#I know that if I really hate it I can move back in

[hotcupoteckla]

Do people not understand catharsis?

Do people not understand thought process displacement?

Are people not aware that readers used to actively seek out books that made you feel and think deeply about things as a form of brain exercise?

Like why, why do you think it is when you watch movies or books set way back in time that the characters who read are bullied by the hypermachismo holders and are called "sissies"?

Because books enabled readers to cry, and crying allows a person's emotional resiliency to build, and hyper machismo holders hate it when other people have emotional resilience, because they don't have it.

Sometimes a deeply saddening thing occurs so quickly you cannot process it, because if your brain processed it right in that moment, you would stop functioning as a living being.

So you feel numb, and go through the motions, until you're safer and you start to feel happier again.

Then you read a book about a character losing someone dear to them, or how they survived child abuse, and your brain unlocks at least part of your experience in your crying and expression of catharsis on behalf of the character.

You cry and things feel better, and you're not as likely to shutdown over a memory overwhelming you when you least expect it.

AND if you are so lucky as to have not encountered anything so heart-rendingly awful yet, YOUR BRAIN IS STILL HELPED.

It now has an example to compare to when you do encounter deeply traumatizing events, and can cite the book as an example of "they moved past this style of event, I believed it possible for them, I can do it too."

Like maybe the character had magic to help them, but usually - it's not the magic that gets you out of a bad situation.

It's working with a friend, or listening to good advice from someone knowledgeable.

It's helping someone in need as you see it happen, without any thought of it being returned.

It's stopping your distress and thinking of a solution with the resources you have at hand.

It's convincing your jailer that this is unjust for everyone.

The triumph in spite of bad things happening to us is the Part that builds resiliency, and that cannot happen without a whumph getting in the way.

Like sure, the authors can make it so your favorite character that is the stand in for who you desire to be doesn't die, but would it be as compelling to read without that risk of loss?

If it was just rainbows and sunshine all of the time for everyone, wouldn't you just be reading another "billionaires get everything they want" story?

Not every book is going to be for you.

Did I throw The Last Battle across the room after C.S. Lewis decided to kill off Susan's Entire Family (we're talking 20+ funerals from a train crash before their family reunion) and then Victim Blamed Her for Not Believing in Aslan anymore? You betcha.

Did I think that sucked? Yes..100%

Did it serve his story? ...as loathe as I am to admit it, yes, he wanted to drive home the Christian Allegory and make Susan out to be a pragmatic adult, but one who lost faith in the stories of their childhood. We're supposed to feel less sympathy for her as she turned into a snooty Karen like mother to her kids. Her kids were on the train, as was her husband.

So do I hate C.S. Lewis? No, but I know now that he's willing to sacrifice anything in his story to make a point about faith and Christianity.

And all the Blorbo-Defenders from upthread really need to read more books if they think the WORST thing you can do to a character or your readership is kill a character off.

Sometimes, the worst thing you can do to a character is leave them as the Lone Survivor.

And it's better to experience it in a book, to become a more resilient person. To have catharsis built into your escape.

im starting to think you guys dont like it when stories make you feel things

[blackdykegirlblogger]

vi who is the biggest, fattest, meanest bottom leaning switch of all time. i don’t make the rules, fortiche does. i always knew girlie pop was a switch, but originally i assumed she was more top leaning if anything. but then s2 came along….i don’t even ship caitvi but that kiss???? changed my perspective on a lotttttt of things. 

she was also a stone cold virgin when yall first got together. she’s gotten a smooch or two from some pretty girls around the lanes when she was younger (maybe had the chance to grab a tit here and there. maybe.), but outside of that? she’s never been touched. 

it’s not that she’s unattractive or that she doesn’t have options, she’s just traumatized with extremely strong attachment issues (which i honestly feel like isn't acknowledged enough). trust me, plenty of fine candidates have attempted to shoot their shots over the years. and maybe she would talk to a girl or two for a little bit, testing the waters and such, but it never lasted very long.

this. bitch. whimpers.

^^^ at even the slightest of touches. try it out. stroke her hair, adjust the collar on one of her jackets, kiss her on the cheek. she sounds like a kicked puppy.

like previously stated, while she doesn’t top as often as most fics would have you believe, she’s still a switchy switch at heart. she’s also an absolute demon with the strap, don’t get it twisted.

she will turn your stomach inside out and leave you unable to walk for several days afterwards. she will grind your cunt against her thigh until you’ve soaked the fabric of her pants. and she will slurp on your clit like it’s a damn jolly rancher for hours at a time. don’t test her. please test her. 

anyways back to her being a bottom <3

she has pretty pierced nipples! tug on them with your mouth and she will cream her pants in record time. she’s also against wearing bras ever at any point in time, so they always poke through whatever shirt she’s wearing. (not counting pitfighter! vi, in which case she binds her tits with bandages. the point still stands tho).

as a matter of fact, it’s actually a running gag between the two of you. she’s an ass girl (I DON’T MAKE THE RULES), and you’re more of a tittie lover yourself. she slaps your ass whenever you’re bent over or walking by, and you pinch and twist at her nips until they’re pebbled and sore. 

has the stamina of a fucking horse, regardless of if she’s above or below you (or behind you hehe). the type of mf to finally agree to take a break 3 rounds in for like 4 mins, and before you know it she’s looking at you with those big sparkly eyes asking if you’re ready to go again. smh damn nympho. 

is actually a puppy dog. like, when she isn't at the gym she is 100% glued to your hip at all times. you say jump, she leaps. you say run, she sprints faster than usain bolt. you say "vi can i have a little head 🥺" and the bitch doesn't come up for air for the next 3 hours.

she will deny having a favorite position until she's out of breath, but secretly she lovessss her some backshots. like i said earlier, she loves her some ASS. and what better way to admire yours than constantly slamming it back into her hips until you're sore?

backshots with her sound like fucking bombs going off but moving on

is a squirter <3 now it doesn't happen very often and you really have to wreck her in order to get her there but when you finally do? she becomes a watergun. she hates talking about it or even admitting that it happened but you think it's the hottest thing in the world (vi squirt on me pls-)

has a daddy kink lwk but that's like a special feature you can unlock after being with her for a good amount of time (maybe like a few months or so).

will give strap but has reservations about actually taking it. getting finger fucked until she's crossed eyed? yup. head until she passes out? fuck yeah! tribbing until she's whimpering and begging you to cum all over her? sounds like a perfect friday night. what who said that . but idk, as evil as her strap game is...the idea of getting that energy thrown her way intimidates her. but hey, that's between her and her therapist.

vi's body is actually tea and we as a fandom don't appreciate it enough. it's always "caitlyn kirramountains" this and "thick thighs sevika" that, but are we ignoring how this bitch is shaped like a damn hourglass???? her ass is fat, waist is gone and she just loves whenever you take the time to acknowledge it. bc of this she ADORESSSSSSSSSSS body worship bro. like she melts for it.

[barnabusthebarmyballetschool]

As someone who was a 13 yr old Brit in 2005 I had a visceral reaction to seeing each and every one of these tracks.

My friend at school was obsessed with X Factor at the time and had a massive crush on this guy. I never got the appeal and I wonder if that's why our friendship died.

Look, we all did it. Played around with our Nokia 1110 ringtones and jokingly set this up. I don't know why we have to be all defensive about it. Whilst I miss the custom ringtone era, I'm glad this villain died off with his annoying "Baa aramba baa bom baa barooumba..."

I'm not saying we were, but as a tween listening to PCD you felt so grown up and dare I say 'sexy' as you showed off you bedroom choreography at the local SNAP disco. We weren't of course. We were children. But that didn't stop us performing mildly risqué moves in our New Look party outfits.

I voted for this one because even 20 years later, I can still bop along to this without feeling like I've gone back in time. It's timeless. And one of the best charity singles to come out of the noughties.

Nope. Can't stand that fucking chipmunk singing. Hate this with a firey passion and I'm annoyed to be reminded this exists.

I'm not proud to admit this, but before this song came out I had no idea who Madonna was. So all I knew about the supposed queen of pop was she was a ~50 something prancing around in a skimpy leotard. I've since learnt the error of my ways and come to appreciate her contribution to music, but this song will forever be 'meh'.

So I had to check Wikipedia on this because apparently this was Westlife's 1st single without my beloved Brian. I remember the tragic heartbreak only a tween girl can experience when their favourite in a boy band decides to leave, so although this song is remarkable I probably wasn't vibing it as much as I might have 2 years prior.

Another 'let me try and be sexy' song that was probably inappropriate for someone not even in puberty yet. I never did get why they each wore such a ridiculous outfit to presumably their office?! You can still flirt over the fax machine without needing to be in just your pants Mutya!

This was a viral music video before going viral was really a thing. I must have watched this silly billboard graffiti a hundred times. The song itself was alright, more akin to Ironic Alanis in vibes, but I know I watched this on repeat for the 'will they, won't they' story.

"I'm Luke, I'm 5 and my dad's Bruce Lee". I nearly picked this in the poll, but let's be honest I haven't got it on any Spotify playlist (unlike McFly). The cartoon music video was so cute and the song itself is really sweet. Haven't listened to it in ages but I might sing it to myself if I ever come across a yellow digger blocking traffic.

I had to look this one up tbh. I like the Gorillaz, I do, but their songs aren't exactly recognisable from name alone. Once I hit play though, it all came flooding back and I'm not mad the Americans have made this sweep the poll, despite it being quite niche for a British audience.

Will Smith was still doing music in 2005? Really?! Wow, did not remeber that at all! Having said that, I do know this song, I just assumed it was older. But nope, that music video is straight outta 2005 fo' shizzle!

i desperately want to do one of those “pick a song that’s turning 20 in 2025” polls but instead of all the songs being chosen to appeal directly to american tumblr users who had an emo phase i will take them, with bare minimum selectivity or curation, from the uk official year end charts so that everybody has to choose between shayne ward and the crazy frog song

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK [Prologue]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?  

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 1k

Warnings: a tiny little smutty scene, dirty words.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Taglist requests are open.

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

A/N: After brooding for a long time, I have decided to (alongside your votes) release one of the patreon exclusive, since no other stories are working out. Though this is originally a drabble series, I will release longer chapters here.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Or read the full series right away on Patreon at a discounted price today!!

Your eyes zero on your laptop screen - the quality is just above what is called grainy. 

But you can clearly recognize those tattoos. Moreover, you can recognize that voice, even if he says nothing good but filth. 

“You whore!” a slap rings as if to punctuate the man’s breathy voice, “look at your greedy hole swallowing me up so good!” 

You look at what his voice is referring to. The place where his cock disappears into her, creating a lewd, wet sound, her arousal drips down the back of her thigh - your own thighs come against each other as an impact. 

Even though their faces are not visible in the 3 minute video, the whole country knows who they are. 

Social media influencer Jeon Jungkook and Youtuber Kim Doona. 

There are a plethora of reasons behind why you don’t like these social media influencers. If you have the energy to make a list then it will go like: 

1. These people think of themselves much more highly than they actually are. You mean, they are not even celebrities or making the country proud or something. What the fuck make them so obnoxious? 

2. They have an awful number of dumb followers. Why do people even follow them? For showing their makeup and skin-care routine? For screaming loudly at the gaming screen? For recording themselves eating, doing the most random shit every normal human being does on a daily basis? You just don’t understand why. 

3. These people are absolutely fame-hungry. They can do anything and everything to boost their followers even if the said actions aren’t really positive. 

Take an instance from the current scenario - two of the most popular social media influencers have dropped their bedroom scene at an adult site and it got monetized within a day. Nice move because they gained both money and fame 10x overnight. 

It’s not that you have paid to watch what you are watching currently - you would rather die than feeding into the delusions of these influencers. You are watching because you despise these people and there was a leaked version circulating on Telegram. 

You scoff at the screen but the wetness in between your legs scoffs back at you. 

You hate them, yeah, but it’s not like you are totally immune to the sexy scene they have portrayed. Especially the way Jeon Jungkook’s tattoo arm held onto the female’s waist, or the way his muscles flexed under the dim light, or the way his cock- 

“Y/N! What the fuck?” you scold yourself, slam-shutting your laptop with unnecessary force. You blame it on your temporary state of celibacy that has been forced upon you since your last break up. 

And the fact that you have a fat crush on your manager - doesn’t make things any less painful. 

So you decide to shut off your system for the night and go to sleep as you should have done long ago. You have work tomorrow and a meeting, being wet after watching some influencers fuck each other wouldn’t help you with your career. 

Or would it? 

Your jaw hangs ajar, threatening to touch the floor as Min Yoongi, aka the manager you have a fat crush on, presents the campaign plan of your company’s new product’s marketing. Everything was fine until Yoongi suggested influencer endorsement and if this is not a joke of the universe then you don’t know what it is because you can see Jeon Jungkook’s picture gracing the screen.   

“Jeon Jungkook? Why?” you utter these words without so much of a thought. 

Yoongi looks at you with his narrowed eyes, “why not? You know, he is really famous. He is trending currently.” 

“Yeah but the reason he is trending- well. I don’t think he is suitable for our brand image.” you press on. 

Yoongi chuckles at your constipated expression, “Y/N-ah” he calls you softly and a tiny part of your heart melts, “I am sure our brand image can go up with a few charitable works here and there. But the company wants a return of what they are investing in marketing. I bet signing up Jeon Jungkook will help.” 

“Y/N, you know we are already at a tight spot right? Our last campaign wasn’t as successful as we expected. The company may take steps if we don’t do this right this time.” calls Mrs. Lee from the other side of the table. 

“And before you ask me why him, why not the other influencers…” Yoongi chimes in again, “We are selling gaming laptops and this guy is addicted to games. He has more followers than the actual streamers. He is young, hot, and talented in many areas. In one word, he is perfect.” 

“You awfully sound like you want to date him.” You scoff at the man. He only chuckles. 

Yoongi tries to say something but a knock rings on the door. One of the staff opens the door only a little and says, “Sir, he is here.” 

Yoongi nods and says, “send him inside.” 

“Who is coming?” you place the question. Only for Yoongi to smirk as a response. 

