#If a relationship was not mentioned or not as you expected you are free to believe whatever you like

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[i2sunric]

HAPPY VALENTINE’S, BABY (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you decide to get your nails done for valentine’s day, fully expecting they’d be wrapped around heeseung by the time you got home.

WARNING: smut, blow job, established relationship, mentions of creampie and sex, hand job, dirty talking, pet names (baby), meandom!heeseung, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

WC: 1.1k

PUBLISHED: February 4th 2025

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @who-tf-soddhi @enhamonsterghoul

a/n: well, sorry for disappearing, but i’m into writing again nowadays and might publish small drafts i was able to finish! let me know if you liked it, and please REBLOG & SHARE!

You'd spent the afternoon in the nail salon, finding just the right shade of red-deep, sultry, the color of wine and desire. The little black "H" painted onto the ring finger of your left hand was inconspicuous, but meant the world. A little mark of him, a reminder that no matter what, you were his.

Heeseung was already home when you arrived, sprawled across the couch and scrolling through his phone. At first, he barely looked up, greeting you with a soft, lazy, "Hey, baby."

But then you moved closer, holding out your hands for him to see, “Got my nails done for Valentine's," you said matter-of-factly, watching as his expression changes.

His eyes landed on your fingers, his brow arched a little as he took in the color, the ribbons you had attached, then— his initial.

The phone fell onto his lap as he reached out and tugged you closer into him. The pad of his thumb brushed over the small "H," and his jaw slightly clenched.

"You did this for me?" His voice was lower now, the playful tone replaced with something darker, something more possessive that never failed to make heat pool at your stomach.

You smiled, all fake oblivious "Of course. Who else would it be for?"

Heeseung’s lips curled into a smirk, but his grip on your wrist tightened. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and full of intent. "You know what I’m thinking, right?"

You did. Oh, you did.

He pulled you onto his lap, guiding your newly manicured fingers to brush against the bulge in his sweats. Even through the fabric, you could feel how hard he was getting just from the thought alone.

"Fuck," he muttered, his head tipping back for a moment before snapping back to you. "You knew what you were doing getting these, didn't you?"

You tipped your head, innocently . "What do you mean?"

Heeseung let out a low, amused chuckle, but there was nothing light in the way he reached out, grasping at your chin and making you face him.

"You wanted me to see these and think about them wrapped around my cock, mh?" His thumb traced your lower lip, pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Wanted me to lose my mind over you?" He then pressed in between your lips, making you suck on it.

Your stomach had contracted at his words, the heat pooling between your legs. You loved how he was like this— when teasing turned to something more, more intense and overwhelming.

"You're staring really hard, Hee," you whispered, letting your fingers trace up his chest, your touch light and teasing. "You wanna test them out?"

He exhaled sharply through his nostrils, the hold on your waist tightening as he shifted beneath you. "Get on your knees, baby."

The order ran a shiver down your spine, but you listened, falling off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.

He leaned back, hips rising enough to tug his sweats down and free his cock. Already hard, the tip glistened with precum, and the sight alone had your mouth watering.

"Show me what those pretty nails can do," he murmured, voice thick with desire. You wrapped your fingers around him, moving slow at first, letting him feel the cool polish against his hot skin. His breath hitched and his jaw clenched as he watched your every move.

"Fuck, that's so hot," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. "You have no idea how much I love this, baby."

You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his tip before flicking your tongue against it, savoring the way his grip tightened, his thighs tensing beneath you.

"Happy Valentine's, Heeseung," you whispered before taking him into your mouth, giving him exactly what he wanted.

The groan that tore from Heeseung's throat was guttural, deep, like he'd been waiting for it all day. His hand in your hair fisted tighter, but he didn't push, didn't hurry you. He wanted to enjoy it.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, voice already breathless as you took more of him in, your freshly manicured fingers stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. The cool gloss of the polish against his heated skin had him twitching in your grasp, his thighs tensing beneath you. "I’m gonna ruin you.”

You hummed around him, making him curse under his breath. His head tipped back against the couch as his chest rose and fell unsteadily with your movements in slow, measured tempo, allowing your tongue to swirl around the tip before sinking back down.

His free hand was clutched on the edge of the couch, his knuckles white. "God, you're so good at this," he groaned, looking down at you with dark, hooded eyes. "Look at you— fuck, you love this, don't you?

You met his gaze, your eyes wide and innocent as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His grip on your hair tightened; his hips jerked up just slightly, just enough to make you gag. But you didn't pull away.

The wet sounds filling the room were sinful, your hands moving in sync with your mouth, twisting around his length with practiced ease. Heeseung was falling apart beneath you, his breathing ragged, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking.

“Shit, baby,” he panted, his head tipping back for a second before he forced his gaze to go back to you, dark with something almost feral. “You’re gonna make me come so fucking fast.”

