your head back. still exhausted from the sparring just a few minutes ago. 6am and hes annoyingly productive.
“hurry or i can blast your ass right here.” he glares down at you, grumbling through gritted teeth.
“im getting uupp, geeez.” you groan, lazily getting up from the bench and almost coming up to meet his full height.
later in the day, during class training, you figure you should probably find izuku to give him the other matching half, one already on your wrist.
you couldve sworn you remembered putting it back onto your other wrist so you wouldnt lose it. maybe it was in your dorm instead? whatever, youd just have to give it to him tomorrow.
today, you were working in partners, testing out new possible moves, strengths, weaknesses, and overall just trying to improve on any weak spots.
and like always, sparring partner! bakugou was next to you. basically having claimed you as his designated partner for anything by now, glaring at anyone who even suggested you work with them and not him.
and as your throwing hits at him, trying to catch him off base with your quirk, you notice a glint coming from under his gauntlet, you pause a moment.
its the matching half of your bracelet, all might’s golden age bracelet.
he notices this. feeling his ears dust the slightest pink from, embarrassment? and he uses this moment of weakness to gain the upper hand, pinning you down on the floor.
and youre completely shocked by the sudden move. somehow flipped on your chest to the ground, arms tucked behind your back with his knee holding you down.
“stay focused.” he hisses, reprimanding you for your bad habit.
“thought you said it was stupid?” you mutter. tilting your head to the side ever so slightly to look at him. a sly, cheeky smirk on your face.
“it is.”
maybe it wasnt so stupid after all.
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shanastoryteller · 3 days ago
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Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.
The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.
“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.
“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.
That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.
He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.
Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.
Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.
Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”
Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.
Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”
Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.
“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.
Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.
Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.
The demons bow.
He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.
Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.
Except one.
Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”
“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”
“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”
Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.
Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”
Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.
“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”
“Sam,” Ruby says.
He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.
Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.
For the first time, fear flickers across her face.
Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.
Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.
“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”
What’s she talking about? What birthright?
What has Sam done?
“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”
“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”
No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.
Did he do this? Is this his fault?
“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.
“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”
Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.
She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.
Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.
Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.
“That’s enough,” Sam says.
“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”
Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”
Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.
He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."
Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.
Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.
“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.
Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”
“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”
“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.
Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.
Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind
The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.
She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”
She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.
“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.
She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”
“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.
“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.
Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.
She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”
“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.
“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”
His entire body goes gold.
“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”
“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”
Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”
She did what?
“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”
How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”
“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”
“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.
She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”
“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”
“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”
He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.
“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”
“Why?” he asks.
She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”
Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.
But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.
“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”
Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”
Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”
Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”
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writerdownbookworder · 3 days ago
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Katie flung the door open and ushered the young king inside quickly, apologizing profusely.
King Dominick rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m inside now. Thank you.”
Katie stared for a moment as he took off his coat and hat and hung them by the door. 
“Uh, what can I do for you, Your Highness?” she asked awkwardly, gesturing for him to sit down.
The king sighed. “Truthfully, I just need a place to wait out the storm until some of my men can find me. Stupid storm came out of nowhere and my horse…couldn’t make it through. Stepped in a hole.”
Katie winced. “Is he…still out there?” 
King Dominick shrugged. “Couldn’t let him suffer out there for who knows how long.”
The wind howled outside, startling them both. Katie walked over the window and looked out. 
She turned back to the king slowly. “I hate to have to tell you this, Your Highness, but you might be stuck here longer than you thought. Snow storms especially are pretty bad here in the valley. Could last for a few days. And if no one knows where you are…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.
He sighed, his head dropping into his hands. “Call me Dominick. If I’m going to be here for a while, we might as well dispense with the formalities. And your name is?”
“Katie,” she mumbled, slightly shocked. She shook herself out of her stupor and rushed into the kitchen, bringing back a bowl of soup for each of them. 
“Glad I made extra,” she joked with a half-smile.
They didn’t speak as they picked at their food. Neither of them said much as Katie showed Dominick to her guest room for the night.
They weren’t sure how it happened. One day, they were barely speaking, their relationship strained from proximity and difference in social class. Then the next day, they were laughing together like old friends.
It took two days for the snow to stop. Another two days for it to melt enough to travel. By then, Dominick was all too happy to wait for someone to find him, praying they would take their time.
Almost a week after the snow melted, the dreaded moment finally came with a pound on the front door of Katie’s cottage.
The two looked at each other, their eyes wide with a mixture of relief, fear, and sadness. 
Katie slowly rose and trudged over to open the door without a word, reverting back to the beginning when they barely spoke.
Dominick lunged and grabbed Katie’s wrist. “Wait,” he said desperately.
She looked at him, taking a deep breath and redrawing the lines they had slowly torn down. “Yes, Your Highness?”
Dominick winced. “Wait,” he said again.
The pounding on the door resumed, startling them.
Katie moved toward the door again. “We’re out of time. You need to go back to your life and I need to go back to mine.” She gently pulled her hand away, turning so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.
Dominick reached for her again, but Katie pulled the door open, and the guards on the other side erupted in cheers.
They were all so busy thanking Katie and bundling Dominick onto a horse, that every guard missed the look Dominick was giving her.
Katie ignored the burning in her eyes as she watched them ride away.
A week later, a letter arrived for Katie. She burned it. For the next several months, letters kept arriving, sometimes, days apart, sometimes a week, but all from Dominick.
Katie burned every single one.
"who's this?" "it's the fucking king of England, that's who it is. Now open up, I'm drenched and I'm cold" answered a voice from the outside. "really funny sir. And original, I haven't heard this one since… Oh I'm sorry your highness"
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taojjang · 2 days ago
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riize in an argument
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pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: angst, warnings: cussing, jealousy, medication, lovebombing, (light) forced affection pink text > reader blue text > riize
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♡⸝⸝ getting into petty arguments with your boyfriend
shotaro . . . can't understand why you don't trust him.
the two of you had just gotten home from a dinner date, which shotaro thought had gone well but apparently not. shotaro was confused as to why you were suddenly silent during the drive home. "are you tired, honey? you're not talking much." he figured you were just sleepy since you didn't respond, only quietly resting your head against the window.
after the two of you changed from your date clothes and unwound for the night, shotaro grew concerned. he could tell you were upset about something, but he couldn't tell what. he kept poking at you, reaching to pry at your silence. "did i upset you honey? did i say something wrong?" you took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed, finally deciding to come out of your silence. "i don't like how you were talking to the waitress." shotaro tilted his head and stepped closer to you. "what do you mean?" "you know what i mean, shotaro. you saw how she was looking at you. you were even giving in.. you flirted back." shotaro slightly furrowed his eyebrows and lightly held your hand. "what flirting, honey? i was only being nice to her." you began growing frustrated by how innocent he was acting. "you're just so oblivious sometimes, taro. you think i couldn't see the looks you were exchanging with her? she was all over you, you should've known her intentions." shotaro scoffed and let go of your hand. he felt quite hurt that he spent so much effort taking you out for a nice dinner just for you to accuse him of dedicating his time to another woman. "she was just being nice and i was returning her energy. you're just overanalyzing like you always do."
as soon as those words left shotaro's lips, your heart began to sting. taro's eyes softened as he realized what he'd said to you. you nodded and grabbed your pillow, standing up to leave. you kept silent knowing the ache in your throat would soon turn to tears. taro held your hand and tried pleading with you; "i didn't mean it like that honey, i just-" "no, it's fine." you pulled your wrist out of his weak grip and muttered a defeated "goodnight" before leaving to spend the night on the couch. once the door shut behind you, taro sat down on the bed and let out a shaky breath as he realized how much he'd just hurt you.
eunseok . . . can't tolerate your disobedience.
he was cleaning the bathroom when he saw your pill case sitting on the counter. he sighed and snatched the full case off of the counter, walking to the living room to confront you.
you sat confused as your boyfriend held the box of pills in your face. "hm..?" "darling, how many times do i have to tell you to take your medicine?" he sighed and looked down at the 3 days worth of forgotten pills in the tin. "i'm not your doctor, i can't keep reminding you. it's getting tiring." you sighed and threw your head back in frustration. this was a common thing for eunseok to bring up every so often, but it was getting exhausting. "then you don't have to keep reminding me, seok. i'm also tired of it." eunseok scoffed and bit his lip. "tired of what? me looking out for you?" you wanted to roll your eyes at his condescending tone. you always hated how arrogant he gets, thinking he's so much smarter than you and telling you off like you're a misbehaving toddler. "no, seok. i'm just tired of taking these stupid pills all the time. i'll live without them for a few days. i don't like it when you're bossy like this." eunseok bit his lip at your ungrateful tone grating at his ears. he looked down at you with a stern glare, squinting in annoyance. "making sure you're healthy is being bossy? you're being a brat, y/n. i wouldn't have to be 'bossy' if you listened to me and at least tried to get better. you're just lazy." you felt your blood boil as you poked your tongue through your cheek. you were far more than angry at this point. you looked up at him and huffed, "i'm not lazy for being sick of taking pills every day. all i want is for you to chill out and stop shoving pills in my face all the time. i'll be fine." eunseok sighed and nodded, tossing the case on the table in front of you. "alright, then. i'll stop caring so much. fuck, i can't stand you sometimes."
it's not rare for the two of you to get mean during arguments, but it is rare for eunseok to say something that hurts you this much. you didn't expect to feel your heart aching after simply choosing not to take your medication. despite wanting to snap back at him, all you could do was nod, snatching the pills off the counter and swallowing them in one go. even after saying something so blunt, eunseok couldn't help but worry about your sudden silence and compliance. you stood up and put the pill case into the pocket of your hoodie. you swallow back a mixture of frustrated insults and hurt tears as you look up at him with glossy eyes. "i'll leave you alone since you can't stand me so badly." you coldly walk past him to the front door, slamming it behind you. eunseok sighed and walked back to the bathroom, hoping to distract himself from the idea that he'd just crossed the line.
sungchan . . . can't tolerate your mood swings.
as much as he hates to admit it, you're hard to handle. no matter how well he treats you or how much he spoils you, you'll still come home and find a reason to be sad. but he can't understand that sometimes you just need time alone. you had a long day at work and simply wanted to come home and recharge, looking forward to lying down and maybe watching your comfort show. but sungchan had other plans for you. as much as you love him, it gets tiring to be suffocated with cuddles when you just need time alone. today, you couldn't suppress your discomfort. you just didn't expect sungchan to get so angry.
"my fault for wanting to comfort you when you're upset." sungchan let go of your waist and moved to the opposite side of your bed. you sighed and sat up, turning to him. "thank you, sungchan. i'm really not mad at you, i just need time alone sometimes." you tried reassuring him once you heard his pained tone, but to no avail. "you ever think i need comfort, too? i had a horrible day and you can't even hug me for a few minutes?" for a second, you thought he was joking. but once you saw the angered expression on his face, your smile dropped. "baby, are you serious? i had a shitty day, too. all i need is some time alone. why are you taking it so personally?" "because it feels personal, y/n. you're pushing me away when i was just trying to make you feel better." you felt almost sickened by how ridiculous he sounded. you've already had a terrible day and you certainly weren't in the mood to argue. "that's not what i mean, sungchan, and you know it. all i'm asking is to be alone." sungchan seemingly felt the same way, leaving one last message before avoiding the conflict. "fine, didn't know i bothered you so much. don't bother coming to me later."
sungchan stormed out of the room. soon, the echo of his bedroom door slamming shut rang through the house. though you got what you wanted, your bed began feeling empty. you wanted to sleep it off, but the guilt now felt heavier than your fatigue.
wonbin . . . can't fathom the idea of losing.
wonbin is so adorably whiny. so adorable that you like to tease him just to hear him cry "stop it!" you admit to being a little too harsh sometimes when he gets frustrated with you, but you can't help yourself. wonbin is just too cute :( when the two of you play games, he's always whining about losing. if he's winning, he'll be giggling and having the time of his life— but god forbid it's the opposite.