When you are about to press more, the door swings open revealing the man who-should-not-be-named, Jeon Jungkook. 

Your eyes go wide as you take him in - all baggy clothes and a cute bucket hat perched on the top of his head. Bambi eyes scanning the room like a puppy brought to his very new home. As if he is not the guy who is going viral for fucking on camera and selling it to an adult site. 

He bows deeply and opens his mouth to greet, “Hello, I am Jeon Jungkook.” 

You feel your blood pressure raising at the thought of working with him. You will survive it right? 

You will have to. 

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @armystay89 @ryryvna @purple-realms

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: baby, i'm a dog

series m.list // taglist

note: welcome to part 1 !!! this fic is def a diff vibe ,, kinda chill and jus sad LOL … tbh if i hate it i’ll jus edit it as a one shot cos #yolo #idc but also…. i fear this jk is a vibe

//

the cabin's front door slams shut behind jungkook.

his laughter spills into the cold air as he jogs to his car, tossing the keys to taehyung mid-stride. 

the hoseok and nam joon had roped him into a last-minute supply run—apparently, they underestimated just how much beer and snacks a group this size could burn through in one night. the crunch of snow under his boots and the slap of wind against his face brought a sharp clarity, a brief reprieve from the weight he'd felt the entire drive up here. 

he works nonstop all year… he only gets a few days of vacation. yet, this is how he spends his precious leisure days.

a part of him is still trying to figure out why he even came.

"think fast, shithead!" taehyung called, tossing the keys back. 

jungkook catches them effortlessly, smirking as he spins them around his finger.

as he opens his mouth to make a comeback, the sound of tires crunching over ice makes his chest go tight. instantly, he recognizes that it’s yoongi’s girlfriend’s car—but something about the way it’s driven pulls him further into himself.

jungkook is a car guy. 

he’s the car guy and knowing cars means knowing the people behind the wheel.

the way they park, the way they brake, even the rhythm of their turns.

and this car?

it parks too carefully, too smoothly.

it’s muscle memory that makes him stand straighter, his heart stumbling over itself. because he knows exactly whose hands are gripping the wheel before he even sees your face.

taking a few steps back, he watches as the suv rolls into the driveway, something heavy settling in his chest.

the sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his daze.

and it all suddenly feels like a fever dream. 

with the snow falling slowly and the way his heart skips a beat—you step out and completely stop his world.

you’re bundled in a cream puffer jacket and your cheeks flushed from the cold…

and you smile at him.

like, really smile at him. 

and jungkook thinks to himself; 

fuck.

you’re still so pretty. 

so fucking pretty. 

then, his mind blanks. 

he doesn’t know how to move, doesn’t even know how to breathe. all he can do is stare.

“jungkook!”

before he can even respond, you’re walking toward him, arms open.

he freezes when you hug him.

it’s not long—just enough to share a little warmth—but it’s enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.

three years.

it’s been three years since he’s seen you, and now you’re here, wrapping him in a moment that feels too easy for all the time that’s passed.

is... is this easy for you?

because he can't breathe right now.

“i convinced her to come last minute,” yoongi’s girlfriend, mei, says. she’s practically bouncing with excitement. “the weather grounded her flight, and i told her it’d be way better to spend a few days with us than to sit around waiting.”

you pull back from jungkook and smile up at him like it’s nothing.

like he hasn’t been caught in the shockwave of your presence.

like you aren't the love of his life.

“figured it’d be fun,” you say lightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you glance around and squeal at the sight of your old friendgroup. “plus, i missed you guys.”

the others swarm in, laughing and throwing their arms around you, saying how long it’s been. jungkook hangs back, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of him. this wasn’t how he thought this trip was going to go.

as jin and yoongi haul your bags toward the cabin, you turn back to jungkook. your shoulder bumps against his as you tilt your head.

“is it okay that i’m here?”

he blinks at you.

“why wouldn’t it be?”

your shrug and look around. “nam joon’s your friend. this is his family cabin… i’m just your—“

“it’s fine,” he interrupts you.

silence.

then, you break it with a question and your signature soft tone.

“did i surprise you?”

jungkook nods stiffly, words caught in his throat.

"good."

... is all you say before you’re gone, following the others into the cabin, leaving him standing in the cold.

it takes a second, but his feet move on their own, trailing after you without a second thought. like a dog, he thinks, tail wagging behind its owner.

his hands clench into fists at his sides as he walks, the cold biting at his skin through his jacket.

you're here.

you're actually here.

they have invited you over and over again to friendgroup trips and you've only attended a handful of times. take note that those specific times were the ones where jungkook had rsvp'd no.

so this...

this?

this is completely beyond him.

you... in the flesh feels like some cruel cosmic joke to him. the kind of joke where the punchline cuts deep and leaves a scar.

three years.

three fucking years of trying not to think about you, of convincing himself he’d moved on.

three years of pretending he didn’t still see you in every corner of his life. he told himself he'd be ready for this moment if it ever came—that he'd have the right words, the right attitude, anything but the mess of disbelief and guilt twisting in his chest right now.

but here you are, running into his arms like none of it matters. like the years apart haven’t clawed at him the way they clearly didn’t claw at you.

he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.

you always were good at carrying things with grace, even when he was busy breaking them—breaking you.

a part of him feels bitter. he wishes you had a mean bone in your body. perhaps, he'd feel better... but you don't and all he's can think about is how good you smell.

“what the fuck," jungkook mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face as he steps into the cabin.

the warmth inside doesn’t reach him.

not really.

his heart is still somewhere out there in the cold, stuck in that driveway where you looked at him like nothing’s changed.

like he’s still someone worth smiling at.

as you get settled, jungkook and taehyung excuse themselves again and leave for their little grocery run.

when they come back, an hour later—the plastic grocery bags cutting into his fingers as he kicks the snow off his boots.

laughter drifts from the kitchen, light and easy, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans. the scent of something savory hangs in the air, and for a moment, he lets it lull him, the warmth easing the tension in his shoulders.

“finally,” yoongi groans, swooping in to grab some bags from jungkook. “we thought you guys got lost or something.”

“tae couldn’t decide between doritos and cheetos,” jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes as he shrugs off his coat. “turns out we needed both.”

“damn right we did,” taehyung calls from behind him, slamming the door shut with his foot.

jungkook lets their banter fade into the background, his eyes instinctively drawn toward the kitchen. 

you’re there. 

standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up as you stir something in a pot. your hair’s pulled back, a few loose strands framing your face. you’re laughing at something yoongi’s girlfriend says, your hands moving gracefully as you gesture, completely at ease.

the view of you is so clear, yet so vivid in his memory.

it makes his heart ache.

it’s like you’ve always been here, laughing, stirring pots, and looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes his chest ache.

like he’s coming home to you again. 

“earth to jungkook?” jimin snaps his fingers in front of his face, smirking when jungkook blinks, caught. “you good?”

“yeah.” the word comes out too sharp, and he clears his throat, shrugging past jimin. “just gonna change.”

he doesn’t wait for a response and heads upstairs. the weight in his chest grows heavier with every step, a knot tightening in his stomach. when he reaches his room and pushes the door open, he freezes.

his bags aren’t where he left them.

instead, a collection of white baggage are stacked neatly in the corner. irritation flares, but it’s quickly doused by confusion—and a sinking realization.

“jungkook?” your voice calls softly from behind him, and he turns to see you at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath.

you’re holding onto the banister, your other hand fiddling with the hem of your sweater. the soft fabric brushes your fingers as you glance at him, your expression tentative.

“the girls—um—mei, bria, and the others—they thought it’d be better if we moved your stuff,” you say, stepping closer. your voice is calm, and measured, but there’s a nervous energy in the way your eyes dart toward his. “i told them it wasn’t necessary, but they figured it’d be easier if... well, you know.”

jungkook leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“so you’re gonna take my room?”

“it was our room for three years.”

“it’s been three years.”

“that’s true,” you hesitate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “they put your stuff in jimin’s room. but i was just coming up to say, i can totally switch and room with joon’s girlfriend and make joon and jimin room together. i mean, it’d be a good chance to bond—”

“take the room.” his voice cuts through your rambling, low and firm.

your eyes widen slightly. 

“are you sure? i really don’t mind—”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging. “the only other option would be to share it with me… so…”

you pause, a laugh bubbling out before you can stop it. 

“that’d be crazy, right?”

something flickers across his face, too quick for you to catch. then, he straightens, his expression calm but his words heavy. 

“would it be though?”

the question hangs in the air, your laughter fading as his gaze lingers on you. his tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something you can’t quite name.

you look away, brushing your hand over the doorframe as if needing something to ground you. 

“thanks, jungkook,” you say softly, the words carrying a warmth that feels too intimate. “i appreciate it.”

but before you turn, your hand reaches out, ruffling his hair in that way you used to when you thought he was being ridiculous. 

his breath catches, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as your fingertips graze his scalp.

then you’re gone, your footsteps fading as you head back downstairs.

jungkook exhales, his head tipping back against the doorframe as he stares at the ceiling. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, the weight in his chest now impossibly heavier.

by the time jungkook come down the stairs, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space he follows behind you, catching the way the group immediately perks up. all eyes turning toward you both, and jin yells out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"

taehyung grins, his voice too cheerful for someone who clearly has something up his sleeve. 

“you two are late to the conversation, so you’re being voluntold to go back to town and grab some oil. we forgot to buy oil.”

jungkook freezes mid-step, his brows furrowing. 

“the fuck? i just got back. are you serious?”

you turn and see jungkook’s frustration bubbling up already as he turns to bicker with the guys, his voice rising in playful annoyance. “hyung, you couldn't just... check the damn list? are you fucking serious? i don’t want to go back—”

taehyung laughs, “we were too busy enjoying ourselves. you had fun with me! remember? we got both—”

“fuck that,” jungkook huffs. “i’m not going back—”

“you have to—”

“no, i don’t.”

“jungkook, you’re the youngest too—”

“why does that fucking matter?”

the group chuckles, but jungkook’s not laughing.

you watch jungkook’s face twist with irritation, the way his jaw tightens with every word that’s said. he’s always been like this—quick to snap when he feels cornered. it’s like he can’t stand being told what to do. 

he can’t. 

god, he really hates being pushed around.

you’ve always known that about him. yet, a part of you feels bad for him. 

“no. fuck that.” his voice is sharp, a little louder than it needs to be. “i’m not going back—”

the others try to reason with him even more, but his deflection is clear. 

it’s always the same with him, especially when he feels like he's being challenged. you can’t help but shake your head a little, a sigh almost escaping your lips as you glance at the group, waiting for the inevitable back-and-forth.

he’s the youngest, of course. always the youngest. always expected to just follow along, to do things because it’s “his turn” or whatever bullshit they’re using this time. 

you feel your own resolve settle, the urge to take control bubbling up before you can stop it. without even thinking, you walk over to taehyung, reach over, and grab the the car keys from his hand. 

you do it quickly, not even glancing at anyone else, just deciding in that moment that you’ve had enough of the back-and-forth.

“oil. anything else?” you ask, your tone light, almost too casual, as if this is no big deal.

you hear the group chuckle, but you're not listening to them. 

you’re watching jungkook now, his surprise registering only for a second before the annoyance flickers back into his eyes. 

he doesn’t have a choice now.

he hates this.

jungkook rolls his eyes, but it's too late—he knows it’s happening now. he snatches the keys back from your hand with a heavy sigh. he doesn’t look at you, but the slight dip in his shoulders gives him away. 

he’s still annoyed, but it doesn’t matter.

not if it’s about you. 

suddenly, he’s putting his boots on and slams the door. then, the sound of his car engine starting fills the silence. everyone turns to you in disbelief. 

“huh," you tilt your head. "i guess he's driving.”

the car ride is silent, the engine purring smoothly beneath you.

jungkook’s car is new (to you, at least) and he drives like he’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the group as possible.

his knuckles are tight around the wheel, and every so often, his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. you can feel the tension building up again, but neither of you says anything.

the store comes up quick, and you both slip inside. jungkook grabs the oil without a word, and as you stand by the aisle, you notice the carton of oat milk in his hand—your favourite brand too. 

you blink. 

“they didn’t ask for oat milk.”

he doesn’t look at you as he sets the carton into the basket, but there’s a quiet, almost hesitant shift in his posture.

“yeah. i know.”

you want to say something, anything, but you swallow the words. 

it’s just oat milk. 

back in the car, you both buckle up in silence, and jungkook starts the engine with a soft grumble. the snow outside is heavier now, falling in thick, swirling sheets, the road barely visible.

the car stalls.

jungkook curses under his breath, his hands working over the wheel like he’s already analyzing what’s wrong. you watch him, knowing he’s not going to admit it, but it’s obvious.

“looks like we’re stuck for a bit,” he mutters. “better wait for the snow to calm down.”

you lean back in your seat, the quiet pressing in. there’s nowhere to go but forward now, and it’s strange, this calm in the middle of nowhere with him beside you, neither of you saying much.

the snow pounds against the windshield. jungkook shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he watches the storm.

as jungkook stares at the snow pounds against the windshield, you stare at him.

you wait for him to say something. 

anything. 

but jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes.

his gaze is fixed on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. you can feel the distance between you two—the years, the hurt, the things that never got said. the things you did say… 

“so,” you start, your voice soft, the words almost hesitant. “how are you?”

jungkook scoffs.

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask. “it’s been a while. i only really see what you’re up to via social media. you opened your own shop, right? i’m so proud of you. i know how long you’ve wanted to do that.”

jungkook nods. 

“yeah…” his response is immediate, but detached. “yeah, i mean… it was a lot easier when i got the right clientelle. so yeah, still doing that. luxury car mechanic bullshit. it’s... all right. not much to update you about.” his tone is nonchalant, almost like he doesn’t care, but you know it’s a front. it’s always been easier for him to hide behind that mask of indifference. 

“i’m sure there’s something—”

“i fix up cars people can’t even pronounce the names of. not a lot of excitement there. just... polishing up things people break, and making money for it.”

