#I love the girls so much I need them I wasn’t them I breathe them I’m buying the mha manga for them them them them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bimbosicko · 24 hours ago

Text

GET HIM BACK !

when sam accidentally sees dean in bed with two girls, you decide to give him the idea of getting revenge and get him back ۶ৎ

pairings ! sam winchester x fem! reader

warnings ! english isn't my first language, creampie! wrap it before you tap it guys, season three sam winchester, sam is an awkward dork, reader is a BIGGER awkward dork, it starts as a joke and ends with sex... lmao. this is fluff!! with sex!! porn with 2k of plot 😭, let's have a shot whenever i mention cheeks or the word fuck and let's get BUSTED.

author's note ! he's so cute i love him sm (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) also the final part i wrote it sobbing so im sorry is not that good 😭 remember!! my asks are open and everything you need to know ab myself is in the pinned post in my blog, ily<33

word count ! 5,1 k of words wtf is wrong with me!!

"I am traumatized."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Sam, you're not traumatized..." you said, your voice tinged with amusement, the edges of a smile playing on your lips.

"I've seen Kama Sutra positions that were easier than whatever was going on in that room," he added, your laughter echoed in the room, and for a moment, you felt the familiar ease you always had with Sam.

"God, you're hilarious," you said, shaking your head. "Don't ever change."

"I think that experience changed me," he muttered, sounding truly displeased.

"Come on," you shrugged. "He deserves to have a little fun every now and then. I mean... he doesn't have much time left." The lightness in your voice faltered as the words left your mouth, and you regretted them the moment you saw the way Sam's face darkened.

"Hey," he said sharply, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Don't say that. We'll find a way."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your expression must have betrayed you. "If you say so, Sammy..." The nickname slipped off your tongue as naturally as breathing, like it belonged there. At this point, the bond between you two felt as unshakable as the tides meeting the shore. He noticed, of course, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your chest.

Sam rolled his eyes then, trying to shake off the weight of the moment. "You’re lucky you were asleep during all that. If not, I would’ve sent you to the room," he grumbled with a mock huff.

Your nose wrinkled at his suggestion, heat rising to your cheeks. "Well..." you trailed off, looking anywhere but at him.

His brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by well?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You covered your face with both hands, already regretting opening your mouth. "I didn’t want to see that!" you squeaked, your voice muffled by your palms. Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of his gaze on you.

Sam leaned closer, the proximity making your pulse race. "Wait, wait, wait..." he said, his tone lighter now but with a hint of teasing curiosity. "Are you saying you pretended to be asleep?"

Your eyes widened as you peeked through your fingers, only to find his smirk growing. "Sam!" you whined, your embarrassment mounting.

He tilted his head, grinning now, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "So, you did. Wow, I thought you were fearless, but apparently, even you have limits."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. But the way he laughed—a deep, genuine laugh—made your heart skip. You tried not to smile, but the corners of your lips betrayed you.

For a moment, the air between you two shifted. The teasing banter faded into a comfortable silence, but the unspoken tension lingered, thick and electric. His gaze softened, lingering on you just a second too long, and you felt the world narrow to just the two of you. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

"You're something else, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the fairytale-like spell that seemed to envelop the two of you. Sam was so close that you could feel his warmth, and staying indifferent to it felt like an almost impossible task.

"So... when is Dean coming back from the hospital?" you whispered, locking your gaze on Sam’s eyes.

"In an hour, I think." His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that echoed in the silence that followed.

You nodded but said nothing more. A heavy silence settled between you, not exactly uncomfortable, but not easy to ignore either. The tension was palpable, as if every breath you took fed a fire that neither of you dared acknowledge.

"You should get back at Dean," you blurted out suddenly, trying to dispel the pressure that seemed to hang in the air. You pretended to be distracted, playing with your nails, but you were fully aware of Sam's every move from the corner of your eye.

"What?" His eyebrow arched, but there was something more behind his reaction, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"You know... like, uh, Dean catching you doing that. It’d be funny," you murmured, feeling your shoulders tense as the words left your mouth.

"Do you think so?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was something in it—something that made your heartbeat feel stronger, louder. "I wouldn’t want to involve some random girl in something like that..."

"Oh, right, totally. It could traumatize her," you replied with obvious irony, trying to mask your own discomfort. Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "We could… do it. You and I… you know?"

The pause that followed was so thick that, for a second, you thought you’d said something completely out of line. Sam made a sound, like he had just let all the air leave his lungs at once.

"Us?" His voice sounded incredulous, but there was something deeper in it, something mingling with the surprise.

You coughed lightly, trying not to appear as affected as you felt. "Yeah, sure. We could pretend to do it, just to mess with him," you added quickly, your voice breaking slightly at the end.

"Oh," Sam said, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell what that "oh" meant. Was he surprised? Disappointed? But then he spoke again, and there was something different in his tone, something you hadn’t heard before. "Oh, right, I mean…"

He trailed off, and you glanced up, only to find him looking at you with a mix of uncertainty and something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second—so quick it was almost imperceptible—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

"Do you want to? Really?" he asked finally, his voice lower, almost a whisper.

"Pretend," you corrected, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "Just to mess with Dean, nothing more."

"Right," he murmured, though there was something in his tone that didn’t quite match the lightness of the situation. A small smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours, studying you like he was searching for something more in your proposal.

The silence returned, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged, as if the unsaid words between you filled the space with more intensity than any conversation ever could.

"It could be fun," he said finally, his voice rough, and there was something in his expression that made you wonder if he was really talking about the prank—or about something else entirely.

You laughed, though the sound came out more nervous than you intended. You were trying to hide how tense you were, but the knot in your stomach was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah, sure…” you muttered more to yourself, your voice barely audible. Sam’s gaze lingered on you, scanning your figure from head to toe, and that simple gesture made your legs feel like jelly.

“It has to look realistic,” he said suddenly, his tone slightly firmer, though his eyes held a mix of shyness and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

“Oh God—right,” you responded almost without thinking, your words rushed as you fought to keep your composure. Your hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, and though your cheeks were burning, you began unbuttoning it slowly. “Uh… like this?”

Sam averted his eyes for a moment, clearing his throat softly, as if that could somehow break the growing tension in the air. But when he looked back at you, his face was as red as yours.

“Uh—yeah, I guess… looks realistic to me,” he said finally, his voice lower, almost as if he were talking to himself. His gaze lingered briefly on your collarbones, dipping for a split second before meeting your eyes again.

Your voice wavered, though you tried to inject it with a touch of false confidence to mask the storm swirling inside you. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one without a shirt,” you said, feigning a casual tone as you rolled your eyes.

For a moment, you thought Sam hadn’t heard you, but then you saw him swallow hard, clearly affected. “Right—you’re right,” he muttered, his voice a little deeper than usual as he reached for the hem of his shirt.

Time seemed to slow as he pulled it off, revealing the tanned skin of his torso. You didn’t want to look, but it was impossible not to. The definition of his shoulders, the movement of his muscles… it all felt like too much to handle.

Damn.

He held the shirt in his hands for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it, before letting it fall to the floor. “Is this more fair?” he asked, with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as though he too was trying to ease the tension between you.

“I guess…” you murmured, though your voice barely came out. Your eyes met his, and the silence that followed was deafening. You could hear the sound of his breathing, slow and heavy, mixing with yours, and the space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” he said finally, his tone attempting to be light, but the nervousness was unmistakable.

“You said it,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to shield yourself from him or from the way he made you feel.

He took a step toward you, not too close, but enough that you could feel his presence even stronger. “We can stop if you want,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“No,” you said quickly—too quickly. You wanted to take it back, to say something else, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you tried to smile, though it barely counted as one. “I want to keep going.” Your tone sounded far more serious for something that was supposed to be just a joke. Sam seemed to notice, his eyes glinting under the motel’s dim yellow light.

The space between you remained charged, as if both of you were waiting for something neither dared to say out loud.

“God, this feels like the start of a bad porn,” you said abruptly, making Sam laugh.

He nodded, biting his lip as if to hold back a smile. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, moving cautiously, as though afraid you’d bolt at any moment. The way his figure loomed over you was almost intimidating, but in the part of you that wasn’t scared, it made you feel warm.

“Let’s get to the bed, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and syrupy.

“Bed?” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly.

“It has to be realistic.”

Realistic, of course. How could you forget?

“Yeah sure, let's go to bed.”

Sam lifted you with ease, as if you weighed far less than you actually did, yet he dropped you onto the bed with just a bit more force than necessary, making you let out a startled yelp.

“Ouch! That hurt,” you said through laughter, trying to sound offended, though the tone of your voice betrayed you.

Sam leaned over you, his arms on either side of your face, creating a bubble that seemed to isolate you both from the rest of the world.

“Sorry—” he murmured, though there was a smile tugging at his lips that he couldn’t quite hide.

You shook your head quickly, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s not funny! Don’t laugh,” you scolded him, but the sparkle in your eyes and the smile curling your lips completely undermined your words. You could feel the warmth of his arms so close to you, and the air between you seemed heavier, thicker.

Your laughter began to fade, giving way to a silence that wasn’t awkward but felt almost… comforting. You sighed, trying to catch your breath, but that was the moment you realized just how close his face was to yours. So close that you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your skin.

“Sammy…” you murmured, his name escaping your lips almost like a whisper. Your voice sounded breathless, as though the air itself was refusing to fill your lungs.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of an intensity that rooted you in place beneath his gaze. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and rough, sending your heartbeat into an uncontrollable rhythm.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, your hand moved hesitantly, brushing against the warm skin of his neck before resting at the back, applying just enough pressure to pull him even closer. Your breaths were shallow, your lips slightly parted. With a small nod, you finally whispered:

“It’s okay… I want to kiss you too.”

The words were like a spark igniting a flame, and before you could say anything else, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss wasn’t gentle or hesitant; it was fierce, as though all the tension that had built up between you had finally found its release.

The force of his kiss made your head sink into the pillow, and your hands instinctively moved to grip his shoulders, searching for something solid to hold onto as the intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm you. You could feel the weight of him, his warmth, and suddenly it was like the entire world had faded away, leaving only Sam, the pounding of your heart, and the sensation of his lips against yours.

The kiss deepened, his hands framing your face as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t keep you close. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and though you couldn’t see your own face, you were certain your cheeks were as red as his.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces still so close that there was barely any space between you. Sam didn’t speak at first, just gazed at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his eyes searching yours as if he needed confirmation that this was real.

You were the first to break the silence, though your voice came out shaky. “That… that was…”

“Incredible,” he finished for you, a small smile playing on his lips—both confident and a little uncertain at the same time. “But, uh… I don’t think Dean’s gonna buy this as just a joke.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, your laughter filling the room as Sam watched you with that soft expression that made your chest tighten all over again.

“Maybe it wasn’t just to mess with Dean,” you murmured, your voice quiet but firm, your eyes never leaving his.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a small smirk forming as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Maybe not,” he replied, his voice low and warm, before leaning in again, this time kissing you with a tenderness that completely unraveled you.

Your body moved before your mind, climbing into Sam's lap like your life depended on it.

He hummed softly, “You're sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes rolled as if the question had been out of place, but your expression broke with a tender smile.

“I am, Sammy, more than anything.”

He nodded softly, pulling you closer to his body and leaving wet kisses on your neck, giving a small bite that made you let out a muffled moan.

Their bodies were so close that there wasn’t even room for oxygen to pass between them. The way Sam moved was rough, deliberate, like a man with a singular goal in mind, his movements precise and calculated.

“Let me help you with this, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved toward your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that felt both electrifying and agonizingly slow.

His touch was so careful as he unbuttoned your jeans, like he was handling something sacred. It was a contradiction to the intensity in his gaze—a gaze so sharp it pinned you in place, leaving you no room to breathe, no room to think.

You knew those eyes. They were the same eyes he used when he was tracking a monster, honing in on his prey with unwavering focus. Without realizing it, you had become his target—a prey about to be devoured.

As he slid your jeans down, his movements were slow, deliberate, almost torturous. His lips followed the path his hands carved, planting soft, burning kisses along every inch of newly exposed skin. Each kiss was a promise, a tease, leading down to what felt like the edge of the world.

Your breathing was uneven, shallow, almost panicked, but not from fear—no, this was something else entirely. Your chest rose and fell erratically, anticipation building with every inch his lips traveled.

“I really want to take my time with you,” he said, his words breaking the silence. Each syllable was punctuated by a kiss against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But—” he kissed you again, his lips lingering. “I don’t know if I can hold back.” Another kiss, softer, yet it somehow left you trembling.

Oh, fuck.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips, betraying just how undone you were. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you tilted your head back, giving him more access to the curve of your waist, the line of your hip, anywhere he wanted to be.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, though your voice came out in a shaky whisper. “You can… God, you can do whatever you want to me.”

He froze for a second, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Are you sure?” His voice was quieter now, like he needed to hear you say it, really say it.

You let out an exasperated breath, barely managing to lift your head to glare at him, though the fire in your gaze was softened by the flush on your cheeks. “If you keep asking stupid questions, I swear I’ll punch you. Right in that ridiculously handsome face of yours.”

A laugh bubbled out of him, deep and genuine, the sound vibrating against your skin. His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your stomach. “Got it,” he said simply, his voice tinged with amusement.

And then his lips returned to your skin, softer now but no less deliberate. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns that made your entire body hum. The tension in the room was thick, almost unbearable, as if the air itself had been charged with electricity.

You felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, your heart pounding, your breaths coming in short gasps, but the way Sam looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered, like he couldn’t believe you were real—made you feel safe, even as you were unraveling beneath him.

The space between you seemed to shrink even further, his weight pressing into you just enough to ground you in the moment. And though the anticipation was overwhelming, there was a strange calm in knowing that whatever came next, it would be with him.

His long fingers moved the fabric of your panties to the side;

“Look at her…” he murmured, totally infatuated with the way your wet and gaping pussy called for him.

“Did you just—?” you started protesting. But you were quickly silenced when Sam inserted a finger inside you.

“God, she's sucking me so good” you whined. “She's a really good girl, just like you. Think I can put one more?” he asked you, without breaking eye contact.

“I dunno– yes?”

“Mhm.” he mumbled, “That's not an answer you know?” His voice was laced with a playful tone that made you a little angry, how was it possible that you were with your legs open and so needy and he was taking all the time in the world, it drove you crazy in the best way possible.

“Come on, Sammy.” you whined softly, starting to get desperate.

“I need to get you nice and wet baby, I'm sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

“No, I'm not.” he nodded, agreeing with you. The way he's spreading your wet pussy with his fingers, moving them back and forth, opening you up for him, is making you go crazy. If this was the foreplay, you couldn't even imagine the real play.

The weight on your chest never went away, and it only deepened when you felt Sam's hot tongue licking a line up and down your core.

“Oh– fuckin’” you moaned, covering your mouth with your knuckles, biting down on them.

Sam hummed, pleased with your reactions. His tongue went deeper, exploring your soft walls, your taste was making him see stars. He could live his whole life with his tongue deep inside you and die happily ever after. You were so sweet, fuck demon blood and fuck alcohol. Your fluids were his new drug.

You pushed your hips deeper into his mouth, moaning like you were on heat.

“Fuck, just like that Sammy– There! Fucking there!” His other hand gripped your hips and held you taut to his face as he ate you brutally, his lips working like a man who has been starving for months and finally tasted something worth dying for. As he extended his mouth wide to trace his tongue from your hole up to the soft bundle of pleasure, he dragged your clit into his mouth, scraped it with his teeth, and then released it with a light slapping sound.

“God, Sammy, please. I'm so close.” You left out a cry, arching your back into the pleasure as he continued his current rhythm, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from your hot, flushed body. Your hands moved to his hair, fisting it and raising his body until you were face to face.

Your fingers traveled to his pants, where you began to lower his zipper and slowly his underwear.

“I wanna ride you, can I?” you asked, sincerely. Waiting for an honest response as if you had asked something totally normal and not the most perverted words Sam ever heard you utter.

He groaned, as an answer.

“Of course you can, God.”

With a shaky hand, you line him at your entrance and reach down to gently grab him. He puts his hand on the small of your back and rubs calming circles there to reassure you.

“You got this. Slow.” You nodded, following his instructions, sinking an inch or two onto him while your brow furrows in concentration.

As you take more of Sam, his breathing turns ragged, hitching in his throat like he’s barely holding himself together. You push yourself further, testing your limits, and in one reckless move, you take the rest of him all at once. His reaction is immediate—a sharp, breathy squeak escapes his lips, completely unbidden. His fingers dig into your hips, grounding himself, his nails almost biting into your skin as if trying to steady the rush of sensation overtaking him.

“I said slow…” His voice is strained, low, barely a whisper, but the way he looks at you with that indignant, wide-eyed expression—one you know all too well—only makes you want to push him further, to see just how much more he can take.

“‘ed help,” you whimper in a low, broken voice, the sound more desperate than you intended.

His brows furrow as he stares at you, his lips parting slightly. “What?” he breathes, his voice teetering on the edge of control.

“I need help, Sammy.”

Those words seem to shatter something in him. The way he looks at you, it’s almost reverent, like you’re something divine in his lap. His hands tighten on your thighs, his grip so firm you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow—not that you mind. It feels like a mark, a claim, like he’s trying to ground himself in the reality of you.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and starts moving you. At first, his motions are precise, almost mechanical, lifting you up and down in a steady rhythm. But the control doesn’t last long. Within moments, his restraint begins to crack, his hands gripping harder, his breaths coming faster. His movements become rougher, more desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.

Before you can even process what’s happening, his arms wrap around your back in one swift, possessive motion, and you find yourself beneath him. His weight presses into you, the warmth of his body enveloping yours. His hips move without rhythm now, erratic, frantic, driven entirely by need. Every thrust feels like it’s meant to claim, to mark, to leave no part of you untouched.

The sounds spilling from him are pure desperation—low, guttural moans mixed with soft curses under his breath. You can feel how much he’s holding back, how he’s trying so hard not to lose himself entirely, but his resolve is slipping with every passing second, mentalizing all the laws of the penal code that he remembered to get a grip of himself.

“Sammy—” your voice trembles, breaking as the tension in your body coils tighter.

“I’m about to—”

He nods quickly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Me too,” he manages to say between ragged gasps, his words broken, his voice a strained whisper. “Where do you…?”

Each syllable is punctuated by a thrust, his control unraveling with every word.

“Inside,” you moan, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin meeting skin. “I want it inside.”

The words hit him like a freight train. His movements falter for a fraction of a second, his entire body tensing as if the weight of your request has shattered the last bit of restraint he was clinging to.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, his voice a low growl, his control slipping completely.

His hips snap forward one last time, and he’s gone. He buries himself as deeply as he can, his entire body trembling as he lets go, his moans mixing with yours.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the air between you thick with the remnants of everything that just happened. Sam’s forehead stays pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling slightly as he holds you close, as if letting go would mean losing the connection you just shared. He doesn’t say anything right away—neither of you do. There’s no need for words in this moment, no need to break the fragile, intimate silence that has settled over you both.

But when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost hesitant. “Are you okay?”

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his back. “Yeah,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Sam exhales, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief, and leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips.

The sweet moment is abruptly shattered by the unmistakable jingle of keys at the door. Your eyes widen in panic, and your hand instinctively flies up to cover your mouth, muffling a surprised gasp.

“Sammy—” you squeaked, your voice trembling with worry as the reality of the situation crashed down on you.