You smirked around him, moving faster, your nails gliding against his sensitive skin in just the right way. His hips stuttered, his body going tense as he let out a strangled groan.

Then, he pulled you off him as his hand tugged at your chin, making you look up.

"Not yet," he huffed out huskily; his thumb made a swipe of your swollen lips. "I wanna come inside you.

You barely had time to react before he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands grasping your waist, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

“Ah, you're in for it now, baby,” he whispered against your lips, hands sliding under your dress. “Gonna fuck you so good you'll be needing a whole new set of nails by tomorrow..”

And from the way he manhandled you onto the couch, you knew he meant every word.

[tarotmundomonde]

Love coming towards you right now (for singles)

pick a number 1-5 OR an emoji: 💘 😈 💦 🤠 🩶

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.💘 First of all, this connection is very special. This is true compatibility and love. If there is already someone you are seeing and things have been rough, your relationship will improve, things will be made right, accountability taken. The outcome is happy ending, happy times. Now if you are completely single / stuff going on in love, it shall pass. Things will improve, your energy is healing. You have a new path opening in love and it's time to have faith. It might feel like you are asked to trust in the mysticism of life, but do have faith. It's time to turn the leaf and leave the past behind. Be grateful for all you've learned so far and it's time now to enjoy this new true bond, true love. This person is truly compatible with you, you are a match made in heaven.

2.😈 This one is tough. Although the reading is about right now, the cards are saying this will be the situation you are dealing with for the next few weeks, so around 3 weeks. The main message for this pile is they are the problem, not you. It looks like there is someone, who doesn't want to offer you anything. They don't want to commit. It looks a lot like breadcrumbing. It's like they are here and might do something random, but it's only to keep you in the hook. They watch you, but looking at the cards, the cards say that they are around, they actually check on you on social media. But they don't say anything, they don't directly communicate with you. It's almost like a joke. What they bring to you is lies and thiefs. They bring you drama. It's like they don't want you to focus on yourself, to find balance, to heal, to be empowered. They don't want you to see, how you shine. It's very selfish energy coming from this person. They don't want to give you anything, but they want you to want them and to be ready to do anything to have them. It's like they are saying "come catch me, if you can", lol. They expect action from you. More volumes. You pushing harder and trying harder. I do see competition here, they are definitely putting you into competition, third-parties. The cards are reminding you that if someone is really into you and there are challenges, they would work on bringing balance back into the relationship. But in this case, they expect you to do that on your own and it doesn't work like that. They should be supporting you and your connection. So pay attention to everything that will happen during the next 3 weeks, to all the actions taken. It seems it's instead rather a potent time for you to choose yourself and focus on yourself and on personal balance. And one more time, remember this: you are not the problem; they are the problem.

3.💦 This one is complicated. You could be dealing with rejection. It looks like someone is unable to open up, they still are in a victim mentality of some kind. It looks like someone is stuck on their ex and haven't let go of resentment. The cards are saying "don't stop". This person could definitely be stuck on their ex, maybe even going back to them, unless they are already back together. In this situation, there is nothing you can do about it, it's not in your hands. If despite of everything mentioned above, they do somehow pursue you and want to stay in touch with you, it looks like it's out of fear that you'll free yourself from this situation and find someone new. It seems they are trying to keep you isolated from potential new love.

4.🤠 This is definitely friends with benefits -situation. That's all they want. This person or people seem to have a certain image of you. Since this is not a personal reading, it will depend on who you are. But they have a certain image of you that makes them think they can manipulate you, makes them think they can make you have a friends with benefits situation with them. This is someone, who is like a storyteller. They know the right things and right words to say to draw you in. But they will not deliver. It's only to make you give to them. They will use their skills to make you compromise, to make you give up on love. This person will use their personal power on you, their strengths to lure you in. They only want sxx with you, to use you. That's all. But be careful, the cards are making it very clear that if you let them win, you will not be happy and you will feel intensively displeased and disappointed (the sxx will be bad).

5.🩶 For this pile, it doesn't look like anyone specific is coming towards you in love. Maybe you don't even have a love interest. But even if you do, whoever would be coming through, they are very much living in their own world. Looking at the cards, if you'd have anything offered to you at this time, it would be friends with benefits or a one time fling at best. It's just this person already has their plates and tables full. They are focused on themselves, they already have their commitments, busy lives and they do have options. So this person doesn't feel the need to rush with matters of the heart. Like said already they live in their own world. The cards say to give it time. Don't be too obsessed with them and with the outcome. Just leave it be. Eventually you'll either move on or maybe things will align for you two. But that's something only the divine knows.