"ah, this is getting annoying!" wonbin whined, moving farther from the table. you laughed and gestured at the pile of cards in front of you. "your turn! come on, at least try to beat me!" wonbin sighed and tossed another card on the table. before he knew it, your cards were almost used up and you were this close to winning the game. "this isn't fun anymore." wonbin groaned, leaning back with a pout on his face. you sighed and joked, "baby, you're always complaining. such a sore loser!" but something about your teasing ticked wonbin off. his sulky demeanor soon turned bitter and he gave you a resentful glare. "i wouldn't have to complain if you didn't get all cocky every time you won. you never give me a chance." wonbin's whiny complaints were beginning to get to you. you felt as if he was blaming you for his losses. "i'm just playing the game. it's not my fault i'm good at it." you immediately regretted your defense when the deck of cards were slammed onto the table in front of you. "gosh, i fucking get it y/n." wonbin stood up and stormed off, mumbling "this is why i can't do anything with you."
you felt your heart tear at his empty-hearted words. with the slam of his bedroom door, your tears began falling down your face. you never thought a simple card game would drive wonbin to this level of annoyance. you stood up and put the cards back into the box while considering whether to apologize or leave him be. you stand in front of his bedroom door, hesitantly muttering through your shaky breath, "i'm gonna go home now." you stood there like an idiot waiting for a reply, but you heard nothing other than the tapping of your tears dripping onto the hardwood floor.
seunghan . . . can't understand why his affection hurts you.
it's rare for the two of you to argue since seunghan travels extra lengths to make sure you're happy. after all, you're his entire world and he'd give up anything to keep you satisfied. but that's why so many problems go unanswered. whenever there's an issue between the two of you, seunghan just tugs you into a hug and tries to take your mind off of your frustration while the problem sits in the dust.
"it's called love bombing," you explain to seunghan, who was staring at you with confused yet hurt eyes. "i know you're just trying to make me happy, but it's bringing up so many more problems than we need, love." seunghan looked down at your hands and furrowed his eyebrows. "well, how? does my affection not fix anything? wouldn't you rather cuddle than argue all night?" you sighed and bit your lip in frustration. seunghan had expected you to agree, but his heart began hurting once you shook your head. "that's the problem, seunghan. making up without resolving anything is only making things worse for us. you need to talk to me, love. i can't keep kissing you to forget how hurt i am." seunghan felt all of his efforts go to waste. he'd truly hoped his affection could mend every rift between you two, but he was mistaken. seunghan picked up his phone from the bed and stood up. "i'm sorry, y/n. i just thought maybe my love would be enough to fix things."
seunghan turned around and made his way to the bedroom door, utilizing every ounce of strength in him to refrain from kissing you goodnight. "i promise i'll work on communicating, just... not yet. i don't know if i can speak to you right now. goodnight." seunghan left feeling shattered and simply exhausted from the confrontation. though you'd finally been able to address a longstanding issue, you felt everything but relief. now, both you and your crushed boyfriend wouldn't sleep a wink.
sohee . . . can't understand the concept of distance.
these past few days, sohee's noticed how different you've been acting. you've been coming to his house less and when he'd visit you, your attention was never completely his. worried, sohee brought up his concern to you, you brushing it off and telling him it's exam season, you've just been super drained from school. it all started to make sense, but that didn't solve any of his concerns. if anything, he was even more worried for your wellbeing, wondering how you could care for yourself if you don't even have the time to sit and talk with him for more than 10 minutes. so he began coming over more often to take care of you and keep your house tidy while you worked hard on your laptop. all of this hard work, yet you wouldn't let him sleep over.
"what..? why can't i?" sohee asked, hand frozen reaching for the pajamas he'd brought. "i'm just so exhausted, baby, i'm sorry. maybe you could sleep over when my exams are all finished..?" sohee was confused. he started to believe you weren't tired of the exams, but him. you noticed the sullen look forming on his face. you place your hand on his cheek and sent him a reassuring yet weak smile. "it's nothing personal, alright? i'm just tired." you'd expected sohee to understand, but his eyes shot up to you with an unfamiliar dark glint in them. "but you're making it personal, y/n. you can't even look at me when i'm beside you, not even for a second. are you tired of your work or me?" your heart rate began rapidly rising as sohee grew more and more frantic. "what makes you think i'm tired of you? i told you, i'm just tired. i want to rest alone, is that so terrible? i'm only-" "you don't have to keep making up excuses. i'll leave if you want me to but i'm not gonna let you lie to my face. stop sugarcoating it and tell me, y/n, you're just tired of me, aren't you?" you wanted to tell him he was wrong; he was the only escape you had from your excruciatingly repetitive schedule, yet he only believed you wanted to get rid of him. you tried to explain your feelings, yet all you could manage to do was scream, "you're not listening to me!" sohee scoffed at your sudden yelling. he bit his lip and picked up his bags, muttering, "there's nothing to listen to. there's no excuse you can make for not wanting anything to do with me."
you panicked as sohee left the room. you wanted to explain to him that he was completely mistaken and he was all you needed, but he wouldn't let you speak. you sighed as the front door slammed shut, the cold air leaking inside and stinging your tear-stained cheeks.
anton . . . can't let go of even the smallest slip-ups.
don't get me wrong— anton is the most forgiving boyfriend in the world. he could still smile and give you a goodnight kiss even if you ate the leftovers he'd been saving for dinner. but small things you do can lead him to make drastic assumptions about your relationship. last night, you were so exhausted that you'd forgotten to say your nightly "i love you" before hanging up on him. of course, you love him to death, but you were simply so tired after the horrible day you'd had that it'd slipped your mind since all you could think about was your bed. while you were knocked out cold, anton was sitting with his knees pressed against his chest, wondering if he'd done something wrong to not deserve an i-love-you. your poor baby is just a chronic overthinker.
"do you still love me..?" anton asked, sitting beside you on your bed while gently holding your hand. you let out a sleepy giggle, slowly nodding. "of course i do, silly. what makes you ask?" anton swallowed back his uncertainty and explained, "i don't know... you just didn't say 'i love you' last night before you hung up. i thought maybe i did something wrong." you let out a long sigh and stroked the back of his hand with your thumb. "that means nothing, dummy. i was just so tired, i'm sorry. i love you, okay?" things should've ended here, but anton just could not brush off his insecurity. "but you didn't say it..! it's such a normal thing now, how could you forget to say it? do you really not love me anymore?" anton was deeply hurt that you forgot such a crucial part of your regular routine with him, but you didn't realize how important this was to him. it only hurt to know all of your efforts to make him happy were blown away by this minuscule mistake. you'd been so busy and stressed with how packed your schedule was. nevertheless, you still tried your hardest to make time for your boyfriend. yet this one mistake lead him to believe you had no love for him. you were beyond frustrated. "i've been trying so hard to make sure you feel loved, anton. i keep in contact with you all day no matter how occupied i am and i still find time to cook dinner for you while i still have shitloads of homework waiting for me. how do i not love you?" anton was taken aback by the intimidating change in tone. your sudden anger only worsened his anxious overthinking. but of course, he remained avoidant. anton let go of your hand and nodded, looking down at his hand. "i'm really sorry, y/n. i didn't mean to make you angry. goodnight, love you."
you didn't realize your anger had scared him off until he left your room with tears in his eyes. regret pooled in your stomach and you began feeling sick. nothing hurt more than seeing that inconsolable look on your baby's face. tears made their way to your eyes as your mind traced the idea that you were the worst girlfriend you could possibly be.
(a/n: my first time writing angst..! i hope this was okay... it hurts so much writing angst without a happy ending :( if you're like me and need closure after every angst you read, there's a part two coming! do not fret my sensitive sisters 🙂‍↕️)
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monstersflashlight · 3 days ago
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Set up by a baby-orc (Orc’s POV)
A/N: Hi there lovelies, I thought it would be really cute to see what he was thinking in this scene, so here we have it. (Part 1 here)
Orc!reader (POV) x fem!human || sfw, meet-cute, soulmates
When your big sister asked you to pick up her kid, you were more than happy to do so. You were the cool uncle and you had to maintain that status or your brother Inar would take that place, and you loved that big stupid dude, but you weren’t against dirty play to be the cool uncle. Like showing up to the daycare and taking him to get ice cream. Even if your sister would hate you later for it.
You could sense your nephew inside, the line joining you wasn’t as strong as the one linking you with your brothers and sisters, but it was enough to feel his happiness and alert him you were already there.
Your special hearing could pick up his fast steps as you heard a sweet voice asked: "Who?" He appeared through the door with a human woman and your breath got caught in your throat. She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, her wide hips and voluptuous figure making your dick twitch in the most uncomfortable moment.
"My uncle!" Your favorite baby orc exclaimed, pointing across the patio directly at you.
If you thought she was beautiful before it was nothing like what you felt when she looked up and your eyes met. She looked amazed at you as she gaped in the tiniest way, making you gape back at her. And then it clicked, she was her. Your mate. The one you’ve been waiting forever to meet. She was your fucking mate and you were gaping at her like a stupid orc.
She walked to you moving her hips, your nephew next to her talking excitedly about something you didn’t comprehend. When she was standing right in front of you, you took a deep breath, her scent hitting you like a tidal wave. She smelled perfect, like the forest in the spring and your favorite food at the same time. She smelled so perfect you couldn’t stop breathing in and out almost driving yourself to hyperventilation.
She looked down at your nephew, and you snapped out of your stupor.
“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” Your nephew sounded so excited you smiled down at him, his words making you blush as she giggled. Your heart skipped a beat, her laugh was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.
“I can see that,” you said in a choked voice, almost too low. She squirmed in the tiniest way, but you were hyper-aware of every breath she took, every tiny movement of her delicious body. Your eyes were fixated on her as your brain filled with adoration and desperation. It was so intense it took your breath away.
Your nephew couldn’t catch the tension in the air as he kept talking. “Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He said it like it was such a weird thing that you had to bite down on your lip not to laugh. He was so freaking cute.
“Yours will grow eventually, though,” you explained, kneeling on the floor in front of him, you still towered over him but his little green face was closer to him when you said it. You looked at her and realized you were still a bit taller than her, even on your knees, and you couldn’t avoid realizing how hard it would be to fit inside of her… But somewhat you knew she would take you better than any other creature on earth.
“They will?!” Your nephew sounded so shocked by that information that you cursed internally because he should know that. Baby orcs should have that kind of information, fuck.
“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” she explained, touching his head affectionately and making your insides go all gooey with appreciation.
She shivered almost imperceptibly, but you saw. You couldn’t avoid staring at her frame in front of you, your insides turning and moving, asking you to get closer, to touch her, to claim her. But you couldn’t. She was humans and humans didn’t have the mating instincts orcs had. You would have to woo her first, explain everything and made sure she understood what it meant completely.