Sam’s response was to nod—calmly, almost too calmly. His body froze like a statue, as if you both were suddenly prey caught in the crosshairs of a wild, feral T-Rex. His eyes darted to the door, his lips pressed into a tight line, and you swore he even stopped breathing.

The doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate click, and the sound felt louder than it had any right to be in the otherwise silent room.

The door swung open.

“Hey, guess what? Your theory was actually—”

Dean stopped mid-sentence, his words halting like the Impala's doors slamming shut. He stood there in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him like his brain was buffering the information. His eyes flicked from Sam to you and then back again, taking in your flushed faces, disheveled hair, and the unmistakable tension lingering in the air.

“Oh, god dammit,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. Then, louder: “Fucking finally.”

You froze, your face heating to what had to be an inhuman degree, while Sam just groaned loudly, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Dean,” Sam started, his voice strained and muffled against your skin, “this… isn’t—”

Dean raised a hand to cut him off, a mix of exasperation and amusement written all over his face. “Don’t. Don’t even try, Sammy. I don’t need the details. I don’t want the details. Hell, I’m already regretting walking in here.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to salvage whatever scraps of dignity you had left, but all that came out was a small, embarrassed squeak.

Dean pointed at both of you, squinting like he was trying to physically burn the image of you two into his memory out of sheer spite. “You know what? I should’ve known. I’ve been calling this for years. YEARS, Sam.”

Sam finally lifted his head, glaring at his brother. “You haven’t been calling anything.”

Dean smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Oh, really? So me betting Jo twenty bucks that you two would eventually ‘work out all that unresolved tension’ doesn’t count?”

“Dean!” Sam barked, his ears turning bright red as he scrambled to sit up straighter.

“Twenty bucks,” Dean repeated with a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. “And let me tell you, that girl is gonna be real smug about being right.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “Oh my God, just kill me now.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Nah, don’t worry. You two lovebirds keep doing… whatever this is. I’ll just… go burn my eyes out now.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Oh, and Sam?”

“What?” Sam snapped, clearly at the end of his patience.

Dean winked. “You owe me clean sheets.”

The door closed behind him, and you stared at it in silence, your brain desperately trying to reboot. After a moment, you turned to Sam, your voice flat. “Clean sheets?”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even through your embarrassment. “Nope. Welcome to the rest of your life, Sammy.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut

112 notes · View notes

saioratral · 1 day ago

Text

PARING: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

PROMPT: love can change SYNOPSIS: can you ever imagine a man like him.. in love?

WARNING: none NOTE: i saw sajal ali's photoshoot and i just had to write. literally got out of my writing block all because of a photo?? and who else to think of but sukuna cause hear me out.. also recommend hearing janam janam cause i was listening to that while writing

in sukuna’s eyes, you were no one special. just another girl- another offering from a village too afraid to stand up to him, hoping that you might spare them from his wrath. it was a simple transaction: you, a fragile human, given to the king of curses as an escape. so why is he getting so flustered seeing you in your wedding dress?

the blood red fabric adorned with golden embroidery was made by the finest silk to elevate your look as if you were the entire world’s beauty. he could hardly tear his eyes away from the sight of you, sitting quietly next to him. he had expected fear but not this… this feeling that pulled at something deep inside of him

your face, however, was veiled, a delicate red dupatta covering your features, hiding your eyes from his. still, even with the fabric between you, he couldn’t look away. the gold embroidery caught sukuna's attention with its soft, delicate beauty. it wasn’t just the dress, though. it was everything about you. the way you carried yourself, the way you sat with a quiet grace beside him, imagine a calm cat and a dangerous dog beside each other

you were so much more than he had ever expected, and yet, why? why did his chest tighten when he caught the smile of your lips, the way you carefully signed your name on the marriage papers, your handwriting neat and delicate, as though each letter was a piece of art?

sukuna frowned, pushing the strange flutter in his chest away

what was happening to him?

you weren’t special, not in the way he needed. you were just a pawn. someone to carry out the ritual yet, when your shaky hands passed him the pen, your trembling touch brushing against his cold fingers, something in him snapped. he could feel the warmth of your skin against his- a jolt coursing through his body. a soft laugh followed from you, sweet and melodic. it was the first time he’d heard you and it sounded like music

“are you nervous?” sukuna’s curious voice made you turn your head a little to hear him better

you whispered back to him, making his heart skip a beat. “just a little”

saying your simple vows, he slowly lifts the red cloth, his fingers hesitated as he gently brushes the fabric away from your face. the moment it settled on your head, his breath caught in his chest

there you were. how could someone like you even exist before his very own eyes? to call you his, to claim you as his own, was as if he had conquered every battle, won every war, and still stood victorious, not because of his power, but because of you

the simple act of you feeding him sweets, turned into something far more meaningful. his eyes watched the delicate henna patterns that adorned your hands, reaching all the way up to your elbows. the designs were a testament to the time, the effort, and the love poured into them. the realization hit him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t resist. perhaps he had been wrong about you. perhaps you were more than just a village offering, more than just another woman. maybe…

maybe he had found something he never knew he needed

as the years passed, sukuna remained beside you. the king of curses was no longer a title he wore. the man who had struck fear into the hearts of villages, who had ruled with an iron fist, slowly faded. he had cast aside the darkness that once defined him. no longer did he crave the chaos of battle, the thrill of bloodshed. instead, he found peace in the quiet moments spent with you

the human aging was catching up, leaving their marks on both of you, but your beauty had only deepened with time. he noticed the silver threads that had begun to grow through your hair, the soft lines that had appeared around your eyes, and yet, to him, you were as breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on you

“you still look at me like that,” your voice filled with warmth. “like i’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen”

sukuna chuckled softly

“i’ll keep looking at you like this for as long as i breathe”

@saioratral .ᐟ do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission

130 notes · View notes

rafescorpsebride · 1 day ago

Text

You’re everything

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Eddie sees you struggling. And as your boyfriend, he knows exactly how to help. Uploaded from my old account.

CW: Mild self harm, talks of depression, anger outburst, reader has borderline personality disorder and dialogue is based on my own experience.

Eddie pushed open the apartment door, with his hip, a few grocery bags lined down his arm because he refused to make two trips. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back!” He shut the door with his foot, did a quick unfocused glance around the living room.

“Fuck, the store was packed! I think you would have stayed in the car, baby.” He set down the bags and started putting away the cold items. Eddie yawned afterwards, closing the refrigerator and stretched. His black, stolen back sweatshirt rising above his stomach.

It dawned on him that you haven’t responded at all. “Baby?” He called again. No answer. He frowned and approached the bedroom door and he gasped when he saw the scene.

The bed was torn apart. Blankets thrown off and the pillows dented. Eddie went to take a step before he looked on the ground. Stim toys were all over the floor. Stuffed animals and even clothes. A few shirts were ripped. He didn’t see you. “Princess, what’s going-“

A hole was in the wall next to the closet. A small one but it went deep in the plaster. Eddie moved quickly. Surveying the damage, he saw a bloody imprint. Knuckles. Eddie sighed. You were having an episode. He should have known. You didn’t answer his texts. You hated phone calls. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Eddie on a number of times had to sit by your side during dark hours.

But he loved you. You were beautiful. His everything. It wasn’t one sided. If anything, you have too much to him. You were always supporting him. Even when he was unbearable. You stood by him. He would do whatever you needed. He needed you. He wanted you. Eddie knew immediately where you were then.

He gently opened the closet door and he saw you. You were wearing a large t shirt, it went past your thighs and loose plaid pajama pants.

Over ear headphones word, your phone face down on the floor and you were stimming. Rocking back and forth. You were panting, your face flushed and he could see your eyes squeezed shut. Eddie saw your right hand. Your knuckles were bloody and bruised.

He didn’t want to startle you so Eddie opened the door further, enough for you to hear it over music.

Eddie’s heart ached when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blood shot. Your lips bleeding from what he knew, you bit them or picking at them. Your nails had blood underneath them from biting the nail. You were a wreck. But you were his special girl.

“Hey…” He said, swallowing. “Baby, I-what happened?”

You tried to stand but ended up sprawled on the ground. He went to help you but you jerked away, pulling yourself up.

“I’m so fucking mad right now.” You were almost yelling. But you sounded out of breath. “I-I took my meds but I’m still like this. My heart hurts, I just feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Everything is too loud!” You weren’t crying but you were growing hysterical. You started pacing.

“Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I get so upset over the smallest things?” Eddie was standing close but he didn’t reach yet. You were tugging at your shirt. He knew you were getting hot.

“I can’t deal with this. I can’t feel this way! Im so sick of feeling like I’m useless because I can’t even talk on the phone to my boyfriend because I hate how it makes me feel! You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“Sweetheart, will you just come here for a second?” Eddie tried to prompt.

“No!” You stopped moving and placed your hands on your chest. “Eddie. I don’t want you to see me like this. Again. Maybe you should leave. I don’t want to keep freaking you out.”

Eddie moved then. And he gently grasped your elbows and looked down. Eye contact was difficult for you and he never wanted to force it. But he titled your chin, happy if you just looked at his forehead. “Princess. I’m not leaving you. I would never.” He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against yours. “I’m just happy you didn’t break your hand.” He pulled away, glad you weren’t moving away. “You’re burning up. Let’s get to the couch, it’s too warm in here.”

Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you walk around the mess and he sat you down on the couch. “I’ll be right back, babe.” You grabbed his hand. “I promise.” He smiled at you. You slowly let go.

He tried not to show his panic as he looked for the first aid kit. Eddie came back to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “Let me see that hand.” He asked, pulling it towards him. It was shaking. He was careful, dabbing it with saline and you winced. “I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie went through the motions, remembering how to wrap an injured hand from his own share of punching walls.

After the bandage was around your hand, he pressed a kiss on top. He maneuvered his way up and sat beside you. Eddie held your leg that was bouncing. “Babe…I know for a while things have been really hard for you. And seeing all that today, I see you’re in a lot of pain. And I just want to help you. I love you so much. You know that right?” You covered your face with your hands.

“Eddie, you shouldn’t. I feel like I don’t have enough good days. I’m so tired of always telling you how bad my day was, or that I want to have a meltdown about fucking textures or sounds. I just wish I could be normal for you.” Eddie shook his head, taking your hands down.

“Hey. Hey. I would never trade you for anything. I would never want anyone other than you. The only thing I wish I could change, is how you feel about yourself. Baby, you are so much more than what you struggle with. You’re kind, funny, like so funny I almost snort and I can’t even breathe. You understand me, you are so caring and you let me be annoying when I smoke too much weed. I could go on for days.” You lifted your head. And looked at him. And held eye contact.

“You’re more than bad days, baby. I love you so much. And I know you were listening to our song, right? The one I told you to play when things get bad?” You nodded. Smiling a little. Eddie feigned shock.

“Is that-is that a smile? That’s my girl.” It widened and he grinned, cupping your cheeks.

“Come on. Sing one line with me. And then, I’m gonna go pick up the bedroom. I’m going to make you something to eat and then we’re going to watch your favorite movies.”

“Do I have to sing?” You complained.

“Sorry, baby. Those are the rules.” Eddie winked, still holding tight to your face.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, cuz I don’t think that they’d understand.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. Gently because of the picked apart flesh.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed tightly. Eddie followed suit and hugged you around the waist.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

Eddie breathed you in. It wouldn’t fix what you felt. But you wouldn’t have to battle anything alone.

@hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @lesservillain @xxladymjxx @marchsfreakshow @taintandviolent @rafesheaven @songbirdmunson @loserboysandlithium @stillwjk-channie-lixie @oceanblvd111

#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

108 notes · View notes

gojozballs · 1 day ago

Text

Gojo x Reader "Doll"

Warning: [This story contains themes of yandere obsession, dark romance, violence, and disturbing imagery, including murder and psychological manipulation]

Materialist

A doll, captivating Satoru who never desired a woman, where Satoru's relentless love for Y/N leads him to transform into a lifeless doll, forever binding them in an unbreakable, chilling connection.

Author's POV

Gojo Satoru was in his final year at Jujutsu High a senior, not your average one at that. Being from a noble family gave him an air of sophistication, but he wasn’t the type to flaunt it obnoxiously. Nope, Satoru was far from the stereotypical rich-kid playboy. Instead, he was the kind of guy who commanded attention without trying—sharp wit, a lazy grin, and a charm that made people flock to him like moths to a flame. Not that he cared much for it. His circle was tight, consisting of just three friends: Suguru, Shoko, and Nanami.

“Where are we off to after school today?” Satoru asked lazily, lounging in his chair and spinning a pen between his fingers as the rest of the class emptied out.

“As much as I’d like to go home,” Nanami sighed, pushing his glasses up, “I know you’ll drag me somewhere anyway, so just tell us.”

“I heard there’s a new antique shop in town!” Shoko piped up, a spark of excitement lighting her otherwise chill demeanor. She had a thing for unique trinkets and old collectibles. “We should check it out.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Antiques, huh? Planning to buy more weird knick-knacks?”

“They’re art, Suguru. You wouldn’t understand.” Shoko waved him off dismissively, but the group collectively agreed.

As they walked toward the school gates, the afternoon sun casting long shadows, a voice suddenly called out.

“Gojo-san! Please wait!”

The group stopped, all heads turning in unison. Two girls approached, their pace hurried, one of them clutching the straps of her bag nervously.

“Oh boy,” Suguru muttered under his breath, already anticipating the scene.

The girl stopped in front of Satoru, cheeks flushed as she fidgeted with the hem of her uniform. The other girl stood a few steps behind, looking equally embarrassed for her friend.

“If you’re about to confess to me,” Satoru began, his piercing blue eyes glinting as he leaned slightly closer, “you’ve got to be at least my type, you know?”

The poor girl froze, eyes wide, her courage crumbling under his casually cruel words. Before she could even stammer a response, Satoru sighed dramatically, running a hand through his snow-white hair. “Let’s go, guys. Let’s save her the embarrassment.”

He turned on his heel, strolling away like he hadn’t just shattered someone’s heart. The others exchanged amused glances before following.

“You’re going to be single forever if you keep this up, Satoru,” Suguru teased, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Single? Please.” Satoru snorted, grinning. “No one’s even come close to passing my standards. Why settle for ordinary when I’m extraordinary?”

Nanami rolled his eyes. “Your standards are the reason you’ll die alone.”

They soon arrived at the antique shop, a quaint little place tucked into the corner of a bustling street. The exterior was charming, with weathered wooden signs and potted plants that added a touch of whimsy. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, the air inside cool and tinged with the faint scent of aged wood and lavender.

“Alright, let’s split up,” Shoko announced, already wandering toward a shelf filled with vintage trinkets. “Suguru, don’t get lost looking for something ridiculous.”

Suguru ignored her, heading straight for a display of delicate figurines. “Ridiculous? I’m getting something cute for my girlfriend. Long distance doesn’t mean I can slack off, unlike some people.” He shot a look at Satoru.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Why would I need to buy gifts for someone when I already am the gift?”

Nanami let out a long suffering sigh, already regretting tagging along as he browsed through a collection of old books. “Shoko, if you’re going to spend all your money, don’t complain about being broke later.”

“Who said anything about complaining?” she shot back. “Retail therapy is good for the soul. You should try it sometime.”

Meanwhile, Satoru meandered through the shop, hands stuffed into his pockets, stopping occasionally to inspect random objects. A silver hand mirror caught his eye, and he picked it up, tilting it to admire his reflection.

“Damn, I look good even in antiques,” he muttered to himself, grinning.

Suguru walked by, overhearing. “Careful, Satoru. Your ego’s taking up more space than this shop.”

Satoru shrugged, unbothered. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Suguru.”

As Satoru admired his reflection in the antique mirror, something far more captivating caught his eye a small doll perched delicately on the top shelf. His hand froze mid-hair-fluff, his gaze locking onto it. The doll was exquisite, with an almost haunting beauty. Its face was painted with soft, lifelike details, lips slightly parted in an almost secretive smile, and its glassy eyes seemed to glimmer even under the dim shop lighting.

“Now that’s my type,” he muttered, reaching up to carefully take it off the shelf.

Holding it in his hands, Satoru’s breath hitched. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, studying every detail of the doll like it was a priceless artifact. His thumb traced over its porcelain cheek, and for a brief moment, it felt almost... alive.

“If someone in my school looked like this, I’d be engaged by now,” he sighed dramatically, tilting his head as if trying to imagine the doll as a real person.

Despite his confident exterior and endless admirers, Satoru still carried a strange emptiness deep down. Sure, he’d been with a few models and actresses here and there flings, nothing serious but none of it ever stuck. None of it ever felt real. And now here he was, standing in an antique shop, inexplicably drawn to a doll like it held the answers to all the things he couldn’t put into words.

“Oi, Satoru, we’re done! Where the hell are you?” Suguru’s voice echoed through the shop, snapping him out of his trance.

Satoru glanced at the door, then back at the doll in his hands. He hesitated for a moment before smirking. “You’re coming home with me, doll.”

He didn’t want his friends to see him buying something like this he could already hear the teasing. So, with the smoothness only Gojo Satoru could pull off, he waved them off.

“Go ahead, guys. I, uh, forgot to pay for something.”

Nanami gave him a suspicious side-eye. “You’re buying something? What, did you find a vintage mirror so you can admire yourself even more?”

“Probably got some old 90’s porn videos,” Suguru chimed in with a smirk, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Shoko snorted, already heading out the door. “Knowing Satoru, it’s probably something weird.”

“Oh, whatever,” Satoru quipped, waving them off with a grin. “Why would I waste my money on that when I could just, you know, fuck the actress?”

Suguru groaned, shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“Charmed, I’m sure!” Satoru called after them, watching as they disappeared down the street. Only when the coast was clear did he turn back to the shopkeeper with his usual lazy grin. “So, how much for this beauty?”

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow, glancing at the doll. “Ah, that one? Quite rare. Been sitting there for decades, though no one’s ever taken much interest in it.”

“Well, guess it’s been waiting for someone with taste.” Satoru’s grin widened as he pulled out his wallet.

On the way home, his friends bantered like usual, their teasing relentless.

“Bet he bought something embarrassing,” Nanami said flatly, walking ahead with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Probably a VHS tape of some old drama he’s too embarrassed to admit he likes,” Shoko chimed in, lighting a cigarette.

“Pfft, knowing Satoru, it’s something stupidly expensive and completely unnecessary,” Suguru added.

Satoru walked slightly behind them, tuning them out with a smirk plastered on his face. He casually carried the bag in one hand, but his thoughts were elsewhere specifically, on the doll carefully wrapped inside. He couldn’t explain it, but something about it felt... different. Special, even.

His friends were too busy laughing to notice the faint, almost imperceptible blush dusting Satoru’s cheeks as he thought about it again. Deep down, he was already looking forward to getting home where he could finally take the doll out and admire it properly without anyone around to interrupt.

Movement

Arriving at his family estate, Satoru was greeted by the usual chorus of polite bows and greetings from the household staff. Servants lined the hallways, offering smiles and asking if he needed anything. He didn’t bother to glance at them, his mind preoccupied.

“Not now,” he muttered, brushing past a butler who had stepped forward. His long legs carried him up the grand staircase two steps at a time, the opulent chandeliers and marble flooring a blur as he made a beeline for his room.

The moment he stepped inside, he kicked the door shut behind him, dropping his bag and pulling out the doll. “There you go, pretty,” he murmured, handling it with surprising care.