“okay,” you nod, your fingers tracing the edge of your seat. “jungkook, it’s me. don’t underplay this with me.”

he shrugs. 

for the first time in three years; you feel it again.

you feel this… sense of anger? annoyance?

hurt. 

jungkook is well known in the city. 

he's the go-to mechanic for luxury cars—bentleys, ferraris, lambos—if you've got money and a car that needs fixing, you go to him… and while we’re here; let’s brag about it. 

jungkook is not just any mechanic; he's the top of the game. he’s the most trusted in the industry, and somehow, he's built a reputation that makes even the richest clients feel like they’re getting something special.

most of them don't know it, but jungkook is lucky—unbelievably lucky. 

he didn’t come from money, didn’t grow up with connections or a silver spoon in his mouth. hell, he's still the kind of guy who wears sweat pants and a hoodie to work… but he's got an uncanny knack for fixing cars, his hands working like magic around every engine and every screw. it's a skill that came naturally to him, no effort needed—he was born with it. 

and that, somehow, has carried him through life.

the thing is, jungkook knows he's a loser. 

a lovable one, sure, but a loser nonetheless. 

he might be great with cars, but he's not the type to flaunt his success. his garage is both chaotic and high-end, a mix of organized chaos and state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of place that looks like it’s one bad day away from falling apart, but in reality, it's the most trusted name in the city.

he's rough around the edges, but that's part of his charm. he's got the grit to keep going when things get tough, but he stumbles through life in a way that makes everyone around him laugh—except when it comes to cars.

then, he's all business.

the fact that he's self-made, that he’s built everything from the ground up, doesn’t even fully sink in for him. he never asks for anything. the success just... happened, like it was meant to.

in the same sense, he’s a scumbag.

he’s gotten into trouble before, and he’s made his share of mistakes. but somehow, with the luck he’s got, he always lands on his feet. and that’s why, despite being a mess in every other part of his life, jungkook is the guy you call when your sports car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.

in fact, he’s the guy to be with in the middle of a snowy road. 

yet, with all these thoughts… you figure not to push it any further.

the silence stretches again, but this time it’s not quite as awkward. it’s still heavy, though—thick with the things that were never said. and you can feel it, the weight of all that unsaid stuff, but something else creeps in too. a quiet yearning, a reminder of the closeness you once had.

“how’s work for you?”

you clear your throat and chirp up.

“it’s good. great, actually. dior signed me to be their permanent event planner. i got to work with ysl and chanel last year so that was cool… lots of travelling… i don’t know. it’s been… fun. i think i’ve done a lot since...” 

“that’s good,” jungkook breathes. “i’m happy for you.” 

“really?”

“really.”

you let out a relieved breath.

“you know, i always refer my clients to your shop. truth be told, i found out about your shop through them before you even posted on social media.”

he flicks a glance at you, but it’s fleeting. 

“why?” he scoffs, but there’s no real anger behind it, just frustration. “you shouldn’t have…”

you wince slightly, but it’s not a judgment. you get it. you always have. the way he pushes people away, like he’s afraid of being too close to anyone, like caring might break him.

“we were in it together,” you reply, your voice quiet but warm. “life. our careers… everything. just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean i was going to leave it as it was. i couldn’t help it. i thought of you whenever my clients complained about their cars. i thought of you whenever your favourite model drove past me. i thought of you, jungkook. how could i not? we spent three years together… so, don’t do that please. don’t act like the past three years haven’t been good to you… because as much as i could, i tried to send you some good. there was good.”

“okay,” he huffs out a breath, his shoulders tense. he’s quiet for a beat too long, and just when you think he might shut down, he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. “i appreciate it. all of it.”

“you’re welcome,” you smile. 

then, you turn and watch the snow falling heavier now, the world outside becoming more and more a blur. 

“you know,” you say, your voice almost teasing, trying to ease the weight of the moment, “your mom calls me on my birthday every year.”

his eyes flick to you again, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. a flash of something in his eyes. a crack in the cool mask he’s built up. 

“sorry,” he apologizes. “i… shit, ___. you know, you’re her favourite.”

“don’t be,” you smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “she’s my favourite too.”

then, he’s quiet again, but this time, there’s a softening to his expression, the edge of defensiveness slipping away. 

you let the silence settle again, the two of you wrapped in the quiet of the car and the storm outside. but this time, it feels different. not easy, not perfect. but it feels like maybe—just maybe—this is the first real conversation you’ve had in years.

and that’s enough for now.

the cabin feels smaller when you get back, and the weight of jungkook’s presence only makes it tighter. the group’s immediately apologizing, teasing him about the oil run, their words sharp but light. 

“we totally forgot, man,” taehyung says, looking guilty. “guess you guys are our personal delivery service.”

jungkook doesn’t respond, his face already scrunching into an exaggerated grimace as he heads straight to the kitchen to help. you’re unsure if it’s from irritation or just sheer exhaustion.

maybe both, you think as you follow him. 

but the moment passes quickly, and you’re both swept back into the warmth of the group’s energy.

it’s dinner time soon after, and the room is buzzing. the conversation is loud, comfortable, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. jungkook and you sit across from each other, the space between you both thick and quiet. your presence seems to be the only thing that pulls him from his usual nonchalance—every time you speak, even the smallest comment, he cracks a smile, almost like he can’t help it.

yoongi catches it first, raising an eyebrow at jungkook. 

“what’s up with you, kid? you only smile when ___ talks. what? the rest of us aren’t funny enough for you?” his voice is teasing but his gaze lingers, as if looking for something more.

jungkook rolls his eyes, brushing it off with a half-hearted scoff. 

mei, sitting next to yoongi, shakes her head. she nudges you and you laugh it off. then, you lift your face and meet jungkook’s eyes. he offers you a short-lived smile. 

you take it. 

the jokes keep coming, but the way jungkook’s eyes flick to you each time you speak doesn’t go unnoticed. 

it’s subtle, the way his lips curve just a little, how his eyes soften just a fraction whenever you make a joke or offer your thoughts. but it’s enough. the others catch it, too, exchanging glances behind their drinks, a quiet realization settling between them.

after dinner, everyone migrates to the living room, pulling chairs and sofas closer to the fire. taehyung sets up the drinks, jin and hobi are already messing with the fire, adding logs with unnecessary dramatic flair, and namjoon is flipping through a deck of cards.

“we should play charades,” jimin suggests, his voice light as he pours more wine into his glass.

“charades? yeah, we could use some entertainment,” jin agrees, his gaze drifting between the group. “but i’m not going easy on you guys.”

you end up on the same team as jungkook.

when it’s your turn to act out a word, you both fall into an easy rhythm. your gestures are sharp and exaggerated, and jungkook picks up on your cues instantly, his movements smooth and fluid. there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your eyes meet for half a second before you both act out the next part of the clue. 

honestly, it’s like no time has passed since you last did this, and everyone else watches with mild surprise, the chemistry between you two almost palpable.

nam joon and taehyung share an amused glance, their eyes widening slightly, while jin snorts quietly. 

��okay, okay, we get it. you two are too good at this,” jimin says, shaking his head with a laugh.

“they’re like a team built for charades,” namjoon mutters, and yoongi, always perceptive, smirks.

“it’s like they can read each other’s minds,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you both. “almost makes me uncomfortable.”

you can feel the weight of their glances, the way they subtly watch every interaction, waiting for something to shift. and when the game finally wraps up, everyone is drunk, laughter louder and voices more relaxed.

conversation moves from silly jokes to more serious topics, the kind that happens when the alcohol hits just right. somehow, everyone feels like they’re safe enough to let their guard down.

hoseok mentions work—how it’s been a mess lately, how nothing seems to be going right, and the conversation shifts into the stress of adulthood, of managing expectations and responsibilities.

“sometimes it feels like i’m drowning in it,” hoseok admits, rubbing his temples. “i mean, we’re doing okay, but god, it’s like every time i take a breath, there’s another problem.”

“sounds about right,” taehyung agrees, sipping his drink. “adulting sucks.”

the conversation flows around you, but then someone cracks a joke, and you reply with your usual snark. jungkook chuckles, and it’s a real, honest laugh, something that sounds familiar, something that feels like the version of him you used to know.

bria, who’s been quiet for most of the night, turns her gaze to jungkook, her eyes flicking between him and you with a raised brow. it’s obvious she’s drunk, so jungkook mentally prepares for the worst. 

“jungkook?”

“what do you want?” he sighs. “you’re drunk so choose your words carefully, bria. last time we talked while you were drunk like this, i made you cry for an hour.”

bria rolls her eyes at jungkook. 

“guess it’s my turn then,” she inhales deeply. “my turn to make you cry.”

jungkook gulps, but he tries his best to mask his fear. 

he knows exactly who she’s gonna target. 

“yah, do you think you’re slick or something?” bria asks. “why do you always laugh at ___'s jokes but no one else’s? you look at her and practically salivate. are you a dog? do you like her or something?” 

the group goes quiet. 

it’s then everyone realizes that it’s bria’s first cabin trip. even yoongi, who’s usually too aloof for moments like this, pauses, his gaze sharp as it flicks between you and jungkook. there’s a tension, thick enough to make your chest tighten, and you feel the eyes of the group on you.

it’s like the breath has been knocked out of the room. bria’s words hang between you and jungkook, heavy and unwelcome.

for a second, no one says anything.

you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way everything seems to slow down. 

your mind races. 

“we’re exes.”

bria’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “oh, shit… fuck, right. yeah. i remember now… i guess it never clicked because i’ve only known you for a few months…”

“yeah,” jimin pulls bria close. he gestures towards the direction of their room. she shakes her head, refusing his obvious cue. “babe, let’s get you to bed—”

“no, wait… just w-wait. you and ___? but you two... are literally perfect for each other. what happened?” bria blurts, her tone genuine and almost searching.

you catch the way jungkook’s body tenses up.

from across the group, you chase for his eyes. they meet for the first time all night and you swear—there’s a flicker of something there. 

something soft and promising. 

something almost like love, but a lot like loss. 

as quickly as you see it, it fades away. so, you offer him a soft smile. then, shake your head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. it’s a signal.

don’t answer.

but he doesn’t look away.

and then, as if the silence is unbearable, jungkook speaks, his voice low but steady, almost like it’s been waiting to come out for too long.

“i fucked up,” jungkook admits. “i fucked up like everyone said i would.”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader (past)

Summary: After last years incident you don't know if you can move on, but Wanda shows you how real love feels.

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Nat cheats

AU: Pietro is alive :D

Author's note: Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on making another fic for Christmas, but I was listening to Christmas music while wrapping and well here you go~

Snow was gently falling in New York making everything feel more magical. All the decor was up, the tree fully lit at the Rockefeller center and people were bustling more than usual to get their Christmas shopping done. 

You were trying to pick a gift out for your secret Santa, Wanda. Tony did this every year for his holiday party. You really weren't in the mood for it this year, but you were trying…after last Christmas things didn't feel as magical. 

Last Year

“Come on Tasha! We're gonna be late if you take any longer on your make-up!” You playfully called out. She smirked at you through the mirror. 

“Don't worry Detka, we'll make it.” Her sultry voice wrapped around you. You looked her over as she stood; a tight short black dress, tights, heels to match. Her hair was pulled into a fancy braid she'd mentioned the name of earlier, but you couldn't remember it. 

The party was in full swing by the time you two arrived. You were in fact upset about it because Natasha knows how you hate to be late because of your anxiety. As soon as you set your gift on the table for secret Santa Natasha was gone in the crowd. Interacting with the boys and Maria. You frowned, but went to grab some finger foods and a drink while you found the twins and Vision. The three of them are talking about experiencing Christmas for the first time. 

You sat yourself next to Wanda with the boys across the table on another couch. The four of you talking for a bit before you realized Natasha hadn't come to find you. 

A pout covered your mouth as you got up, “I'll be back guys I'm gonna go check on Tasha.” You excused yourself making your way through the crowd of people, looking everywhere until in the corner of your eye, her dress caught your eye. Your head turning and the glass in your hand falling with a sharp crash to the tiled floor. 

Natasha was kissing Maria. 

You were noticed by many including Natasha who looked like she had regret on her face. Not for the kiss itself, but because she was caught. 

You walked out of that party and didn't look back. 

Present Day

You got yourself ready, looking over yourself in the mirror and then at the clock. You'd be a little early which was perfect. You grabbed your gift for Wanda. It was perfect for her. It was a few different things. 

Tony never had limits on how much to spend. If you got him as your secret Santa you could expect a car or a new place to live.

You got there, hugging Tony with a smile. “I'm surprised you decided to actually come. You even have your gift!” Tony said surprised. You gave him a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah I wasn't sure if I'd come at first after last year I felt sick thinking about it and about seeing her. I gave her my heart Tony…she gave it away. I decided if I did come this year then…I'd give it to someone special…” you explained to him. Tony was like your annoying older brother. You told him a lot of your problems and he was happy to listen. 

He gave you another hug, a nice tight one where you could smell his cologne clearly, making your nose scrunch up a bit.

“Go get her.” He whispered before letting go. 

It was hours into the party. You'd spent the whole time with the twins. Vision had gone off to talk with Tony at some point and now it was time for secret Santa. You got up, grabbing your gift to Wanda and you were surprised to see she had you as well.

The two of you laughed, deciding to go find her old room in the tower so you two could have a quiet moment to open each other's gifts. 

You both sat across from each other, she was cross legged in her usual black skirt and thigh highs, a low cut tank top and a dark gray cardigan fell off one shoulder that she kept fixing. Rings adorned all her fingers, some having multiple. You smiled as you gave her your gift. 

“Open yours first Wands.” You insisted, making her giggle which had your stomach doing flips. Biting the inside of your cheek to try to hide the effect the witch had on you. 

She opened up the bag that contained a few wrapped gifts. 

“You didn't have to get me so much.” She said with her honeyed accent. 

“I couldn't decide…they all felt like they were perfect for you.” You saw the barely There blush that covered her cheeks as she refused to look up from unwrapping. 

You'd gotten her a new mug that said village witch with a little graphic of a witches hut, the smoke coming out of it a ghost. The next gift was a variety pack of different teas from around the world. The last gift you'd gotten her was a new set of tarot cards. 