She looked around uncomfortably and you regretted being such a creep that couldn’t stop staring at her. “I should go back to the kids,” she let out, looking at you and rapidly to the ground.
“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” He said as she walked a few steps backwards. But you couldn’t let her go just like that, so your impulsive side won and you said: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” you knew you did good when you saw a big smile breaking in her gorgeous face. She didn’t turn back, but you didn’t care, her smile would keep you content for days.
You stared at her until she was at the door of the school, and when she turned around and her eyes caught you, your smile was so big she blushed and ran inside, making you chuckle as you took your nephew to the car, already planning how to woo her completely.
You’d see her soon enough.
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fruithoughts · 2 days ago
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‎‎‎ㅤㅤHow to catch a hufflepuff?
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‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjeonghan x fem!reader  
01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember .  ⎯⎯⎯  jeonghan.
02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 .  ⎯⎯⎯ one sided beef, he tries to a dick but he's too in love lol what a loser, MANY PET NAMES(pretty girl, doll, puppy...), reader is a muggle, smut at very end, smut with plot, rough sex.
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September, 1 
— Are you still not over yourself? — A new year at Hogwarts begins, and just like that, Yoon Jeonghan it’s back to his favorite hobby of tormenting his favorite girl.
— Hogwarts should get over itself! It’s insane that we still have to write with quills — the Hufflepuff answers, obviously frustrated and with a good reason to be so, it’s 2024 and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry it’s still stuck on writing with quills? In individual papers? This fact alone it’s crazier than most spells they’ve ever teached.
— You say it as if the muggle option is much better — he lies straight through his teeth, knowing damn well that pens are, with no doubt, much easier to use than quills. Jeonghan is Jeonghan, don’t take him too seriously or you might actually punch him in the face. Much like he expected, his false observation is pointed out by the girl sitting right alongside him in this train stall almost immediately after it leaves his mouth, the Slytherin has always had too much fun bothering the school’s sweetest girl who just so happened to be cursed with world’s biggest puppy eyes.
It wasn’t friendly like this back then, though. No, not even close.
These two despised each other with a burning passion, well, Jeonghan did; for the far majority of this nemesis thing, the hate was very much one-sided. Coming from an insanely racist family definitely rubbed off on him and when his academic life expectations were ruined by the fact that the entire school seemed completely in love and constantly in awe of that stupid muggle girl, he decided right there to make her life a living hell. 
Which he succeeded in doing, kind of. Her life was surely miserable when around him but she didn’t seem to care about their relationship as soon as she was with her friends, housemates, just anyone at all, Jeonghan felt invisible at times, and it infuriated him to no end. Last year was the worst era for sure. The bitterness had been going on for so long, they were both exhausted and having to work together on an astronomy assignment was the last straw, so out of nothing but pure rage; they settled on an alliance for long enough to finish that thing. But it didn’t end there, of course it didn’t, they continued talking even after the assignment, they weren't friends then, absolutely not, but they started interacting like normal students for once, asking for notes, doing small talk every little in a while.
Their push and pull habits never truly died, but it wasn’t out of hate now, they were clearly having fun with this whole enemies till death tell us apart game. So much fun in fact, Jeonghan spent his entire break missing their banter like he was going crazy. It didn’t even cross his mind that he would think about that girl after the year ended, but oh, boy, did he do it.
 Maybe that was the reason they were going together in the same train stall for the first time in all of these years they’ve known each other, maybe Jeonghan lied and his friend’s stall isn’t full like he said it was, maybe he just missed his shiny eyed sweet girl, maybe.
September, 12 
— Do you have any interests other than being the center of attention? — she asks, it’s a fair question. The walk in between classes always brings out the worst out of everyone, huh? — I like pissing you off sometimes — Jeonghan answered.
Watching that cute little face transform into an annoyed and tired one never fails to make the Slytherin feel a rush of pride, he just adores it, he just adores her — Can you answer seriously at least once? Instead of being a lil bitch? Perhaps? It’s that too difficult for you? — she said imitating the tone he usually used to brother her, school’s sweetest girl being a bully, who would’ve thought. 
— Woah, woah, woah, I've been nothing but condescending and mean to you and this is how you treat me? — Jeonghan grabs his chest dramatically, his expression telling any bypassers that this man has never, in his entire life , felt as offended as he’s feeling right now — Come on now, puppy, it’s this a way you should treat a dear friend?
There it is, the classic Jeonghan urge to frustrate his pretty girl for no reason at all.
— Keep talking and I'll poison your food — the Slytherin chuckled at the threat — You wouldn’t be able to even if you tried, you’re not allowed in herbology class without the presence of a teacher — he pointed out without missing a beat — How do you still remember that? — she asks incredulously. I was made for you, of course I remember, the bastard thought to himself.
Like always, Jeonghan regretted coming to class the very second the professor opened his mouth, choosing to busy himself with going through his girl’s notes instead. They were mostly doodles or borderline intelligible for him, her handwriting was neat but her logic? Questionable, to say the least. But he loved reading whatever she wrote anyways, getting a little too happy whenever he found anything evolving his name or a silly doodle of his face. Once every twenty or so minutes he’d get distracted by her side profile instead, this was the only class where they sat together, so he shamelessly stared at her every time. For just a second, she looked back and smiled, as warm as the sun. He felt strange, he felt like a child again, liking her felt rather lovely, but did she like him too? 
October, 18 
It’s a tradition at this point, students of all houses gathering together in secret to play quidditch in their pajamas every friday night. Organization is barely existent, rules? Optional. This whole thing is a mess, it really is one of the worlds most confusing mysteries on how the teachers haven't found out about this yet(They have, but they pretend they haven’t because it’s the only time all students get fairly along with each other)
Mingyu begging Seungkwan to be the judge just off the chance that possibly, on a day where Kwan felt extremely nice, he could cut him some slack(it has never happened). Watching them from a far was arguably nicer, Jeonghan thought; sitting isolated from all of the other students with his trusty Hufflepuff by his side, both sat there in comfortable silence, this one was new for them.
— What bad music have you been listening to these days, ugly thing? — he inquires, as nice and cordial as always — Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy? — she answered staring daggers into his face, oh, if only Yoon Jeonghan was as unbothered and cool as he pretends to be, maybe then he could stop the way his heart pathetically races at the sound of her voice. 
— I always wanna know what’s going on up that little head, it’s usually just air, but sometimes we get lucky, don’t we? — the Hufflepuff rolls her eyes at his statement while the asshole who said it only grins — I could put on some songs I've been listening to, if your highness so desires — she suggests, and Jeonghan isn’t one to say no to his pretty thing. 
It started off with a soft guitar melody, much like most of the songs she listened to.
Depollute me, pretty baby
Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream
The girl always had a type for softer sounding things, for gentle things, it made  Jeonghan feel unsure of himself at times. How could the sweetest girl in the school like the company of such a bitter guy?
Oh, dilute me, gentle angel
Water down what I call being grateful
Was it normal? Was this how things should be? What even were they at this point? Acquaintances? Partners in crime? Friends? 
Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me
Not to take me home
The school year had barely started and Jeonghan could swear he was balding from stress since week 2, why is he acting like this? Why is he sitting far from his friends and housemates just to spend “alone time” with the girl he swore he hated less than a year ago?
It was simple, it was sweetness
It was good to know
There were many things in this world that the Slytherin would never agree to admit. He refused to believe in just how fast his mind changed from last year. Everything happened too fast and I couldn’t see it coming, that’s why I didn’t stop it; is what the man in question kept telling himself, clearly because is the truth and nothing but the truth, clearly NOT because he could never bring himself to terms with the fact that he has always looked at the “stupid muggle girl” in the very same way he’s looking right now.
You look perfect, you look different
I don't wonder about your indifference
— Spending time with you is giving me brain damage — he speaks up, for no reason other than to listen to the sound of her laughter, which works — Don’t blame me for your psychosis — the hufflepuff answers while giggling.
If I said you could never touch me
You'd come over and say I looked lovely
She yawned and stretched her arms out, arching her back, as graceful as a swan. It’s that feeling again.
Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me
Not to make me cry
He lies down on the concrete, both hands behind his head.
It was simple, you are sweetness
Let's just sit a while
She lies with him.
Depollute me, gentle angel
And I'll feel the sickness less and less
The night was beautiful, birds flying through the dark sky, he could hear his friends playing quidditch in the distance, his pretty little thing resting her head on his shoulder as they lay on the cold floor and watch the stars. It felt gentle, it felt nice, it felt perfect. He knows they won’t talk about this tomorrow.
Come and kiss me, pretty baby
Like we'll never have sex
Friends shouldn’t make each other feel like this.
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October, 29
— I’m just saying, it’s a Sunday evening — Jeonghan felt like getting to the point of his argument after rambling for about 20 minutes on end — And? — she inquired, eyes still on her book, which made the Slytherin close his own, he hasn’t read a single word ever since he opened his mouth, just using his habit of reading as another cheap excuse to spend the night in the library with his lovely friend — We could do something else, you know… — he suggested, knowing damn well this isn’t going anywhere, his girl did not play about her poetry books. 
— Like what? — she engaged, also aware of the fact this is a one way street — Literally anything else, maybe have dinner somewhere — he slouched against the hardwood chair — Dinner? The thing that killed Jesus? — her answer received nothing but a very judgmental look from a very judgmental Jeonghan who didn’t stay quiet about his discontent for long, like always — You’re such a disaster — he says averting his gaze to anywhere else so she couldn’t clock the painfully obvious heart eyes he was giving her.
— Why do you spend so much time here anyways? — after about 32 seconds of nice and peaceful silence, he asked again — Reading is fun, even if it’s reading about being a loser — the Hufflepuff responded already setting the terrain herself so Jeonghan couldn’t have the pleasure of calling her out on only reading melancholic books.
— We could never live together — the Slytherin states as if it isn’t the only future he could fathom to imagine — What if our books got mixed in the bookshelf? I might have a heart attack. Imagine receiving visits and have them wrongfully assume that I read poetry? I would rather die — anybody from a mile away can tell this man has thought about this very scenario way too much for his own good — And yet you’re the perfect amount of dramatic and pretentious to be a poet yourself — every once in a while he would notice that she talked like a book, he hated it, it was better when she talked like an chronically online alien who’s only life mission is to make sure he has at least one bad day a week.
Jeonghan, ever the most mature student of Hogwarts, sticked his tongue out in his friend’s direction, which was answered with the exact same action back at him — What are you even reading, ugly? 
— The world’s wife, by Carol Ann Duffy — at the end of that day, after his pretty girl had already left to her dorm, for the first time in history; Yoon Jeonghan rented a book from the library.
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November, 1
Looking at her made him feel all sorts of things, even from across the room. From an overwhelming sense of warmth just by watching his little flower engage in silly conversations with her friends after she’s done writing down notes to erratic heartbeats and goosebumps when she catches him staring and tilts her head, looking at him just like a confused puppy while mouthing “why are you staring?”. She made him feel all sorts of feelings he wishes he didn’t fall victim to, all sorts of fantasies he wished he didn’t understand, but Jeonghan was no saint, especially when it came to his little angel. 
There were only two things in his mind today, which was an improvement in comparison to yesterday when there was only one, i’ll let you guess what it was, but right now there were two; 1. The argument with Josh, and 2. Her.