[maukree]

So, I did a deep dive into WinterIron circa 616 like (not) a total asshole—because I fully recognize that writing a hyper-specific, canonically obsessive fic about Tony and Bucky in the Marvel 616 comicverse and expecting MCU-only fans to keep up without at least a "the fuck kind of AU is this?" head scratch is a bit of a dick move. And here we are. Comics fucking deliver. I promise. But do you actually need to read them all to get and enjoy what happens in any 616 fic you come across? Nah. Honestly. You don’t have to (unless you want to, in which case, welcome to the abyss) to get through the basics. FYI, this isn’t an all-encompassing timeline of Tony and Bucky in comic books—because I don’t have a year, and you don’t have all day. Their individual stories don’t start with Civil War (which, by the way, actually deserves to be called a 'war' in 616) or end with Fear Itself. But I’m covering their key arcs—picking and choosing shit as I please that I felt was relevant through my winteriron goggles—from Captain America: Out of Time (Bucky’s baggage) and Invincible Iron Man: Extremis (Tony’s baggage), through the pre-Civil War mess, the war itself, the aftermath, their intersections, and then stopping at Fear Itself—because I respect my own need to occasionally shower or something. Anyhow, if this pops off and everyone suddenly decides to start reading comics… sure. Hit me up for more. But even if that’s not happening, feel free to click that Keep Reading button for Part 1 and appreciate my ability to cram years of comic book history into an image limit. I was even nice enough to find you some links if you want to give it a proper shot and read comic books (oh, and that Marvel Unlimited subscription they have for reading comics fucking slaps, just saying. And no, they are not paying me to say it): *links direct to marvel.com, but don't click there yet, obviously. The Invincible Iron Man (2004–2007) Captain America (2004–2011) Invincible Iron Man (2008–2012) Fear Itself (2010–2011) If you read this part you will know where Tony, Bucky and Steve are just before 616 Civil War properly kicks off.

You clicked! I am so sorry for how long this is. Force-quit the app to escape it at any stage. The images are after each plot arc and I am in love with the endless scroll Tumblr does to accommodate so much visual content. So, the way I look at it, for me it really begins around the Invincible Iron Man: Extremis time, when they kicked off the The Invincible Iron Man (2004–2007) series, so lets get that shit out of the way. Not that it’s shit, but Tony’s definitely not having a good time. (And no, it’s not because Bucky killed his parents—didn’t happen in the comics—nor because he suspected his bestie Steve was about to start a rival gang just to flex at an airport for 4.5 seconds and call it a “war”.) Anyway, the point is: MCU canon ≠ 616 canon. The Marvel 616 comicverse is the gift that keeps on giving to the MCU, which picks and chooses what it likes (the rant is over in 3, 2, 1... since I adore MCU.) So, before Tony ever crosses paths with his (hypothetical, not actually canon there either) man-love Bucky in comic books I've mentioned above, here’s what’s happening with him. Extremis: #1-6 When this starts off, Tony has been out there in the comicverse pretending to be the boss of Iron Man for ages—like, “Oh yeah, I totally just fund this guy/bodyguard and lend him to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers occasionally”. Incidentally, he was actually stuck wearing the Iron Man chest plate to stay alive for a while before that, and has complex relationship with his suit and with his ability to look at himself in the mirror. He is working himself half-dead in his garage to the background of folks hating on Stark for military contracts that he uses to fund other projects. It’s an awesome 6 comic books arc, but the gist is that a shady biohacker named Maya Hansen (Tony’s ex, because of course she is) and her equally shady colleague Aldrich Killian (yes, that guy, but way less Mandarin cosplay this time and he does peace out very quickly) cook up Extremis—a next-gen super-soldier serum for US government, yup. Maya wants to cure cancer or something, but lacks money (hence working for the military for now), the government stops paying for her program and she decides to hit Tony up, lies her ass off, and sets someone on him for show to demonstrate to the powers that be that her biotech is just this good and can take down the most advanced armor in the world (aka, Tony's shit.) Tony gets his ass absolutely handed to him by a poster child for domestic terrorism juiced up on Extremis, since Maya's shit is the bomb. His suit has been getting more and more clunky as he makes it more powerful, he can't react in it fast enough, gets very squashed under a car, breaks himself a lot, has a mid-life crisis, and decides, “Screw it, let’s put that nightmare fuel in me instead so I can chat to my tin can better and really lean into the whole Iron Man thing. Fixing all these bones I am just after breaking and a ton of internal damage wouldn't hurt either.” Maya's down to help, since Tony might've been a good fuck, and she fancies herself to be a good person, so Tony makes some modifications to how Extremis works and it... works. Fixes him right up with the promise of growing new organs should they need to be grown, makes him faster, stronger, able to mentally pilot the suit with a thought, effortlessly connect to tech using his mind and even form his under suit (flight suit) over his body and … officially way too powerful for his own good.