“Oh y/n! These are amazing and I love them! I can't wait to try the teas and you're getting the first reading with this tarot deck.” She said, leaning forward to hug you tight. “Now it's your turn!” She squealed excitedly. 

You smiled, taking the gift from her, opening it up, your jaw dropped. You just stared for a minute, speechless before looking up at her. 

“You…you made me a burr basket?” you asked dumbfounded. 

You'd asked Natasha for boo baskets and burr baskets and she never got them or made them and it hurt every time. 

“Yeah you kept talking about them so I wanted to make you one. I hope I did it right. I watched a bunch of tiktoks on making them and how others had them.” She rambled out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, there was a blanket, slippers, flannel pj's pants, a face mask, eye mask, a little holiday squishmallow, lip balm, your favorite perfume, and some seasonal chocolate. 

“W-Wands…I…i don't have words this is…I…” you physically couldn't form words. You looked up at her and realized the only thing you could do to say thank you was kiss her. 

You moved the gifts out of the way, crawling forward and letting your lips brush against hers, when she didn't pull away you pushed into her, letting your lips pressed together. Your hand cupped her cheek as her lips started to move against yours. 

When you both needed air you pulled back just a little, your foreheads touching. 

“I wasn't expecting that as a thank you, but I won't lie…I've been wanting you to kiss me like that since I came to America…” she confessed. How had you not noticed what was right in front of you this whole time?

“Wands…would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” You ask softly.

“I thought you'd never ask.” She practically growled before kissing you again. 

This wouldn't be like with Natasha. You knew this was different. You could feel it. 

She was your someone special.

[sc0tters]

What If I’m Cold? | Mat Barzal

summary: when one winter night gets a little cold, Mat has the perfect solution to help you fall asleep.

requested: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!) unprotected p in v, cock warming, swearing.

word count: 2.31k

authors note: merry Christmas to all those celebrating! I really did want to get something out for him for Christmas and I gave up on a different idea so we instead used him for another smut!

You hated the cold.

The different scarves and excuse to stay home and watch Christmas movies with your hot chocolate, couldn’t amount to the way you hated the cold.

Your body would freeze and it seemed that the moment the weather broke through the many layers you were constantly forced into, you were fucked. Most people loved how the snow made the perfect excuse to stay inside, and how the rain made a serene lullaby.

The summer was where you thrived, frozen margaritas and long days in the sun with picnics on the beach were your summer. But as you lived in New York, you had no choice but to suck it up.

That was how you ended up looking as if you were auditioning to be a cocoon with all the layers of thick blankets and duvets on top of you. The heat was as high as it could go without him fully burning up from next to you.

“Baby I can feel you fidgeting.”

The words made you freeze as you looked at the clock seeing the time on his bedside table reading 3:00 in red illuminated numbers “I can’t sleep.” You whined still feeling your cold feet, that hadn’t seemed to warm.

It made him smile as he finally opened his eyes “and what am I meant to do about that?” Mat blinked rolling over to face you.

Even after four and a half years of living together, the sight of your cold body in bed never failed to make him laugh as you really did believe that you couldn’t have enough blankets. His eyes felt as if they dug into your soul “I don’t know.” You batted your eyelashes as you let your foot settle between his legs wanting to warm them up.

It resulted in a high pitched screech that came from his lips as he almost jumped out of your bed “fuck me you’re freezing!” Mat yelled making you softly laugh.

The gesture was innocent as you let a giggle slip from your lips “‘s not my fault.” You grumbled watching him get settled back into his side of the bed.

There was this comfort that settled over you both as he let out a yawn “just try to get some sleep.” His voice was soothing as he watched you frown “can you at least cuddle me?” You pleaded letting out a whine as he remained silent.

“Please.” You begged, dragging out the E making him click his tongue “c’mere.” He mumbled moving the blankets up so that you could crawl into the space next to him. The move was quick as you weren’t going to waste any time, incase he hesitated or even changed his mind.

A snow storm had settled over New York in the late hours of the previous day, so as many cheered for the definite white Christmas. You were cursing the way the cold practically nipped at your soul “stupid snow.” You grumbled causing a laugh to erupt from his lips as he kissed the lobe of your ear.

His hands wrapped around the waistband of your pants. He always found it so funny that even with your hatred of winter, you loved those long Christmas pyjamas.

You softly nodded as you let your eyes travel to the picture on bedside table. It was a framed one of the two of you, grinning as Mat had convinced you to join him for a skate at the Rockerfeller Center. Oh how you laughed so hard that day as you could barely stand upright without landing on your ass.

Mat could feel that you remained awake, even as he tried to let his slumber consume him “what is it baby?” His voice way rough, echoing in your ears “I promise I’ll go to sleep soon.” You tried to brush it off, wanting him to not be tarred with the same lack of sleep as you.

But after all these years, Mat knew that you weren’t just going to fall asleep. In fact, you would happily stare into the abyss until the sun rose if you couldn’t fall asleep.

So instead Mat did the only thing he could as he let his hand grip at your hip “baby.” His voice was sweet as he peppered the side of your neck with kisses.

It made your breath hitch as you gripped at the pillow beneath you “let me warm you up.” Mat knew his suggestions were right as he felt you drive your body back into his.

You rolled over again, getting to look up at him as he smiled “you don’t have to.” You let your cold hands run over his collarbone, a purple hickey decorated the one “ain’t gotta worry about being cold my pretty girl.” Mat cooed as he tucked his fingers through the ends of your hair.

His words made your thighs clench together. He took little effort to get on top of you as he smiled “always did love these on you.” Mat confessed toyed with the buttons on pink pj top that was complimented by blue bows “but I know they are better off.” His voice was devious as he kissed you.

The feeling of his stubble was rough against your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to care as you could taste the minty toothpaste that he had used only a couple of hours ago.

You melted into his touch as he tilted your jaw getting more access as his tongue swiped across your lower lip as he pulled away, pressing soft kisses against your jaw and slowly traveled down your neck “please Matty.” You begged feeling his hands press under your shirt before he began to open the buttons.

Mat sat up to look at you as if he was admitting a statue crafted by the gods “can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” You propped yourself up when you watched him shimmy under the covers, making you realise that you weren’t as cold as you once felt.

The hockey player pulled your pants down, letting out a hum of praise as you lifted your hips to help him “always been my prefect girl.” Mat pressed a kiss against each of your thighs as he let his hand cup your cunt, feeling just how soaked you were.

As the anticipation got the better of you, you pulled the sheet up to see his tooth grin staring back at you “oh fuck-” you brought your hand up to cup your mouth as he chuckled “ain’t even done nothing yet doll.” He smirked reaching his hand up to tug on your arm.

You didn’t put up a fight as you nodded “you know that moaning helps you warm up.” Mat didn’t give you a chance to respond as he ran his tongue through your folds “god!”you arched your back driving your hips further into his hold.

His fingers soon followed suit as he latched his lips into your clit whilst he let his fingers thrust into your cunt “such a sweet cunt.” Mat grunted sending shivers through your body “all for me too ain’t it?” He smiled tugging at your hips.

You nodded as he went back to lapping at you as if you were his last meal “always yours Mat.” You moaned allowing your fingers to latch into his locks of hair.

The feeling of his facial hair against your cunt was a sensation that you had grown to love during the November months as the team always feel into a movember bet of sorts.

His hand slid up your stomach to your breast as he let your nipple roll between his fingers “holy fuck Mat.” Your eyes screwed shut as you pushed your head into your pillow.

There was a pornographic moan that left your lips as your cunt clenched around his fingers that made his cock grow hard as he let his tongue swirl around your sensitive bud. He opted to change to his middle and ring ringer as he could sense that you were close.

Your thighs began to tense around his head “I-i.” Your voice stammered as your chest heaved “I know sweet girl, just let it go.” His blessing made you pant and your body shook.

Mat curved his fingers into a come here motion as the movement of his tongue became needy, as if he was craved your release just as much as you did.

His name fell in a steady stream of repetition as you rolled your hips against his face as your vision grew dark with whit stars painted across your eyelids “so sweet.” He smirked as his lips left your cunt with a pop as he sucked at his fingers whilst he stared at dazed eyes.

A soft smile formed on your lips as your eyes traveled down his body, as if you took a mental image of chiseled torso all the way down to his bulge that popped in his grey boxers “still think I’m pretty cold.” There was cheekiness in your voice as the boy smirked “is that so?” He asked as you nodded.

It was amusing how after all these years the two of you never seemed to lose that playful joy that lived within this relationship.

Mat would have pulled you on top of him but the sight in front of him, was one for the sorest of eyes “still so needy.” He clicked his tongue as he leaned down with barely any space between you both “that’s the pot calling the kettle black.” You rolled your eyes as you placed your hands on his cheeks bringing him into a kiss.

His hips dragged against yours making you jump as your cunt was still sensitive “fucker!” You grumbled as Mat let his head drop to the crook of your neck as he laughed.

The boy left his head there as he focused on tugging down the waistband of his boxers “shit I need you so bad.” He nipped at your shoulder whilst he pumped the swollen head of his cock a few times “please baby.” Your nails scratched along his spine as he nodded.

His cock tapped your clit twice before he dragged the head down your slit as he placed his free hand next to your head, allowing him to prop himself up as he stared into your eyes “fucking hell.” Your hand gripped his wrist as he let his cock get swallowed by your cunt until pubic bone was met with your hips.

The way your walls stretched to the shape of his cock at an instant was enough to make him contemplate cumming on the spot “Mat.” Your voice barely broke a whisper as he nodded, beginning to pull away from you.

A mix of street and Christmas lights shone through a crack in the curtain as it hit the gold necklace that sat around your neck with the little M comfortable between your breasts.

The sight made him grow feral almost as he lifted your thighs wrapping your legs around him “you feel so good.” Mat cooed beginning to thrust his cock deeper into your cunt with the new angle.

Mat kissed your lips as you let out a whimper “just like that.” You whimpered sending him a nod as your lips hung open, lost in the pleasure you felt as he fucked you “shit.” The hockey players eyebrows furrowed as you clenched around him feeling his cock throb.

His eyes traveled down to see where your skin smacked against his as he let out a grunt “wanna hear you.” Mat kissed at your neck, sucking new bruises that were sure to leave a mark.

You let your lip get caught between your teeth as you let your hips grind against his, desperate to chase your high “please.” You nodded letting your hands scratched his back.

Mat continued to hit all the right spots as he let his thumb fall to your clit “just like that.” Your moans echoed against the walls around you as tears formed in your eyes.

Pleasure clouded your mind “fuck Mat so good.” You whimpered feeling your body spasm against him as your toes curled.

For Mat that was what sent him over the ended as his release shot ropes against your walls as his head rested on top of yours “that was so fucking hot.” You swore feeling him pull out of you.

Mat smiled as he rolled off of you, watching as the mix of both of your releases oozed out of your cunt “atta’ girl.” He pressed a kiss against your temple as you let out a yawn “finally gonna get to sleep now huh?” Mat asked as he lay down back on his own side as you let your legs shut whilst he used his hand to bring your pants up.

Just as the boy let his eyes shut you let out a sigh loud enough for him to look at you “what?” He asked seeing that your arms were clearly buttoning up your top.

You let your smile grow as you sucked at your teeth “what if I get cold during the night?” The silence that hung around you both, made it clear he was listening and had taken the bait.

His hands were rough against your stomach as your pants were pulled down just enough for him to move your legs open “you happy?” Mat scoffed thrusting his cock back into your cunt knowing that he was still hard and your cunt was slick with lust and release.

You nodded feeling him kiss your head “absolutely fabulous.” You clenched around his cock feeling him slowly continue to thrust his cock before he let it stop.

His fingers slowly toyed with your cunt as if he was coaxing you into your slumber“such a fucking brat.” He grumbled letting his legs entangle yours “yeah but I’m your brat.”

[chancloud8]

Christmas Love {2}

Pairing: bf!skz x reader

Tags: fluff, sugestive

~ gift giving based on this fake texts smau

part 2: minho, seungmin, jeongin

-> read part 1 with chan, hyunjin, jisung and changbin here

Minho - Visiting cats at the shelter

The local shelter is a familiar place for both you and Minho. Three of the five cats you have at home come from here and you also try and volunteer whenever you can, so when you walk in, hand in hand with your boyfriend, multiple people greet you by name. 

‘I can’t wait to see all the kitties, it’s been a while since we’ve been here and they always get so many new strays around the holiday,’ you say, leaning your head against Minho’s shoulder. 

‘Yeah, one of the reasons I hate people,’ Minho murmurs and you chuckle.

‘Just so you know, we're only bringing home one cat,’ you say, wagging your finger in his face as a warning. ‘So don't go falling in love with siblings or duo's that have to stick together.’ 

Minho snorts and snaps at your finger with his teeth. ‘I should be telling you, kitten, remember last time?’ 

‘We're not talking about that right now,’ you reply, poking your tongue out at him. ‘We both have a weakness and we know it.’ 

The two of you easily find your way into the shelter, wave at the people behind the counter and then slip into the room where some of the cats are allowed to wander around and play with each other. Immediately multiple cats come running your way, rubbing their bodies against your legs and purring loudly. 

‘Aww hey, guys,’ you coo, getting down on your knees to properly pet them. 

Minho does the same, sitting down cross legged and within seconds there’s a cat on his lap and one on his shoulder, sniffing his hair. You laugh as he lifts the cat off his shoulder by the nape of his neck. 

‘Bad kitty, you can’t just climb people like a tree,’ he scolds the cat, setting it down beside him. 

‘You sure about that baby?’ you tease, scratching the orange cat next to you behind his ears. ‘What if I want to climb you like a tree?’ 

Minho gives you a heated look. ‘You’re the only exception to that rule.’ 

‘How is that fair?’ you laugh as you get up, walking further into the room to greet the cats that don’t dare to come closer right away. 

‘Life isn’t always fair,’ Minho shrugs. 

You roll your eyes and bend down when you see a small black cat with big green eyes staring at you from underneath one of the cat trees. 

‘Hello gorgeous,’ you say softly, holding out your hand for the cat to sniff if he wants too. 