He placed it delicately on his study table, angling it so its face caught the soft afternoon light streaming through the window. The doll’s lifelike eyes seemed to sparkle, almost as though they were watching him.

“I’ll get back to you in a bit,” he said with a lazy grin, pointing at the doll as if it could hear him. “Don’t move.”

With that, Satoru began peeling off his uniform jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the bed. His tie followed, then his shirt, buttons undone one by one with a casual, practiced ease. Standing bare-chested in the middle of the room, he ran a hand through his snow-white hair, the strands sticking out messily.

“Man, what a day,” he muttered to himself, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head. The muscles in his back flexed, catching the golden light from the window.

He reached for the waistband of his pants, but what he didn’t know was that a certain someone or something was watching him intently.

The doll’s porcelain cheeks, faintly painted with a rosy hue, seemed to darken ever so slightly. Its glassy eyes, which moments ago had been fixed in an unchanging gaze, now almost appeared wide with shock, as though it had just witnessed something scandalous.

Oblivious to this, Satoru strolled into the adjoining bathroom, humming a tune under his breath. The sound of running water soon filled the air as he turned on the shower.

Back in the bedroom, the doll remained on the study table, but something about it seemed... different. Its head, ever so slightly tilted, almost looked as though it was following the direction Satoru had gone.

The once-static doll now radiated a subtle energy an aura that was faint but growing stronger.

When Satoru returned, hair damp and a towel slung loosely around his hips, he stopped in his tracks.

For a brief moment, he thought he saw something a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. His sharp blue eyes darted to the study table, where the doll sat exactly where he had left it.

“Huh,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Must be the heat getting to me.”

But even as he turned away to grab some clothes, the strange sensation of being watched lingered. And if he’d looked a little closer, he might’ve noticed the faintest shift in the doll’s expression a subtle smile tugging at its porcelain lips.

1 AM – Satoru’s Room

The grand estate was silent, bathed in moonlight, as Satoru slept soundly in the massive bed tucked in the center of his room. He was sprawled out, one arm flung over his head, his face soft and peaceful. His snowy white hair glimmered faintly in the dim light, and his breathing was slow and even, lost in whatever dreamland he’d wandered into.

But in the far corner of the room, something strange began to stir.

The doll, once motionless on his study table, twitched. Its glassy eyes seemed to blink, and the porcelain of its limbs began to shift, softening, becoming something more alive. Its delicate frame stretched, the cracks of transformation accompanied by the faint sound of fabric ripping. The once-pristine dress adorning the doll tore apart, revealing smooth, flawless skin as it grew into its full human form.

She stood there now, completely bare, bathed in the silver glow of the moon. Stretching her arms above her head, she let out a soft sigh. “It’s been so long...” she murmured, her voice as smooth and captivating as velvet.

Her gaze landed on Satoru, sprawled out in his bed, and she couldn’t help the small smile curling on her lips. “You called me beautiful,” she whispered, taking a slow step toward him, her bare feet soundless against the plush carpet. “Yet you… you’re the one who’s truly breathtaking.”

She reached the side of the bed, kneeling down beside him, her curious fingers gently brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm under her touch, and she marveled at the softness of it. Her hand trembled as she tucked a stray strand of white hair behind his ear, unable to believe that someone like him so pure, so perfect had been the one to bring her back to life.

Satoru stirred.

The light sleeper that he was, his eyes fluttered open, groggy but aware. His blue gaze locked on hers, but his half-asleep brain didn’t quite register what he was seeing.

“Oh, now I’m dreaming about you,” he mumbled, his voice husky with sleep. His lips curled into a lazy grin as he reached out and pulled her onto the bed, tucking her under the covers with him.

Her breath hitched as she found herself inches from his face, his warm arm draped over her waist. His sleepy eyes roamed her face, and his grin widened. “You’re really beautiful,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across her cheek as though to confirm she was real.

She froze under his touch, her heart racing. “Thank you, Satoru,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Though I’m no match for your eyes.”

He chuckled, the sound low and melodic. “This… this is exactly how I imagined it would be. A gorgeous girl sneaking into my bed. Honestly, I don’t even care if I’m dreaming. I wish you were real.”

His words made her chest tighten. She couldn’t tell if it was joy or sadness that overwhelmed her, but she couldn’t look away from him.

“Me too…” she whispered, her hand resting gently on his chest.

He yawned, pulling her closer into his embrace. His body was warm and inviting, and she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her palm. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling. For the first time in so long, she felt loved, cherished, and protected.

But she knew it couldn’t last.

Satoru’s breathing evened out again, signaling that he’d fallen back into a deep sleep. Carefully, she wriggled free from his arms, though every fiber of her being screamed to stay. She stood at the edge of his bed, watching him for a moment, committing the sight of him to memory.

With a heavy heart, she tiptoed back to the study table. Her ripped clothes still hung loosely off her body, but she adjusted them the best she could before settling back into her original position.

As she closed her eyes, returning to her doll-like state, a single tear slipped down her porcelain cheek. She already missed the warmth of his touch, the kindness in his gaze. And in the silence of the room, she made a silent vow.

One day, she wouldn’t have to leave. One day, she’d be able to stay by his side for real.

Still a dream?

For the past week, Satoru’s dreams had been consumed by the mysterious doll he’d purchased. Each night, he found himself in his room the two of them would laugh, cuddle, and share secrets. The intimacy they shared felt so real that it left him dazed every morning. No matter how much he flirted with reality, nothing compared to the feeling he had with her.

That evening, he returned to his room, anticipation buzzing in his chest as he picked up the doll. “Come visit me again in my dreams, yeah?” he murmured, gently caressing the doll’s cheek as if it could hear him. His voice was soft, almost affectionate, as his thumb brushed over its smooth surface.

With a content sigh, Satoru nestled into bed, clutching the doll close as sleep claimed him.

As always, the dream began with her.

Y/N stood in the center of his dreamscape, her radiant beauty glowing under a soft, ethereal light. She greeted him with a smile that could stop time, her laugh bubbling like music in his ears. They talked, they teased, they held each other close like lovers who had known each other for lifetimes.

But tonight was different. The doll had grown bolder, a spark of determination glinting in her eyes.

In reality, the doll’s porcelain form stirred once again, her limbs softening, her body growing as she transformed into her human form. The lamp beside Satoru’s bed flickered faintly before turning on, bathing the room in a warm glow.

Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes softening as she admired his peaceful face. “I want to see them,” she whispered, leaning closer. “Your beautiful eyes...”

Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch him, brushing against his cheek ever so lightly. The touch was enough to stir Satoru from his slumber. His eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto her. But instead of panicking, he smiled sleepily.

“Oh, you’re here,” he mumbled, his voice husky from sleep. “You really do come to me every night, huh?”

Y/N blinked in surprise but quickly smiled back, amused by his assumption. He still thinks this is a dream.

“Hi, Satoru!” she said cheerfully, her tone playful yet innocent.

Satoru rubbed his eyes, still half-asleep, but something felt… different. His gaze finally focused on her fully, and he froze. The faint glow from the lamp illuminated every inch of her every inch. His face immediately turned crimson as he realized she was completely naked, sitting beside him without a hint of shame.

“H-Hey! You—you’re naked!” he stammered, averting his gaze and tugging the blanket up to cover her.

Y/N tilted her head, clearly upset by his reaction. She reached out, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at her. “Why won’t you look at me, Toru?” she pouted, her lips forming the softest, most irresistible expression.

Satoru swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. “I—uh—” He was at a loss for words, his usual charm nowhere to be found. Instead, he felt something stirring inside him something both external and internal that made his body heat up like a furnace.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finally whispered, his voice almost trembling. “You won’t be mad if I… do this, right?”

Y/N blinked, confused but curious. “Do what?”

Without waiting for a proper response, Satoru leaned in and pressed a gentle, hesitant kiss to her lips. It was soft, almost shy a stark contrast to his usual confidence.

Her eyes widened at the gesture, but then she laughed, the sound rich and full of delight. “Oh, Satoru...” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Before he could pull away, she leaned in and captured his lips again, this time with more passion. It was intoxicating the way she kissed him, the way she smiled against his mouth. He felt like he was drowning in her, and for once, he didn’t mind.

The night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter, stolen kisses, and whispered words. Satoru held her close, his fingers tracing the curve of her back, his lips brushing against her temple. He didn’t want the moment to end.

“I wish you were real,” he murmured into her hair, his voice heavy with longing.

Y/N froze for a moment, her heart aching at his words. She tightened her hold on him, burying her face in his chest.

“I’m real enough for tonight, Toru,” she whispered softly, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

As the first rays of dawn began to seep into the room, Y/N stirred slightly, her head still nestled against Satoru’s chest. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep beside him, but the warmth of his embrace and the feeling of his heartbeat lulling her to rest were too much to resist.

Satoru’s arms tightened around her instinctively in his sleep, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

But as the sun’s light fully illuminated the room, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt she had forgotten to return to her doll form.

She froze, panic bubbling in her chest as she turned to look at Satoru’s peaceful face. He stirred slightly, his lashes fluttering as he began to wake.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he mumbled, his voice low and groggy.

Her heart raced. “Satoru...”

Then, his eyes blinked open fully, locking onto hers. A slow smile spread across his face, his sleep-addled mind still convinced he was dreaming.

“You’re still here,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “Guess this dream just gets better and better.”

Y/N could only laugh nervously, her mind scrambling for what to do next. He still thinks this is a dream... but for how much longer?

Chaotic Morning

The peaceful quiet of Satoru’s morning was shattered in the most chaotic way possible. The door to his room slammed open with a deafening bang, startling both him and Y/N.

“Satoru, get the fuck up!”

Satoru bolted upright, groaning in irritation. “The fuck, Suguru? Seriously? What are you even doing here this early?” His voice was groggy, annoyance dripping from every word.

Suguru strode into the room like he owned the place, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve been skipping school for a week, dumbass! I’m here to drag you out before Nanami and Shoko stage an intervention.”

As Satoru rambled on about how “school could wait” and how annoying Suguru was for showing up unannounced, Suguru froze mid-rant. His eyes widened as they zeroed in on something or rather, someone beside Satoru.

“Uh... Satoru?” Suguru’s voice cracked slightly, disbelief coloring his tone.

Satoru furrowed his brows at his best friend’s expression, waving a hand in front of Suguru’s face. “What’s up with you? Why do you look like you’ve seen a—”

And then he followed Suguru’s gaze.

His words died in his throat as his eyes landed on Y/N, who sat up beside him on the bed, the blanket pooled around her waist. Her wide, innocent eyes flicked between the two of them, her cheeks tinged pink. She looked like she’d just been caught doing something forbidden, and for a second, Satoru’s brain malfunctioned.

Suguru, on the other hand, had no such delay in his reaction.

“S-Satoru,” he stammered, pointing an accusatory finger at Y/N. “Is that your fucking doll?”

“What?” Satoru mumbled, his brain struggling to process the situation.

Suguru’s voice rose an octave. “Is that your fucking doll—as in the one you’ve been dreaming about?”

Satoru blinked, his head whipping back toward Y/N. It took him half a second to notice the familiar features the same face, the same eyes, the same everything.

His heart slammed against his ribcage as realization dawned on him. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Satoru,” she said sheepishly, offering him a small wave.

“Oh god, she’s real?!”

“Wait—am I still dreaming?” Satoru clutched his head in disbelief, his hair sticking out in all directions as he panicked.

“No, you’re not dreaming, you idiot!” Suguru shouted, clearly losing it. “What the fuck is going on here?”

The room erupted into chaos. Satoru was freaking out, Suguru was borderline hysterical, and Y/N looked like she wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. The shouting continued, overlapping and incomprehensible, until Y/N finally snapped.

“I—” she began, but before she could explain herself, a flicker of fear crossed her face. She panicked and quickly transformed back into her doll form, collapsing motionless on the bed.

The sudden silence was deafening.

Suguru’s jaw dropped as he pointed at the now-lifeless doll. “Holy shit she just turned back into the doll! She was real! I saw her! She was breathing! She spoke! What the fuck, Satoru?”

But Satoru wasn’t listening anymore. His trembling hands reached out to pick up the doll, his heart thundering in his chest. All the panic and chaos in the room melted away as he cradled her in his hands, his wide, blue eyes fixed on her face.

“She’s real,” he whispered, his voice trembling with awe. “She’s... really real.”

Suguru threw his hands in the air. “That’s all you have to say? ‘She’s real?’ This is insane!”

Satoru ignored him entirely, his thumb gently brushing against the doll’s cheek as if trying to coax her back to life. “Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with something Suguru had never heard before pure, unfiltered affection.

Suguru groaned, pacing the room like a madman. “This explains everything why you’ve been skipping school, why you’re acting like a lovesick puppy, why you keep carrying that damn doll everywhere like it’s some kind of treasure!”

Satoru didn’t even bother denying it. He looked up at Suguru with a soft, almost dazed smile. “Because she is a treasure, Suguru.”

Suguru froze mid-step, staring at his best friend as if he’d grown a second head. “You’re hopeless,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Satoru smirked, his confidence finally returning. “Hopelessly in love, maybe.”

Suguru gagged. “Gross. Don’t say shit like that to me.”

Satoru leaned back against the headboard, cradling the doll close to his chest. “You wouldn’t understand, Suguru. You’ve never met someone like her.”

“You’re talking about a doll, Satoru.”

“She’s not just a doll,” Satoru shot back, his voice unusually firm. “She’s... her. And I’m going to figure out everything how, why, what she is. But for now...” He glanced down at her, his gaze softening. “For now, I just want to keep her close.”

Suguru groaned again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. But you’re going to school tomorrow whether you like it or not. I’m not covering for your lovesick ass anymore.”

As Suguru stormed out of the room, grumbling under his breath, Satoru let out a soft laugh. He turned his attention back to Y/N, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile.

“Guess it’s just you and me again, huh?” he murmured.

And though Y/N remained in her doll form, Satoru could’ve sworn he felt her warmth in his hands, her presence as real and tangible as his own heartbeat.

A week later

The days blurred together for Satoru. Ever since Y/N transformed back into her doll form, he’d been a man possessed. Sleepless nights bled into groggy mornings as he sat by her, pleading and coaxing her to come back. He’d pace his room with her in his hands, whispering to her like a madman.

“Y/N, come on. You’re real I know you are. Just show yourself, okay? Please?”

But no matter how many times he begged, she remained silent and motionless. The frustration ate at him, gnawing away at his resolve.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” he’d whisper, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. “You’re not just a doll… I’ve seen you. I’ve felt you.”

Suguru, watching from the sidelines, grew increasingly worried. He believed Satoru when he claimed the doll had moved for god's sake he witnessed it but was it all worth it if his best friend was losing his sanity

“You’re going to kill yourself at this rate,” Suguru said one evening, standing in Satoru’s doorway. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of concern. “You’re not eating. You’re not sleeping. You’re barely holding on, man.”

Satoru didn’t look up. He sat slumped in his chair, the doll cradled in his lap like a fragile treasure. “You didn’t see her the way I did, Suguru,” he murmured. “She was alive. She was real.”

“I believe you,” Suguru replied, stepping closer. “But you’re still human, Satoru. You can’t keep going like this.”

Satoru let out a dry laugh, his head tilting back against the chair. “She’s the only thing that feels real right now.”

Suguru clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. “She won’t come back if you destroy yourself"

Suguru eventually stormed out, muttering about how Satoru had lost his mind. And maybe he had. The sleepless nights and lack of food caught up to him quickly. His usually radiant complexion was pale, his energy nonexistent. Yet, even as his body begged for rest, he refused to stop.

He made sure the pile of women’s clothes he’d bought for her was neatly folded beside the doll. “Just in case,” he’d murmured, forcing a weak smile.

But the breaking point came that night. After a short, lukewarm shower, Satoru stumbled out of the bathroom, towel barely clinging to his hips. The world spun violently around him, and before he could catch himself, he collapsed onto the cold bedroom floor with a dull thud.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, as if triggered by the sheer panic coursing through her, Y/N moved.

The once-motionless doll began to glow faintly, her figure expanding and shifting until she was standing there, flesh and blood. Her wide eyes immediately locked onto Satoru’s unconscious form.

“Satoru!” she cried, dropping to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled as she shook his shoulders, trying to rouse him. “Wake up! Please, wake up!”

He didn’t respond. His body was burning, his breath shallow. Her heart clenched painfully she had no idea what to do.

Panic set in, and with no better option, she stumbled to the door. Gripping the handle, she yanked it open and shouted desperately into the hallway. “Help! Please, someone help!”

Her voice echoed through the quiet mansion, startling the household staff. Heads turned, and footsteps rushed toward her.

But the sight that greeted them made them freeze in their tracks. Standing in Satoru’s doorway was a breathtakingly beautiful woman completely naked.

One of the maids blinked rapidly, clearly trying to make sense of the situation. “Uh… ma’am?”

“Please!” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling with urgency. She pointed toward Satoru’s unmoving form on the floor. “He’s burning up! He collapsed, and I… I don’t know what to do!”

The urgency in her voice snapped them out of their stupor. Several staff members hurried past her to tend to Satoru, while others exchanged knowing looks.

A butler leaned toward one of the maids, muttering under his breath, “Guess the young master’s been… busy.”

The maid snickered, barely able to contain her amusement. “Too much fun, clearly.”

Y/N stared at them, confused by their words but too focused on Satoru to care. Her attention was drawn back to him as the staff carefully lifted him off the floor and placed him onto the bed.

One of the maids approached her with a kind smile, holding out a plush bathrobe. “Here, miss. You should cover up.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, glancing down at herself. The realization of her nakedness hit her like a ton of bricks. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she quickly slipped into the robe. “Th-thank you.”

The maid smiled knowingly. “Of course. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Just give him some time to rest.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed with concern. “Will he really be okay?”

The maid nodded reassuringly. “Yes, but you should rest too, miss. You wouldn’t want to catch whatever he has.”

The butler chimed in with a teasing grin. “Though, from the looks of it, you might’ve already shared… plenty.”

Y/N tilted her head, confused by his words. Before she could ask, the maid gently guided her toward the guest room. “Come along now. Let’s get you settled.”

As she followed, Y/N glanced back at Satoru’s room, her heart heavy with worry. She couldn’t shake the memory of his smile, his voice calling her name, the way he’d looked at her with such warmth and affection.

She clutched the robe tightly around herself, a determined glint in her eyes. Whatever it took, she wouldn’t let him suffer alone.

Engaged

Y/N sat in the stillness of the room, her gaze fixed on the darkness that stretched endlessly beyond the window. It was 2 a.m. now, the quiet hour where the world seemed to hold its breath. She could feel the shift in her body, the subtle pull that urged her to return to her doll form, but she hesitated. Disappointing Satoru again wasn’t something she wanted to see in those endless blue eyes.

A small, wistful smile played on her lips as her thoughts drifted to that night the night he had thought it was all just a dream.

The memory unfurled like a ribbon, tugging her heart.

“If you were real, we’d be engaged by now,” he had murmured, his voice soft and teasing, but with a glimmer of something deeper behind it.

Y/N had laughed, her voice light as she tilted her head, her doll-like features glowing under the dim light. “Can’t you just be engaged to me while I’m a doll?” she teased, her tone playful yet carrying a hint of challenge.

He’d paused, blinking at her with that boyish grin he always wore when something ridiculous crossed his mind. “Well, that would be wei—” He stopped mid-sentence, his smirk shifting into something almost wicked. “You know what? Hell yeah.”