Jeonghan isn’t one to hold grudges against those he loves the most, as a trickster himself; he isn’t used to taking things personally, but Joshua… Joshua had gone too far. Just when the Slytherin was ready to finally pour his heart out to somebody who he deeply trusted and loved and open up about his feelings, he was met with the most terrible response! It just wouldn’t leave his head…
— She’s perfect for me, everything about her is perfect, I think about her all of the time and it’s messing me up — Jeonghan pathetically went on and on for what could’ve been anywhere from 30 min to 2 hours, poor boy was just so confused about the simplest of feelings — And the obvious conclusion to take away from this situation is…? — his Gryffindor friend tried helping — She’s ruining my life — and it didn’t work — You’re in love, you stupid idiot — so Josh decided to be a little more direct. He was right, like always, but that didn’t stop Jeonghan from sulking the whole entire night. 
It was infuriating, what even happened to him? All it took was a pair of shining eyes and sweet smile and he’s completely done for? It’s not like the guy in question ever was the kind of student who engaged in class or was interested in anything the teachers had to say at all, but this is another level, it annoyed him to no end. That stupid girl just held his mind and all of his thoughts in her hands as if it was nothing, that stupid girl with her stupid unique personality and her stupid hauntinly beautiful face and her stupid cute outfits and the stupid boy who could not take her out of his stupid brain. 
He left a letter at her desk after class, she would only find it the next morning while he was two classes away from being interrogated about said letter. 
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November, 15
Hogsmeade was full to the brim, but somehow, this moment felt very intimate. 
Maybe it was the alcohol in their systems, maybe it was the casual way they didn’t even consider sitting with their housemates before claiming the little table by the window just for themselves, maybe it was the way they were both sitting while leaning completely forward, chins resting on their arms, faces just a few inches away while yapping away the end of exams season, it felt childish, it felt nice, it felt sweet. 
— You don’t think I'm manly? — Jeonghan questioned as if this was about to become his villain origin story — You’re manly… Just in a peacock kinda of way — she answered giggling like there was no tomorrow, he loved everything going on here. Her flushed little face decorated with a big grin, her nose crunching up everytime she smiled, her voice slightly louder and whinier because of the alcohol, the slurred way her words came out sometimes, it was all perfect.
— Can I tell you something, puppy? — he whispers, knowing he isn’t anywhere near drunk enough to not remember this tomorrow, he doesn’t really care — There’s nothing in this place that I adore more than you.
He watched in awe as her eyes grew so much bigger, lips forming a little pout of shock, that specific cartoonish surprised look she always had when anything happens while she’sdrunk, looking both sides before leaning in and going “Really?” which is immediately followed by a little giggle.
In moments like this the Slytherin swears there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have his girl all to himself, nobody else deserves this view. Isn’t all of this desire so ugly? Isn’t all this wanting so gross? Isn’t it all his? Just the thought of leaving Hogwarts and never seeing his pretty little thing again was enough to give him a full body shiver followed by an ever so present nauseous feeling.
 — If I have to remember you for longer than I've known you, I might lose my mind a little — Jeonghan mindlessly admitted, a sly smile slowly makes its way in his friend’s face — Don’t you think you already lost it? — she asks.
— Maybe a little.
December, 24
— Won’t your friends be worried? Do they know or did not even tell them? — Jeonghan questions while trying to look at everything everywhere all at once. It was his first time spending Christmas night in the muggle realm, he wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was — Why wouldn’t I tell them we’re going out? — the Hufflepuff answers his question with a question — As far as I remember they were very defensive about you becoming friends with big, bad Jeonghan, have they moved on from that? — his question only got him a smack on the arm.
— They haven’t cared about that for a while now, and you interrupted me! Again! — she stated before angrily letting go of his hand, which she had been holding so they wouldn’t go far from each other and get lost, yeah… that was definitely the only reason — My sincere apologies, your highness — not taking her attitude for granted, the Slytherin quickly holds her cold hand into his own much bigger one, it was ironic in a way, the Hufflepuff who’s body is always cold and the Slytherin who’s body is always warm — Now I don’t wanna talk anymore — apparently, she didn’t accept his apology, but didn’t let go of his hand either. 
Jeonghan wasn’t sure if it was his sick mind making him hear things, but he could swear that as time went on, the sweetest girl in Hogwarts had become more and more of a brat, just for him tho. Maybe he was a bad influence. 
— Go on, keep talking about the anime girl with the blue hair, I'm listening — did he understand most of what she was talking about? No. But she was happy to share her thoughts about Hatsune Miku’s new song, so really, who was he to say no? For all Jeonghan cares she could break his brain in two, it was only ever hers to mess with anyways.
Walking through the local christmas market was much more pleasant then the pureblood snob would ever imagine or admit, but she could tell that he was having a great time, and that was enough for both of them. Jeonghan has always had a terrible case of resting bitch face, so she really couldn't give less of her mind to anybody who stared at them weirdly, the Slytherin himself barely even noticed, too focused on this cozy new place.
They ate good food, took pictures with her digital camera, petted some strays here and there, it was a perfect evening. And just when they thought things couldn’t get any better…
— Come on, it’s not that deep — the bastard insisted while dragging his pretty thing along his arm to some bar’s doorstep, there was a mistletoe there — Is it not that deep or do you just want to kiss me? — the Hufflepuff teased, her flushed face betraying the casual tone she spoke in.
Finally at the bar, they stood there. Jeonghan, with that infuriating little grin in his stupidly beautiful face, looking down at his friend who had her arms crossed in front of her chest the second they arrived, looking back at him with the an annoyed expression and an angry little pout that forced him to resist, with all of his might, to the overwhelming urge to melt directly to the floor.
— That’s for me to know, — he said pulling his doll into his arms, a hand going up to her face to make sure no stubborn hairs got in the way of the moment — And for you to wonder.
Much to Jeonghan’s surprise, maybe he really wasn’t the manly one in this relationship after all. Because when the Hufflepuff straight up yanked him by the collar of his jacket to meet his lips, he could swear that he was made to be manhandled by a pretty girl. Ever the profissional, he relaxed into their kiss almost immediately, holding the back of her head firmly in his hands so he could take some control.
It was just as good as he imagined it would be, pillowy lips massaging his own, his puppy just so pliantly allowing his tongue to explore, it was sugar sweet and addicting. 
Maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was a blessing, the girl wasn’t exactly sure while she was getting dragged around for the entire two and a half they spent going around in the christmas market. The sly prick just couldn’t control himself, whenever he saw a mistletoe, it was time. Jeonghan was so obvious, he started actually tricking her into thinking he was just interested in places. He would look around, engage in conversation with the sellers, get some nice food then the second they were about to leave, he would just pull her towards a certain spot, his girl already giggling and whining about getting tricked again. These two lost count of how many mistletoes they used to their advantage in just some hours, but at last, it was time to go. 
Surprisingly, Jeonghan wasn’t really nervous about spending the night in his friend’s apartment, they have gotten extremely close after all. The thing bothering him was something else. 
He wore some white t-shirt and fluffy pajama pants she found somewhere in the depths of her closet, probably due to a friend forgetting them. She was wearing a leopard print shirt and some black fluffy shorts, he loved the way she dressed much more than he could handle, it was too cute for him to handle. Their pajamas were the comfiest things they’ve ever worn in each other’s presence, you can only be so casual in School.  
After whining about who got to choose what they watch before sleeping, they settled in any Netflix cliche christmas movie because of how often she made fun of the scripts in those movies, and she was right, they could’ve played a cliche movie bingo and checked all of the places before the movie hit the 40 minute mark. 
Of course the film in question was nothing more than some background sound to their yapping session, what else could it be? Their conversations just flowed so easily, each topic and scenario just slipping through their fingers, eventually they got to the best part, talking about the people they both hate. At first it was the usual; “How long do you think that friend group is going to last?” and “Do you think that couple is going to get back together?” then it eventually turned into; “Do you think your friend group will last a long time?” and “How long do you think it will take before we miss our professors?” and…
— What are you gonna do after Hogwarts? — the Hufflepuff asks innocently, causing a mental turmoil to burst in Jeonghan’s head. He snaps before even thinking, and it’s probably for the best.
— What are we gonna be after Hogwarts? — the air caught in her throat was almost visible, the way her breathing got heavy, the way her eyes seemed to wander even though she didn’t break eye contact, this was a difficult conversation to have. After this they’ll either come out of this apartment as partners or as strangers, it was a tough pill to swallow. 
— We don’t ever talk about it, we don’t ever dare bring it up but we both know what’s going on, don’t we? The year is ending, flower — he had that look in his eyes, that look he had at hogsmeade, she wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, but there it was again. Jeonghan had never looked so soft, in some oversized t-shirt and fluffy zebra print pajama pants she would never witness him wearing in any other situation, his hair as soft as ever, strands romantically sitting in front of his face as he reaches a hand to hold her cheek, the most gentle touch.
— I know we started this just messing around, we’ve been messing around since last year and it felt nice, it was fun, it was new and becoming closer was so rewarding that we just couldn’t stop it — he recalls the beginning of their alliance — But it’s not so light anymore, is it, dear? The tension became too much, I know you think about me too, I know you feel me it too — he spoke his heart out, voice as soft as the look in his eyes, all of the words that have been drowning him for the past few months were finally bubbling to the surface — I wanna stop it, we played around and it was fun but I need something solid now, I need to know where we go after this is over — he kept going, his eyebrows furrowing as his breathing got more erratic. 
— We don’t have all of the time in the world so I need you to be honest with me right now — Jeonghan leaned in, he could almost see all of her thoughts and emotions right on those shiny eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, in all of this time; his sweet girl had never changed, but unknowingly, she changed him. 
— Do you want me too? — the Slytherin asks.
A rushed “i need you too” was the last thing he could process before the Hufflepuff was yanking his face into a heated kiss, hugging his neck so she could sit on his lap, Jeonghan was in heaven. 
His pretty girl softly pulling his hair to make him gasp into her mouth, his hands trying to be everywhere before he settled on holding her hips to keep her from moving too much. His sweet girl was a little too desperate for his taste. Why were her panties completely soaked and sticking to her core when he finally dipped his hand into her shorts? Was she getting hot and bothered the entire night and just taking it instead of asking for his help? — Own, did I leave my baby waiting for too long? My poor lil thing… — the motherfucker spoke up as condescending as always, only causing her to whine as he teasingly cupped her warmth through the moist underwear — Don’t worry, puppy. You know I’ll make it up to you — and “make up” he did.
As soon as the bastard found her bedroom, it was game on. At this point they’re unsure of how much time have gone by, one arm holding her waist firmly in place on her plush bed while the other held one of her legs up so he could have more access to the little pussy he spent so long dreaming about, he needed to eat his girlfriend out properly, let her know he’s the one for her, that no one would do it better than him, even if his efforts make his jaw hurt like crazy the next morning.
Jeonghan was having the time of his life, hearing her soft voice turning into a higher pitch whenever she whined about him teasing for too long, that she was ready to take him. And of course, being as annoying as ever, he couldn’t let the humiliation be just that, no, he made her repeat it every time — What was that, doll? — he looks up as if her sweet moans interrupted his holy feast, his chin soaked with her juices, his lips glistening with her honey, this view could kill — I need you, Jeongie… — she finally had the strength to answer, making the devil grin. 