At first he just looks at it like he’s never seen a human hand before, but then his nostrils flare and his ears twitch as he slowly stretches his neck to reach your fingers. You stay as still as you can to not scare him away and after a few seconds the cat slowly moves forward, its body staying close to the ground. 

‘That’s it, come say hi,’ you coo, keeping your hand still. 

‘Oh he’s adorable,’ Minho pipes up from behind you. ‘Look at his eyes.’ 

The cat lifts his head when he hears Minho’s voice, but he doesn’t run away. 

‘He’s going to need a lot of love,’ you say as the cat turns its beautiful eyes on you again. 

‘Good thing we have plenty to give,’ Minho smiles, shuffling closer to you and the black cat until he’s behind you, his chest touching your back. ‘Cause I don’t think we’re leaving here without him.’ 

You turn your head to look at him, a grin already on your face. ‘Really?’ 

Minho presses his lips to your temple in a soft caress. ‘Really.’

Seungmin - Pink collar

At first you didn’t plan on actually getting the collar, thinking Seungmin was only joking when you asked anyway, but the more you thought about it, the clearer it became to you that he wasn’t joking. He had hinted about it before, showing you images of other collars while wiggling his eyebrows, but you’ve always laughed it away, thinking he was just teasing. 

You also knew he liked wrapping his long fingers around your throat when you were being intimate together, as well as pulling on any necklace you'd wear. So, after careful consideration, you decided to buy the collar he sent you as his christmas present. You also got him his favorite perfume, a new sweater and some of his favorite snacks, just in case it had been a joke after all. If he didn't really want it, then at least you could laugh about it. 

‘What’s up with you tonight, babe?’ Seungmin asks, placing his hand on your thigh when you nervously shift in your chair again. 

‘Nothing,’ you smile at him, putting your hand on top of his. ‘I’m just excited to give you your presents.’ 

Seungmin raises his eyebrows at you and his eyes scan your face carefully. 

‘I promise Minnie,’ you say when he keeps looking at you. ‘Now eat your food.’ 

Your boyfriend however has other plans and pushes his chair back. ‘Nope, I can’t enjoy your delicious cooking when you’re anxious. Come on,’ he says, holding out his hand for you. 

You sigh in defeat and place your hand in his so he can help you up, it’s no use arguing with him anyways. Seungmin interlaces your fingers together and leads you to the living room, only stopping until you’re in front of the Christmas tree. 

‘I still have dessert, you know,’ you say when he turns around to face you. 

‘We can have it after,’ he replies, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. ‘Do you want to start or shall I?’ 

You reach down to grab one of his gifts, the perfume, because you’re too much of a chicken to give him the collar right away. 

‘Here, Merry Christmas love,’ you smile, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips while giving him the wrapped present. 

Seungmin frowns when he sees the perfume and your heart sinks when he looks up at you. Shit. Did he not like this perfume anymore? 

‘This is what you were anxious about?’ he asks, pulling you close to him. Oh. ‘Baby–’ 

‘No, no,’ you hurriedly interrupt him. ‘It’s another present.’ 

‘Okay,’ Seungmin says. ‘I’m sure I love whatever you give me, I always have.’ 

You grab the small box from under the tree, eyeing it for another moment in hesitation, before putting it in Seungmins hands. 

‘Open it, but keep in mind that you asked for it and it’s totally okay if you don’t like it.’

Seungmin rolls his eyes at you and takes off the lid, exposing the pink collar. It has the pink bow in the middle, just like the picture it send 

Seungmin blinks, and then blinks again.

When he looks up at you again you can't quite figure out what the look in his eyes mean, but it makes your stomach flutter anyways.

Seungmin carefully takes the collar out of the box.

‘Turn around,’ he says. No, he orders.

Heat spreads to your cheeks and neck, but you do as he asks, lifting your hair up for him so he can put it on. The cool leather touches your skin and you shiver when you feel Seungmin's fingers at the back of your neck where he fastens the collar.

You turn back to him to see his eyes locked on your neck in fascination while his fingers come up to touch it.

‘It looks absolutely incredible on you,’ he groans.

You giggle and bring your own hands up to touch the leather as well. ‘So you like it?’

Seungmin's eyes meet yours and then he hooks his finger under the collar to pull you close.

‘I more than like it, I love it and I think we should skip dessert and head upstairs.’ Without waiting for a reply, his lips are on yours and he starts to walk the two of you backwards and out of the living room.

Jeongin - Matching pyjama’s 

‘No,’ Jeongin says, shaking his head. ‘Nope, nu-uh.’ 

In his hands he’s holding the soft pink pyjama bottoms you bought for the both of you. The fabric is covered in Hello Kitty's and bows in a darker shade of pink. 

‘You said not to get you the grinch pyjamas,’ you pout at him. ‘And you look great in pink!’ 

Jeongin shakes his head again, putting the pyjama’s down on his lap. ‘I’m not sure what’s worse, the grinch ones or these.’ 

‘Obviously not these, we’re going to look so cute together!’ you giggle, leaning against your boyfriend to press a kiss on his cheek. 

‘We’re always cute,’ Jeongin says, taking a hold of your chin to keep you close so he can properly kiss you. 

You hum against his lips and kiss him back, moving your mouth over his. It’s soft and sweet, and when you pull back you feel warm and fuzzy and loved. 

‘I got you something else too,’ you whisper, blindly grabbing the present from under the tree where you put it not too long ago. 

Jeongin accepts the box you set down in his hands, eying you curiously before carefully undoing the bow and opening it. 

‘Oh,’ he gasps. ‘Y/N, it’s beautiful!’ 

Inside the box is a silver bracelet you designed yourself along with a matching pinky ring. You had one for yourself as well. 

‘Do you like it? I didn’t know what to get you, but I figured some new jewelry would never hurt,’ you smile. 

Jeongin looks up at you with sparkling eyes. ‘Like it? I love it, baby. Will you help me put it on?’ 

You let out a sigh of relief and take the box from him, carefully taking out the ring first. Jeongin holds out his hand and you gently slide the ring on his pinky. 

‘This feels weird,’ Jeongin laughs. ‘I should be the one slipping a ring on your finger.’ 

‘Then you should be getting down on one knee,’ you wink, picking up the bracelet next. 

Jeongin freezes, but only for a second and you look up at him in confusion. 

‘You know I’m joking right. I mean, of course I want you to ask me one day, but I’m not like expecting anything now or soon, or I don’t know in the near future,’ you ramble, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

‘Hey hey, look at me,’ Jeongin says, his fingers once again grasping your chin as his eyes lock onto yours. ‘I will ask you to marry me. Not today, but I will.’ 

You gape at him and he grins, leaning in close to nuzzle your noses together. 

‘One day you’ll be Mrs. Yang.’

a/n: Happy Christmas Day everyone!! Part 3 with Felix will probably be up tomorrow, I wasn't able to start his yet and it's family time now :) Hope you enjoy <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade

[cocoamide]

YOU'RE MY WISHLIST! ♡

⟡ synopsis ─ gojo satoru's the man who seems to be everywhere you go, whether it be within the comfort of your own home or miles away from the place. well, guess what happens when you show up looking a little too fine at your college's annual christmas eve party?

꣑ৎ content ─ MDNI, brother'sbsf!satoru / collegesenior!satoru x afab!reader, reader is suguru's younger sister, no use of y/n, reader can't escape him, suggestive content, reader is in love w/ gojo (and vice versa), intentional use of lowercase, usage of pet names e.g baby, pretty, good girl, etc., smut in the form of fingering, and probably more idk

◖word count — 2.6k

☆ credits ─ live laugh love @anitalenia 4 the gorgeous divider <3 no specific inspiration for this fic, just felt like writing one fueled by my christmas spirit (i have never celebrated christmas in my life, so if u caught me lacking, no u didn't!)

꩜ author's note ─ first fic ever & ofc it's ft. my man !! i'm not v satisfied with this work and it was really rushed towards the end, so feedback is much appreciated :3 merry xmas to all those celebrating and happy holidays ♡ title's from "a nonsense christmas" by sabrina carpenter :3

when you left home for college, you were certain you’d outrun the real-life horrors of your past— your parents' scoldings, the shitty food served at your school's cafeteria, the fake people you were surrounded by, and most importantly, your brother's best friend, gojo satoru, who just seemed to get finer with every single passing day.

the man was, for some reason, genetically white-haired all over. yeah, he had albinism, but god, the sight of him was no less than breath-taking. his sparkling, cerulean orbs, which glowed mesmerizingly both under the moonlight and the sun, seemed more and more enchanting with each passing moment. as the years went by with him by your brother's side, you told yourself to look away, refusing to acknowledge the feelings that flickered inside whenever you saw him. you did whatever you could to let go of them— tried to distract yourself with the shittiest of boyfriends, avoided him at school, locked yourself up in your room whenever he came over to hang out with your brother, you name it.

however, it seemed that luck hated, no, despised your embrace no matter how much you yearned for it, considering how the menace was always hovering around, inserting himself into your life at the most inconvenient moments. you're rehearsing for a school play in an empty classroom? the next thing you know, he has an arm propped around your shoulder and smiling at you in the most stupidly handsome way ever with a lollipop in his mouth as he asks you to just... practice with him around. oh, you're trying to get him off of you now? he'll steal your script before you can escape him and raise his hand up as high in the air as possible so you can't reach it. "hey, give it back!" you exclaim, only to be met by a smug smirk on his face and the most annoying "nuh-uh." he completely refuses unless you promise to not kick him out until the practice session is over.

you're walking back home with your brother, suguru? oops, gojo is there too! he's ruffling your hair no matter how pissed you get and yell at him; he only finds joy and pleasure in seeing you in this enraged state. whether he was a sadist, masochist, or simply insane, you did not know.

so, starting college felt like stepping into freedom. no more conversations centered around satoru, no more being so pissed you lose your voice from screaming, and no more late-night sob sessions everytime he got a new girlfriend.

however, it seemed that you'd forgotten that the stars didn't quite align for you, and the universe had decided to remind you of that very fact by ensuring that satoru received enough distinctions to be able to transfer universities. oh, and of course, the one he'd chosen just had to be the one you'd decided to spend the next 4 years of your life in. it wasn't until after you’d moved into your dorm and started your classes that you found out.

the first time you saw him around campus, you were freaked the fuck out. nevertheless, you simply assumed he was visiting a friend or relative and dismissed the sight.

however, much to your dismay, you discovered that he was, in fact, a senior at your college—a 2nd year, to be exact. it wouldn't be an understatement to assume you nearly had a heart attack when you found out, considering how this was the same guy who used to have a 2.6 gpa back in high school. when did he even start taking his studies seriously and lock in hard enough to meet the criteria and eligibility for your university, one of the most prestigious in the entire country? instead of rooting for you, fate just had to be your biggest hater.

every single time you saw him around, gojo would come up to you to exchange greetings and obviously, tease you about the most embarrassing things from your past while his obnoxious fangirls stared you the fuck down, wondering why he's so close to you even though you're just a freshman who should have nothing to do with him.

what surprised you more, however, was that you sometimes shared the same sentiment as them because you were definitely never this close with satoru. not in all the years your brother used to hang out with him, or all the times you'd seen each other on family dinners. sure, he'd teased you plenty, but he had no real concern or curiosity towards you. you found him walking you to classes, treating you to coffee and meals, buying you all the snacks you could ever need during exam preparations and so much more that you could never even list down.

and worst of all, the feelings you'd so desperately pushed away in the past had now creeped their way back into your heart and embedded every inch of your soul even deeper.

it struck you then—satoru’s actions might not be out of pure obligation. that would’ve been far too simple, too detached for someone like satoru. maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it, something unspoken lingering beneath it all. you couldn’t say for sure if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it felt personal, like you mattered in a way that went beyond the promises he'd made to your elder brother and family.

but still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just in your head. satoru’s actions, the way he treated you—it didn’t necessarily mean what you thought it did. it could be nothing—satoru’s actions didn’t have to mean anything. maybe you were just fooling yourself, letting your feelings cloud your judgment. so, you buried them as deep as you could, pushing them aside, telling yourself that letting go was the only way to protect yourself from the uncertainty. it was easier to convince yourself that you were just being delusional instead of facing what could be very real.

although, you do seriously question your latter supposition at your annual college christmas eve party when satoru, dressed in the sexiest 3-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with a black tie, has you pinned against the door of the nearest bathroom. if haven't had the opportunity to pay enough attention to his luminous, cerulean eyes up until now, you do at this very moment when he's staring at you like a predator would at it's prey.

"satoru," you let out a breath you weren't aware of holding, "what are you doing?" gojo, whose gaze had shifted down to your lips, let out a chuckle. "oh, so it's satoru now," he murmured, his hand pushing your hair behind your ear. "fine, 'toru..," you pronounce, going back to the nickname you'd started calling him during the while you'd spent with him. "that's more like it." his eyes meet yours again, conveying the desire and thirst that stirred within him— for how long, nobody knows.

the air around you two was thicker than usual, laced with tension as well as something… else. "you still haven't answered my question." upon your words, the white-haired man's face broke out into a cupid-induced smile, the most beautiful you'd ever seen. "well," his right thumb traced the outline of your lips so light as if you'd break from further pressure, "i thought you looked beautiful." what he says renders you speechless, your throat gone dry and your cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose (in his eyes, at least.) "you always do, but even more so today." and if you weren't already a flustered mess, you would most certainly be now.

your reaction only draws a smirk on his face, and he decides to tease you a little more. "so, on that note, what do you think i'm doing?," his voice lowers as his hand traces its way down to your neck. "i... uh- i don't know... you tell me." satoru grins, only wanting to push you further.