The next day, she hadn’t expected him to take it seriously. But Satoru Gojo never did anything halfway.

She could still remember the glint in his eyes as he slipped into the room, practically buzzing with excitement. “Tadaaa!” he’d declared, holding up a tiny velvet box with all the theatrics of a magician pulling off his greatest trick.

Inside was a ring, custom-made to fit her doll form perfectly. A delicate thing, impossibly detailed, glimmering like frost in the sunlight.

“Perfect,” he had murmured as he slid it onto her finger, his voice low and reverent, as though he were worshipping a piece of art and in that moment, that’s exactly how he saw her. His perfect creation, his one-of-a-kind treasure.

The memory sent a shiver down her spine. It was absurd, yet so achingly sweet that her heart ached from the intensity of it.

Back in the present, her fingers absentmindedly traced the curve of the ring in her hand a tangible reminder of his devotion, no matter how twisted it might be.

“Perfect,” she echoed in a whisper, her voice barely audible in the silence, her heart caught in the delicate web of his obsession and her own uncertain feelings.

Tonight, she wouldn’t turn back into a doll not yet. Not when the thought of seeing disappointment flash in his brilliant eyes weighed heavier than her own exhaustion.

After all, she was his, wasn’t she? His perfect doll, his perfect fiancée whether she wanted to be or not.

Her eyes flickered toward the door, toward the hallway that led to Satoru’s room. A part of her itched to go, to check if he was okay to see if he’d gotten better after what she’d done to him. But the guilt clawed at her like a shadow with teeth, whispering cruel reminders that it was her fault he’d ended up this way.

The memory of his reaction still made her stomach twist. The way his brilliant, confident eyes had widened in terror. The way his voice, usually so teasing and playful, had cracked when he’d seen her—really seen her.

It had frightened her.

Not because she feared him, but because in that moment, he hadn’t looked like the invincible Satoru Gojo. He had looked small. Vulnerable. And she had been the reason why.

Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched them tighter, nails biting into her palms. Was this what she truly was? A fleeting illusion, a doll that should’ve stayed lifeless? The thought pierced through her, and for a moment, she felt as though she might shatter like porcelain under the weight of it all.

And yet, she couldn’t ignore the pull in her chest the ache to be near him.

“Maybe he’s asleep,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling, though she wasn’t sure if she was convincing herself or hoping. If he was asleep, she wouldn’t have to see the fear in his eyes again. She could just... look. Just make sure he was breathing, that he wasn’t still pale and trembling like he’d been earlier.

But what if he wasn’t? What if he was awake, and those eyes, which held entire galaxies, were looking at her again not with fear, but with something else? Something raw and unspoken.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought, heat prickling her skin. She knew that look. Satoru was the kind of man who loved fiercely, possessively. He didn’t just want pieces of her; he wanted all of her—every thought, every breath, every heartbeat. Even now, she could hear his voice from days ago, playful yet laced with an intensity that left her breathless.

“If you’re real,” he’d whispered, leaning impossibly close, “then you’re mine.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the memory. She hated how much those words stirred something inside her, how much she wanted to belong to him, even when everything about their situation felt so utterly wrong.

Taking a shaky breath, she stood, her legs unsteady as she crossed the room. Her hand hovered over the door handle, hesitation gripping her like a vice.

What if seeing him again broke her? What if he still looked at her like she was some kind of nightmare?

But worse what if he didn’t? What if he looked at her the way he always did, with that infuriating, breathtaking confidence that made her knees weak?

Swallowing hard, she pushed the door open just a crack, the faint light from the hallway spilling into the darkness beyond. She bit her lip as she peeked inside, her gaze immediately drawn to the man lying in bed.

Satoru was still, his hair a mess of white against the dark sheets. Even like this, he was impossibly beautiful, his long lashes resting against pale skin, his lips parted slightly in sleep.

Her heart twisted painfully, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “I’m sorry…”

It wasn’t enough not for everything she’d done. But maybe, just maybe, if she stayed by his side tonight, it could be a start.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d find a way to belong to him in the way he so desperately wanted.

Fun

Y/N stood frozen, her gaze fixed on him. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow over Satoru's pale, vulnerable form. Soon, she’d turn back into her doll form—she always did—but before she could react, a strong hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward.

She let out a startled yelp, stumbling ungracefully onto his lap.

“Doll.”

His voice was hoarse, heavy with exhaustion but laced with an undeniable hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. She barely had time to process the searing warmth of his hand encircling hers, the way his grip was firm, unrelenting, as though afraid she might vanish into thin air.

For a moment, silence enveloped them, the only sound the quiet rhythm of their breaths. His blue eyes locked onto hers, piercing and overwhelming. Time seemed to stop as the world narrowed to just the two of them, their proximity leaving her dizzy and flustered.

Satoru’s hands found her waist, his long fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes along her sides, grazing her with a featherlight touch that sent electricity racing through her veins. Her cheeks flushed, her breath hitching as she tried to look away, but his gaze held her captive.

“You feel so real,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and something darker, something possessive. His head tilted, his snowy lashes fluttering as his eyes fluttered closed for a brief second.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. She dropped her gaze, guilt twisting her insides.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open, sharp and commanding. “If you’re so sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with quiet intensity, “don’t you dare turn back into your doll form.”

Her breath hitched at the weight of his words, the authority in them sending a jolt through her. “A-alright,” she stammered softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… there are limits to my capabilities.”

His sharp gaze softened, and that boyish smirk the one that always managed to disarm her curved his lips. His eyes dropped, and he noticed the tiny ring she was clutching in her hand.

“Is this what I think it is?” he chuckled, his voice dipping into a warm, amused tone. “It wouldn’t be nice for you to ghost your fiancé, you know.”

Y/N’s blush deepened, the memory of his playful proposal rushing back, but before she could say anything, his fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her chin upward. His thumb traced her bottom lip, the intimate gesture leaving her utterly breathless.

Despite his fragile state, every trace of emptiness in Satoru’s expression had vanished. His eyes sparkled with something close to reverence as he studied her. The doll-like perfection he adored so much was mesmerizing, but it was more than that. It was the way she understood him, the way she made him feel human even when he felt like the strongest yet loneliest man in the world.

His lips curved into a wicked grin, one that made her pulse race. “Does my doll want to feel good again?” he teased, his voice dropping into a husky whisper as his hand drifted lower, brushing the tie of her robe.

Her breath caught, the memory of that one night flashing vividly in her mind. Heat flooded her cheeks as she tried to look away, but Satoru’s smirk only widened.

“Mhm…” His eyes glinted mischievously, leaning closer until his lips ghosted over her ear. “Shall we have fun?”

Y/N’s heart pounded as his words wrapped around her like a spell, her body betraying her hesitation as a shiver of anticipation ran through her.

Earlier that night, Satoru paced around his dimly lit bedroom like a caged predator, his mind spiraling into madness. The doll his doll—refused to show herself. She was out there somewhere, hiding from him, denying him the sweet satisfaction of seeing her delicate face, hearing her soft voice. How cruel of her to stay away. How utterly selfish.

His icy blue eyes glinted dangerously under the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains. Why won’t you come to me? he thought bitterly, raking his fingers through his silvery hair in frustration. His heart pounded with a mix of longing and frustration, each beat fueling his desperation. She was his; she just didn’t seem to realize it yet. But tonight, he’d make her understand.

Satoru’s lips curled into a twisted smile as a dangerous idea crossed his mind. If she wouldn’t come willingly, then he’d leave her no choice. His gaze fell upon the untouched plate of food on his desk. He knew what was in it an ingredient he was deathly allergic to. It wasn’t the first time he’d used this little trick to draw her out. She always came running, frantic and beautiful, whenever he pushed himself to the edge.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice dripping with both affection and a dark obsession. “You love taking care of me, don’t you? You’ll come if I need you. You have to.”

Without hesitation, he grabbed the food and began eating like a man possessed. Each bite burned his throat with the promise of pain, but Satoru didn’t care. His hands trembled slightly, he quickly went to his bathroom to make the scene exactly unfold in front of her. His breath quickening as the allergic reaction began to set in. He staggered to the bed, clutching at his chest, his grin widening despite the agony creeping through his body.

His vision blurred, but he could already picture her panicked expression, the way her trembling hands would desperately try to save him. She’d press her forehead to his, scolding him through tears, calling him an idiot her idiot. He loved it when she got like that, so raw and vulnerable.

Collapsing onto the floor, he whispered her name, his voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Come to me, doll. You can’t hide forever.”

24/7 Possession

Ever since that eventful fun night, life had been bliss for the two of them. Satoru’s endless longing for Y/N had been satiated, and Y/N, despite her initial hesitations, had found her own sense of peace with him. They were inseparable—so much so that the very idea of distance between them was unthinkable.

But, of course, peace never lasted long.

“Ugh, fuck… I have to go to school tomorrow,” Satoru groaned, his muffled voice coming from where his face was buried against Y/N’s stomach. He was sprawled across her lap, holding onto her like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy.

Y/N’s focus, however, was on the TV, her fingers absently playing with his hair as the show absorbed all her attention.

“Doll,” he muttered, his tone slightly sharper now, his lips brushing against the fabric of her shirt. He tilted his head to look up at her, his cerulean eyes narrowing when he realized she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Doll.” This time, his voice carried a bite, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

When she still didn’t respond, he sat up abruptly, his presence demanding. With one swift motion, he grabbed the remote and shut off the television, the room plunging into silence.

“Can’t you pay attention to me for once?” he snapped, his gaze sharp as he stared at her.

Y/N blinked, startled out of her trance. “Oh… sorry. What’s wrong?”

Lately, she had noticed subtle shifts in Satoru’s behavior. He was still as sweet and affectionate as ever—borderline suffocating at times—but there was an edge to him now, a sense of restlessness she couldn’t quite place.

“I have to go to school tomorrow,” he said, his voice quieter this time, though no less petulant. He pouted, leaning in close, as if the idea of being apart from her even for a moment was unbearable. “I’ll be gone.”

Y/N tilted her head, unsure how to react. “Okay?” she said cautiously, her tone more curious than concerned.

“Aren’t you gonna miss me?” Satoru’s pout deepened, and his tone carried a slight whine.

She hesitated, her naivety as a doll making her blunt in moments like this. “I suppose I will… but you need school, after all.”

Her attempt at being rational didn’t land well. Satoru’s demeanor shifted almost instantly, his eyes narrowing as a shadow of irritation crossed his features.

“Seems like you barely care about me,” he muttered darkly, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Y/N blinked, confused by the sudden change in his mood. She wanted to say something, to reassure him, but the fear of upsetting him made her pause. She had learned by now that upsetting Satoru was… dangerous. It wasn’t just his sharp words or intense glares—when he was truly upset, he’d grow sick, fragile, as though her rejection drained the very life out of him.

Her heart clenched at the thought, and without thinking, she blurted out, “How about I attend with you?”

The suggestion felt ridiculous even to her, but it was the only thing she could think of to ease the tension. She wasn’t fond of the idea, not at all, but if it kept him happy, then maybe it was worth it.

Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise, his frown instantly replaced by a wide, almost manic grin. “That’s a great idea! With that, I’ll have you by my side 24/7!”

Before she could react, he jumped off the couch and dashed out of the room, already muttering about getting the paperwork sorted. His energy was infectious, but Y/N couldn’t help the pit that formed in her stomach.

There was something unsettling about the way he’d latched onto the idea so quickly, as though he couldn’t fathom even a single moment apart from her. A part of her felt… upset, though she wasn’t sure why.

As she watched him disappear down the hall, her hand instinctively reached for her chest, where an unfamiliar ache lingered. Her human form might have made her capable of emotions she hadn’t known as a doll, but it also left her vulnerable.

And with Satoru’s obsessive love pulling her in deeper, she wasn’t sure if that vulnerability was something she could handle or escape.

Arriving on the school grounds after nearly a month of absence, Satoru and Y/N immediately became the center of attention. Whispers fluttered around them like a wave, and eyes followed them wherever they went. Satoru, known for his striking looks and the fact that he was rarely seen with a woman, had entered with a woman now his woman. And not just any woman, but Y/N, who matched his beauty perfectly. The air buzzed with curiosity and awe:

“Oh my god...” “She’s stunning…” “I’d skip school too if I had a girlfriend like that…”

Y/N, her cheeks flushed from the attention, shifted uncomfortably. The stares felt like a weight on her shoulders, each one making her feel smaller. She leaned in close to Satoru, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Satoru, I’m uncomfortable...”

Satoru's lips curled into a smug, almost possessive smile as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Aww, doll... just stay close to me, okay?” His voice was soothing, but there was a coldness to it that seemed to warn everyone around them to stay away.

He reveled in the attention they were getting, his ego soaring higher with each admiring glance his doll received. But as he noticed the way the others looked at her, something dark and twisted began to stir inside him. They couldn’t have her. No one could.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on Y/N’s shoulder tightening as he walked, each step full of possessiveness. The need to make every person who dared look at his doll stop was overwhelming. He could feel his temper building, the urge to make them pay.

When they finally arrived at the classroom, Satoru’s friends immediately turned their attention to them. Shoko’s raised eyebrow was the first indication that something had shifted.

“Any explanation?” she asked, smirking as she took in the sight of Y/N standing next to Satoru.

Y/N, feeling a sudden wave of intimidation, instinctively hid behind Satoru, her hands nervously twisting together.

“Hey, now,” Satoru growled protectively, his voice dripping with a possessive edge. “Don’t go scaring my fiancée.”

“Fiancée? The fuck?” Suguru raised an eyebrow, glancing between Satoru and Y/N, clearly confused. He hadn’t heard a word about this, and yet here they were, with Satoru acting like the proudest man alive.

“Well, as you can see,” Satoru said with an arrogance that bordered on smugness, “I’m with my fiancée, Y/N.”

Satoru gently pulled Y/N to his side, his hand firmly resting on her waist as he positioned her in front of him. His gaze flickered over his friends, watching their reactions as they took in the sight of Y/N. Shoko’s eyes widened slightly, but she couldn’t help but mutter, “Mhm... pretty.”

She didn’t say more, but it was clear that even she couldn’t deny the allure of Y/N. The way she held herself, the delicate beauty she exuded it was impossible not to be captivated.

“I’m happy for you,” Shoko added, her tone playful, but her eyes flickered toward Satoru. “Finally, someone bagged you.”

Satoru didn’t answer. He kept his gaze trained on Y/N, his protective instincts almost visibly radiating. But as the banter continued, his attention shifted to something more troubling: Nanami’s gaze.

Nanami had been quiet, as usual, but his eyes were focused on Y/N too focused. It wasn’t the fleeting look of admiration others had, but a lingering, almost appreciative gaze that made Satoru’s blood run cold.

His grip on Y/N’s waist tightened, and his eyes narrowed. What the hell is he staring at?

Y/N, however, didn’t seem to notice the silent battle of wills taking place. Instead, she found herself drawn to Nanami’s eyes there was something about his calm demeanor, the way he took her in, that made her feel... flustered. She couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, feeling an unexpected thrill at being noticed by someone other than Satoru.

That was a mistake.

Satoru’s smile remained plastered on his face, but it was sharp, like the edge of a knife. His jealousy simmered just below the surface. He didn’t like how Y/N squirmed under Nanami’s stare. He didn’t like the way she looked interested.

He cleared his throat, his voice low and almost teasing. “Doll, why don’t you take a seat over there?”

Y/N nodded, her heart racing for reasons she didn’t fully understand. She moved to sit down, but the tension between her and Satoru was thick, suffocating, and he watched her every move like a hawk.

But even as he instructed her to sit, his mind was clouded with dark thoughts. Every time Y/N glanced back at Nanami, the more it ate at him. She was his. His to look at, to touch, to claim. No one especially not Nanami could look at her the way he could.

“Hey, Satoru, you good?” Suguru’s voice broke through his thoughts, but Satoru didn’t answer right away.

He was too busy watching, too busy calculating.

“Uh-huh,” Satoru said with a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze shifted from Nanami to Y/N, and then to Suguru, who didn’t seem to notice the storm brewing in Satoru’s chest.

“Doll,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to anyone else. “You’re all mine.”

The cost of glances

As they arrived back home, Satoru’s room felt like a sanctuary of intimacy, but it also reeked of something darker, something more possessive. Y/N bounced around the room, giddy from the day's experiences, her voice filled with excitement.

“Satoru, it was so fun!” she squealed, her eyes shining with delight as she rambled about everything she had enjoyed. She didn't even notice the shift in Satoru’s calm demeanor, the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her, a faint but undeniable edge to his smile.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with an almost calculating gaze. “Hey, doll… why don’t you be a doll for a while?” he asked, his voice smooth, with just a hint of something deeper lurking beneath.

Y/N paused, furrowing her brows in confusion. “Why?” she asked, despite already feeling the weight of his words pressing down on her. She tried to smile, but it felt strained, like she was walking on eggshells around him.

Satoru stepped forward slowly, his gaze growing intense. “You need rest too, doll.” His words were soft, but his hands reached for her, brushing a strand of hair from her face before planting a soft, almost reverent kiss on her forehead.

Y/N froze, a sense of unease trickling down her spine. She couldn’t read him. The glasses he wore today made him seem distant, almost unreadable. It was as though he was a different version of himself—still the same Satoru, but... colder, more controlled. She didn’t know what to make of it.

She reluctantly obeyed, her movements stiff and robotic as she slipped into her doll form. As she sat motionless, her heart raced. She hated the stillness, the loss of control, but she had no choice. Satoru had a way of making her comply. She sat there, frozen in place, as the hours slipped by, each second stretching longer than the last.

At dawn, she was startled awake. Her body felt stiff, the transition from human to doll always leaving her aching. She blinked rapidly, adjusting to the soft morning light, and noticed Satoru was already getting ready.

She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she knew the answer already. She had two more hours before she could return to her human form, and she hated the feeling of helplessness during those moments.

Before she could voice her confusion, she heard Satoru’s voice, calm and chilling.

“Hey, doll… I’m taking you on a trip with me.” His words were punctuated by a sinister undertone, a promise of something neither good nor innocent.

Y/N looked up at him, her stomach twisting. She didn’t know what was happening, but she could feel that something dark was about to unfold. She was so used to his unpredictability, but this time... it was different.

Satoru gently picked her up, his hand sliding under her, and placed her in the pocket of his shirt. His touch was tender, almost too tender, as if it was meant to make her feel safe, even though she had a sinking feeling deep in her gut.

They moved quietly, Satoru’s footsteps soft against the floor, and Y/N could feel her heart racing as they stepped outside.

The air was still. Too still.

And then, Satoru’s voice broke the silence.

“You guys think you were slick with those glances…” He muttered to himself, his words dark and cold, his eyes narrowing as though they were focused on something far away. “How unfaithful of you, doll…”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as a chill ran down her spine. His words made her uneasy. What was he talking about?

But then the terrifying truth unfolded before her eyes.

Satoru’s hand moved with startling speed, and before Y/N could even process what was happening, she heard a sickening sound flesh tearing, a sharp gasp of pain.

She looked up, and her eyes went wide in horror.

Satoru was standing over Nanami, a knife in his hand, his expression cold and almost... satisfied as he plunged it deep into Nanami’s chest.

"S-Satoru!?" Nanami gasped, his voice shaking as the horror of the moment enveloped him. Unfolding right in front of Y/N's eyes She wanted to scream, to run, to do something anything but she was helpless, trapped in her doll form, unable to stop what was happening.