Execute Program: #1-6 Or, as I like to call it, “That one time Tony’s own tech betrayed him and he went, ‘Okay, maybe we do need some rules.’” This starts fresh off Tony’s Extremis glow-up, and he’s doing what he does best: building way too many suits (sooo many kickass suits called argonauts), fighting bad guys, and making Fury and the Avengers increasingly suspicious because he keeps being late to shit. (Sorry, guys, he’s busy being a futurist, obviously, and frankly, he’s kicking almost too much ass.) To be fair, their paranoia is kinda justified, since Tony’s brain is getting hacked by Yinsen’s son (huge angsty point for Tony for not saving him), who is hijacking his entire nervous system using the tech Yinsen originally implanted into Tony for the Taliban—right before waking him up and going, “Hi, you owe me your life.” So, the basic plot of Execute Program is that Tony starts assassinating some high-profile assholes responsible for Yinsen’s death—all without knowing it. For a while he's convinced it's not him and makes a big deal about it with Fury but eventually even he can't deny it, at which point Tony hits existential crisis #872, is very unhappy about being mind-fucked, and ‘paroles’ Maya out of jail by blowing a hole in a wall to see if his former gal-love will help him deal with it. At the end of this arc he manages to break free of the programming and survive, but his suits do a fuck ton of damage in the process, and he's now officially realizing that he’s become a walking, government-grade security risk—just because of how awesome he is. To quote him: “Every superhero is a potential gun (whether they act on their own or not), and last time I checked, guns require registration.” Now, this whole arc is meant to explain why Tony is firmly on the pro-registration side when Civil War rolls into town. It's a stretch, but some other shit leads up to Civil War and the 'need' for registration, but this is sorta where he's mind is at, and this is where we leave him for now before Civil War kicks into gear. P.S. Some multi-ship snacks from 'Execute Program', because 616 contains multitudes: Spidershield: Spider-Man (Avenger-adjacent, menace-certified) casually calls Cap cute during a mission while hovering over him within kissing distance. Starker / IronDad: during the same mission, Tony loses his absolute shit when Peter gets hurt and goes feral. Stony: Look, 616 is basically the Tony & Steve Show—but if you need specifics, there’s always that time at the end of this arc when Tony dramatically knocks himself out by shocking his own heart (thinking it would kill him) to stop Cap from getting obliterated by his own rogue suits. Because, you know. Normal super hero behavior.

Alright, so we’re leaving Tony where he is—on the pro-registration side, deep in his own moral and existential mess (I’ll unpack what the story is with registration more later, in the next part, because hoo boy). But now, let’s talk about Bucky. Because, wow, a lot is going on with Bucky around this time, though it's completely unnecessary to know exactly when this happens, since comic books tend to constantly contradict each other and forget some canon-points exist (on this note, Tony is actually hella tall in comic books, and he's mostly drawn with blue eyes, although sometimes it's brown eyes due to the coloring and Bucky's mostly drawn with very dark eyes, and the blue eyes is really more of a Sebastian Stan thing, for which he love him for. On another unrelated note, Dum Dum Dugan is alive and kicking and working with S.H.I.E.L.D, but it's neither here or there. I digress.) At this stage, Bucky and Tony haven’t officially ‘met’ yet, but Tony is vaguely aware of his existence, mostly as Steve's long-dead-but-actually-not-dead ex-partner/sidekick who has been doing Very Concerning Things in the shadows. And, to be fair, the dude has been busy too. So yeah, while Tony is spiraling about accountability and unchecked power, Bucky's been out there being the literal embodiment of both, working against his will for some VERY bad guys. Since Bucky is all about Steve and his storyline, he initially pop-ups in the Captain America (2004–2011), so let's talk about Steve and his feelings for a bit. Steve... has a lot of feelings by the way, so for all of your Stucky shippers, this is the comic book to read.