He had no intentions of stopping, no, he needed that little cunt on his face until he suffocated. The bastard kept going after the first, the second and for a miracle, the third orgasm was his last straw, and even though he could devour his stupid girl right there… — My pretty baby did so well for me, didn’t she? — he gave her a much deserved break before getting down to finish their business. 
It felt as though there was nothing else in the world, nothing other than them. Passionate slow kisses, arms cradling one another as their hands caressed each other’s bodies, this moment could last all of eternity and neither culprit would complain, not even once. Feeling his hard on pressing against her thighs was driving the Hufflepuff a little bit insane, tucking on his waistband made her mouth feel awfully empty.
The Slytherin didn’t even remember that being hard was so damn painful, a soft touch of her hands on his crotch was enough to make him hiss, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together, the sight was pretty enough to make one cry, he’s was just such a beautiful boy, how could she not want to have him in her mouth? — Please, please, pleas-
— You don’t have to — he tried shushing her, not wanting his baby to do any work — Want to… Wanna make you feel good, Jeongie… — that whiny tone made his knees buckle quickly, mind racing far too fast for him to stop himself before just sitting back on his knees and letting his pretty girl have her way with him.
For someone who was in full control just fifteen minutes ago, Jeonghan surely sounded like a bitch in heat. Biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood but letting go before it happens so he can moan like a whore just before the pleasure becomes too much and causes him to throw his head back, looking at his girl was too much to ask from him, everything was too much. Looking just so pretty trying her hardest to fit his thick base into her mouth, not paying any mind to all of the gagging, working so hard to please her Hannie, he could bust just from this fact alone, the man was losing it. 
His appreciation for her hard work did not go unappreciated for long, not when he got his doll on all fours for him, shoulders pressing down on the mattress while he pounded that pussy into another dimension not even ten minutes after getting the head of his life. The squeaking of the bed, the sound of skin slapping, the begging for more whenever he grabbed her hair roughly and used it as a leash to pull her body into his, his chest pressing against her back while he praised his pretty thing for being “such a good puppy for him, taking all of his cum”, only for the moans to go louder when he slammed her face back into the bed, the soft squelchy sound coming from where their bodies kissed, the music in this room was Jeonghan’s favorite. 
These two were wild animals for a long time, their muscles would most definitely feel their efforts tomorrow, but right now, after having the best orgasms of their lives, the lovebirds were in absolute peace, staying in the bed for much longer than expected after sex; just holding each other, just loving each other. After a nice shower, a change of sheets and some instant ramen, tho? Ready to go to sleep, if anything; desperate to go to sleep. Jeonghan felt a slight shift on the bed alongside him, he could feel his preciosity leaving his grasp just before he succumbed to the tiredness of his bones, he reluctantly opened his eyes; she’s on her phone? 
— Did I fuck you so good that you’re writing poetry? — he asks, it’s a fair question — Shut up, Slytherin — the Hufflepuff answers just before hitting send message into her groupchat, telling her friends everything they could possibly need to know about the past two hours or so with just 11 words.
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voidoffline · 2 days ago
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I haven’t lost an eye, tho I did go several months not seeing out of one eye (I kept it closed because in a stroke of stupidity I thought it would help me see better since I have double vision. It just made my eyes and that eye specifically a million times worse-)
And I noticed the neck thing so quickly. Like it was pretty easy for me to adjust (just because I’m good at adjusting to shit Idk) and even though I had no pain then, it was crazy noticing how different things were. Like I walked differently, I always kept to one side of people so I could see them better, I kept bumping my hands into things because of how closing my right eye fucked up my hand eye coordination
And when I finally opened my eye again, after so long of keeping it closed - mostly because at that point my eye had weakened and it was difficult to open it - shit got more colorful. Like I could tell the difference between how much color I was seeing. I doubt a character would go through that - but like if you’re writing a character that’s gotten some surgery done or something and had to wear a patch for a while, well, I think I at least would probably include them realizing things are just a bit more colorful after they take the patch off for the first time
Also rip my neck during the time I closed my eye for months. So much soreness and pain. I am so sorry past neck, I apologize. I was stupid
Also for the last thing ‘thehungwizard’ mentioned - it’s really like that for everything. So when your writing a character with any sort of disability or lack of a sense, keep that in mind. Like I don’t have a sense of smell and people constantly forget that I can’t spell things. I know that’s a lot less drastic and technically a lot less important than a whole eye, but still, the basis is that other ppl forget (no hate on others tho)
I’ve also experienced what op said in #6. It’s wild. And a bit annoying
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
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spacexgrl · 3 days ago
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Bittersweet ! 🎀
mdni <3 you’re here pt 2
series masterlist 💋
~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~
ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader
college au!
warnings: angst, break up, cheating!!, cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!
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You watched as Ellie stuffed her duffel bag with all her clothes out of your shared closet, at least you’d have more space for new clothes, you’ll definitely do some online shopping later to cheer yourself up.
You’ve stopped crying at this point, you decided that Ellie’s not worth your tears right now she doesn’t deserve to see you in this state, you won’t let her have it. Instead you wiped your heavy tears away and tried to stay calm … at least until she left.
Ellie shifted from her kneeling position as she finished packing her things up, she was ready to leave. She tried to get close to you one last time, a poor attempt to initiate a hug which you declined with taking a step back. What the fuck was that?? you thought, she couldn’t stop making this more awkward than it already was.
“I just want you to know that.. i want to try to be friends i can’t throw away everything we went through and i hope you feel the same way..maybe not now but one day ”
Her voice broke mid sentence, but you wanted to laugh in her face. You just threw away everything we had you asshole is what you wanted to say but you bit your tongue.
You wanted to scream at her
i did everything for you! I did everything to make you happy, i gave you my all and you did fucking nothing! Why couldn’t you end things sooner huh? Fucking coward all you did was waste my time and efforts Ellie, fuck i hope you’re happy fucking Dina every night just like you did on your little studying sessions.
“i know you probably hate me and i’m really sorry i just…fuck i fell in love with her you know? I didn’t meant to i swear i-“
She went on and on with her rambling, stopping when she noticed you weren’t listening to her bullshit anymore. All she said was that Dina was better than you, you got it like 20 minutes ago fuck.
“Goodbye Ellie”
at this point you pushed her out of the doorframe, she pleaded you to let her say goodbye properly whatever the fuck that means. You didn’t wanna find out. Ellie was still so immature in the head..poor girl will never know what she wants. Yeah that was probably it you tried to make sense of the situation but it was just stupid. It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t love you the way you deserved, it wasn’t your fault that she needed to ruin what you’ve built for some short term fun.. you were her first kiss, her first time, her first love her first everything.
You guess her thirst for new experiences won against years of loving each other.
You remembered meeting Ellie when you were little, she’d always get into fights with kids that were mean to you on the playground. She was your hero and you believe that you loved her from the very beginning. She’d talk your ear off about space, dinosaurs and how she wanted to become an astronaut when she grows up and you believed in her, you always did.
The day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, Ellie introduced you to her Father, Joel. It was such a beautiful day you got along so well and he absolutely loved you. You were convinced that you were going to marry Ellie one day…how wrong you were.
Once Ellie was accepted into college you were the first one to know but Ellie.. Seattle is so far away.. you were so happy for her but you weren’t made for a long distance relationship. I know but.. i want to get into Aerospace engineering and it’s the best place for that babe.. come with me? Please?
just like that you applied for your dream major and got accepted in no time. You wished things would’ve gone differently..
You shrugged off the memories that were floating in your head as you plopped on your king sized bed, face down on your fluffy pillows. You groaned loudly and forced yourself up against the bed frame, grabbing your phone you left on the nightstand.
Mindlessly scrolling through instagram you stumbled across a picture of her.
It was a mirror selfie in a free weights section of some gym..she was in a tight competition shirt and grey sweats, boxers peeking out just a tiny bit as she flexed her big beefy arms..god you could almost count the muscles on her stomach.
Her blonde locks were tied in a loose braid, little strands framing her freckled face..okay that’s enough you thought as you clicked on her profile taking in every picture her hands are so big you bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together without even noticing has Abby Anderson always been this hot??
Of course she has..straight A student biology major scholarship basketball team captain daughter of one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the state Abby Anderson
Ellie never told you about her feud with her..she just told you to stay away from her at all costs. Babe it doesn’t matter just ignore her trust me she’s no good..i fucking hate her guts is what you recall her saying after Abby greeted you in the hallway like one time.
Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you accidentally liked one of her newest stories oh no no no fuck!! you panicked and threw your phone on your bed far away from you.
ding!
ding!
ding!
please be Ellie you prayed to god that it was Ellie hoping she left something important behind but you were wrong.. maybe you should just end it all now…
after contemplating your entire life for about 5 minutes you dared to click on Abby’s messages
hey doll
heard about your breakup.. Ellie’s a dick anyway lol
want me to cheer you up?
🎀
pt 3
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threeacttragedy · 2 days ago
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Entry 2 – The One About the Likes
As you will soon figure out, I will be bouncing around from topic to topic. It will all be Lukola-related, of course, but the information and speculation I discuss may not be in any particular order. However, I will add in dates of reference to help organize your thoughts.
In my first post, I mentioned our three fan-types. Because this is only my second entry, I will touch on them again.
The Sincerely Ignorant are those that follow blindly. We all know a Sincerely Ignorant. If you’re the type of person who spirals uncontrollably at the hint of bad news, I’m sorry to tell you this, you’re likely a Sincerely Ignorant. But, don’t run! I want to help calm you the fuck down.
The Conscientiously Stupid are the people who push a narrative without considering other evidence being provided to them. We’re all Conscientiously Stupid from time to time, but this category – at least in my blog – is typically reserved for the Jakholes, the A-Holes, the Anti-Lukes, and now apparently the Anti-Nics. That’s not to say Lukolas are not also Conscientiously Stupid. We are human after all.
The Fact Finders are those that collect information and share it. They may speculate on it, but they do not manipulate it. We simply argue our case and provide the evidence in support of our arguments.
Now jumping into what I wanted to discuss today –
The likes.
The motherfucking likes on Instagram.
My disclaimer today: I am only discussing the likes between Nicola and Luke in this post; however, I will use a third party to put things into perspective. This is intentional. The “adjacent” (I hate that word, by the way) likes are a separate post all on their own – but I’ll summarize it for you because, on the surface (speculation aside), it’s quite black and white. Jake likes Nicola’s posts; Nicola likes Jake’s posts; Antonia likes Luke’s posts; Luke likes Antonia’s posts. Let the meltdowns begin.
Done?
Okay. Back to the likes between Nicola and Luke…
It’s the same old song and dance.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Nicola post to her grid.
Jake likes it within a small timeframe.
Luke – maybe he likes it, maybe he doesn’t.
The Conscientiously Stupid attack and the Sincerely Ignorant spiral. And the Fact Finders take a deep breath and prepare themselves to walk the Sincerely Ignorant back on board the USS Lukola. I’m mean, it’s exhausting for everyone.
Do Luke’s likes really matter? No, in most instances, they don’t.
Do Jake’s likes really matter? Same as above! No, in most instances, they don’t.