Satoru didn’t stop. His eyes were cold, void of any remorse as he delivered each stab with meticulous precision. The blood splattered around them, staining everything in sight.

“This is the cost for letting your eyes linger too much...” His voice was almost casual, as if he were speaking about something trivial, something insignificant. But to Y/N, it felt like the world was crashing down.

She could feel the blood splashing onto her, her skin soaking in the thick, warm liquid. Her body was frozen in terror, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend the chaos around her. Why is he doing this? Why is he hurting Nanami?

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wanted to cry out, but her body wouldn’t move. She could barely comprehend what was happening—how the man who claimed to love her, the man who always told her that she was his, was now... this.

Satoru stood over Nanami’s lifeless body, his breathing steady, his expression one of calm satisfaction. Then, he turned his gaze to Y/N, his lips curling into a smile that sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re scared, aren’t you, doll?” he asked softly, almost tenderly. “But don’t worry. He’s the one with the problem, not you.”

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was no escaping the twisted affection in his gaze, the possessiveness that gripped him, that made him do... this. She was helpless. She was nothing more than his doll, and in that moment, she realized how deep his obsession truly ran.

What could she possibly do against him? Even in her human form, could she escape? No. Satoru’s grip on her was too tight, his control too absolute.

The night had been horrifying. Seven boys seven lives extinguished by Satoru’s cold, merciless hands. Y/N couldn’t forget the blood, the cries, the lifeless bodies left in his wake. The memory lingered, haunting her every thought. She had refused to return to her human form after that her fear far too overwhelming to face what Satoru had become.

But what truly unsettled her was the fact that Satoru didn’t pursue her like he always did. The desperate, obsessive need for her was absent, replaced by a cold, calculated silence. His behavior had shifted. It felt like he was biding his time, waiting for something, but what?

Today, as she lay nestled in the bag Satoru had placed her in for their trip to school, she tried to block out the unsettling feeling in her chest. The soft, rhythmic sound of his steps did little to soothe her. He was different too calm. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel his presence, like an ominous shadow looming over her.

When they arrived at school, the air felt heavy. The usual noise and chatter seemed distant, muffled under the weight of something dark. Y/N could feel the tension building, her unease growing with every passing second.

The classroom fell into an eerie silence when the teacher stepped up to the front of the room. Her face was pale, strained with something tragic.

“Class will be suspended for a week due to the recent murders of several students,” the teacher announced, her voice faltering as she continued. “Among the victims was Nanami Kento.”

A collective gasp filled the room. Shoko’s face crumpled in grief, her sobs breaking free as she wailed. Suguru was by her side immediately, offering comfort, his eyes red with concern and pain. But Satoru? He was still. His eyes were empty, his expression lifeless. He didn’t even flinch at the mention of Nanami’s death, as though he were unaffected.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her chest. There was something profoundly wrong in the way he was acting. It was as though the man she once knew her beloved Satoru was no longer here. In his place stood someone unrecognizable, someone terrifying.

Suguru couldn’t help but glance at his best friend, concern lacing his features. He could see the subtle shift in Satoru’s demeanor. The usual playful glint in his eyes had been replaced by an unsettling emptiness. It was almost like the Satoru he once knew had been consumed by something darker, something sinister.

Suguru stepped closer, placing a hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “Hey, man… You okay?” His voice was quiet, unsure, but Satoru didn’t respond. He simply stared ahead, his eyes cold, his gaze distant.

Y/N watched all of this, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the growing distance between her and Satoru, like a wall that had silently risen between them. The strange, unsettling calm that he radiated was more terrifying than his usual intensity. She knew him well enough to know that when he was silent, when he was calm… that’s when he was the most dangerous.

Suguru’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Satoru… you sure you’re alright?”

Without warning, Satoru’s head turned sharply to meet Suguru’s eyes. His gaze was cold, void of emotion. “I’m fine,” he said simply, his voice devoid of the usual warmth. It was flat, almost mechanical.

But to Y/N, the words felt like a lie. Something was brewing beneath the surface, something darker, and she couldn’t figure out what it was. Every part of her screamed that she needed to get away, that she needed to flee before it was too late.

She didn’t know how long she’d been in her bag, but she had become acutely aware of the tension between them. The way he never looked at her, the way he avoided her gaze it was like he was waiting for something. Watching her, yet not seeing her. It made her skin crawl.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Y/N didn’t feel the usual sense of relief. She felt trapped, cornered by the unsettling presence of Satoru, by his silence, by the coldness that had taken over him.

She felt the bag shift as Satoru picked it up. The movement was precise, deliberate, and she knew he was still in control. He was always in control.

Satoru’s voice, low and chilling, broke the silence. “Let’s go home, doll.”

His words, though calm, sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the tension tightening in the air, suffocating her, as if something was about to snap.

Doll

Two days passed. Satoru had returned to the man Y/N once knew crazy in love, his eyes filled with affection as he cradled her motionless form. The tenderness in his touch made her heart race.

“You’re so beautiful,” Satoru murmured, his voice low and reverent. “I’m so inlove with you” His words were like sweet whispers in her ear, and despite herself, Y/N couldn’t help but feel warmth flooding her chest. She loved him of course, she did. His every word, every soft caress, made her heart flutter.

But Y/N wasn’t naive enough to ignore the truth. The violence. The bloodshed. The deaths. It was like a dark shadow looming over their every moment of bliss. She couldn’t forget it, no matter how badly she wanted to lose herself in Satoru’s affection.

Three days later, Satoru’s presence seemed to evaporate. He had not come to his bedroom once, leaving Y/N in a state of stillness. Motionless. She wanted to look for him, but something kept her rooted to the spot. Fear. The uncertainty of what was really happening. Was he even still here? The possibility that he could disappear forever like Nanami, like the others sent a chill down her spine.

Could she really leave? Was this the sign she’d been waiting for? To escape from the madness, the blood, the danger that surrounded her? But no she wasn’t ready. She couldn’t escape him. Not when he was everything to her.

Suddenly, a sound broke through the silence distressed sobs, a woman crying. Y/N’s heart skipped. She recognized the voice.

“Oh, Satoru… I can’t believe I’m crying over your ass.”

Y/N’s mind raced with questions. What did she mean? Was Satoru gone? Dead? Had he finally gone too far this time?

She remained still, her body frozen, trying to piece together what was happening. Then, the door opened, and in walked Shoko Satoru’s best friend, the woman who had always stood by his side. Her face was red from crying, her cheeks streaked with tears.

“God, I hate you, Satoru,” Shoko choked out between sobs, her voice breaking. “If I had known you’d be next… after Nanami... I really would’ve…”

She could barely finish her sentence, her hiccups only adding to the distress in her voice. The words slowly started to sink into Y/N’s mind, each one sharper than the last. Satoru was dead? No… It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.

The thought of Satoru dead terrified Y/N terrified her to the core but it was also strangely relieving. He scared her. The blood, the killings, his relentless obsession. But... he was also the man she loved. Her protector, her everything. He had given her so much, but now, in his absence, she didn’t know where she stood.

A tear slipped from Y/N’s doll-like eyes, glistening in the soft light of the room. Perhaps it was time for her to let go. To move on to a life free from the darkness Satoru had brought her into.

Then, a sound to her left caused her heart to stop.

A small, white-haired doll, so similar to her size but far more masculine, was placed gently on the study table in front of her. It was a perfect replica of Satoru, but with something off about it. The same gaze, the same features, but lifeless. Cold.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Shoko’s voice was distant, almost empty as she turned to leave, her words lingering in the air.

But Y/N couldn’t tear her gaze away from the doll. It was... Satoru? Her heart pounded. Was this the end? Had he truly died, and this was all that was left of him?

But as her thoughts swirled, another voice sounded, one so familiar, so haunting.

His eyes those sapphire eyes stared back at her, empty. His body, once so alive with energy, now nothing but an imitation of the man she knew. A doll.

"Do you like it?" His voice came through her mind like a whisper, dark and chilling. "Now, we’re more compatible. Inseparable."

Y/N blinked, her hands trembling as she reached toward him. The familiar form of Satoru, yet... empty. The blood-stained hands that had once taken life were now still, unable to touch her again, to claim her as his. But it was a twisted irony. His obsession had consumed him entirely, and now he had become what he feared most: a doll.

Shoko’s voice echoed in the background, but it was drowned out by the terrifying presence of the figure before her. “You think I would let you go, doll?” Satoru's voice was softer now, though his expression remained just as haunting. "Do you think you can escape me?"

Y/N couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. The words felt like poison in her veins, suffocating her, but she couldn’t move. She stared down at the doll in front of her. Satoru's lifeless eyes never wavered, even as his words played on repeat in her mind.

“Forever,” he murmured. “You’ll always be mine.”

His form had become nothing but a cold imitation. The lines of his face, the tilt of his head, the eyes everything was a perfect replica of the man she once loved. But now, he was nothing more than a hollow object. Yet, in his stillness, in the absence of life, he was still consuming her.

“You thought you could be free,” Satoru’s voice continued, though the words now felt like a mockery, “but you’ll always come back to me.”

The doll sat lifeless, but his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. His hands, made of porcelain, were colder than the night air. But it didn’t matter. He had won.

Y/N's heart beat in her chest, though her hands were trembling, unable to escape the gaze of the doll, the cold imitation of the man who had consumed her heart.

A tear slipped down her porcelain cheek, and for the first time, Satoru’s voice in her mind quieted. He had become her, in a twisted, ironic way his obsession with her had caused him to be consumed by it.

No, Y/N thought. This was no escape. He hadn’t died. He had just... changed.

But now, more than ever, he would never let her go.

“Forever,” Satoru whispered again.

#gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #yandere x reader #yandere #gojo x reader yandere #soft yandere #yandere x darling #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru x reader

58 notes · View notes

darnell-la · 2 days ago

Note

Hii, so, I have a request for Wade Wilson x fem!reader. Like hardcore non con, or just non con with degradation and all that teasing and mocking Wade would do. (you can take your time of course, there is no rush)

note: we had written a story similar to this request already, and never posted it. we’ll be adding on to it, and post it for this request. thank you for reminding us about our work!

since we had a story like this already, a little gift is at the end…

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

Wade had been at this for an hour now, repeatedly snapping his hips into the drunk girl. Resisting y/n was almost impossible. He was surprised he had lasted this long without feeling her insides.

The way she maimed only made him cum faster. He’s never spilled this much into a woman before. Even if he counts them combined.

Y/n was wet, tight, smelled, and tasted good. She shaved whenever she could, and thankfully for Wade, she had done so last night. Slipping into her smooth cunt felt like a dream, and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

“Augh,” came out of your y/n. Low, but Wade couldn’t miss it. She sounds too good for him to stop now. Who cared if she woke up? He was so lost in the sex that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“You feel it? Feels good, right?” Wade asked as y/n slowly woke up, barely understanding what was happening to her. “You, y/n? Holy shit, you’re tighter than a cock ring — Never knew a human body could feel like this,”

Wade was a man who loved to talk. He was talking to her when she was unconscious, so he couldn’t imagine the things he would want to say to her while she was conscious.

“Goddamn, peanut, like — Can you hear that? Loader then a pot of pasta,” Wade did his best to pound into her deeper, causing her to let out a short scream.

“W-Wade,” y/n breathed heavily as she felt the pain in her lower stomach grow. “Yeah, peanut? All I’m doing is filling you up. Been having this need for months — Basically, since you moved in,”

Y/n had only been living with Wade and his roommate for a few months after being pulled out of the void. She noticed the tension, but he was Wade. She always thought the man was joking.

“Wade, what are you doing?” Y/n whined as she tried to understand the pressure she was feeling all over her body. “Just doing you good. Don’t you think? You came about eight times, and Jesus, you squirt a lot,”

Y/n wasn’t sure, only because she didn’t want to believe it, but after the groans coming from the man’s mouth, she could understand what all the pressure was.

“Wade- What the fuck is wrong with you? Wade!” Y/n cried out as her cunt gripped around his cock, sucking him back in, even when she couldn’t take anymore. Even though she was asleep for most of it, she felt like she’d been at this for hours.

“Oh, don’t get all feisty on me, now. Wanna finish this up before our roomie gets back,” Wade whispered in the younger girl's ear as she tried her best to keep back any moan, but it was impossible.

“N-No, I can’t — It’s too much,” y/n couldn’t help but beg the man to give her some mercy. “Just look at you — Always telling me what to do, but let’s face it- I’m stronger — I can do whatever I’d like with you,” Wade said as he felt himself near again.

“Don’t move too much, peanut — I’m so damn close,” Wade groaned in the young lady's ear as he sped up his pounding. “Gonna fill you one more time, okay, sweetheart?” Wade spoke to y/n, which only made her panic.

“Hey, stop the fighting — It’s not like I haven’t come in you already,” Wade laughed, making y/n understand that the wetness between her legs wasn’t just her. It was the amount of cum he had spilled into her while she was laid out.

“No- Wade, stop it! Stop it!” Y/n cried out as her head got dizzy. She knew she was going to cum, but she was afraid of how huge it would be. She could feel how strong it was going to be.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it again,” Wade bowled as he began filling her up once again, this time feeling a load heavier than the other. “Y-You can’t,” Y/n’s voice came out whiny right before she let loose, cumming all over him again, and throbbing harder than she’s ever done.

“I know it feels good, so you can stop the faking,” Wade whispered before pulling out of y/n’s weak figure. She couldn’t stop herself from twitching and feeling her stomach shift. He had filled her up more than she thought was possible.

“What the fuck did you do?” A stern voice spoke in y/n’s doorway. “Oh, hey there honey bagger — Just got a little steam out of me,” Wade said as he fixed himself up, still tripping from his tip, but he knew if he kept going, he’d never stop.

“Did you fucking kill her, asshole?” Logan felt a bit concerned as he made his way towards her, seeing how weak she was, and most importantly, dripping everything Wade spilled in her.

“God, Wade, what the hell — You didn’t just fill her, you- It’s impossible that’ll all come out — Jesus,” Logan said as he softly turned y/n around so she could rest on her back.

“Well, she’s definitely having my kids,” Wade couldn’t help but take this situation as a joke. He never took anything seriously, and Logan knew that. Part of him hated it, but the other part thanked him. He never knew she could expand and feel like this.

“You good, princess? Anything hurt?” Logan asked, making her shake her head slowly. “Really? I’m surprised,” Logan said, wanting to comfort her, but his cock kept twitching. The sight of her only made him want to fill her next.

“Ah, come on! She’s fine, just look at her — I bet you she’s still throbbing. Look- She definitely is!” Wade said as he pointed to her core, showing how her lips fluttered. Logan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw how pretty the sight was.

“Are you sure you’re fine, princess? You seem like you’re aching,” Logan spoke as he slowly traced his hand down her stomach, feeling how much she shifted. “I-I need to rest,” y/n said, slightly begging for them to let her take a break.

“I know, princess, just let me make sure you’re fine,” Logan said as he slowly rubbed her bud, instantly getting whines from her. “No more, please,” she begged, but he didn’t listen.

“Ssh,” Logan hushed her as he continued by pushing two fingers through her stretched and filled cunt. “L-Logan!” She tried pushing his hand away, but the man was obviously too strong for her, especially in the state she was in now.

“Look at that — You’re not finished yet,” Logan said as he pumped his fingers in and out of her hole, watching the way she shifted on her bed to squirm away from him, but couldn’t.

“S-Stop — Please,” y/n barely had any more fight in her. “Nah uh, you’re gonna be good to me just like you were for Wade,” Logan made sure y/n knew he she wouldn’t be done for a while.

58 notes · View notes

harunade · 1 day ago

Note

y/n being idol and loudly crushing over gunwook!! (like saying his name when people asked for type ) also make it spicy😘😘

ahhh i love this trope so much!!

“Y/nie, what are you looking for in a man?” the mc host asked every one of the members of your group. although it was just your first comeback, fans couldn’t help but be nosy about your romantic and personal lives. “ahh.. someone strong, smart, caring.. and adorable! like Gunwook-oppa!” you smiled at the camera with a light blush across your cheeks. the statement could come as controversial, as no one else other than you named someone. the other members stuck with vague descriptions.

your confession was accepted and viewed positively and surprisingly you weren’t attacked by many and weren’t forced to write an apology. even more, netizens were expecting a collab between the two of you as both you and Gunwook’s groups were promoting at the same time. “y/n, would you do a dance challange with Zerobaseone’s Gunwook? I’m sure the fans will love it” your manager asked you but the answer was obvious. You accepted in an instant, and went back to your dorm where you fangirled with your members. “oh my God, girl… I can’t believe you two will finally meet properly. i’m shipping so hard!!” hyunseo, your leader and also best friend cheered. she always feared negative feedback from such things, so you were content she was excited for you.

needless to say, your challenge with the idol went viral quickly. the opinions were mixed, but most people wanted to see more and more. your companies chose to milk this subject, and place the both of you in a romantic light whenever they got the chance. but you didn’t mind… neither did he.

xxx-xxx: hi, y/n! it’s gunwook. would you mind meeting me in my dressing room in 10 mins?

—

nothing could’ve prepared you for what happened next. as soon as you entered the older boy’s room, you were met with him sitting on a couch manspreading. he signaled for you to join him, and you obliged. “i don’t really know how to say this but.. obviously i saw the things our companies posted with us, and frankly, i really like you. so i really hope you saying that i’m your ideal type wasn’t just fanservice” you couldn’t take him for granted with the look he gave you. Gunwook had just finished performing, so he was sweaty and hus breathing was still unsteady. yet, you could only think about how hot he looked.

“of course i like you, wook. besides, you look so good right now i want to jump your bones” something had gotten over you and took over, you were never so bold. but, neither was he. “so do it”

you didn’t need any more words as you hovered over him and stranded his thighs. he looked up at you with doe eyes and slightly parted lips in anticipation. neither of you could take the tension that had been building over the past weeks, and you finally closed to gap between you, attacking his lips with yours. the relief made him groan in your moan, vibrations with were sent directly to your core. his much larger hands grabbed your hips and pushed them into his hardening cock, humping you from below. the stimulation took over you as your hips matched his rhythm. “need you…” but you both knew that if you were caught it would be over. so you both remained to being clothed.

thankfully, you only wore a skirt and panties, so the layer between the both of you was thin. he could feel your folds with his cock, as he himself wasn’t wearing thick clothes. you moaned as your clit hit his pelvis over and over again. “you look so good when you crumble like that. promise i will give you a proper fuck later” his plump lips were attached to your neck as he whispered sweet words into your ear. it didn’t take you long to reach your high, and the shaking and moaning pushed him of the edge, too.

when you finally lifted yourself, you saw the wet stain on his crotch that was a mix of your fluids. “sorry about the stain” you were dying from embarrassment. “don’t worry, pretty. make it up to me later?” you smiled and nodded.

gunwook pulled you in for a kiss before you had to leave. “you will never guess what happened” hyunseo, who was on the other side of the phone, was announced as you were quickly going back to your dorm, hoping no one saw you

#harunade #zb1 hard hours #zb1 hard thoughts #zb1 x reader #harunade gunwook #gunwook x reader smut #park gunwook smut #gunwook smut #gunwook x reader

60 notes · View notes

eternal-love · 18 hours ago

Note

Hey girl, I was wondering If you could Austin x Wife!reader. Maybe he talk about reader in interview or during press. Or maybe paparazzi bombard him and reader, on A walk? Or any scenario you Like.

LIGHTS, LABOR, ACTION!