Captain America: Out of Time #1-6 Aka “Steve has a lot of feelings™ while occasionally punching things and still finds time for his complicated love life.” So, Out of Time starts off with Steve being… well, Steve. Which means brooding way too hard about war, his place in the world (as Captain America—again—it’s more of a title and a suit in comics, kinda, though he is the OG), and whether punching Nazis in the ’40s was somehow easier than dealing with modern geopolitics. He’s having flashbacks galore—about Bucky, WWII, and the several times he’s watched people he loves die (if you take a shot every time he stares sadly into the distance and remembers shit, you’ll be wasted by page 4). At the beginning of this run, he’s mostly juggling personal life + professional trauma, spending quality time with his ex (*Nick Fury, who he technically broke up with in the ’90s, but we don’t talk about it—Marvel also wishes those issues didn’t exist. Looking at you, Fury #1-4 (1994) and his actual ex-but-still-kind-of-current love interest, Sharon Carter (S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent 13, absolute badass, we love her). Meanwhile, in the Villain Corner, Bucky is currently in deep-freeze, and Red Skull is trying to buy him (for evil purposes, obviously). But Winter Soldier is way too useful to his current owner, who calls him an ‘item’ (it’s all very gutting and transactional), and Red Skull isn’t willing to part with the Cosmic Cube (important-for-plot-reasons, reality-warping bullshit in a box)—not even for the privilege of having a brainwashed supersoldier on his payroll. Which turns out to be a bad call for Red Skull, because Bucky gets defrosted anyway and immediately blows his brains out (Winter Soldier: 1, Red Skull: 0), since his current owner wants the Cosmic Cube, and Bucky is an incredibly efficient, very sexy, and deeply tragic murder machine who follows orders. [Unlike his silent MCU counterpart, 616 Winter Soldier is chatty (ish). He’s brainwashed, yeah, but he talks, makes decisions, occasionally argues over tactics, but you can tell there’s a mind-fuckery hellscape happening behind the scenes. But he is also aware, somewhat, which is the point. Sure, he’s traumatized as hell, but in a very “this is my job, and I do it” way. He has conversations, meaning that once they fix him later, it’s less about split personality and more about remembering who he was. (Which, you know, brings a whole new level of pain to this. Yummy, yummy angst.) Quick sidenote: Bucky is younger than Steve in the comics (an army brat/orphan), and he was basically groomed (yup…) into being Cap’s teenage sidekick—gun, mask, and all—at 16.] So, all of this is happening, with Bucky out and about causing trouble, while Steve is busy having a ton of dreams about him (not the sexy kind, unfortunately—more blood and gore), which turn out to be foreshadowing (shock). Long story short, Bucky kidnaps Sharon (not for relationshippy reasons, let’s be clear), and at the moment Steve gets Sharon back and Bucky seriously considers gunning him down, it finally clicks for Steve—Bucky is alive. Steve makes a face (there you are, the real love of my life—awwww ignore me), Bucky still considers gunning him down, but the confrontation doesn’t actually happen since it’s all about the feels at this stage and the mission to save Bucky.

Captain America: Winter Soldier #1-6 In which Steve goes on a manic quest to find his buddy, Tony is devastated about capitalism, and Bucky has an identity crisis before running off to be broody and sexy somewhere else. This arc is packed. Like, really packed. Coming off the world-shattering realization that Bucky (war buddy, partner-in-justice and emotional crutch)—is alive and well (ish), Steve is a bit shook. He did actually call him “Bucky?” during that initial meet, to which Bucky, of course, replied with the iconic “Who the hell is Bucky?”—delivering both an emotional orgasm for any Stucky shippers and an immediate MCU meme template. And yet—this is the best part for me, lol—despite literally calling him Bucky, Steve proceeds to not actually believe it after it happens. Fury has to wave stacks of receipts in his face for ages (“Here’s a ton of proof that your bestie has been a brainwashed, undying assassin for decades.”) before Steve finally believes, rejoices, gets upset and very conflicted, but then goes absolutely bananas trying to find him. And because Fury is nothing if not dramatic, Steve gets a whole-ass file on Winter Soldier lore conveniently dropped at his place—and let me tell you, this thing is THICK. Pages upon pages of experiments, war crimes, and Bucky being terrifying as the Winter Soldier. It’s delicious, I want it on my wall. At this stage we have the first official Tony & Bucky intersection. Steve and Sam (still called Falcon, professional bird enthusiast, talks to them and everything) need help tracking down the Cosmic Cube, which Bucky currently has. And Tony is an absolute legend who helps them do it. Despite actively running a multi-billion dollar empire, Tony stops everything to help them track down Bucky and the Cube. But—massive conflict of interest incoming—the location they need to attack is a bit of a problem (understatement) because Tony’s company is in trouble if he goes with them. So Tony, looking like he wants to die inside (he really does, see the images), provides Steve and Sam with his jet and all the resources they need but ultimately can’t go. And you can tell he’s real cut up about it. You can. I can. Everyone can. Though at this stage he obviously doesn't know Bucky, but... it's all in the details. Anyhow, because Iron Man team-up isn’t happening for this specific epic quest to save Bucky, Steve and Sam go in alone (Sharon with S.H.I.E.L.D. at their heels and all), find Bucky, and then it’s ON. And when I say on, I mean full-blown, action-packed, ridiculously cool fight scene with Steve throwing hands and heartfelt speeches, and Bucky countering with kicks and emotional repression. Steve desperately tries to break through to Bucky, reminding him who he is, but Bucky is having none of it. (He’s definitely feeling something, though, because he’s looking a little too emotional.) [Here’s the thing: Bucky has surfaced before? The people controlling him even kept records saying not to send him on long-term missions too close to home, because when they did he tried to escape. The memories are still there, buried deep under decades of trauma, brainwashing, and whatever the hell Russian winter does to a man.]