"yeah? how about i show you instead?" and a mere instant later, his lips come crashing down on yours— you couldn't say you hadn't been expecting or anticipating it, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the way his warm and impossibly soft lips felt against yours. initially, you froze, and you came to realise that all the possibilities you'd once ignored were now very much real.

it wasn't a bad thing— no, nowhere near it, maybe even one of the best that could ever happen to you. however, it did feel like too much of a development to be able to process in a matter of seconds.

upon the realisation that you hadn't responded to his advances, satoru pulled back from the kiss, seeming rather puzzled. "was i wrong?" he inquires, voice lower and deeper than it normally would be.

the melodic sound of his voice is what breaks your trance and serves as your call back to reality. you wanted to say no, reach for his collar, get on your tip-toes and lean in to kiss him, but you were stuck in place. you couldn't find your voice or your words, and it felt like your heels were superglued to the tiles of the bathroom floor.

if it hadn't already been obvious, you'd been yearning for this moment for god knows how long, and now that it was handed to you on a sliver platter, you couldn't simply pass up on it. being well aware of the fact that this encounter could change your and satoru's relationship for either the better or the worse, you took a deep breath, cupped the sides of his face, and tilted your head just enough to be able to kiss the man. your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, if that was possible.

being the way he is, satoru smiled into the kiss and lowered his hands to your hips. he could tell you were pouring each and every emotion from both the past and the present, and of course, he was doing the same.

it was inevitable, really— now that you could feel his skin against yours, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together and figure out that this was all bound to happen, already having been inked into the wondrous book of fate.

and so, for the first time in all the years you'd spent alongside satoru, you could say that the universe was, in fact, rooting for you. the way gojo's lips moved against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world when he pulled away, the way the both of you heavily panted but still chased each other's warmth again barely seconds later, are more than enough confirmation.

"no, you weren't," you reply, feeling giddier than you ever had. "i wasn't what?" his hands caress your cheek with a carefulness that was almost unlike him, and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest (in the best way possible.) "you weren't wrong."

"and i'm still not wrong if i do this?" his large hand reached under your clothes and wandered up to your waist, resting over the skin of the region. "or this?" his mouth had reached your neck, leaving kisses-turned-bites all over, which were sure to transform into hickeys.

"no... no, you're not," you let out breathlessly, unable to escape the fire coursing through your veins at the slightest touch. you wanted more, so much more, and satoru was the only one who could fulfil your needs— not that you would have it any other way.

"you sure, pretty?" the corner of his mouth went up, resulting in a lopsided grin— he was obviously teasing you, that was just the way he was and always had been.

"uh-huh," you nod to reaffirm your statement. "good girl," he breathes out, only contributing to the echoes in the parts of your body which ached for him so badly.

his long fingers played and toyed with the hem of your dress, as if to test the waters. when you didn't resist, his hand sneaked up your thigh, gently fondling the skin.

despite the confidence in his actions, he observed every expression on your face cautiously, ensuring that nothing he did hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. when you show no signs on unease but instead only desire, he goes on to satisfy and soothe your needs.

his fingers traced their way up your inner thighs and lurked over the already soaked fabric of your underwear, bringing about a chuckle from satoru. "so needy for me already, hm?" he remarks, as if his own pants weren't tightening upon the observation.

"shut up, 'toru..." you're trying to regain your composure and keep up an attitude, but to no avail. the fact that he has you exactly where he wants you isn't helping, either. you're even trying to avoid his gaze, but the way you can feel his presence everywhere makes it impossible to do so— besides, he's making you face him again using his index finger and thumb to hold your chin in between, as he whispers out a "look at me, baby."

and when you do, you have to let out a gasp at the sight of him— his disheveled hair which was perfectly tamed at the start of the night, his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you like you're his entire world and his lips that are now slightly bruised and swollen from the kisses you've shared. it was beyond enough to get you all the more hot and bothered.

oh, but that's not the only factor contributing to the sounds you're making— it's also the way he's pulled your panties to the side and is currently tracing your slit ever so slowly. "want more, princess?" nearly mocking tone.

you hardly even manage to let out a hum before his slender fingers are running over the most sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from you. your eyes roll all the way back when one of his digits slides inside you just a moment later— you'd never been this sensitive, but it seems that was going to be entirely different with satoru.

he added one after the other, and now, three of his freakishly large fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly— he was so good with them, you could practically taste your orgasm about to wash over you.

"'m close, satoru," you whimper out almost pathetically, and his fingers are going even deeper now, hitting the spots you'd never even dreamt of reaching on your own. "yeah? is my princess gonna cum for me?" his voice is rough and he's groaning as if he's the one receiving the pleasure.

you can only nod as your arousal overwhelms you, white ropes of cum spurting out from your throbbing hole with one final thrust of his fingers. his entire hand was covered in your fluids, which he brought up to his mouth to be able to savor the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. god, he was an obsessed freak when it came to you.

"ew, satoru! why would you do that?" you hold back a giggle, expressing faux disgust at his actions. he only kisses you in response instead of using his words, making sure you get to taste what he'd drawn out of you as well.

"you think suguru's gonna be mad?" he asks, obviously amused at the idea of your brother enraged when he finds out what you and satoru have done. "oh yeah, definitely." he sweetly presses yet another kiss to your lips.

"if it's at the expense of me getting everything i wished for, i don't care, babe."

@cuntphoric :33

[revelboo]

ayo, would you be able & willing to update either Rodimus or Tarn ? Am loving both of those rn!

Sure- I’ll try to get both updated today if I have time

L.G. Fuad Pt 5

Tarn x Reader

• It’s ludicrous really. Irrational. Weak. Staring up at the ceiling of his habsuite, he’s aware of the way you’re sprawled on his chassis, half out of your tangle of blankets, face against him. Almost positive you’re drooling on him. What would Megatron think? At least one of you is recharging, because he’s been kept alert by your thrashing and twisting. Your skin sometimes hot to the touch and slick with sweat, other times clammy and so cold. At some point, you’d stopped struggling. A little hand outstretched and your fingers against the mesh of his neck as you finally rest. But you survived the night. There were times he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. Hating that he’d been almost concerned.

• Shifting as something gloriously warm slides against your spine from the back of your neck to the curve of your butt, you open your eyes but don’t move. Still too weak and just wanting to sleep. But realizing you’re sprawled on top of your guy with the lovely voice? That he’s absently petting you? You should be embarrassed, but you’re just too exhausted. Rumbling his alien gibberish at you, he touches your jaw with surprising gentleness.

• “You’re alive, then,” he mutters, cupping a hand against you and sitting up. Hearing your noise as you slide down to sprawl against his fingers, your expression uncannily Cybertronian and very obviously unhappy. “If you’re going to tag along, you’re going to learn to listen.” Tone strict, he twists and deposits you on his berth. Tugging your blanket away as you momentarily resist him. “Let’s see how clever you are,” he says as you just flop down, glaring.

• Shivering as he talks at you, attention on your blanket, it takes a moment to realize he’s repeating the same sounds. Eyes narrowing you watch him shake your blanket and say something. And he does it again. Is he trying to teach you? Not that you can hope to repeat those clicking, rumbling whirs of noise. “Blanket. That’s a blanket. I’m cold and it’s mine,” you retort knowing he can’t understand you as you point. And he hesitates. Makes his sound and shakes it again. “Blanket,” you say, refusing to attempt his alien gibberish. You’re too tired for this crap and your head is pounding.

• Optics narrowing as you point and chatter, he’s almost certain you’re saying the same thing in two different languages. Slowly enunciating he says the word in Cybertronian. Then tries to repeat your sound. “Blaaynk-it?” And your little eyes widen as you lunge to your feet only to wobble and fall back down with a grimace. Repeating the word and pointing with both hands. When he gives you the Cybertronian you just scrunch your nose at him. But finally make an attempt. A terrible, incomprehensible attempt. But still. “Good. Very good,” he says reaching to pat you on the head as you swat weakly at him and point more insistently. Ah. Draping the blanket around you, he watches you cocoon yourself. You require positive reinforcement to learn. Some kind of reward.

Previous

But I can still pretend with my memories and photographs,

I have learned to love the lie.

I wanna know what it's like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent.

I wanna know how it feels to be useful and pertinent and have common sense.. yeah

Let me in, let me in to the club, cuz I wanna belong,

And I need to get strong, and if memory serves,

I'm addicted to words and they're useless.

[evilslushy]

hii!! i <3 ur fics, could u write one abt y/n finding out she's pregnant with her bf (hamzah) 's baby, and she tells him in some cute way and maybe with some fluff/smut?? i just feel like hamzah has such a breeder kink that he would love it😭

When the Time Is Right

Husband!Hamzah x f!reader

(A/N): lowkey proofread this (#ChristmasMiracles) I apologize, this is actually horrifically bad. One of the reasons why and honestly—it’s on me! I should’ve made a detailed request rules post! >_< but i hate anything that has to do with pregnancy—being pregnant—anything of that sort! I was really struggling with this and I tried to change it up to them trying for a baby after many failed attempts but… I still think this is HORRIBLE ;( I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me after taking so long to get back to you with a really shitty version of that you asked for </3

High-key angst, mentions of failed attempts of pregnancies, borderline smut but not really, still—MDNI!

wc: 1.3k

As awkward as it is to say out loud, you and Hamzah have been trying for a baby for some time now. And as much as it breaks your heart to see those pregnancy tests showing negative results, it hurts even more to witness the disappointment in Hamzah’s eyes.

You both try to mask your pain with hopeful smiles and encouraging words, but the silence that follows each failed attempt grows heavier. Hamzah, ever the optimist, often reassures you, saying, “It’ll happen when the time is right.” Yet, you’ve caught him more than once staring into the distance, lost in thought, his expression tinged with longing whenever the topic is brought up.

Today was no exception to your previous attempts, your husband sneaking beside you—your eyes meeting his, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?” He uses elbow to prop himself beside you, moving your hair away from your face with his other hand. It rested on your shoulder, messaging it a bit to help set some comfort for you.

“I’m…” you began, but the words stuck in your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried again. “I know how badly you want this.” You looked away briefly, then added, “And I want it too.” You needed him to understand that this wasn’t something you felt pressured into—it was something you both deeply desired.

His face softened, his gaze full of understanding. “I know,” he said quietly. “We can try another day if you just want to sleep tonight.” His hand moved up and down your arm in soothing strokes before slipping down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You shook your head. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he asked gently.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed again.”

He snorted softly, a playful edge to his response. “You’re being ridiculous. Baby, I’m not disappointed.” You looked up at him, leaning into his chest, your lips pressing into a slight pout. “I see how sad you get. It makes me sad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Hamzah’s expression shifted, and he used the hand holding yours to guide it over his waist. Then he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, cradling you against him as if to shield you from the weight of your own worries. “I’m not sad,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I told you before, it’ll happen at the right time.”

You hummed against his chest, the arm that wrapped around you moving up and down as his fingers ghostly ran across your back. You shivered, looking back up at your husband after hiding in his chest for a few minutes. He looked down—smiling at you. The gap between your lips closing, his smile felt against your lips.

He flipped you away from his body, hovering over you; his lips still attached to yours. Your hands slipping under his loose fitted shirt, feeling for his waist to pull him towards you. The way he kisses you alone shows you how much dedication he has for you. He sighs into the kiss, pulling away to take his shirt off. Taking the hint from your lingering hands.

You smile at him, the proud and excited smile on his face made you break into a fit of giggles. His index finger hooks the elastic band of your pajama shorts, pulling them away from you then letting it go so it’d snap back and hit your skin. Leaning down to kiss you again while his finger hooked your shorts off your legs.

A moan slipped out of your throat—sounding like a groan in pain, making him pull away to see what’s wrong. His lips were left plumper, eyes lidded—chest heaving. The sensual air thick around him, your heart skips a beat.

He raised his eyebrow, indicating his curiosity. “You okay?” He asked. Everything about this, his tone, his warmth, the energy around you. It could send you to sleep. Your hand reaches for his hip, moving upwards to caress his waist. “Yeah.” You cup his face, creasing his cheeks by rubbing your thumbs up and down.

Hamzah’s eyes wandered over your features, studying you intently, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Slowly, his face leaned toward your right hand, his cheek pressing softly into your palm. His lips curved into a faint smile, and for a moment, the world outside your shared bubble seemed to disappear.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his tone inviting you to open up but never pushing. His hand slid up to cover yours on his cheek, his fingers warm and grounding. “You don’t have to keep everything inside, you know. Are you not feeling it?”

His words made your chest tighten, not in a painful way, but in that overwhelming way love and vulnerability often do. “I just don’t wanna let you down,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking slightly.

Hamzah shook his head, his smile faint as his hand squeezed yours gently. “You could never let me down,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with yours.

The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through your chest that both comforted and unsettled you. His fingers slid from your hand to your wrist, his touch light but intentional as he guided your hand down to rest against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, grounding yet electrifying.

“Such a pretty girl. Pretty for me.” He murmured, his voice lower now, the edges softened by the intimacy of the moment. His other hand settled at your waist, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that sent a ripple of heat through you.

You blinked, unable to form words, your breath catching as he leaned in closer. The faintest smile tugged at his lips before he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in a gesture so tender it made your pulse race.

“Hamzah…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to draw him in further.

His lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me what you need,” he said softly, his tone a mix of care and something deeper, something that made your cheeks flush.

Your hand slid down his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of the hems of his shirt. That was all he needed to feel.

His lips met yours again, gently, with a hunger that had been building. His hand pressed beside your head to hold himself above you. The kiss was slow at first, unhurried and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment. But as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, his restraint began to waver.

The world around you blurred; the only thing that mattered was the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body, making you forget everything except him. Every issue you’d faced, every tear you've cried, every painful heart tug melted into an intoxicating sensation you couldn’t get enough of.

He hummed against your lips. His hand moved, slowly, from your waist to your knee, bending it upwards—spreading your leg away to settle in between them. A quiet gasp left your lips at his sudden change in manner. His hand slipped down from your knees to your thigh, settling past it on your hip. Squeezing as he pulled away.

His lips began to trail kisses on from your jaw to your neck, the way his breathing brushed against your skin made your heart feel warm, even in these situations where lust would be the only thing you’d want to feel, his love would wash down on you intensely.

Your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Enjoying the feeling of your husband’s sensual touch on you.

[pillowspace]

Hihi!! Could I have some ISAT fic recs? Hurt/comfort is my fav but anything good is good~ Thank you!