Let’s take Nicola’s BFF JVN for example. He usually likes Nicola’s posts, right? In fact, some days, he’s just as fast as Jake. And, what about Dylan Brady? Talk about a friend who puts an instant-like on Nicola’s posts! And, another thing – both JVN and Dylan have been known to repost Nicola’s stuff to their own stories. However, no one cares about that or considers any of these “side characters” because they’re not Luke or Jake. I get it. But, let’s consider a few things.
First, JVN has liked most of Nicola’s posts except for the “NY Rats” one [which I will not speculate about right now]. But, let’s use the “NY Rats” post as a reference point. Nicola posted that October 17. Did you know that JVN has posted 14 times on his own grid since then? And, did you know that Nicola has only liked two of those 14? Holy shit, they must despise each other, right? Or, is it more likely that (a) Nicola is busy or (b) so close to JVN she doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of his posts? Now, I want you to answer this question with all honesty: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Nicola’s relationship with JVN? If you answered yes, why?
Now let’s consider this next part, which is in the same vein as the above. Did you know that Nicola has liked most of Luke’s grid posts? Did you know that out of the last 14 posts made by Nicola to her grid, Luke has only liked eight? That’s barely over half (but, hey, better than Nicola’s average with JVN!). If you go back even further, you’ll find this is Luke’s modus operandi. He doesn’t like every goddamn post Nicola throws up.  Even throughout the World Tour, he wasn’t liking all of Nicola’s posts. Did this bother you then? Is it possible Luke is (a) not that into social media, (b) busy, or (c) so close to Nicola he doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of her posts? Let me ask you the same question I asked above: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Luke’s relationship with Nicola? If you answered yes, why?
Okay, I’m going to assume some people are bothered by this Luke-Like bit so let’s keep discussing it for a moment.
Did you know that since January 1, 2024, Nicola has made nine IG grid posts that relate to a political viewpoint? Did you know that Luke has only liked one of those nine posts? In fact, I was quite shocked that Luke liked Nicola’s October 15 post of her Time100 speech (if you haven’t watched her speech, it’s on her IG grid). In my opinion, Luke liking this post is far more significant than Luke liking, say, her third grid post about her Time cover. He’s seemingly agreeing with her political stance.
This was a change in modus operandi. A small change, indeed, but interesting.
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njm63522 · 2 days ago
Text
Sevika fluff alphabet
word count: 2027
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A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
- personally, I think she'd often indulge in taking you to the last drop. She often has you propped up on her lap while she laughes at the men gambling away their life savings (she likes to call you her lucky charm)
- honestly, she'd be willing to take you anywhere though. Just as long as everyone knows you're hers. She'll keep a hand in your back pocket as you guys walk around the city and she'll give nasty looks to whatever man decides to even glance your way.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
- SHE LOVES YOUUUUU omg.
-she literally admires every part of your body. She would rather choke and die then have to pick a favorite.
- and she LOVESS to pick you up. You think you're too heavy? Don't flatter yourself. Not for her you're not.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
- I Hate to be that guy, but I don't think she would be the best at comforting. With words atleast.
-she'll probably give you a nice hug or a pat on the back. But if you start crying, she'll literally freeze and give you an awkward "you alright..?"
-it's not that she doesn't care, she's just bad at showing how much she does care.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
- living in a place like Zaun, where the future is so unpredictable and anyone could die at any moment. She just wants keep things in the present and not think about the future.
-If it were up to her, she would take you far away from all they chaos and just grow old together
-but that may never happen. so for now, she just wants to see you alive in the future.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
- she's definitely more on the dominant side, she's the one wrapping a hand around your waist in public and mean mugging everyone who dares look at you the wrong way
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
-if you guys end up fighting, it'd most likely be about her work
-weather it's how long she's gone during the day, or how she always comes back with curs and bruises. You guys always find a way back to eachother
If you're the one who apologizes:
She gives you a stupid ass grin, she knew she was right. She definitely wouldn't rub it in your face or anything. But she will be a bit smug about it
If she's the one to apologize:
-She'll be extremely sheepish, it's almost laughable how she's reduced to a stuttering mess when she's the one apologizing.
-I really dont think she'd be the best with words, so she'd just trap you in a tight hug and mutter an apology into your ear.
-if you don't accept her apology— worse, reject her hug. She'll be so confused and lost, giving you big ol' puppy eyes while she uses her words to express how sorry she is.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
-once again, SHE LOVES YOUUUU
-i don't think there's enough words to explain how happy she is to have you.
-sometimes, when the sun is just beginning to rise and she's dreading the long workday ahead of her. shell spend just a little while longer in bed admiring your sleeping frame. shed never admit it, but on mornings like those, she thanks her lucky stars to have you sleeping next to her.
-she was never a religious person, but she thanks god that she has you next to her every night.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
-she wouldn't hide anything from you, she believes that the only way to have a good relationship is to be fully open and transparent, even if that leads to you a tad bit oversharing.
-there are some details she may not be able to share because of her work. but 9/10 times, shell tell you anyways because she loves you or whatever
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
-she would NEVER admit it, but you changed her for the better.
-she's definitely gotten soft ever since you guys started dating. getting in less fights with strangers, going out to gamble less.
-just overall spending more time with you, and not in the chaos of Zaun.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
-she gets jealous so easily omg. she wont even hesitate to beat up strangers on the street just for looking at you the wrong way.
-god forbid a man tries to FLIRT with you?
-youd have to ask her to stop before she literally killed the poor guy.
-ever since that incident, everyone at the bar knows to stay far away from you.
K iss - Are they a good kisser?
-shes definitely an experienced kisser. she's been with many women before getting with the love of her life (you)
-her kisses are rough, almost always leaving you breathless and desprate for more.
-shell tangle one hand in your hair, and use the other one to pull you closer by the waist URGG
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
-like i said previously, she's not the best with her words, so shed probably just approach you in the bar after watching (and lokwey stalking) you for a few months and say something like "you and me, this Friday. 5 pm. don't be late" before walking away.
-you'd show up and find her sitting alone at a table with a messy bouquet of flowers in her hand (she picked them herself)
-shed give you the flowers and spend the rest of the night trying to make conversation with a deep blush on her face. (she's such a cutie oml)
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
-this ones a bit complicated...
-shed love to take you away from that city and propose to you in a gorgeous flower field that goes on for miles.
-but something like that isn't achievable in the current state of the world
-so instead, she stares at you from across the room, dreaming about giving you everything you deserve.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
-her lucky charm (like i said before)
-baby
-i don't think shell use a lot of nicknames.. once again, not good with words.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
-im telling you right now
-she literally looks like she wants to murder you when shes crushing on you.
-remember when i mentioned her watching you from across the bar? yeah, you spent that time thinking she hated you because of the way she stared at you.
-you literally thought she was going to assault you when she came up to ask you out.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
-be prepared to have her constantly brag about you.
-if youre not sitting on her, youre sitting directly next to her with her arm around you.
-shes weird in a way that she wont tell you directly how much she loves you, but she wont shut up about it to everyone else.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
-this isnt really an ability, just more of a thing she does
-but i think shed be willing to eat ANYTHING
-its amazing the stuff her stomach can handle.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
-she loves to make you happy, but shes so SO nervous.
-she would show up to your house at 2 am with a boquet of flowers in her hand and ask if you want to hang out with her.
-shed take you shopping in topside and if you even look at something twice, shell buy it for you.
-shes lowkey useless when it comes to buying clothes because she thinks everything looks so pretty on you
"should i get the red, or the white one?"
"get both"
"but which one looks better?"
"... both?"
-shes so useless, but shes trying her best.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
-i feel like it depends on what kind of goal it is, if its something unrealistic, she would try to gently coax you into something more achievable because shed hate to see you get hurt.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
-in the chaos that is her life. you're the only thing that can remain the same. so I think shed prefer to keep routine with you. however, she wouldn't be mad if things changed from time to time, she's happy if you're happy.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
-she knows you so well. everything you've mentioned or talked about. even in passing. she's taken a mental note of.
-you could breifly mention how youre into a peice of jewerly or an article of clothing.
-and you'd find it on your bed, tied up with a little bow the next day.
-she wouldn't bring up the gift unless you say something first though, she's js nonchalant like that
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
-this woman would lay down her life for you.
-she loves you SOOOOO much
-there's not much more i can say, you're the beginning and end of her life
-and she loves you
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
hear me out. (slight s2 spoilers)
-no matter how much she pretends to hate jinx, shed bring up adopting her and isha.
-it might sound ridiculous, but shed love to be a mother one day and she basically raised jinx so why not?
-she tried to brush away the idea from her mind
-but the moment she sees you placing bowls of soup Infront of the kids (jinx and isha) reminding them to wait for it to cool down
-she finds herself thinking that she could get used to this.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
-shes such a cuddlebig omg
-the moment you guys start cuddling, she wont let go for HOURSSS
-sometimes, shell randomly lay on top of you, full starfish, and fall asleep.
-you have to accept your fate, i fear.
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
-long answer short?
-she doesnt.
-whenever she leaves for a long time, shell bring a shirt of yours just to smell it and remember it.
-it lowkey sounds creepy, but shes so lonely without you :(
the very moment she gets back, shell pratically jump on you and attack you with cuddles and kisses
-did i mention she loves you?
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
-SHELL DO ANYTHING FOR YOUUUU
-she loves you (can you tell i ran out of ideas?)
__________________________________
i finished this in one sitting, im so proud :3
requests open
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condemning-twitter · 2 days ago
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First of all, and to get things straight: I am a biological woman, identifying as a woman and also identifying as a feminist. That being said, let's break this dumpster fire down.
What can be observed in this reblog chain is a bunch of self-identifying feminists (including radfems) stopping by the Tumblr post of a MINOR. Based on Tumblr guidelines, said minor might be as young as 13 years old and based on his own post, identifies as male. Furthermore, he is outspokenly leftist (statistically speaking, he is unlikely to have the mind of a misogynist). All of these can be found out by taking so much as five minutes out of your day to do some research rather than making snarky comments.
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In his original post, OP expresses his concerns about the feminist movement and points out that man-hatred is actually counter-productive to a healthy pro women movement; And THAT is a legitimate concern and widely known issue.
While OP's message uses rough wording (to the point of other users framing his words as though he implied that the only natural response to unfair treatment is to exact unfair treatment on others) the core meaning holds true. Young children are IMPRESSIONABLE, in case you have ever wondered why young girls are so susceptible to grooming. Young boys are not deriving their behaviors from the void; they are being taught by someone. Who is that someone? Well, it depends on which group the boy in question feels most at home in.
Which one would you pick? The group that has piled or would be willing to pile roughly 100 hate reblogs on you for saying a slightly wrong thing or the group that is telling you that the other group is inherently stupid? One is invalidating you and offering an unsafe, unpredictable environment. The other is offering a validating and safe, predictable environment.
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Teens are on a search for identity and connection. This usually causes them to search and find labels and groups to identify their own person by. Perhaps it doesn't ring any bells but "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth" and this applies here as well. The group that doesn't accept you is the enemy by default. This is why misogynists WANT boys to believe that feminists are anti male or male sexists; if one group is alienating you, you are left with the groups that don't. Preferably, you will then seek out a group that validates your (perceived) experiences of alienization. And that is the first step. The rest is a pipeline. Once you have identified with a group, your mind is fertile ground for their rhetoric.