Pairing: Austin Butler x Director!Reader

Summary: While being in the middle of filming your new movie, baby decides to come into the spotlight. But a moment that should be intimate, is ruined by paparazzi.

Warning: Childbirth description?

Note: I’m so sorry for taking so long, I haven’t been in the right mind space lately. But I’m back.

You knew you shouldn’t even be on set; even your doctor told you so. But your film was very behind schedule, and you needed to get it done. So you sat on your director’s chair. One hand on your big baby bump as the actors were getting their marks.

You were a director, you have done a few short films before, and under your name there were only two movies— this would be the third. A Sofia Coppola in the making.

Filming would be swift, if it wasn’t for the contractions you started having, you tried to push through them. You didn’t want to call off filming, or call Austin. He would tell you ‘I told you so’ and as the contractions got worse, you stared down at his contact on your phone.

“Is everything alright?” Your assistant asked as she walked closer to you.

“Mhmm…” you hummed in response, nodding your head as your hand gripped the armrest of your chair. The pain was basically unbearable.

“If you need anything you can—”

You didn’t mean to be rude, or snappy, or anything but God. His voice irritated you so much. “I know!”

Your assistant nodded as he knew he should probably shut up. You were ok your own, letting out labored breaths. Until a striking contraction hit you and you let out a loud whine. This was it, your water had broken. As you looked down at the liquid dripping down your legs, wetting the floor, your clothes and legs.

“Fuck.” You muttered as you inhaled and exhaled.

Didn’t take long for your assistant to drive you to your chosen hospital. And for Austin to call you.

“I told you! I told you! You should have stayed home with me!” Austin freaked out over the phone, you could hear him running around, probably throwing all you had prepared on the car.

“Right now it’s not the fucking time to nag me…” You said, your breath coming out on a hitch as contractions pained you.

“Oh God.” Austin said as he got into his car and started driving. He felt so desperate because he wasn’t there by your side just yet.

The private hospital took you in quickly, they asked your assistant for all your information as they prepared you for the birth. Inside your hospital room, you walked around, a hand on your lower back as you waited for Austin. Once you heard him come in, you turned around, your teeth gritting.

“What took you so fucking long?” You asked.

“Listen, I told you to stay home.” Austin said, putting all the baby bags and your bag on the couch. He walked closer to you. “How’re you feeling?”

You glared at him. “Like I’m in a field of roses, my love.” You said sarcastically, your free hand rubbing your baby bump. Urging the baby to come out.

Austin walked over to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. Which didn’t really help but you loved his enthusiasm.

“We’re in this together, remember, baby?” Austin whispered softly, he leaned down and kissed you softly. You were a sweating mess, but he gladly kissed you. His tongue sneaking inside your mouth as his hand went to your jaw. “Don’t forget it.”

You were told that childbirth was easy, that it was a walk around a park. No one ever told you that an epidural hurt to fucking much. Or that pushing would be so difficult. You had an idea, you just underestimated it. Specially since the epidural was a fail, you felt every inch of that pain.

As you were surrounded by nurses, a doctor and Austin, you pushed, squirming and whining in pain, why the fuck did your baby boy wouldn’t come out?

It was the worst experience of your life, and to have Austin trying to be supportive. You loved him, you truly did. But his words did nothing but stress you out more. You wanted him to shut up.

You successfully gave birth to your boy, one that cried very loudly, and wrath had a full head of hair already. As soon as they brought him to your chest, you held him close, chuckling as he stopped crying once he probably heard your heartbeat.

They did the usual routine of cleaning up both you and the baby, took you to the hospital room. The normal stuff. You finally rested. Austin was over the moon, he was more in love with you.

“Well done, baby. You— were amazing.” He held your hand as he sat by your side, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

“Austin, baby. I called you a cunt.” You whispered, if you laughed, it kinda hurt.

“I get it now. The doctor told me I talked too much. Sorry.” Austin apologized. “But what you did was amazing. I’d rather fight a bear than go through what you went through.”

“Hmm… I’d rather fight the bear too.” He chuckled as he leaned in and kissed your cheek. Holding you close for a while.

The door of the hospital room opened, a nurse came with the baby so you’d feed him. Austin already named the baby, Marlon, not your favorite name but you already knew it was because of Brando.

“I believe he has my nose.” He said proudly. You could only give an incredulous look. That baby looked just like you, to his disappointment but he tried to fool himself.

Did fatherhood turned him into this dumby airhead? Not that you complained but seriously, he behaved differently. You stayed at the hospital for a few days, trying to feel strong again specially after such painful birth. Many of you friends sent you gift baskets, from celebrities to childhood friends.

“From Tom and Z, how adorable.” Austin said as he had Marlon in his arms, he inspected the amazing basket you had just received. “Look, babe, your favorite chocolate!”

Austin threw the small packet towards you as he could. You immediately ate it. You still craved a lot of stuff.

“You’re like an angel to them. They’ve been treating you as if you gave birth to Jesus. All these gifts?” Austin smiled, he loved that his son was already loved by everyone. The baby fit right into his arms, he already loved the baby like he loved no other.

The day you were going to leave the hospital, you got ready, tried to wear the most comfortable stuff. Tried to keep yourself focused on the baby. And as you two made your way towards the exit, you heard it— paparazzi. With their loud voices and annoying cameras.

You instinctively held Marlon closer to you, and he instinctively held you closer.

“How did they even…?” He questioned himself, he didn’t know how they found out you were in this hospital. It was a private one after all. He was never fond of paparazzi, no matter beneficial it would be for his or your career. This was supposed a tender moment between you two.

“I should have gotten more presentable.” You muttered before you made your way outside.

Paparazzi swarmed you the minute they could. Their camera and flashes blinding your sight.

“How was the labor, y/n? Did it go smoothly?”

“Austin, did you cry when the baby was born?”

“Are you ready for sleepless nights, Austin?”

“Can we get a picture of the little one? Just a peek!”

“Thank you for worrying,” Austin managed to say loud enough for some of them to hear, as he tried to make you two get out the sea of paparazzi. It looked like a zombie movie scene.

All you wanted was to be home; with your dear husband and your baby. Without having a nurse, a doctor, your family or his family telling you if what you did was right or wrong.

As soon as you were inside the car, on the backseat, you secured the baby on the baby seat and finally breathed as Austin started driving. He didn’t say a single word. All you could see him do was clench his jaw.

When he helped you get inside the house, inside to the bedroom and into the bed. Baby Marlon slept peacefully in your arms, you only sang quietly to him. As Austin was by your side.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, he acted as if the paparazzi thing was on him.

“For what, baby?” You asked, as you stopped singing to Marlon.

“For those assholes. I promise you, next time— I’ll find a better hospital, I’ll be more intimidating. Because I love you. And I want what’s best for you.”

You couldn’t help but soften at his words. You knew he was always trying to improve, that’s why you loved him so much.

You found this as a chance to kiss him, tenderly, this man was perfect in any way. He was the kind of man your mother told you to get. The kind of man your father high-fived you for bagging. His lips were soft like a pillow, so plump and sweet. You enjoyed tasting them, feeling them, owning them.

“You were perfect out there. We’re in this together, are we not? I love you so much, you can’t even imagine it.”

You said, your free hand reaching for his cheek.

“And you said next time? Slow down, big guy. We’re just getting started.”

#austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler fandom #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler is so hot #austin butler fluff #fluff

46 notes · View notes

strawberrykidneystone · 4 hours ago

Text

your hot neighbor sevika pt. 2

a/n: AHHH TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON PART ONE I REALLY LIKE THIS SERIES IM GLAD YALL DO TOO <333

part 1

a week later, after silco reluctantly had one of his goons trail you when sevika asked, she got your name

damn, you had a very pretty name

after work, you went behind the apartment building as usual to fill up the bowls with food and water for the stray cats

and wash the blankets in the cat houses if they needed

but someone had beat you to it

there she was, sevika making a scrunched up face as she opened a few cans of wet food for the eager cats surrounding her

you practically swooned at the sweet sight, hot and good with animals? what didn’t this woman have?

she brushed her hands off and stood up straight, finally making eye contact with you

“hey there pretty girl”

you giggled and crossed your arms, glancing down at the cats enjoying their food, “ ‘re you a cat mom now sevika?”

“always have been, though someone else feeds them sometimes, guess i share custody,” she said smoothly with a wink, bending down and scratching down the back of an orange tabby

“wow, sharing custody and you haven’t even taken me out yet.”

sevika stood back up to her standing height, basically towering over you as she leaned in close, “well i know a way to rectify that, y/n.”

you raised an eyebrow with a smirk and looked up at her so that the two of you were practically nose to nose, “yeah? is that the prize you want for getting my name ‘vika?”

“i’m thinking of a much sweeter prize,” she practically purred and tilted her head, her lips so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath against your own lips

you looked down at her lips and bit your lip, glancing briefly off to the side, “here? in front of the kids?”

sevika snorted and half smirked, her lambret piercing tugging to the side as she did, “im not about to let a few cats cock block me.”

you laughed and shook your head, throwing your arms around her neck and pressing a deep kiss against her lips that she immediately returned, wrapping her arms around your waist

one of your hands felt up the fuzzy side of her undercut and pushed your fingers through her hair, causing sevika to groan against your lips

she squeezed your waist and pulled you closer, your chests pressed firmly against each other as the kiss got deeper

just as you bit sevika’s bottom lip to shove your tongue in her mouth, one of the cats coughed up a hair ball

what a mood killer…

the two of you laughed it off, you explaining that the cat was unofficially named smoky since she coughed like a smoker (sevika laughed a little too hard at that🤨)

sevika cleared her throat and looked down into your eyes, “so… i’ll pick you up at 8?”

“8 it is,” you said with a smile, holding your hand out to her

she took your hand with her flesh one and laced your fingers together, walking into the apartment building

she walked you to your front door and the two of you shared a small peck before she walked back to her own apartment to get ready for your date

you swore that she was walking with a spring in her step that wasn’t there before

the date goes well and the two of you live happily ever after with 20 cats weeeeee!

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds

#sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #reader x sevika #sevika x female reader #sevika x fem reader #neighbor sevika #sevika headcanon #sevika headcanons #strawberrykidneystone #strawberrykidneystone writes

33 notes · View notes

kyrsse · 1 day ago

Text

Heartstrings

୧⍤⃝ summary: The popular girl's life turned upside down when a charming skateboarder entered the picture. Things got even more chaotic as she navigates first crushes, secret dates, and the trials of teenage life. ୧⍤⃝ tags: Romance, Comedy, High School AU, First Kiss, High School romance, Skateboarder Rafayel, Popular Mc, Daddy sylusss rahhh! ୧⍤⃝ notes: I Accidentally bumped into an 'old friend', which made me reminisce and decided to turn it into a story. This was rushed so sorry for the mistakes. I decided to give mc a name but still wanted the mc to be there so I made it to Mckenzie. MC is her nn but it's still pronounced as em-cee cause mick is just ugly.

I was a top student, and performing music with my band was my absolute favorite part of school. I loved belting out our favorite tunes at every monthly event.

I seemed to have it all: good grades, decent looks (or so I was told), a bit of local fame, and a talent for music. But there was a boyfriend-shaped hole in my life. Not that I was desperate, mind you. I wasn’t some love-starved maniac. I received a mountain of chocolates and flowers every Valentine’s Day (and even on random Tuesdays), but my strict parents had a “no dating until you’re practically married” policy. Plus, honestly, no one had really caught my eye. Disappointing my parents was also a major deterrent. I was content with my friends… or so I thought.

Then Friendship Day loomed on the horizon. The day before the big event, my bandmates and I were scrambling to finalize our setlist. Why the last-minute rush? Well, we’d been swamped all month. You can’t blame us for being busy, right?

“Hey, how about we play ‘Every Summertime’? It’s got that high school nostalgia vibe,” Tara, our rhythm guitarist, suggested.

“Tara, they were eighteen and undergrads in the song, they already graduated high school” Xavier, our ever-practical keyboardist, pointed out.

“Let’s play it anyway” Simone, our drummer, declared, effectively ending the debate. We used to have a bass player, but his mom had recently banned him from performing. Talk about a buzzkill.

“Okay, ‘Every Summertime’ it is,” I conceded. “But we still need to choose five more songs and rehearse them. And remember, IT’S TOMORROW, PEOPLE!” I reminded them, feeling a wave of stress wash over me. I still had three quizzes to study for, and I’d barely cracked open the books for two of them.

We rehearsed all day, and by the end, I was exhausted. After practice, I crashed at Tara’s house. My strict parents somehow allowed sleepovers, mainly because Tara’s house was literally next door. Walking ten extra steps to my own house seemed like an insurmountable obstacle at that point. We watched some cheesy movies until we both drifted off.

The next day, the day of the performance, I was a nervous wreck. I hadn’t had much time to practice the guitar solo, and I was praying my hands wouldn’t turn into sweaty, trembling messes. As I plugged in my guitar, I peeked through the curtains at the audience. My eyes widened. Every single senior high student was there. Oh, great. Usually, we performed for only half the student body at a time. This was a whole new level of pressure.

When our band was announced, I took a deep breath and stepped into the spotlight. We launched into our first song, trying to project an air of cool confidence. As I sang, my eyes scanned the crowd, and I noticed him. A guy with vibrant purple hair was staring directly at me. I was used to people watching us perform, but this was different. His gaze felt… different. My fingers faltered on the fretboard, and my voice wavered. My bandmates exchanged confused glances. Tara started singing my part, while Simone whispered, “Hey, Mc, what’s wrong?”

I snapped back to attention, forcing myself to focus. Pull it together, Mckenzie! I mentally scolded myself. This was even more embarrassing than my first-ever performance. As I continued singing, I couldn’t help but notice the purple-haired guy smile. Stop it, I thought, my heart pounding in my chest. Throughout the entire performance, I was acutely aware of his eyes on me. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t resist sneaking glances. I was practically trembling, but I was determined to maintain a professional facade.

When our last song ended, I practically sprinted backstage, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The loud music from the speakers outside seemed to amplify my racing heart. He had looked so… ethereal under the stage lights. The colored lights played across his face, and the top two buttons of his polo shirt were undone, his tie loosened just enough to make him look… GAWD, Macy, get a grip! I berated myself.

While I was busy trying to calm down, my bandmates rushed in, their faces etched with concern. Xavier patted me on the back, while Simone fetched me some water. Tara bombarded me with questions and gave me my inhaler, but my mind was still replaying the image of the purple-haired guy. A small, involuntary smile crept onto my lips. Was this what a crush felt like? It was a completely new sensation. The only boys I’d ever “admired” before were cartoon characters like Robin from Teen Titans Go! or Terence from Tinkerbell.

Tara, noticing my dreamy expression, stepped back, her expression unamused. “Girl,” she said, her voice flat. “Are you high?”

🐚

The next morning, I hopped out of my dad’s car, waved goodbye, slung my bag over my shoulder, and started the familiar trek towards my classroom. However, as I approached the elevators, I froze. Leaning against the wall, looking impossibly cool, was him—the purple-haired guy from last night’s performance. And beside him, chatting amicably, was Zayne. Zayne. Campus heartthrob, former next-door neighbor, and the boy I’d played pretend-wedding with when we were kids. The memory made me cringe. I’d been so mortified by the childhood antics that I’d mostly avoided him as we got older, limiting our interactions to awkward “hi’s” and “hello’s.”

Seeing them together sent a wave of panic through me. I considered a quick detour to the stairwell. Five flights of stairs were preferable to facing that combination. But as I began to veer off course, Zayne spotted me.

“McKenzie,” he called out, his voice warm and familiar.

I froze mid-stride, my back to them, pretending I hadn’t heard. I waited for him to say something else, hoping against hope that he'd just let me escape.

“McKenzie, why don’t you take the elevator?” he continued. “The fifth floor is a very long walk.”

I reluctantly turned around, plastering a polite smile on my face. I avoided looking at the purple-haired guy, focusing instead on Zayne. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice a little higher than usual. “I always take the stairs. It’s good exercise.”

“You never take the stairs because of your asthma, though,” Zayne countered, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want to be carried to the clinic the moment you reach your classroom?”

“My asthma is not that severe.” I sighed. But he kinda does have a point, I even saw other kids breathing heavily when reaching their designated floors even if they didn't have one. Defeated, I walked over to them, keeping a respectable distance. The elevator doors opened, revealing a surprisingly crowded car. We squeezed in, and I immediately found myself pressed against several other students. Zayne’s purple-haired friend ended up directly behind me. I tried to subtly shift to a less… intimate position, but just then, someone else squeezed into the elevator, causing me to stumble backward. Before I could crash into the purple-haired guy, he instinctively reached out and steadied me, his hand briefly resting on my back. “Careful there,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. I avoided eye contact, my cheeks burning.

“T-thanks,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

When the elevator finally reached the fifth floor, I practically bolted out, eager to escape the close quarters and the intense gaze of the purple-haired guy. But to my surprise, Zayne and his friend followed me. I stopped, turning to face them, confusion written all over my face. “Isn’t your classroom on the seventh floor?” I asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re not following you,” Zayne said, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re just going to visit an old friend.” He then turned and walked down a hallway in the opposite direction of my classroom.

I stood there, completely bewildered. Before they disappeared around the corner, the purple-haired guy turned back, winked at me, and gave me a mischievous smirk. My face erupted in a fresh wave of heat. I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

As they disappeared from sight, I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “How many times have I embarrassed myself already?” I muttered to myself, feeling a wave of mortification wash over me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Maybe I should just transfer schools. Or move to another country. Or perhaps fake my own death. Stop M, you’re overreacting. Stay cool.

🐚

After class, I gathered my things, grabbed my jacket and wallet, and headed out to meet my friends for our usual post-class snack run to the cafeteria. I found Tara waiting by the lockers, and we started walking towards Simone and Xavier’s classroom. As we passed the elevators, I noticed the doors closing. And through the narrow gap, I caught a glimpse of… him. Zayne’s purple-haired friend. Again. Why was I suddenly seeing him everywhere? I hadn’t even noticed him around campus in the past few months. It was starting to feel a little… targeted.

A wave of unexpected anxiety washed over me, tightening my chest. I instinctively reached into my bag for my inhaler and took a quick puff. Tara looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Hey, what’s wrong? You haven’t needed that much lately,” she said, gently patting me on the back. The physical contact helped calm me down a bit.

I gave her a weak smile, then a playful frown tugged at my lips. “Tara,” I began hesitantly, “I think I might have a little… crush.”

Tara’s eyes widened, and she let out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down. “Omg! Who is the lucky girl?!” she exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me expectantly.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Huh? It’s not a girl,” I said, confusion evident in my voice. “I thought you liked girls, since you always reject all the guys who ask you out.” I chuckled lightly.

Tara’s excitement faltered for a second, then returned with even more intensity. “Ooooh! Spill the tea!” she demanded, practically dragging me along the hallway as I recounted the details of my brief encounters with the mysterious purple-haired guy.

We finally reached Simone and Xavier’s classroom, and after a quick greeting, we all headed to the cafeteria. As we sat down at our usual table, I felt a familiar prickling sensation at the back of my neck. I looked up, and there he was. Again. How did he keep appearing wherever I went? His purple hair was like a beacon in the crowded room. He was already looking at me, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Simone, ever observant, noticed my gaze and followed it to its target. Her expression immediately turned disapproving. “You might not want to get involved with that one, Mc,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “I thought you had standards.”