They fight. Fight some more. And Steve pulls the ultimate “If you don’t remember me, kill me” move. At which point Bucky absolutely tries. (And I love myself a consistent man.) During the fight, however, Steve gets his manly hands on the Cosmic Cube, which, being the overpowered reality-warping bullshit box that it is, does what it was written into the comic book to do in the first place: it restores Bucky’s memories. WHOOP. Except… Bucky remembers EVERYTHING. And, uh, that’s a lot. And seems very traumatic and painful. An absolute mental overload, horror, and a whole lot of “I should be dead” vibes. Steve is hopeful, trying to reassure him, but Bucky is noping the fuck out. He's not doing well, immediately spirals into guilt, and decides the best course of action is to disappear. Which he does by fucking off to brood alone. Far away. In a sexy, tortured assassin way. My favorite six issues of Captain America pre-Civil War, hands down. There was some other shit in between Out of Time and Winter Soldier, some bad guy plays and all, some stuff about mutant registration, but I’ll get to that a bit later, in Part 2, as a general thing about what started the Civil War.

Captain America: Twenty-First Century Blitz #1-4 God, where do I even start with this one? Well, I suppose with the important shit. And what’s important is that Bucky is in the wind (sorta), but he and Steve meet up in London and spend a lot of time yelling at each other in terror, there’s a blimp involved, and also, we’re still technically on the WinterIron timeline, I swear. This arc is not my favorite. It’s not bad, but, as mentioned, it’s mostly just Steve and Bucky screaming at each other. (Which, if you ship them, is yummy. If you don’t, it’s a lot of yelling.) Bucky’s former 'owner', the one who sent him to kill Red Skull and get the Cosmic Cube is a bad dude called General Lukin. This guy is still around, and he is now fighting for control inside his own head with… Red Skull. Yes. Red Skull is not fully dead and is mind-fucking him. (Which is very ironic, if you’re into that kind of irony.) And because no villainous plot is complete without an evil megacorporation, Lukin is also deeply tied to Kronos—which just so happens to be the same shady-ass corporation Tony is having problems with on his end (and also the reason he couldn’t go and help out Steve with Bucky). So, Steve is after Lukin. Bucky is after Lukin. Everyone is after Lukin. Tony is… somewhere, likely wishing he was after Lukin. Oh yeah, and there’s a blimp. For reasons best left to comic book logic, Lukin has a blimp. And he has a bad, evil plan, because, well, comic books are full of those and it’s a Captain America story, so it needs at least one Nazi-adjacent asshole pulling some overcomplicated bullshit per issue. Honestly, this whole arc is barely worth mentioning. They win, obviously. The bad plan is foiled, and the blimp does not succeed at being evil. But Bucky gets his arm blown off, so that’s kind of an exciting bit if you want to draw parallels between this and the MCU. The art is nice too. And because this is a Winter Soldier story (as much as it is a Captain America story—oh, just wait!) and consistency is key, Bucky, being a bit of a loner, fucks off immediately after their glorious team-up. But—a bit of a loner is not entirely a loner. Bucky has actually been working with Fury in secret since getting his memories back (surprise!) and is expecting a shiny new arm for his troubles. (So this is probably where all the “S.H.I.E.L.D. working on Bucky’s arm” fics come from, but I’m just guessing here.) Steve doesn't know this is the case and is still angsty AF over the fact that Bucky keeps bailing before they can cry and talk about their deep emotional bond. I have no idea what Sharon thinks about this, but she is a grown-up badass with a flying car (think red Lola from Agents of the S.H.I.E.L.D TV show), and she seems more sympathetic than jealous.

The end of these three arcs is where Bucky and Steve are just before Civil War kicks off, while—just to remind you all—Tony is off having his big “I am pro-registration” revelations and generally making decisions that will ruin his social life for the foreseeable future. Now, if anyone knows for sure where London happens in relation to Execute Program—before? After? In a quantum state of both?—don’t tell me. I don’t care. The timeline is a chaotic mess on the best day, and that’s before you factor in the fact that there are approximately five million other comic book series running at the same time, with characters popping in and out of different issues. Spider-Man has his own stuff going on, Fantastic Four is around, Avengers are a thing, Wolverine is doing his thing too, and it would be crazy to rope all of this in here. Besides, I bet it makes way more sense to people who were reading these comics as they dropped and kept up with literally everything. For the rest of us, losers, if you REALLY want to know all the tie-ins from different superheroes and whatnot, there’s a five-hour YouTube deep dive for that. I feel asleep around hour three and blacked out most of it, even though it's good, so go forth and suffer accordingly, if you wish to know about comic books pre and during Civil War.