You think being mistreated is no justification for being a horrible person? Neither do I! And neither did OP. The problem is that there's a certain cause and effect at play that's driving men away from us and to misogynists like Trump and Tate. Not exclusively, but it sure fucking helps. And considering your reaction, all of you either seem oblivious to that fact or too self-absorbed in your frustrations to care.
"If mean words are turning you into Hitler 2 bla bla" rich words considering there are likely dozens of grown-ass adults piling on a minor on this post and none of them have been called out yet. But no. Bad experiences don't justify bad behavior. Surely.
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Even if the alienization is only perceived, it can- Oh wait. It is not actually just perceived, is it? Responses are ranging from "we had it worse and are justified in our anger; you are not" to hopefully sarcastic "men don't even deserve to exist" statements that cannot even be read as sarcastic because everything sounds the same on the internet.
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Anyway, even perceived alienization can change a person's political affiliation for the worse. No, this cannot always be prevented. You are not being asked to pander to anybody - you are being asked not to offer young boys to self-proclaimed "alpha men" on a silver platter.
I hate to tell you (actually, no I don't), but we are living in a society comprised of both women and men. Feminism is a joint effort and not a game of Trauma Olympics like what you guys are trying to pull.
Hating on men and claiming masculinity is evil is going to have the complete opposite effect as to what you intended.
Let me set the scene, there's a freshly 13 year old boy, he's been told his whole life that boys don't cry, boys aren't allowed to have feelings. He gets internet access, and what SHOULD be happening is that people tell him that's all wrong and of course boys should have emotions, but that doesn't happen. Instead what happens is he gets met with dozens upon dozens of people claiming men DON'T have emotions. This boy tries to fight back, he replies to a post and he says that it's not true, boys aren't evil and they can be sad and hurt sometimes. What happens? People bully him. They laugh at him for being sad, say he deserves it. They tell him all men are horrible and he's destined to be evil.
What do you think happens? Do you think he's going to put in the effort to be a good guy? Fuck no. He's going to assume that's his fate and be shitty, because he was never met with kindness and understanding, he was told his kind is automatically evil.
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ollimus-prime · 3 days ago
Note
sorry if it’s a little complicated, but maybe Megatron meeting Y/N again after so long, since having known them as D-16?
One Last Choice
A/N, not important: I don't think I got his personality right my b. If y'all have any tips or could point me towards some, I'd be forever thankful. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: Major Character Death(Reader)
Words: 1750
Summary: A final meeting with an old friend.
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You’ve been captured. At least, you think you have. Unfriendly servos were wrapped around your shoulders and hauling you across the floor with a fury you hadn’t seen in years. Although, that’s about the most you could gather from the situation. Your systems were completely out of whack. Up was down and down was up. Nothing made sense anymore. You could feel your arms bound behind your back, restricting your movement and disorienting you further. 
The only thing you could be sure of now was the pain. It radiated through your frame like the energon flowing in your lines. Your HUD was flooded with warnings, the never-ending assault of painful information suffocating you and swallowing you whole. You could barely hear, could barely see. Everything was coated in a thick static that had taken over your world. Muffled voices sounded above you as you were dragged to whatever pit you would be left to go offline. 
You try to count the steps for a moment, willing your aching processor to sputter back to life and erase the static from your every thought. It consumed you, drove out your very will and forced you to accept defeat. What were you even fighting for at this point? Your friends? Freedom?
The war had been going on for so long at this point, you weren’t sure you remembered. Optimus Prime—though you’ve never gotten used to calling him that—had tried so hard to keep everyone’s spirit alive. To keep the hope of winning strong.
You weren’t sure you’d say he’d failed, but you definitely weren’t hopeful now. No one was, not if they weren’t insane or a liar.
The impact of your face onto the ground surprised you more than you wanted to or were willing to admit. Pain floods your systems again, your vision going completely black for an awful moment. You hated to consider the option something as stupid as being dropped took you offline. You weren’t weak. You’ve proved it in the mines, on the battlefield, yet this little extra shove seemed to blow your circuits more than you liked.
The voices sound above you, muffled arguing hinting at the nature of your predicament. You grimace, letting your face fall fully against the ground. They were probably debating which one of them got to end you.
When rough hands grab at your helm, you try to fight back. Every movement felt like it’d kill you, sparks from your own fried circuitry burned your face. Then, with a painful tug at something lodged in your helm, the static lifted. You take a harsh vent as your mind clears. You felt alive again, no longer stuck in the hell that was your own mind.
You dare to lift your helm, hoping to face your captors and get in some insults before they blow your processor over the wall. Instead of the grunts you were expecting, you face the dark pedes of the mech that started it all.
“Leave us,” he orders, causing whatever soldiers who grabbed you to quickly flee the room. You wait a second, still stuck on your front with your neck painfully bent to be able to face his pedes. It would be humiliating if you were able to think properly. 
The silence stretches between you until it becomes so heavy you feel you can’t properly vent. The fans under your plating sputter and pop with each second you’re stuck on your stomach, the weight of your own frame causing you to slowly overheat. Megatron lets the silence permeate the room for a few more moments before he takes another step towards you.
Your designation rolls off his tongue so much easier than you expected it to. There was no bite to his words, no underlying bitterness or anger. You shift on the ground where you’re left, ignoring the sparks shooting from your injured shoulder plate. You stare at the monster before you, the mech you once proudly called a friend. 
His plating looked just as weary as your own, his optics dimmed and lacking anything but hatred and contempt. There was pain in his stance, a pain you felt deeply mirrored within your own frame. It was hard to see him like this, to see him as the one who killed Orion and caused him to become the Primus-chosen leader instead. You search his facial plating for any sign of the friend you once knew, the hot-tempered but easy-going miner who just wanted to get through the day with his friends.
It hurts to admit you can’t find him.
“Well,” he prompts, taking a small step towards you. The dark red of his optics burn starkly against his chrome plating, the room’s poor lighting not helping the menacing look. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I’m stuck,” you gripe, letting your forehelm touch the floor once more. You weren’t really stuck. Not truly. You weren’t being held down, and if you could gather the will power, you’d definitely be able to face him on your knees. The problem with that, however, is that you have no desire to make the effort. Whether you stood, knelt, or laid in front of him, the outcome would be the same. There was no part of you that expected to make it out of here with your helm attached to your shoulders.
“Really now,” Megatron chides, his pedes thudding against the ground as he circles you like a helpless animal. Every step makes your helm ache, the vibrations shaking your entire frame. “I always thought you were stronger than that. I’ve heard stories of your retaliation against my troops while you fight against our freedom.”
Megatron stops somewhere to the left of you, the tension growing thicker. You bristle slightly, sighing. His engine revs in anger as he regards you, examining your broken frame tossed upon his floor. “You betrayed me. You’ve betrayed Cybertron. You stood against me and chose to maintain Sentinel’s Primacy-”
“Sentinel’s dead,” you cut him off, irritated at his growing anger. “You fixed that problem. Let it go.”
“Let it go?!” He roars, grabbing the back of your frame and heaving you up. You grimace at the new pains shooting through your spinal struts, trying desperately to find leverage on the ground. “We toiled away in the mines our entire function because of him! He desecrated our bodies before we were even online! And yet you still turn to his beliefs and follow in the Primacy’s footsteps!”
Megatron stares into your face with white-hot fury, his teeth grinding against each other as he waits for you to respond. You can’t respond for a while, unsure what to say or what to do. You hesitate for too long, Megatron’s scowl growing as he throws you back onto the ground. You wheeze at the impact, optics flickering as you try to recalibrate your senses.
“You’re right,” you manage out, coughing up energon and spitting it out onto the floor. You grimace at the rancid taste, trying to clean your tongue on the roof of your mouth. He was right, in the important ways. Sentinel needed to be rid of. Sentinel’s rules needed to be changed. But that had happened, before the war between Megatron and Optimus really started. Megatron got rid of Sentinel, and Optimus got rid of his system. The only problem now was the hatred that had sprouted in the very sparks of the cybertronians.
“Excuse me?” Megatron laughs, walking closer to your limp frame. “Did my audials get miswired? Is the great major of the Autobot army agreeing with me?”
He kicks your arm, trying to get you to meet his optics. You stubbornly refuse, keeping them trained on the ceiling. “I’d never expected to see the day.”
You scoff at his words, leaning your helm back against the cool metal of the floor. “More ‘bots do than you’d expect. Your problem is how you went about it.”
“Right. Because getting the job done is such an issue.”
Megatron fumes above you, pacing next to your side again. You ignore him for the most part, beating down old feelings of warmth and safety he used to bring. He was a different bot now, and so were you. Nothing between you was there, made obvious by his clear disregard for you. You were a means to an end now, nothing but a tool to be used to further hurt Optimus and his fight for the wrong freedom.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Megatron starts again, scowling down at your hapless form. You don’t bother to respond before he starts again, his anger rising and voice growing heavier. He continues to pace, stomping around your head like it would fix all of his problems. “You say you agree with me on the fundamentals, yet you still side with the Prime. You side with the system that ground us down until we were broken and then still demanded more. Sentinel was a traitor and a liar who betrayed our kind. And you still follow his lead.”
“I follow Optimus’s lead, actually.”
The glare that comment earned you could have burnt straight through your frame, his face scrunched up and filled with more hostility than a single bot should be able to possess. His eyes glowed brighter in the dark, his face now leering over your own.
“Do not say that traitor’s name in front of me. He is the same as Sentinel. They’re all the same. True freedom won’t be accomplished until they and every single bot that dares share their ideals are dead.”
The sound of his cannon extending surprises you at first, the warm glow of death casting over your frame. You couldn’t find yourself to be scared as you stare down the barrel of the cannon. It was there, somewhere, but not enough to make you tremble nor react in any significant way. You knew this would happen eventually. Whether now or later down the line, you’d die in this petty war.
“Any last words, Autobot?” He snarls. You stare at him for a second before letting your helm fall back, refusing to show fear.
“Good-bye, D-16.”
He doesn’t wait long for you to speak before you can feel the blast burning through your chest, consuming your spark and your entire being with it. The aching pain from your frame halts, letting you be surrounded in a cold unfeeling. Your optics sputter for a moment more before shutting, letting you fall into the arms of Cybertron itself.
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socksracoon10 · 14 hours ago
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p2 where the argument turns into a makeout sesh yes or yes?
𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)
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𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: (𝘠/𝘕) (𝘓/𝘕) 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: I AM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ASKED FOR A PART 2 BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT SINCE I POSTED THE FIC YESTERDAY... anon thank you I was over here giggling and kicking my feet reading your ask... uh halfway through writing this I realized I got carried away it's MUCH longer than I intended LMFAO Read The First Part: Hit and Run
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𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.
"Hey man, next time you race try not to kill the other drivers," (Y/N) (L/N) sunk down into the P3 chair next to Sainz, who had just won the race. He glanced over at her with a scowl, clearly wanting to say some nasty things if it wasn't for the million cameras in the cooldown room. She shifted in her seat, stretching her arms as she watched the race's highlights on the screen besides her. Carlos and her both had a spectacular race, considering they had started from the bottom of the grid more or less. She knew she had the skills to get to the podium, but she was surprised at the fact that Carlos had managed to somehow win the race from nowhere. It didn't seem like his normal self and she wondered what could've motivated him to actually drive good for once.