Xavier, sensing the change in atmosphere, scooted closer to me, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I heard he doesn’t take his studies seriously. By the way, what score did you get on the history test?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

“Only two mistakes,” I replied, still distracted. “I forgot to read the instructions properly.” I rested my head on the table with a groan.

As I did, I saw Zayne and the purple-haired guy stand up and walk away. They were heading towards the exit. Just before they disappeared from view, the purple-haired guy turned back and gave me another wink, sending a fresh wave of heat rushing to my face.

“Oh, guys, let her be,” Tara said, defending me, “It’s not every day she crushes on someone.”

“Yeah, Xavier, let her be,” Simone teased, echoing Tara’s words.

“Hey,” Xavier protested, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You were against it too, just a minute ago.”

I lifted my head from the table, feeling a little less mortified and a little more amused. It seemed my friends were just as confused about this whole situation as I was. But one thing was certain: this purple-haired guy was definitely making my life a lot more… interesting.

🐚

School was finally over, and the sweet relief of freedom washed over me. Xavier invited me to our usual post-school hangout at the nearby café. But today, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. The whirlwind of emotions from the past few days, coupled with the pressure of the performance and the lingering image of him, had taken its toll. I politely declined, promising to catch up with them later.

I found a quiet corner near the school entrance, sinking gratefully into a vacant chair to wait for my ride. I pulled out my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract myself from the lingering thoughts of purple hair and mischievous smirks.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down and saw it was from my dad.

'Sorry sweetheart, Daddy won't be able to pick you up today. I'll send Luke and Kieran to pick you up. Love you lots sweetie, take care.'

A groan escaped my lips. Just my luck. Of all the days I actually wanted to go straight home and collapse into bed, my usual ride was unavailable. Luke and Kieran were my older brothers, and while I loved them, their definition of "picking me up" usually involved loud music which I love but the three of us have different tastes. Luke was a metalhead, while Kieran was an NWJNS enthusiast. The car rides were always a chaotic symphony of their earsplitting singing skills they got from Dad and a general air of chaotic energy. It was definitely not the relaxing end to the day I’d envisioned.

I sighed, shoving my phone back into my bag. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. I might as well prepare myself for the inevitable onslaught of brotherly teasing and questionable music choices. I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment, hoping the wait wouldn't be too long. Maybe if I was lucky, they'd be running late enough that I could catch a few precious minutes of peace. But knowing my brothers, that was highly unlikely. They were probably already circling the school like a pair of overenthusiastic vultures, ready to swoop in and whisk me away on their latest adventure. I just hoped I'd survive the experience.

I heard footsteps approaching and slowly opened my eyes. It wasn't my brothers. It was him. No longer a fleeting glimpse from afar, he was standing right in front of me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I fumbled in my bag for my inhaler, my hands shaking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Ms. Singer,” he said, a charming smile gracing his lips. He was holding a skateboard, casually tucked under his arm. “Is this seat beside you taken?”

“No,” I managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was betraying me with its frantic rhythm. “And don’t call me that.” I turned my attention back to my phone, feigning disinterest.

“Why not? Weren’t you the one who performed a few days ago? You’re also the lead guitarist, if I’m not wrong?” he persisted. I stubbornly refused to look at him, my palms starting to sweat. My whole body was buzzing with nervous energy.

He reached out and gently took my phone, turning it off and placing it back in my bag. “Miss, isn’t it rude to use your phone while talking to someone?” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

“I’m not talking to you,” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“You are now.” He then extended his hand towards me. “I’m Rafayel.”

“I’m…” I hesitated, finally looking up at him. I reluctantly reached out and placed my hand in his. But instead of a handshake, he gently took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “McKenzie, I know,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve had my eye on you for a very long time now.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I was momentarily speechless. This was… unexpected.

“I finally held your hand,”

he said, his smile widening, and I felt my insides melt. Gawd, that smile is going to be the death of me.

“I… You! You’re so… Ugh!” I sputtered, finally finding my voice. “You can’t just do that!” I pulled my hand away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and… something else. Something I couldn't quite name. “Plus,” I continued, “are you stalking me? You suddenly keep appearing after that night. I’ve never seen you around campus before.”

He straightened up, leaning back against the chair, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m not stalking you,” he said. “You just never noticed me.” He paused, then added, “The painting I sent you a few months ago… did you like it?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my gosh, you sent that?” I gasped. “I loved it! It’s so beautiful. Did you make it?”

“No, I bought it,” he said, a perfectly deadpan expression on his face.

“Oh,” I said, my initial enthusiasm deflating slightly. “Well, thanks for the gift anyway.”

He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look replacing his earlier playfulness. “I… I painted it,” he confessed. “I’m glad you liked it. I’m still pretty new to art, though, so I’m not that good.”

“What are you talking about?” I exclaimed, my surprise turning into genuine admiration. “I… I’d love to see your other paintings. They’re amazing.” I quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.

His own cheeks flushed a light pink. “Uh… I, uh… sure,” he stammered, his usual confidence momentarily faltering.

Just then, I heard a distant yell. It was my brothers. “Mc! Stop flirting and come here!” Luke's voice boomed across the parking lot.

My face turned red from embarrassment, “Sorry, I have to go now,” I said, quickly gathering my things. “It was nice talking to you… Rafayel.” I gave him a quick, awkward goodbye and practically sprinted towards the approaching car.

“Wait! You forgot your jacket!” he shouted after me, but I was already halfway across the parking lot. Oh well, he thought, a small smile playing on his lips. At least he finally had a reason to talk to you tomorrow.

I scrambled into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. The twins, Luke and Kieran, were already inside, their faces plastered with matching smirks that could only mean trouble.

“I’m telling Dad,” Kieran announced, his eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.

“No way, I’ll tell him first!” Luke countered, elbowing Kieran in the ribs.

“Guys, seriously,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “He’s just a new friend. You know I don’t have time for romance.” I pulled out my phone, pretending to be engrossed in something fascinating to avoid their scrutinizing gazes.

“Oh really?” Luke said, his smirk widening. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other, though. Hey, hey, hey, look at me if you’re telling the truth.” He reached across the back seat and gently cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his eyes.

I tried to maintain a serious expression, but the sight of Luke’s exaggeratedly suspicious face was too much. A giggle escaped my lips, quickly escalating into a full-blown chuckle.

“See!” Luke yelled triumphantly, dropping his hand from my chin.

"Bro , how can I not laugh when your face looks like that." I chuckled

I burst out laughing again, wiping a tear from my eye. Luke playfully shoved Kieran, who retaliated with a gentle punch to his arm.

“Yeah, bro,” Kieran continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Even I would laugh, bro. Bro, start the engine. Dad is gonna be mad at us, bro.” He punctuated his sentence with another playful nudge to Luke.

I glared at Kieran, thoroughly annoyed by his incessant “bro” usage, and lightly smacked his arm. “Just start the car already,” I said, trying to suppress another giggle. The whole situation was ridiculous, but I couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement I felt at the thought of Rafayel. Even my brothers’ teasing couldn’t completely dampen my spirits.

🐚

The next day, I gave my dad the usual goodbye kiss and hopped out of the car. As I turned to walk towards the school entrance, I heard the familiar rolling sound of a skateboard. My heart immediately did a little skip, and I knew exactly who it was. I turned around to confirm my suspicions, and there he was: Rafayel. He looked effortlessly cool as he skated, the wind tousling his dark purple hair. It was like a scene from a movie, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my own decidedly un-cinematic appearance.

He smoothly stopped right in front of me, holding up his skateboard to prevent it from rolling away.

“You know you could crush my feet with that, right?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant as I started walking towards the school. He fell into step beside me, matching my pace.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t,” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. “As much as I’d love to carry you to the clinic,” he added with a wink, “I wouldn’t want you getting hurt because of me.” Gosh, he always finds a way to flirt, doesn’t he? I thought, desperately trying to keep my heart rate under control.

“You should stop that,” I said, attempting to hide the blush that was creeping up my neck. “I’m not interested in you.”

He just smirked. “Then why is your face red? Did you eat hot sauce for breakfast?”

I rolled my eyes. “Gosh, you’re so annoying,” I muttered, picking up my pace slightly. He easily kept up with me.

Then, he said something that made me stop dead in my tracks. “Will you give me a chance, though?” His voice was suddenly serious, the playful tone gone. “I know I’m not like those guys you see at your fancy parties, but I know I could make you happy. I’m serious about you, McKenzie.”

He stepped closer, gently taking my jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders. “You forgot this yesterday,” he said softly. “Wear it so you don’t get a cold.” He paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ll be waiting for your answer. Take your time. I’m not rushing you, but please… think about it. I really do like you.” With that, he hopped back onto his skateboard and smoothly skated away, leaving me standing there, completely stunned.

I watched him go, my hand instinctively going to the jacket he’d just placed around me. It still held a faint warmth from his touch. My cheeks were burning, and my heart was doing a crazy little dance in my chest.

I looked around, making sure no one was watching, then whispered to myself, a small smile playing on my lips, “Gosh, McKenzie, a little secret wouldn’t hurt, right?” The thought of keeping this unexpected development to myself, at least for a little while, was strangely exciting.

Rafayel and I started hanging out more often. It was… nice. He was funny, charming, and surprisingly thoughtful. My friends were incredibly supportive, which was a huge relief. Even my brothers, after their initial teasing, seemed to approve. They’d even covered for me once when Dad almost caught us sharing an ice cream cone last week. It was a close call, but a well-timed threat about revealing the mysterious scratches on Dad’s brand-new car kept them silent.

My late-night returns home, however, were starting to raise some eyebrows. Dad was becoming suspicious, but I managed to deflect his questions by claiming I was at Simone’s place for extra practice. A big school event was coming up, so it wasn’t entirely a lie. And thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

One evening, as I was giving Dad my usual “I’m going to Simone’s” spiel, Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Dad, don’t worry,” he said, giving me a wink. “We always pick her up, so she’s safe.”

Sylus, however, narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze. “Hmm,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Make sure the three of you are telling the truth. You know the deal sweetie, no boys until you finish studying.” His words hung in the air, making me incredibly nervous. It felt like I was walking a tightrope.

I forced a laugh, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yes, Dad,” I said. “Plus, if I did have a boyfriend, the twins would have already told you by now. You know how big their mouths are.” I shot a playful glare at Luke and Kieran, hoping they’d pick up on the subtle cue.

The twins, however, were not amused. They exchanged a look that clearly said, This is how you repay us after we saved your skin? After we risked Dad’s wrath and the potential grounding of the century? Their expressions were a mix of betrayal and wounded pride, like I’d just publicly announced their deepest, darkest secrets. Luke even mouthed, "We are hurt." while Kieran dramatically clutched his chest. I stifled a giggle. They were so dramatic. I knew they were just teasing, but I also knew I owed them big time. I'd have to make it up to them somehow. Maybe with extra-large milkshakes. Or by finally agreeing to listen to their music – for at least five minutes. Maybe.

🐚

I arrived at the skate park and immediately spotted Rafayel. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened, and a wide grin spread across his face. He rushed over and gave me a quick, light hug, which earned him twin daggers from Luke and Kieran, who were lurking nearby. “Not too close there, Eggplant,” Luke warned, his voice laced with mock menace. Rafayel pulled away, a slightly bewildered expression on his face at the new nickname.

“We’re going to that shop,” Kieran said, pointing to a store across the street. “Call us if you need anything.” With one last warning glare at Rafayel, they both walked off, leaving us alone.

Rafayel led me to a nearby bench and insisted I sit down. Then, to my surprise, he started helping me put on my protective gear. My heart did a little flutter at his attentiveness. “It’s okay, I can do it,” I said, reaching for the helmet.

“Nuh-uh,” he playfully countered, gently taking the helmet from my hands. “Gotta make sure this princess is safe.” He carefully placed it on my head, adjusting the straps. “Pink suits you,” he added with a wink, giving my cheek a light pinch. I couldn’t help but smile.

I stood up, placing one foot on the skateboard and giving it a tentative push. I immediately started wobbling precariously, and Rafayel quickly steadied me, preventing a potentially embarrassing fall.

The next few hours were… chaotic, to say the least. My screams and shouts echoed through the skate park as I attempted to master the art of skateboarding. My body was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. Rafayel was a patient and encouraging teacher, though, and despite the near-constant threat of face-planting, I actually had fun.

After our skating session, I told my brothers I was going to Rafayel’s house. This did not go over well.

“You can rest at our house,” Kieran protested, his arms crossed stubbornly. “No need to go to another man’s house.” He was clearly not thrilled with the idea.

“I’m sixteen, not six,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“Sixteen, not eighteen,” Luke countered, placing his hands on his hips and adopting a stern, grandmotherly stance. He looked remarkably like a grumpy Grandma Josephine. “And even if you were eighteen, it’s still a no.”

I sighed in defeat. Arguing with them was like talking to a brick wall. Then, a brilliant idea struck me. “Guys,” I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially, “do you remember that old gun Dad got from that auction? The–”

Their eyes widened. They knew exactly what I was talking about. It was a prized possession of Dad's, and they’d both been strictly forbidden from even touching it.

“Fine, go,” Kieran blurted out, quickly changing his tune. But then he whirled around, pointing a warning finger at Rafayel, who was standing a few feet away, looking rather bewildered by the sudden shift in the conversation. Kieran then proceeded to make exaggerated punching motions towards Rafayel, mouthing the words “no touching.” Rafayel just stared back, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Okay, bye! Love you guys!” I called out, quickly grabbing my bag and hurrying over to Rafayel, before my brothers could change their minds. I could practically feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I walked away. This whole thing was getting complicated, but a small part of me enjoyed the thrill of keeping it a secret.

🐚

Rafayel opened his apartment door, and I stepped inside, immediately taking off my shoes and placing them by the shoe rack. “Make yourself at home,” he said, doing the same with his shoes. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“I’m good with anything,” I replied with a smile.

“Great. Turn on the TV and watch whatever you like. I’ll be with you in a bit,” he said, disappearing into his bedroom to change. I took off my jacket and settled onto the comfortable-looking couch, flipping through the channels to find something interesting. Rafayel returned a few minutes later, now wearing comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt, and holding another one of his shirts in his hand. “Do you want to change?” he asked, holding it out to me. “Your clothes might be a bit uncomfortable. This is the smallest shirt I have.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at the thought of wearing his clothes. “Oh, is it okay?” I asked, feeling a little hesitant.

He quickly avoided my gaze, his own cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he mumbled. “You can change in the bathroom if you like. There’s a mirror in there.” He then turned and headed into the kitchen, the sound of clanging pots and pans soon following.

I went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I slipped off my own top and pulled on Rafayel’s. It was definitely oversized, swallowing me in its soft fabric. I inhaled deeply, catching a faint scent of his cologne. Another blush crept up my neck. I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror before heading back to the living room.

Rafayel was just finishing up in the kitchen when I returned. He turned as I sat back down on the sofa, handing me a steaming bowl of noodles. “Looks good on you,” he said, still avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks warm again.

We settled into a comfortable silence, eating our noodles and watching the movie. The next few hours were filled with laughter and easy conversation. I noticed Rafayel subtly scooting closer to me on the couch, or pretending to be startled by a jump scare in the movie, which inevitably resulted in him clinging to my arm. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. Before I knew it, we were practically nestled in each other’s arms, neither of us wanting to break the comfortable contact. Gosh, what is happening to me? I thought, my heart fluttering.

“McKenzie,” Rafayel said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” I chuckled, nudging him playfully.

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I… uh… what are we?” he asked, finally meeting my gaze.

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t been expecting him to ask that so soon. “What do you want us to be?” I responded, leaning a little closer to him.

He looked away, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I don’t want to be just friends,” he mumbled. “I us want to be… lovers. If that’s okay with you.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. I leaned in and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. “Yes,” I whispered.

I turned back to the movie, trying to act casual, but I could feel his surprised gaze on me.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief.

I just shrugged, hiding half of my face in the pillows, a wide grin plastered on my face.

“Hey!” he protested, gently poking my arm. “You can’t just say yes and then say nothing after!”

“You heard me. I’m not repeating myself,” I mumbled, burying my face further into the pillows, trying to hide the goofy grin that was plastered across my face.

Rafayel, however, seemed to take my muffled “yes” as a full-blown declaration of love worthy of a public celebration. He let out a whoop of joy, jumping up and down on the spot, making the couch cushions bounce. I couldn’t help but laugh at his childish enthusiasm. It was infectious.

Then, before I could even process what was happening, he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me into the air and spinning me around. “Rafayel! Put me down!” I yelled, half-laughing, half-panicked, playfully punching him on the back. But he just ignored my protests, continuing to spin me around the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, his voice full of glee. “Not when my girlfriend just said yes.” He finally set me back down on the couch, but he didn’t let go, keeping his arms wrapped around me.

“You’re being childish, Raf,” I said, still slightly breathless from the unexpected spin.

“You make me go childish, Mc,” he retorted, his voice softening as he looked deeply into my eyes.

I looked up at him, the dim light from the TV hiding the blush that was creeping up my face. The air between us crackled with a sudden intensity. I slowly leaned in, and he met me halfway, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened into something more passionate. It felt… magical. Like every cheesy romance movie I’d ever watched had suddenly come to life.

This kiss was the polar opposite of the elaborate scenarios I’d conjured up in my childhood daydreams. Back then, my ideal first kiss involved a picturesque setting: a moonlit lake, perhaps, or a field of wildflowers, with my Prince Charming serenading me with a lute (don’t judge, I was a kid). We’d gaze into each other’s eyes, the air thick with unspoken longing, before finally sharing a tender, movie-worthy kiss.

But this? This was happening in Rafayel’s slightly messy, definitely not-moonlit apartment, amidst the lingering scent of instant noodles and the flickering light of the TV. Not exactly the stuff of fairy tales. And yet… it was perfect. The unexpectedness of it, the raw emotion, the undeniable connection I felt with Rafayel – it was all so much more real and exciting than any fantasy I’d ever imagined.

A small part of me did feel a twinge of disappointment. This wasn’t the grand, romantic gesture I’d always envisioned. There were no violins playing in the background, no gentle breeze rustling through willow trees. But then I looked at Rafayel, his eyes still shining with the afterglow of the kiss, and that small twinge of disappointment vanished. This was us. This was our moment. And it was perfect in its own imperfect way.

Besides, I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who had initiated the kiss. I was the one who had leaned in, breaking the comfortable tension between us. So, while my inner child might have been slightly disappointed by the lack of a lakeside setting and a lute-playing prince, my present self was definitely not complaining. This kiss, this moment, this him… it was all surprisingly, wonderfully real. And I wouldn't trade it for all the moonlit lakes in the world.

Rafayel seemed just as caught up in the moment. He responded to the kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms tightly around me. I instinctively put my arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. The sounds from the movie faded into the background, the only sound that mattered being the soft sound of our breathing.

After a few blissful minutes, we reluctantly pulled away, both of us slightly breathless. We sat back on the couch, still nestled close together, our arms wrapped around each other.

“I was saving that for our first date, you know,” Rafayel said, a playful pout on his lips as he pulled me closer.

“Sorry,” I giggled, nudging him playfully. “You just looked so breathtaking earlier.” I paused, then a wave of curiosity washed over me. “You’re a good kisser… did you date or kiss any other girls before me?”

“Hey, hey, we just started dating, and you’re already at the jealous stage?” he teased, pulling away slightly to look at me.

“I’m just curious,” I protested, poking him in the chest. “So, did you or did you not?”