Okay, but why are we talking about Civil War in comic books If there’s fuck-all winteriron in it? Great question. And the answer is: because it matters. And, yes, at this stage you either had to close Tumblr to get rid of my post (I know it's long) or are into it anyway, so... Look, I know what you’re thinking—no interaction at all yet. And that’s fair. Comic book Civil War is not at all the MCU Civil War, which was essentially a Steve/Tony drama bomb with Bucky stuck in the middle like a stressed-out single child, unless you count Peter (shoutout to winterspider) and Wanda, sorta. But: the state of the Steve/Tony relationship in 616 Civil War is a direct precursor to how Bucky and Tony actually interact when they finally do meet in 616. Their first real meeting, and everything that happens after it, is soaked in the aftermath of Civil War—not just in terms of plot, but in how they act around each other (which is fascinating, by the way, but we’ll get there). To run a bit ahead here, just to keep you interested, by the time Bucky and Tony actually share a scene in comic books in this timeline, Tony has already:

Had his entire relationship with Steve imploded in the most public way possible.

Spent months (years?) being the face of an extremely controversial movement.

Lost a lot of friends, made a lot of enemies, and had his personal values challenged to hell and back.

Been through an identity crisis about a thousand times.

Had to experience Spider-Man asking him WHAT THE FUCK, TONY? (maybe not in these words exactly)

All while Bucky has been:

On the run from Steve.

Alone.

Having a Very Bad Time.

So, yeah, even though Bucky and Tony don't exactly cross paths a this stage, the emotional damage absolutely carries over into their interactions later. This is the end of Part 1 of this 'brief' recap, since I am re-reading to make this and taking screenshots as I do. I will cover the actual comicverse Civil War in the next part.

[infiniteeight8]

Stephen surprising Tony for his birthday? Maybe somewhere between ironman 1 and 2. And Tony is speechless.

This is an AU, obviously, since in canon they hadn’t met yet during this period of time. I’m going with an established long distance relationship here.

-

It’s three days before his birthday, and Tony is still waffling on whether to have a party. 

Everyone expects him to; his parties are legendary. But after Afghanistan, and everything that followed, he’s not really in a celebratory mood. Everyone else seems to have moved on—it has been months, after all—but it’s not that easy for Tony. Not to mention that Stephen can’t make it. Tony had flown him out last year, but this year he took so much time off to be with Tony after Afghanistan that he’s basically chained to the hospital. 

Tony is slumped over his workbench, staring at blueprints but not really seeing them, when his phone rings. He perks up; it’s Stephen. “Stephen! What’s up?”

“Are you free?” Stephen asks. 

It’s an audio-only call, but Tony detects an edge of excitement that piques his curiosity. “Yes, just puttering around.”

“Go to your front door.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Tony says, dragging the word out, but Stephen doesn’t elaborate. Tony jogs up the stairs, keeping the call active while he makes his way to the door.

When he opens it, Stephen is on his doorstep.

“Surprise,” Stephen says, grinning.

Tony’s jaw actually drops. Stephen is here. How?

“I can’t stay until your actual birthday,” Stephen sounds apologetic. “But I thought you might like this present, anyway.”

Tony can’t remember the last time someone went to this much trouble to do something nice for him. Tony’s the one with resources; everyone expects him to do the string pulling. But Stephen… God knows what kind of favors he’d had to trade to get more time off work. Tony can’t find the words for how this feels, so he just hauls Stephen into a kiss and hopes it gets the idea across.

From the way Stephen holds him, he thinks it does.

[mins-fins]

˖ ࣪ .  the happiest day

❝ for on its wing was dark alloy, and as it fluttered-fell, an essence-powerful to destroy, a soul that knew it well. ❞ ─ edgar allan poe , 1827

warnings swearing, explicit language, implied sexual content, infidelity (sorta), unhealthy relationships, mentions of drug use, drinking, fighting, and one mention of child abuse. word count 7.3k.

JENO ABOUT FAINTS.

“i will have you know that you have the right to remain silent” detective qian crosses his arms above his chest, a spine-chilling, egregious figure intimidatingly prominent before him. it should instill its own feat of comfort, being met with somebody whose main course is to bring justice, gather evidence and solve the crime.

jeno feels all frightened, however, it’s the law, and you were..

“i’m sorry, it’s just a bit—“

“feel free to take your breaks” the crack of a few knuckles, jeno flinches, it’s cold, sweat endures across his perversely brisk skin, the perspiration clearly not giving him the best possible appearance. he already spent a good few hours sobbing his eyes out, sclera’s red beyond repair.

jeno braces himself, there isn’t going to be a hard hit, not a punch, nothing of innate violence, it’s just.. this.

“i wanna help any way i can”.