"Next time you race, try not to be cocky and drag other drivers down," Carlos grumbled, his voice was muffled due to the rag that was currently soaking up all of the sweat on his face. She glared at him, holding an accusatory finger to the air before Max had settled down in the P2 chair. He shook Carlos's hand, before waving at (L/N). The room was silent, spare Max rambling on about what he saw during the race. As Max continued to talk, (L/N)'s eyes flickered occasionally onto Carlos, wondering what was going through his mind. She was definitely in the wrong, but her ego wouldn't handle that and she needed to tear him a new one once they were done with all the celebrations. She always hated this circuit anyway.
"She's not supposed to be here, mate," Charles giggled, jerking his thumb towards the woman that was angrily storming into Ferrari's garage. Carlos looked up from where he sat with a groan escaping his lips.
"She isn't," Carlos stood up, taking the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, "I suppose you've come to apologize for your behavior this weekend? Or last weekend? Or the many weekends before that?" "Apologize?" (L/N) snorted, rolling her eyes, "I've come to ask about what you said at the press pen!"
Charles, sensing the tension between the two, gently ushered the two into Carlos's driver's room before shutting the door. The last thing Ferrari needed after this lovely weekend was to deal with the drivers having to go through PR training once again, especially with the amount of times Carlos had been talking shit about (Y/N) (L/N). Carlos had stood by the door, arms crossed as he gestured with his hands for her to begin whatever stupid argument she had managed to pull out of her ass this time.
"You remember what you said?" She growled, and when she saw him shake his head, her nostrils flared, "You literally told the press, 'sometimes, I like to put people in the places they belong and that's precisely what I did with (L/N)', are you kidding me?"
"You should be happy," Carlos scoffed, "I could've said way worse. Besides, I was giving you a taste of your own medicine. You said after qualifying yesterday that even with a million practices, I'd still fumble."
"Yeah, because you do! You're inconsistent as hell and that's why-"
"And yet who won the race today starting behind you." Carlos interrupted her. She closed her mouth, chest heaving. Carlos could see the gears turn in her head, she was trying so hard to come up with something. He had a smug smile on his face and somehow this was more victorious than winning the Grand Prix.
"It doesn't matter if you win today or not, you won't be driving for Ferrari soon, anyway," She spat. She smirked at the way his face fell, her arms crossed with her head tilted upwards. That cocky look on her face that always drove him wild.
"You're such an asshole," Carlos seethed, and before she could respond with a snarky remark, his lips crashed onto her. His hands came to hold onto the sides of her face, pulling her as close to him as he could. He pulled away for a brief second to take a quick breath and noticed the way her eyes widened, "Did you just kiss me? Listen here buddy, I'll have you know that-" Her words died down when she noticed Carlos's eyes flicker to her lips. God, her absolute hatred for him made her forget how charming he truly was. She wouldn't admit to it, though. Not now nor ever. Right now, all they needed was to blow off this steam. She grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down to another searing kiss, eyes closed as their teeth crashed into one another. She tugged his hair and he squeezed her waist, both of them realizing that feelings may not exist at the moment, it was all about just shutting each other up.
"I hate you," She murmured before going in for another kiss.
"I hate you more," His lips attached to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that were sure to bruise her.
"Well, I hate you the most, stop trying to be better than me." She snapped in a strained voice and he groaned out loud, pulling back to stare at her,
"How much money do I have to pay for you to shut up?"
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘
Charles didn't win the next race, unfortunately. He was a bit happy that he didn't DNF, but the fact that the winner of the race was none other than his sworn enemy did little to comfort him. He glanced over to Max who was at P2, and looked around to the room to make sure that rat wasn't lurking nearby.
"W-What was the gap between you and her?" Charles asked. He knew asking would literally do him 0 help, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to know.
"I want to say around a good 20 seconds or so? Maybe a bit more, I wasn't too sure," Max responded, watching Charles sink deeper in his seat with a look of despair. He gulped, staring aimlessly onto the wall in front of him. How was she that fast? What had she done with the car overnight?
"I'm sorry for (Y/N) for the next few races," He heard her, loud and clear, as she entered the cooldown room, mocking him for what he said last weekend. Charles instantly glared at her, not even bothering to hide his true intentions. No amount of PR training could hide his disgust for her. She settled into her seat, relishing in the feeling of being the race winner.
"You do anything with your car?" Charles grunted, and she shook her head,
"No, no. I just have more skill," She flashed him a smile, before getting up once again to grab a bottle of water. Max, for once in his life, decided to be quiet in the room and see the argument follow through. He'd heard Charles tell him multiple times about how (L/N) got on his nerves, but seeing it in person would be amazing.
"I doubt that. You used to place below me during the races," Charles took a sip of his water.
"What are you insinuating then?" She snarled, and Max glanced over to the camera crew, signaling for them to leave. While this would do numbers for the ratings and news headlines, they were promised some share of money if they got their asses out.
"Um guys, I don't think we should be fighting, we have to cooldown anyway..." Max began, but his words fell onto deaf ears as Charles stood up from his seat to stalk over to where she stood.
"Maybe you'd be more likeable if you were honest with yourself, sometimes cheaters-" Charles began, standing his ground when she yelled back,
"So you think I cheated in this race? Seriously? That's your argument?"
"Well, we do know that last weekend there was water in your tires," Charles snapped,
"That wasn't my fault? Stop being such a sore loser, Leclerc. Maybe this is why you haven't won a championship yet."
Max's jaw dropped as he watched the words fly out of her mouth. Charles, in the meantime, tossed his water bottle to the ground and stepped closer to her with his finger in her face,
"At least I raced clean without losing grip when I tried to overtake someone. You just got lucky today, that's it."
"Luck, really? Yeah, tell me about your luck when you're fighting more with your teammate than with the other drivers on the grid during the race." She hissed.
Was it the air? Was it the fact that the adrenaline was still high after the race, or was it the fact that despite not being able to stand each other they were only centimeters apart. It didn't take long before Charles's hand dug into her scalp, pulling her head back ever so slightly as he kissed her. Seeing this as another challenge, (L/N) brought Charles down to the ground, both of them fighting to be on top while still furiously kissing each other. His hands gripped her waist and she had her arms around his neck, dragging him towards her as they rolled off of each other on the ground, tongues practically in each other's mouths with the intention of wanting to ruin each other. She scratched him, he yanked her hair, she punched his chest and he twisted her arm and yet their lips never stopped wanting to consume the other. It wasn't until (L/N) pulled away to breathe again did they both realize that Max was still there with a very shocked expression.
"I'm... I'm just going to leave and make sure uh no one else enters this room but uh guys you might want to... put yourself together before we get on the podium," Max had one hand covering his eyes as he walked out of the room.
"Do you think he's gonna tell people we just made out?" She asked, propping herself onto her elbows.
"I doubt it," Charles responded with a roll of his eyes, "I mean, who would go and loudly state that Charles Leclerc was kissing you of all people? I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."
He winced when her hand smacked the back of his head.
𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣
Max never forgot. He never forgot anything. He had made a promise to himself that he would wipe that smirk off her face and he intended to keep it. Even with all the setbacks that he was facing this particular weekend. Back to back penalties, a grip drop and on top of all this, a very haughty (Y/N) (L/N) purposely bumping into him on the paddock with a bright smile,
"Have fun! I've always wondered how the view from the back would look like for you," She chirped, speeding past him on a scooter. Max's jaw went taut, and he did little to hide his anger for the rest of the day. He was going to make sure that the race tomorrow would haunt her for the rest of her life. She had chosen the wrong person to mess with and he was determined to prove it to her.
Max was on a different level during the race, he was unbelievably fast and it surprised everyone but mainly (Y/N) (L/N).
Her radio went off, and someone buzzed through, "Max is currently at P6, he's coming up behind you."
"What the hell?" Her voice was a bit quiet, still in disbelief at the fact that Max was now right behind her, "How does he do this?"
And before she can react further, she sees him overtake her as he flashed his middle finger at her before speeding off. That got her going, and despite the radio telling her to calm down and control her motions, she began to chase after Max. Her ego was bruised but surely she could redeem herself. Unfortunately, she lost grip and her car went spiraling out of control towards the barriers.
"A safety car will be deployed soon, Max," GP informed the driver.
"Who crashed?"
"(Y/N) (L/N)."
Max couldn't help the giggle that escaped his lips, and to quote Alonso he merely stated, "Karma..." before turning his radio off for the rest of the race.
By the time all the celebrations were done, Max walked past (L/N)'s garage and he noticed the way she was pouting, legs crossed as she was busy texting somebody. Her fingers flew across the screen, and it almost looked like she was about to cry. Max did feel a bit bad for her, he knew she had worked to get to where she was - she was after all the only female driver on the grid so she was talented. He walked over to her in the best hopes that he could try to make her feel better, I mean he wasn't a monster.
"Oh, look who's here, the ugly ass sloth who can't mind his own business," She sneered, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. Yeah, that was it. Max didn't want to comfort her anymore, he was going to stoop down to her level.
"You know, maybe if you learned to shut your mouth and admit your mistakes, you could've actually done well in the race today." He scoffed, towering over her. She stood up, going back to texting her friend with a scowl on her face.
"Texting your mechanics to help salvage what's left of the car?" Max snorted.
"No, I'm texting my friend about how some douchebag keeps talking to me like I even asked for him. Like why the hell are you even here? Go back to your own garage, asshole." She snapped, pocketing her phone. Max threw his backpack onto the ground besides her and took a step forward,
"You know I was going to be nice to you-"
"You said Karma over the radio, I heard that shit clearly," She hissed, stepping closer as well.
"I said it in the moment, but right now I was going to be nice. I was going to comfort you. You are talented, you're not a shit driver like I said you were, but God... your ego. Your stubbornness. Your... your absolute pathetic move to shift the blame onto someone else for your wrong doings. Get over yourself, you don't know shit about your own car and yet you always blame me for something during the race!"
"My car is completely fine before you wrecked it!"
"Oh, so that DNF last weekend was my fault? You rammed into me! Let's not forget that!" Max yelled, glancing over to the new shiny car that would be in use next weekend.
"Oi, eyes on me," She snapped her fingers in his face, grabbing his jaw to turn it to her, "Don't stare at my winning car."
Max yanked her hand from his jaw, glaring at her. Oh, he hated her. He hated her so much. Even when he wanted to be nice to her, she always found a way to ruin it. How was it possible for a woman as beautiful and genuinely talented as her to somehow always end up as the most annoying, stuck-up little piece of shit that he had ever seen? Within seconds, he had her against her "amazing" car with his lips onto her. She gasped in surprise, eyes darting to the corner of the garage to make sure all the mechanics had left, but considering the way Max was making her melt in his kiss, her worries soon faded away. Max had one hand pressing her down against the car, her back hit the edge of the halo and she groaned in pain, causing her to arch into him as he deepened the kiss. Her hands came to grip onto his shoulders as she bit down on his bottom lip, and she could feel him smiling against her.
"I wish you were like this every weekend," He whispered, delving into another kiss. She wrapped her hand in his hair, tugging him gently away from her,
"I hope you realize this is a one time occurrence. I have standards," She smirked.
"They must be pretty low then like your racing skills," Max snapped, kissing her once more as he felt her smirk fade against his lips. He really did mean it when he said he was going to wipe it off her face, he just never imagined it to be in this way.
"Shut up," She mumbled, "Just shut up."
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