“No,” he said, his smile softening. “You’re the first one.” He pulled me back into a hug, nuzzling his face into my hair.

Just then, my phone dinged, breaking the cozy atmosphere. I glanced down and saw a message from Dad.

‘Sweetie, don’t you think you’re both going too fast?’

My heart dropped into my stomach. I frantically scanned the room, my eyes searching for any hidden cameras. Then, I saw it. Perched on a tree branch just outside the window, illuminated by the streetlight, was Mephisto, Dad’s ridiculously high-tech mechanical crow. Its tiny red eyes glowed menacingly.

Fuck. I was so dead.

Check out my other Rafayel Ongoing series Here!

27 notes · View notes

cookiekat-blogz · 8 months ago

Text

Togaraka/Togachaco art II⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

we back with another chat, happy gay month to the fruits

05/28/24-06/03/24

felt a lil silly so I drew the sillies <333 the reference was from Pinterest and this totally didn’t take a week to finish or anything…

sorry the paper was crumpled chat 😔

next post: Buddy art 🔥🔥

83 notes · View notes

mariailoveyou-guerin · 1 month ago

Text

they are off their meds again meaning misogynior is in full force for the yt mlm yaoi fethis community like im so tired when can they stop existing so we and woman especially blackwoman can be free from them for good

and watch the losers jump on me like I will care and start probing my point by being racist an misogynistic

#jayvik #byler #buddie #newtmas #stucky #merthur #johnlock #they way it’s always yt men who jsut breathe next to each other and they push it 😂 for it to never be canon deserved loses like free woman #from yall misogynistic self hatred bc yall wanna fethis mlm ships of men who are literally brothers and they say it again and again 😂#there’s probably million more but these are the worst kind there is bc what in the actual fuck #would’ve included destiel but when I left the fandom it wasn’t that mad and I didn’t see the woman hate as much + saw alot racism against #Dean black girlfriend or girls he was dating hit that was before the ship even started so I wont be counting it even tho thats stil fcvk up #There’s a reason they always stay fanon because yall losers never get when it’s just brotherly love between two men and when it’s more once #y’all learn that yall will see and get and won’t constantly need to cry about brothers not fcvkin or hatin on woman bein racist misogynisti #Bylers are next level bc how are they hating on literally child? I thought buddie was biggest losers and they still are with stucky merthur #destiel #now jayvik have joined proving that they too are biggest losers! as for newtmas jonhlock yall weren’t losers like those shippers be gratefu #as for the female version of this where it’s just hating black or poc person they think are in the way of their ship here comes the only 2 #ships to do it that I can think of or know bc I don’t be following them type ships like that since u always get my endgame anyway so who ga #hizzie #hosie #klance

16 notes · View notes

fairy-angel222 · 9 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER

✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s

✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.

Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.

It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.

When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.

You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.

It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.

You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.

The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.

You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.

It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.

It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.

They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.

—

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”

Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.

Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.

“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”

“Mhm, need you.”

He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.

“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.

His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”

You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”

He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.

“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.

“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.

“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.

Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”

You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.

The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.

“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.

“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”

Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.

“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”

“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”

You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.

“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”

Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.

“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.

His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.

He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”

Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”

You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”

“M’kay, love you Sugu.”

“I love you more sweetheart.”

—

It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.

That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.

You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru

8K notes · View notes

that-sarcastic-writer · 6 months ago

Text

A Touch of Madness

Logan Howlett X girlfriend!reader

Summary: Logan comes to you after being away, and all he wants is your touch, and he knows just how to get on your good side. This is just porn without plot.

Takes place in the same universe as Too Sweet but can be read as standalone

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, couch sex, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, the claws make an appearance (I have a thing for his claws okay), Logan is obsessed with his girl, fluffy relationship, established relationship

WC: 3.9k

A/N: how did I make this longer than too sweet when it was supposed to be a Drabble. Hello idk how to write short shit. But like hello yall are so awesome? I appreciate all the love yall have given my first Logan fic. I also have an older Logan fic in the works but that one has plot so it’ll be a minute before its out. For now here this <3

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were driving him mad. It’s not like he deserved your anger. Not fully anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was gone this long. He had been thinking about you all week, about your soft lips, about the warmth of your thighs, about your sweet moans only for his ears to hear. And all he wanted was to pull you into his arms and take you, over and over, until you begged him to stop.

But no.

You were being childish. That’s what he called it anyway.

“Sweet girl,” he called after you, like a puppy following close behind you as you strided around your apartment. He knew you were doing it on purpose, the excuse of having to do chores so you could elongate his torture. The way you so innocently looked back at him made him clench his jaw. “C’mon.”

“Don’t sweet girl me, Logan. I told you, I’m busy.” You sassed him, huffing as you kept walking, finding the most insignificant of chores to waste your time with. He rolled his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed into this perpetual gaze of annoyance.

The truth was, you were aching for him, your thighs warm and your skin tingling solely at the thought of him taking you to do as he pleased. But, if there was something in this world you could be, it was petty. And if you had to suffer a whole week without him, he could suffer for an hour, even if it was also at your expense. Truly, you almost enjoyed the annoyance in his face, the sharpness in his voice, him damn near groaning behind you every time you evaded him under the excuse of needing to get some dumb chore done.

“You’re killin’ me here, sugar.” He actually groaned this time, his jaw set. You stopped in your tracks and turned your head to look at him, shooting him a pointed look. “I said I was sorry.”

“Serves you right. And I don’t care if you’re sorry. You haven’t called me in a week.” Your words were sharp with bitterness and it dawned on him. That was why you were upset. A slight bit of humor tugged at the corner of his lips and he breathed out a laugh. You stared at him with blank eyes, you weren’t laughing.

“C’mon, is that seriously why you’re upset? You know I was out of the state.” He tried to reason with you. Charles had entrusted him and Storm with finding a certain mutant that was causing havoc, three states over. And Logan had very much underestimated how long this would take them. So here he was, after a whole week away, damn near begging you to let him touch you. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go anyway.”

No, he would much rather be with his sweet girl, one that was being particularly difficult and making him suffer when all he wanted to do was hold you, to feel the warmth of your soft skin.

He stepped into your personal space, his intoxicating scent almost making you give in. You counted to five in your head, eyes closed to remind yourself that you were, indeed, angry at him.

“So? You got a phone, don’t you? You could’ve called me.” You huffed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout, Logan had to hold back the urge to laugh at you. “You can’t disappear for a week and expect to come here and do as you please.”

You shot him a sharp glare, he just stared at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden shot of confidence. His sweet girl was talking back to him? Giving him attitude? He tilted his head at you, almost as if to dare you to walk away from him.

There was a bit of malice in your eyes as you gave him one last look before you walked away, thinking of what other useless chore you could add to continue his torture. But Logan had other thoughts in his head. If you weren’t going to behave, he would happily put you in your place.

“Hey, c’mere or I’m gonna bring you here myself.” He called after you, the strings of his sanity hanging on by a thread, just waiting for you to tug at the last strand. He knew you too well. You turned your head, eyes big in feign innocence and you tilted your head at him in defiance.

“Make me then.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. In hindsight you should have known better, but you also wanted to see just what could happen if you pushed him hard enough. You saw the way his eyes flashed with malice, he stared you down, and in that moment you remembered just how small you were compared to him. “Oh fuck.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through you, but it wasn’t like you could go outrun him, especially not in your tiny apartment. He caught you, though he did purposely chase you into your living room, simply because he wanted to get you going, pumped with adrenaline. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you against his chest. His sharp canines nipped at that one spot on your neck that had you whimpering.

“You goin’ somewhere, sugar?” He husked, his lips hot on your cheek. You couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, eyes closed. God, you missed him.

“Mhm, still mad at you.” You mumbled, barely hanging on to your silly grudge. A chuckle rumbled in Logan’s chest.

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to be happy with me to do what I want to do.” He inhaled, breathing your sweet scent, and he spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “Just need you to look pretty while I do it.”

You weren’t complaining about your position, you were in fact, bursting into giggles as he effortlessly carried you to the couch, though your giggles turned into another squeal when he smacked his hand flat against your ass. Logan had a grin on his lips as he tossed you on the couch, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart to settle between them.

He leaned down, gripping the armrest above your head, caging you in as he leaned down. He brushed his nose against yours, sighing softly.

“Don’t be such a brat. Kiss me.” The words rumbled in his chest with a groan, his primal needs overcoming his senses. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling into a hard and heated kiss.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as he shrugged off his flannel, tossing it somewhere on the floor, his belt soon following the same fate. You tried to sit up against the armrest, but you quickly realized Logan had other plans deep in his perverted mind. With a hold of your ankle he dragged you down on the couch, your back flat on the surface as you looked up at him with big eyes.

“Stay just like that, pretty.” He spoke, pressing another heated kiss to your mouth before tugging off your sweatpants, followed by your panties. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, somewhere you would have to run around searching for later. But you couldn’t give a fuck about that. All you could focus on was the heat forming between your legs as Logan settled between them.

His eyes met with yours one last time before he was diving in between your warm thighs. His tongue licked long stripes from your hole up to your clit, circling around the sensitive nerve before going back down. Over and over until your soft gasps and sighs of pleasure turned into moans. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open to do as he pleased. One leg hung over the back of the couch and the other was thrown over his shoulder, and he effortlessly held you down as he shoved his tongue into your cunt. He was like an animal, insatiable as he took you on his tongue.

“Oh fuck. Shit—Logan—” Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as you whined. You gripped the back of the couch, soft twitches taking over you each time his nose brushed your clit.

It was no secret that Logan found pleasure in giving you yours, and he ate you like it. Grunts and hums rumbled in his chest as his tongue found your clit again, and he reveled in the particularly high pitched cry you let out when he slipped two fingers into your wet core.

“Needed to taste you so fuckin’ bad. I thought about it all week.” He spat into your clit, groaning at the way your tight walls squeezed his fingers. He could only imagine what you would do when it was his cock stretching your walls.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, fingers lacing in his hair as he lapped at your clit. You wished you could hold your pleasure, rivet in it for just a little bit longer, but the way he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot, the way his tongue was so relentless on your swollen clit, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my—”

Your words never left your throat, chest pounding with sheer adrenaline as your release coated his face and fingers. It was sudden, it left you breathless as your thighs twitched with aftershock. Your eyes were wide and glossy in shock as you shuddered with the remnants of your orgasm. It wasn’t until you pathetically attempted to drag yourself away that Logan stopped. You were shaking, gasping softly when he pulled his fingers from you, but you all but cried when he licked at your wet pussy, getting a taste of you.

“Logan, please I can’t—” Your voice was shaky as you tried to move away from his face, he chuckled at you, pressing his face against your inner thigh before he crawled up to your face.

“‘Is okay. You did good.” He kissed your lips, his large hands holding your face as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned, clenching around nothing already in anticipation of him filling you. “You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no! Need you, please!” You were quick to protest, wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere. You couldn’t really stop him from doing anything, but he found it endearing that you tried. He bumped his nose against yours, lips pulled up into a tiny smile.

“Need me where, hm?” He opened his eyes to look at you, and truly how he didn’t bend you over the nearest flat surface the second he saw you was beyond his comprehension. You looked so perfect like this, underneath him, clinging to him. His sweet girl. He didn’t know what it was about you, but from the moment he met you he was done for. You drove him absolutely mad and now he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Inside me, Logan. Please.” You sighed out, face flushed with embarrassment. He smoothed out the frown lines on your forehead with a tiny kiss. A sweet gesture in comparison to what he was about to do to you.

In one swift motion he had you bent over the armrest, with your ass to him and your chest flat against the armrest. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he pulled off his white tank top. Your glazed eyes fawned over each perfect muscle in his body, taking particular interest in the veins that popped in his arm when he flexed them as he ridded himself of his jeans. How you ended up with a man so incredibly hot, you had no idea, but you were thanking the Gods for that.

“I need to be inside you, too.” He rasped into your ear, groaning in ecstasy as he sank himself into your needy cunt. Your jaw fell open he filled you, inch by inch. He pulled your t-shirt over your head, instantly attaching his lips to your shoulder as he rutted his hips against your ass.

His pace was grueling from the start, grip tight on your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. A little reminder of his intoxicating presence. You braced yourself on the armrest, sounds of pleasure leaving your lips almost instantly. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, the thick hairs on his chest leaving a tingling sensation across your back as he held you flush against his chest. Heavy breaths filled your ears as you so desperately reached to touch him, any of him. Your trembling fingers found the sound of his face and he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“This what you needed, hm? Maybe I should fuck sweet pussy more often? Give it more attention?” He grunted the words in your ears, lips pressed against your cheek as a sheen layer of sweat began to coat your soft skin. You whimpered and nodded weakly, your cunt clenching him with excitement. He smirked softly, his hand coming up to lace through your hair. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet girl?”

Logan held your face down as his hips drilled into you, each delicious drag of his cock bringing you closer and closer to your sweet release. God, you needed it. All you could do was moan in response.

“Y-yes! God, yes. Please Logan.” You whined out shamelessly, eyes rolled back into your head. Logan hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple, the gentle gesture ironic considering just what he was doing to you. He said nothing as he sneaked his free hand to the front of your body, rough fingers rubbing harsh circles on your sensitive clit. Your jaw fell open, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Your thighs clenched around his hand, whining as his cock brushed that one spot that had you seeing white. “Logan—”

Your voice was a warning, but he welcomed it. He flicked his wrist without mercy as he rolled his hips, his words only encouraging you to fall apart for him.

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do that, can’t you? I know you want to.” He let go of your hair to turn your head to meet his eager lips. He happily swallowed the pathetic sounds that left your mouth as he flicked at your clit, his cock hitting so impossibly deep you were left trembling as your release seeped around him.

Logan held you down on his cock, his thumb playing with your clit until you were gasping and your nails dug into the skin of his wrist. He kissed along your jaw as his hips stilled for just a second, your body still shaking underneath him.

“You okay?” He asked softly, grabbing your face to look at him. You looked at him with hooded eyes and nodded weakly, barely lifting yourself off the couch.

“Yeah. ‘m okay.”

Logan tilted his head at you, an eyebrow raised with amusement as he leaned down to leave a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling out his cock to manhandle you onto your back before he was sinking himself into you again. Your slick walls welcomed him perfectly, like this was the only place he belonged, but he wasn’t complaining. If he could die, he would die happily buried deep in your cunt.

“Oh, God, Logan.” You gasped, thighs twitching as you looked down to find where his thick cock is filling you, splitting you open over and over. Your jaw fell open as you watched him grab one of your ankles and he held it up by his shoulder, spreading you open for him to dig himself deeper and deeper within you tight walls.

“Look at me, baby.” He groaned, chest heavy as a thin layer of sweat covered his muscled body. You did your best to comply, you looked up, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure as he damn near folded your body in half. Your knees were pressed against your chest as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, there she is. My pretty girl. I missed you.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, and also at the sting of his cock rapidly bringing you to your third release. The way he brought your legs to his shoulders, he sunk himself so deep within your walls you swore you felt him in your stomach. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

“Missed you too, Logan.” You brought your lips up to his, eyebrows furrowed into an expression of pure arousal as you gripped his hair, clinging to him for dear life.

Your release was quick and sudden, hitting you without a warning the second Logan pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You were just so sensitive, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed. You clutched on to his large bicep as you spilled around his cock. The way your tight walls squeeze him made him groan, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on chasing his own release while fucking you through your own.

“Look at you, you’re just so good for me. Fuck it, I’ll just take you with me next time.” Groans fell freely from his soft lips as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and the other held the armrest above your head. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as your sweet praises and chants of his name filled his ears.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was animalistic, a deep growl as he coated your insides with his hot release. The metallic sound of sharp claws filled your ears once more as his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles, one on the back of the couch and the other just above your head, again. You gasped his name with a soft laugh, though you would be lying if you said it didn’t drive you feral when his claws accidentally came out. You brought a hand to his face as he pulled his claws out of your couch, the sharp metal once again hiding themselves within his knuckles with a sound. He held himself up on his forearm as his head fell to your neck.

“I’ll pay for it.” He muttered a chuckle into your neck, leaving a soft kiss to your jaw. You laughed, draping a hand over your forehead, breathing in deeply as you felt your mixed releases seep around his cock and drip onto the couch. He should just buy you a new couch, he thought.

“Wanna buy me a new body while you’re at it?” You teased him, already sensing you would have bruises and your thighs would ache for days.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice as he lifted his head to scan your face for any discomfort as his hand came up to graze the thigh draped over his waist. You scrunched up your nose at him and shook your head.

“Of course not hun. Don’t be silly.” You traced your fingers over his face and gave him a lopsided smile.

“I did miss you, for the record.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too Logan.”

“Lemme clean you up sugar.” He sneaked a kiss to your cheek as he untangled himself from you, much to your protest.

You whined at the emptiness he left you as he stood up. Though you did quite enjoy the sight of his perfect ass he walked off to find something to clean his mess with. When he came back, he had a small towel and he cleaned you without protest, he left warm kisses on your face as you talked to him about your day. He ultimately tossed the towel aside and slipped on his boxers, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his still hard cock, but you needed a break. You didn’t let him leave though, reaching to grab his wrist with soft eyes

“Wanna watch a movie? I miss watching movies with you.” You mumbled, voice soft as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He laughed softly at you, you made it sound like you hadn’t seen him in a month.

But, how could he ever say no to his sweet girl?

“Mhm, put on somethin’ .” He gently moved you so that he was lying behind you on the couch, his big arms wrapped around you as he held you against his chest. Though you were still completely naked, you paid no mind to it. It actually felt kinda nice to be so close to him and feel the warmth of his body in such an intimate way.

He covered you both with the throw blanket you always kept over the couch for days exactly like this, for those days you wanted to feel warm and close with him on the couch. He ignored the three holes where stuffing was coming out of the ripped fabric as he pulled the soft blanket up to your chest and as you happily settled in his arms, clicking away at the TV. He would buy you a new couch, just as he bought you new pillows, and new blankets. And anything you asked him to, really.

Logan wasn’t used to domestic, the soft touches, cuddling, but he liked doing it with you. He craved it actually, probably just as much as he craved the sex.

“Next time you’re away that long, just give me a call? Please? So that I’m not worried sick thinking you died.” You finally said, the whole reason for such intense feelings merely an hour ago finally surfacing. He laughed softly at how ridiculous you sounded. He technically can’t die, he thought.

“I wouldn’t.. I can’t…Y’know what? You’re right. I’m still getting used to this whole having a girl thing. But I'll do better, yeah? Don’t need you to be mad, sugar.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, settling his face on your neck as he attempted to pay attention to whatever horror movie you decided to watch today. “But if you’re gonna let me fuck you like that when you’re mad, get mad more often.”

“Logan.” You scolded him, nudging his ribs softly as a warm blush coated your cheeks, knowing you wouldn’t hurt him, but it still made him chuckle.

He had to admit, he lasted way longer than he did last time. He lasted almost halfway through the movie before the feeling of his cock sitting hot and heavy in his boxers became apparent to him again. He inhaled your scent softly, his lips ghosting over your neck as he rolled his hips softly against your ass. And while you did try to protest, whining that you wanted to get through one movie with him, the sting of his cock was better than any movie in this world. The credits rolled, the soundtrack now drowned out by the sound of your sweet moans. Logan would be damned if he let you leave the warmth of his body for even just one second tonight. Or maybe ever.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #Logan Howlett smut #the Wolverine #Wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #Logan Howlett #Wolverine

4K notes · View notes