I've read 200 ISAT fics, I'm gonna really have to think on which ones to put

Okay, here's your recs from my 200 fic scroll in no particular order <3 There's so many fics I like that I didn't put here, but I had to be picky about it so I didn't just put down everything I had

---

victim of your own creation by dysphoriahighschool

Siffrin has craved blood for as long as they can remember. After so many years of wandering, he's come to Vaugarde in hope of finding answers, just as the King's Curse begins freezing the country in time. He's quickly losing hope, but when they come across a small group determined to save Vaugarde from the King, Siffrin decides to join them. They can't get the answers they want if the country gets frozen in time, after all. They'd never traveled with other people before. Siffrin doesn't expect to grow attached to any of them, but as time goes on, the thought of leaving them hurts more and more. Worse yet, they refuse to even entertain the thought of one of them discovering what he is and what he's done. They just know that if they find out, they'll hate them.

Words: 192,175 | Chapters: 32/?

---

Stagger on Backwards by entryn17

[Ha… Ah?]

The fist opens. Hand turns. Fingers twirl. Again. And Again. You watch with mounting horror as your hand moves on its own, the actions becoming more frantic, more jittery, your chest starts to heave, stomach muscles spasming.

(Loop–)

[Stardust–]

They’re in your body. They’re in your body.

⯍

Or, after experiencing hundreds of grueling loops, Siffrin suddenly wakes up 3 months before they even started, on a bed in an infirmary, bandages wrapped tightly around their newly missing eye. Loop is there with them, too.

Words: 15,213 | Chapters: 3/?

---

UNCANNY ALL ALONG by entryn17

You can… you can still fix this. If you can just muster up enough want, you, both of you can come back from this.

“You can’t come back from anything! Hundreds of days spent in stasis, in your own personal handcrafted hell, an ice cold inferno – you think you’re the same person you were before you laid down on that meadow?”

✧

Or, trauma changes you, often in ways that leave you unrecognizable to even yourself. Now freshly out of the loops and rough around the edges, Siffrin with the help of their friends has to navigate not being the person they remember.

Words: 33,629 | Chapters: 8/?

---

Even in my fantasy, I can't commit to believing by Loafabun

You’re not sure what to think of Loop.

So far, you’ve come to two rather obvious conclusions during your time around them.

1) They’re… a star.

2) You don’t think they like you that much.

Words: 18,275 | Chapters: 3/3

---

Human After All by dunkalfredo

Isabeau, freshly recovered from burnout after rushing through graduate school, stumbles across an ad for a lab position at the research institute where his idol, Dr. Odile Yamamoto, conducts her work. Willing to risk another bout of burnout to potentially work with the Dr. Yamamoto, he applies for the position and gets the job. However, in the process of applying, it quickly becomes clear that something sinister is happening at this institute. He decides to go forward and accept the offer—only to find himself in way over his head in a conspiracy far bigger than himself.

(Or: Modern AU/Sci-fi. Isabeau goes back into the world of science after swearing it off only to end up in the Vaugarde equivalent of Area 51 and finds Siffrin, a shapeshifter of unknown origins, trapped deep underground in a padded cell. Unfortunately, he falls in love. Is their romance doomed? Could Siffrin ever escape? What is Siffrin, anyway? And, importantly—how does Odile factor into all of this?)

Words: 33,697 | Chapters: 3/8

---

The Funeral of Siffrin No Last Name by Kamary (SERIES of fics about ghost Siffrin)

"Ha, like, cut your ashes in equal parts like a pizza?"

(In a timeline that can not and will not take place, Siffrin dies. Unlike other times, he stays dead. Sort of.)

Words: 18,969 | Works: 3

---

Inutile by blueshine

Mirabelle doesn't know what to do. Not with her life, not with her faith, not with her own memory. Why does it feel like she's always forgetting something important?

Mirabelle is the Housemaiden. Isabeau is the Fighter. Odile is the Researcher. Bonnie is the Kid. And that's everyone!

It's raining in Dormont. If clouds cover the stars, are they still there?

Separate Sifloops-

Words: 173,378 | Chapters: 23/34

---

What became of you? by goldviola (Note: this one can get dark. I'm including it because I like it, but only read it if you're in that kind of mood)

After the world returned to normal, and everyone was safe and together once again, Isabeau noticed Siffrin's state. He knows they endured far beyond what he could ever hope to understand.

So a vague, earnest wish, mostly symbolic, was made, folded into a star shaped leaf gifted by a little girl.

I wish I could truly understand Siffrin, and always be there to help and love him.

Isabeau had no way of knowing The Universe would listen.

—

Or: Isabeau gets stuck in his own time loop, and does everything in his power to change it.

Words: 27,746 | Chapters: 1/1

---

Of Stars and Longing by Raaj

Months after saving Vaugarde together, Isabeau spots Siffrin lingering outside the window of his clothing shop. Naturally, he's excited! The Universe granted his wish!

...It still feels a little bad he had to wish for it, though. And something seems off with Siffrin.

Words: 4,979 | Chapters: 2/2

---

The love persists through it all. (The love persists through time.) by Pixxyofice

You are standing in front of a building. Nothing else is around- just a building. The building has a sign above a single door in big letters: TIME LOOP SURVIVORS SUPPORT GROUP. Hanging from that sign is a smaller sign reading Multidimensional!

... What the....

[...]

You let go of the door and look up as it clicks shut behind you.

You see

your family.

---

siffrin meets up with versions of his family who have suffered like he did. is this a blessing or a curse?

Words: 12,015 | Chapters: 1/?

---

Follow the stars back home by Loafabun (note: I haven't actually finished this fic, but I'd like to!)

There's an island north of Vaugarde. You were never able to remember its name. So why now? Why after all this time?

It's so close. You can see it now.

You want to go home.

Inspired by a post on Tumblr by @/auncyen!

Words: 77,781 | Chapters: 16/16

---

Thank you, kind wizard. For making me a frog. by Spinning_Planet_of_Love

With Siffrin's timelooping journey at an end, he walks away with a LOT of new information and trauma to process. Moving forward is a difficult feat, even with his family by his side.

Mirabelle suggests that, perhaps, keeping a journal to organize these thoughts and communicate his feelings to the others may help, so he decides to give it a try.

-

Contains spoilers for ALL content in ISAT, including achievements and quests dialogue, and eventually the epilogue too.

Words: 74,662 | Chapters: 18/?

---

Bleeding in Monochrome by JustSalPals

You're the first one to notice.

(After the events of the game, red stayed in this world of black and white.)

Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1

---

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? by rabbit_soup

Siffrin and his party's journey to Bambouche, and how he needs to learn to deal with what happened to him during the loops. Between nightmares, regaining his humanity, and his new-found PTSD, Siffrin is sure he's being a burden to his family. They, however, think otherwise.

Hopefully they'll make it to Bambouche in one piece.

Or

Siffrin is traumatized and his friends love him a whole lot.

Words: 63,086 | Chapters: 13/?

---

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat

After a hundred miserable loops, Siffrin makes a wish. Isabeau gets caught in the crossfire.

(…yes, it’s another Isa Loops AU. but hear me out! rock might beat scissors, but there’s no stone in the cosmos that can resist the gravitational pull of a star.)

Words: 55,043 | Chapters: 14/14

---

Bloom by Level99Eevee

After breaking free of the loops, Siffrin is more than ready to move on and enjoy life again. They’re with their family—their friends—for another journey, one without the King’s Curse nipping at their heels, and everyone will be together for the foreseeable future. So Siffrin is fine. Great, even! The others don’t need to know that the aftermath of their experience in Dormont still hangs heavy as a noose around their neck.

They just need to get over it.

-

Or: Siffrin has trauma, learning to open up is a process, and the others realize the loops left deeper scars than previously thought.

Words: 41,445 | Chapters: 7/7

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art

They didn't know how they remembered but they both knew that there are legends about these fae doppelgangers, that they wish for nothing more than to steal the heart of the person whose face they stole, for power, for acceptance, to trick more people, to lessen how uncanny they could be.

Either way, it's a death wish to be around someone who shares the same face.

So of course Siffrin and Loop decided to travel together.

(Aka an ISAT changeling AU)

Words: 73,358 | Chapters: 19/21

---

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac

After everything, Loop is struggling to find their place in the world. Siffrin is struggling to adjust to life outside the loops. Isabeau is struggling to balance his love for Siffrin with his need to keep them safe, alongside his own worries about Changing. Politely, things could be better!

But when Loop joins the party on their journey, things tilt even more drastically off course. They'll all need to reconcile their past with their present growing feelings and with the future they're beginning to want. Maybe they'll even do it, too.

It will just blinding suck along the way.

Words: 100,632 | Chapters: 17/?

---

ghostlight by Kittenixie

ghostlight - a single lamp placed on stage to keep the theatre from being in total darkness after everyone’s gone.

After trying and failing to kill Siffrin to take his place, Loop tries to disappear. Siffrin makes them stay. They figure things out together.

Staying with Siffrin's party in Dormont's House of Change, Loop starts down the long, winding path towards recovery, carefully trying to navigate the complicated knot of trauma and grief that the loops have left behind.

Words: 86,075 | Chapters: 24/24

Sequel is back to one | Words: 71,525 | Chapters: 14/?

[enbyfvcker]

~ Comfort ~

Logan didn't need comfort. He never had. He remembers all the time he spent living in forests when he just needed to isolate himself for a while. Anything worked for him, really.

Wolverines can sleep pretty much about everywhere. So, the first couple months after he moved in with Wade, he'd just crash on the couch. Sometimes, Wade would awake in the morning to see Logan sprawled on the floor and snorting after probably falling off the couch in his sleep.

He tried many times to convince Logan to sleep with him on his bed, but he always refused. Wade got that couch on a goddamn dumpster, and it couldn't possibly be comfortable to spend nights on.

So yeah, maybe he wanted to have a big gruff Wolverine laying next to him on his bed, but he also cared about him being comfortable.

He wanted it to be a home for Logan, even if it was a really small crack apartment.

Wade googled about Wolverines and how they nest, and he realized that Logan didn't really have much. He didn't have anything, really, since he dragged him here from a whole other universe.

So he would buy pillows, blankets, and plushies for Logan. And the grumpy idiot would pretend to hate the little hello kittys fluffy miniatures, but one day Wade's heart almost fully melted when he woke up in the middle of the night for a midnight snack, and catched Logan sleeping with all the gifts he gave him all around him, wrapped in a blanket with red and yellow heart patterns.

Sometimes Wade would awake hearing grunts and screams, rushing to the living room to see what was wrong only to find Logan trashing in his sleep, probably deep in a really bad nightmare, his body sweaty and brows furrowed. He looked in pain, and it broke Wade's heart. He imagined the terrors Logan was probably reliving in his mind.

When the sun hits Logan's eyes and he opens them, he feels slightly lighter. As if his body's relaxed for what felt like forever. He looks around and doesn't see the usual living room, and he realizes that he's in a bed. Wade's bed. Wade isn't here, but all the blankets, pillows, and plushies are still all around him.

"What the fuck..."

"Morning, peanut!" Wade announced with an excited tone as he entered the room wearing an "Kiss the cook" apron and toasts on a plate along with a mug.

Logan gives him a confused and annoyed look. "Did you- Did you carry me over here in my sleep?" He asks, incredulous. His bones are fucking made of adamantium. He weighs like 300 pounds. And how the fuck did he not wake up?

"Yes, princess. Bridal style and everything. Only the best for my baby girl."

"Wade-" Logan warns through gritted teeth.

"Alright, look, I just couldn't take you looking so uncomfortable anymore. Besides, you got so peaceful after I put you here. You can't really complain."

"I can, and I will. I told you not to bother. I don't give a fuck about comfort."

"Well, I do. Now get a break on being all grumpy, I made you breakfast." Wade offers Logan the plate with toasts and the mug with black coffee, the way he likes it.

He just grunts and accepts it.

The next nights, the lumpy couch remained empty. Logan would slip into the covers with Wade, the pillows and plushies all around them, and Mary Puppins layed on their feet. Wade was wearing a Spider-Man themed pajamas, and Logan was in his boxers and one of Wade's silly shirts with an unicorn printed on it.

"We look like such a happy family!" Wade says in a dreamy tone in the middle of the night, the room dark as he lays face to face with Logan.

"Shut up. Go to sleep." He groans gruffly, eyes closed.

"Sweet dreams, peanut. I know mine will be. You're always in them. God, I had one these days where you d-"

"Go. To. Sleep."

Some mornings, they would wake up tangled, arms over chests, legs over legs, so close they could feel each other breathing. Sometimes, Logan would wake up first, and when he opens his eyes to see them tangled like that as Wade was in deep slumber, he just smirks and closes them again, drifting back to sleep.

After that, he noticed that the frequency of his nightmares was getting lower. But whenever he'd have them, eventually, Wade would always be right there next to him to comfort him back to sleep.

[chaossturns]

fem!reader wanting to get on top and ride dom!matt

𝜗𝜚 dom!matt, swearing, riding, pet names, p in v, fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 wc: 700 (masterlist + taglist)

matt has been on top for a couple of rounds, manhandling you in different positions but always managing to keep you beneath him. your hands slowly crept on his chest, trying to push him to switch your current position, wanting to get on top yourself and ride him like you meant it— and oh, he hated that.

"haven't i taught you manners? you're one bratty girl." he gritted through his teeth, his right hand tugging on your hair, yanking you back on the soft pillows as he kept pounding steadily into you.

"m'sorry, s-sorry" you say, leaving your mouth as a moan. matt’s tip hitting your cervix with every stroke.

"apologizing comes too late, mama. you failed on acting like a good girl."

matt pulls harder on your hair, forcing your head back on the pillows, as he moved his hips in quicker against you. "why can't you follow the rules hm? do you really want to be punished?

"n-no i don't." your hands finding their way to plant themselves on his chest.

"then just act like a good girl should act. it's not that hard, ma. just ask me for what you want." the tone of matt’s voice was condescending, but it had a teasing edge in it. he liked to watch you struggle to please him, but there was only so much bratting he was going to tolerate.

a whimper left your lips at his word, your jaw going slack at the pleasure you were receiving.

"none of that, baby. use your words. you have such a pretty little mouth for something else other than whining, right?"

matt tugs on your hair again, forcing you to stay still, the rhythm of his strokes reducing, until you did as he asked. "just ask for what you want, princess. i know you're more than capable of that.”

"matt, can i ride, m'please?" you asked, wanting him to start moving inside you again.

as soon as you did, a smirk pulled onto his mouth as he watched you struggle to form words to ask for what you really wanted. but as soon as you did, he gave your ass a smack, releasing his grip on your hair to slide down and grab your hip.

"see? that wasn't so hard, princess. but you get only one warning— if you misbehave or don't listen, there'll be no ride. understand?"

you vigorously nodded your head, eager to get on top and ride matt. "i understand."

"good girl." he rolled over on the bed, sliding out of your leaking pussy. matt pulls you on top of him. he watched you with a smirk, hands going to your hips. "you know what to do, princess."

his aching member was held in your hand as you pumped him before you brought it to your entrance, gently sinking onto him. the sound of hisses can be heard from the both you as he stretched you out, your walls completely engulfing him.

"that's it, mama. keep being a good girl for me. use me to get all that you want." matt grabbed your hips tighter, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over your skin. "go on, princess."

on command you begin to move against his dick, your hands resting on the side of his head. matt groaned against your neck, his hands guiding you, helping you move at a steady rhythm. "m'you feel so good, baby. just like that,"

"m-matt." you moan, increasing the speed at which your hips were rolling into his.

matt smirked, hearing the sounds he was able to get out of you. he reaches one hand up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it, pulling your face closer to his, just an inch away from his lips.

with no hesitation you close the small gap between you two, his tongue immediately clashed against yours, your mouths moved hastily against one another, a breathy groan leaving matt’s mouth.

you pull away, your lips coated in matt’s saliva. his hand still stayed put on your neck. “my pretty, pretty girl.” matt mutters, lust flurrying in his eye.

a/n: fuck me.

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @itsnotmariahh @thenickgirl @thisisntmattsturniolo @sturniyolo69 @luvs4matt @joemamaaa42069 @conspiracy-ash @chrispotatos @watercolorskyy @sturnfannn @emely9274 @strnlslut @jetaimevous @gemzyy @sturn777 @whore4mattsturniolo @trevorsgodmother

​©chaossturns

[tkwrites]

Split & Healed - A snapshot in two parts - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

Part 2

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: talks of Quinns lip injury; hurt/comfort

Summary: Sarah's reaction when Quinn's lip was split.

Word count: 1,800

Anonymous asked: The commentators mentioned Quinn is still struggling to speak with that monster of a split lip. How was Sarah's reaction? Was she there? Does he catch her just staring at him with pity throughout the day because like same 😫

Comments: Nonnie, you sent this in and I had an immediate vision of Sarah putting ointment on Quinns mouth, so I had to write it out. And the actual wounding. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

She was there. It happened, and she was immediately up, pacing back and forth in the family and friends box, clinging to her phone as she waited to hear from him. 

When five minutes went by without any word, she sent him a message, hoping to break the tension as well as get an update: If he broke your nose, I swear to God, I’m going to kill him. 

Quinn snorted before responding, my nose is fine. My lip is another story. 

What happened? 

His stick caught me just right and busted through my lip and some of my gums. Have to get stitches. 

Through? 

A gruesome selfie popped up on her screen and she yelped as her phone flew out of her hand.

“What’s wrong?” Bella asked, running to her side. 

Sarah grimaced, “Quinn just sent me a picture of his lip.”

“Really,” Bella reached to pick it up.

“You don’t want to see, I promise.” 

Bella turned the device over anyway, and turned a delicate shade of green. “Oh, gross.” 

“I did try to warn you,” Sarah said as she took the phone back and clicked out of the image so she could respond.

Oh my god, warn a girl!

Quinn chuckled and was immediately reprimanded by the doctor currently stitching his lip. He went still and tried not to think too much about what was happening on the ice without him. 

Even seeing his picture of the gash – which she was pretty certain she could have seen his teeth through if the blood was mopped up and he moved just right – didn’t prepare her for seeing him that night when he got home after the game.

He slumped into the apartment, holding a towel wrapped ice pack to his mouth. 

“Hey,” she said tentatively, setting her book aside and standing to greet him.  

“Hey,” he echoed morosely. 

“Can I see?” she asked, reaching up to take his wrist. 

Quinn felt a pained expression flash over his face. Not because it was hurting. They’d numbed his whole lip so they could put the stitches in without any pain and so he could keep playing, but it looked awful. Even though he’d washed the blood off in his post game shower, the wound looked almost worse now that some swelling had set in. 

“It’s okay,” she promised, nudging his hand down.

Quinn watched her face as he lowered the ice pack. 

“Oh, Quinn.” 

He’d expected her to wince, and instead she was looking at him with all this deep pity in her eyes. He couldn’t decide which was worse. 

“Is it still numb?” she asked, stopping her hand in midair as it instinctively reached up to touch it. 

He nodded. “Doc said –” he broke off, wincing at his voice. It was like getting out of the dentist in the worst way. Not only was his lip numb, it was swollen, and wouldn’t do anything he wanted it to, making talking normally impossible. 

“Doc said,” she prompted, ignoring the lisp. If she were in his shoes, she’d hate people reacting to it. 

“Said I should ice it,” he said, gesturing with the pack, “help the swelling.” 

“Makes sense.” 

He sighed heavily. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asked as he brought the ice pack up to his mouth again. 

He shrugged, that morose look back on his face..

“What would make you feel better?” she tried again. 

When he shrugged again, she figured she needed to take matters into her own hands. “Do you want to cuddle? I’ll play with your hair.”

Relief crashed through him like a wave. He didn’t have enough energy to make decisions. He was tired - so, so tired - and now he had this stupid busted lip because Hagel couldn’t keep control of his stick. Even though he knew it probably wasn’t intentional, he still wanted to blame him. It was just the perfectly imperfect set of circumstances. Wrong place, wrong time, hit with just the right portion of the stick to do maximum damage. At least they’d gotten the 4 minute power play. 

“Come on,” Sarah said quietly, taking his free hand, “do you want to go to the couch, or bed?” 

“Bed.” 

She led him up the stairs, and after asking if he wanted to change, pulled out pajamas for them. Once they settled into the sheets and she turned on a baking show for them to watch, he rested his ear on her chest, calmed instantly by the steady, familiar beat of her heart. 

Her fingers found their way into his hair, and his eyes fluttered closed.  It was still terrible, this busted lip, but at least she was here, and still loved him enough to hold him and play with his hair. 

Several days later, as they were snuggled up on the lucky couch reading, he snuffed out a frustrated noise as he tried to get more comfortable.

“What’s up?” she asked as her fingers stilled in their journey down his back. 

“Just hurts,” he mumbled, adjusting again so his head was fully in her lap, and he could look up into her face. 

Glancing down at him, Sarah felt an ache swell in her chest. Not only was he in pain, his perfect, lovely mouth was marred with stitches and swelling. He was still handsome, of course — sort of roguish looking now — but it would take some getting used to. She wondered how badly it would scar. 

“And my lips are dry.” 

They looked dry. He’d been licking them, absentmindedly fiddling the stitches with his tongue.

“Here,” she adjusted slightly.

He huffed, not wanting to move. 

“I’m just going to get you something,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, he sat up and she stood. 

She was holding a white tube when she came back a few minutes later. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. 

“Aquaphor?” he read. 

“It’s basically fancy vaseline, but it’s really nice at keeping moisture in. I use it on my lips at night in the winter.”

That was good enough for him. 

“Will you do it?” He felt a little silly requesting it of her, but he knew from experience how much lighter her touch could be compared to his own. And quite frankly, he just wanted her to touch him. She’d been incredibly reluctant to kiss him since it happened, and though he was glad she wasn’t running headlong into anything, he wanted to feel her. He finally had time at home and he couldn’t even kiss her because of this fucking lip. It wasn’t even that they spent all their time kissing. They both had busy lives and things they needed to get done, but the fact that he couldn't do it only made the desire stronger.

He should send Hagel a bunch of hyper-realistic fake donuts, or some shit like that — just so he could experience the disappointment of having something delicious dangled in front of him, only to find he couldn’t actually eat it. 

Feeling her touch him wouldn’t be the same, but at least it was something. 

“Sure.” Sarah took the tube back. As she settled next to him, the little lights from the Christmas tree reflected in her eyes making them look starry and magical.

The lid clicked open with a quiet snick. He watched her squeeze some of the thick ointment onto the pad of her index finger. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” 

When she looked back into his face, she found Quinn watching her intensely. That intensity never failed to awake something within her. She pushed aside the desire that growled to life in her belly and heat that sparked between her legs.

He nodded.

“Ready?” she asked, as she reached out to rest her pinky on the side of his chin for grounding. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to do the bottom or the top first?” 

Eyes darting to hers, he asked, “what?” 

She gave him a mischievous little smile, but her tone was serious. “Should I start with the top lip to get it over with, or ease into it?” 

Disappointment and relief swept through him in equal measure. “Get it over with.” It was always best to get the hard part done first. 

Even though she tried to keep her touch as gentle as possible when she spread the salve onto his lip, he still flinched. 

“It’s okay,” he assured, reaching up to keep her from pulling her hand away, “just a reflex.” 

He intentionally bit back a wince as he lisped over the words, worried she would think it was a response to something she was doing. Trying to figure out how to talk when half of his lip was unnaturally stiff was no cake walk. He hated the way it changed his speech. 

She started again, and he held himself still. 

Watching her do this, let alone feeling it, soothed him and also awoke something primal in Quinn. Letting his eyes wander down to her mouth, he couldn’t stop thinking about the pleasured noises he could pull from it when he went down on her. Another thing he likely wouldn’t be able to do until the damn thing had healed more. 

He wished his mind would stop conjuring up images of everything he wanted to do, but couldn’t because of this stupid injury. 

“Better?” she asked, pulling her hand away. 

He nodded. “Still want to kiss you,” he mumbled. 

“I know, Quinny. I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, either.” 

A frustrated noise huffed out of his nose. “You’re not helping.” 

She smiled, “maybe we can try…” Leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his bottom lip, doing her best to avoid causing any pain. 

He still let out a hissed kind of whine.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling back abruptly. 

“It’s just tender,” he sighed, a dark edge of defeat in his voice. “This fucking sucks. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“I know the feeling,” she said, eyes straying down to the dark stitches again. 

Quinn took a measure of comfort in the fact that she, at least, was feeling the same longing he was as he lay down again, settling his head back into her lap. 

Her fingers ran into his hair again and he sighed. At least there was this. 

Part 2

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[majinael]

DEFENDING HIS EGO

"But seriously, that Kaiser guy is way too arrogant. I can't stand him. I don’t get how anyone can be friends with a guy like that."

The words cut through the chatter in the cafeteria as I sat with a few of my teammates and their friends. My ears perked up, and I couldn’t help but glance at the speaker like he’d just declared the sky green.

"If I were a player like him, I'd probably act the same way, to be honest," I replied, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

I hadn’t planned to engage, but the comment was too ridiculous to ignore. My response made him pause, glancing around at his friends for backup before shooting back with a sneer.

"Oho, does someone have a little crush? Should I remind you he doesn’t even know you? And if he did, he’d probably treat you like his little lapdog… what’s his name again? Ness, right?"

My jaw clenched. I’d spoken to Kaiser before—briefly, as a novice trainer—but it wasn’t the nightmare everyone made it out to be. Few had the chance to interact with Bastard München’s ace, so how would they know? What really got under my skin wasn’t the trash talk—it was the insecurity practically dripping from his words.

"Alright, on that note, I’ll leave you to your mocking and shit-talking better players. Maybe that’s the secret formula for you to finally score something."

I stood up and left quietly, knowing any further discussion was a waste of breath. With guys like that, the conversation would only circle back to their egos.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, I found myself in the nursery, discussing recovery with a nurse about a player I was supposed to train. He’d injured himself during a match, and we were listing through what to avoid. As I exited, someone familiar slipped into the room behind me. I didn’t get a chance to see who it was before the door closed.

Turning back down the corridor, I stopped short. Standing in front of me, as unmistakable as ever, was Bastard München’s Number 10.

Kaiser.

It was rare to see him wandering these parts of the facility. I could only assume whoever had entered the nursery was connected to him somehow.

"Unusual of you to wander around these boring corridors, Kaiser," I said casually, my gaze flicking to his face. His cold expression softened slightly, though his cocky smile didn’t fade.

"Sometimes they’re not so boring," he replied with a shrug.

"Oh? How so?" I asked, looking around theatrically, searching for whatever "interesting" thing he was referring to. When I looked back at him, I caught him pointing at me, and my brows furrowed in confusion.

Before I could say anything, he reached out, placing a hand on my head and ruffling my hair.

"I can’t lie—defending me like that earlier? Didn’t expect it. I surely didn’t know you cared so much," he said softly, though the teasing undertone was unmistakable.

My face betrayed me instantly. My ears burned, and my cheeks flushed hot.

He overheard that? Does he think I’m some kind of fangirl now?

"I-I... If it were any other good player, I’d have said the same!" I stammered, trying to regain some composure. But I didn’t move away as his hand slid down to my chin, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch only deepened my embarrassment, my cheeks now practically glowing.

"Denial... how cute," he said, his voice low and almost amused. "But I never said I hated having a little fangirl."

There it was.

With a smirk, he let go and walked past me, heading into the nursery, likely to check on whoever had summoned him here in the first place. I was left standing alone in the empty corridor, completely flustered, already overthinking our next interaction.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HIIIII ! This is my first fanfiction on this blog, very short and simple but I think a very good training to not get Kaiser OOC, I'll try my best to keep it up, aswell as I'll try being as gender neutral as possible in the future (if possible) but for this one I really wanted to use the term either fangirl/fanboy, the term sounds so ridiculous and it definitely is something Kaiser would say imo. I hope you can still dive into this short fan fiction by replacing the word for whatever works for you. Byyye <3