“of course, i’ll have you know that you are not under investigation for murder, this is basic interrogation protocol we do to everybody”.

“okay”.

jeno is unaware of why he whispers, afraid of something.

“what was your relationship with the victim?”

jeno pauses, the was is particularly perturbing in this instance, a term which jumps out and broadens the true occurrences of this situation. it dawns on him strangely, almost steadily, most would say several hours have already passed, but jeno barely perceives such a time gap until it suddenly consumes his reality overwhelmingly.

you were alive. then you were dead. now he’s here.

“we were friends, very close friends, i.. uh— i had a crush on him”.

it’s a bit embarrassing, juvenile, cheeks all pink in that inherently boyish constraint. jeno is often commended for his honesty, but for the longest time he could never really admit it to anybody, not even you yourself. yet everybody was aware, batted their knowing eyes and curt grins, those are simply the certain things you expect from people when you exhibit such damning behavior.

detective qian’s eyes practically glow at the given information, as if he had just struck gold, jeno barely even stated much..

well he supposes it is much, to him and the now warming blood in his heart.

“had?”

jeno is unsure what extent of the past tense he is even referring to, ‘had’ could encapsulate many things, your death, or the fact that he supposedly got over you.

he decides the second option is the most suitable.

“it was a childhood thing really, i grew out of it over time”.

terrific save jeno.

“huh” he doesn’t believe jeno, the discrete cock of his eyebrow is a bright, loud indication. “was that an unrequited crush?”

well jeno didn’t exactly expect that, it would be terrible for him if it had been, a true spurring detail that could easily brand him as suspect number one, a murder of outrage, jeno is sure that’s probably the easiest notice one could grab.

“well i don’t.. he never said, actually? we didn’t date ever we just— but i guess we kind of did have a relationship..”

you never named it anything, perhaps you simply enjoyed muddling things for him, jeno was enamored, you apparently had that all figured out at every singular glance.

“y/n didn’t like labels” he blurts, a bit outmoded, you would presumably be the slightest irritated at such a soundless giving of details, you’d glare, decorating the surface with the sheer docility your eyes hold. jeno always loved your eyes, they’ve been very intriguing for the several years you two had known each other. “and he wanted someone else anyway, didn’t even have to say it”.

jeno tries so hard, yet the explicit disdain pervades throughout his speech, his very own reply resulting in a slight agonizing squint. he too earns a squint, from the detective, much of an information dump, a scornful expression merely hidden with a sweet smile. “huh, well he seems a bit complicated”.

the chuckle jeno produces is comically dry, the true amusement impeding this situation could not be any farther away. “i didn’t hold it against him”.

“right, so what about the others then?”

“hm?”

“perhaps a disgruntled ex, a crazy one night stand, you have any names for me?”

well of course, he was so pissed when i came around, it would only make sense that he—

“no” jeno swallows, shaking his head. “yeah y/n has a couple terrible exes but they weren’t invited to the party, and if they did somehow show up he would’ve had someone kick them out anyway”.

jeno didn’t tell a whole lie, it was merely partial, a statement not all littered with fallacies. there’s an intolerable stir in his stomach when he even muses on throwing one of them under the bus, he’s sure they are all aware in their own right, every single one of them was there, present, but he feels much too..

he does the speculative squint, the narrowing of his eyes signaling suspicion over a claim that appears much too feasible in jeno’s own eyes,

but perhaps he doesn’t have much of an investigative mind.

“and when y/n passed?”

“i was.. god mark and hyuck were going at each other and jaemin was laughing instead of helping, chenle was cheering and i was trying to calm them down cause y/n would’ve never forgiven them if they got into a fist fight at his party” jeno slightly snickers at the recollection of you, of course you would be worrying over the state of your party rather than mark and donghyuck getting into a fist fight, you already had your bets set on mark winning anyway. “jisung was getting overwhelmed so he went upstairs and—“

“ah” but then the detective’s eyes widen, it is all for a simple reason really. “do you happen to recall where huang renjun was?”

jeno blanks. he.. doesn’t. that’s a bit strange.

he peers for a second too little, as if the moment will appear before his eyes in the manner of some movie flashback. he sees it all; mark and donghyuck screaming at the highest capacity their lungs could offer, jaemin watching with eyes encapsulated by his pure entertainment, chenle giggling, jisung practically on the verge of tears watching, jeno forcing himself in between the two quarreling.

huh. renjun wasn’t there.

he presumes his memory must be off.

“i don’t remember him being there now that i think about it..” jeno’s head is pivoting much too rapidly, growing dizzy despite the lack of clear movement. “i mean he did seem a little angry all night, his answers were snappy but i didn’t think much of it? sometimes he gets overwhelmed easily, besides renjun couldn’t—“

jeno stops himself.

what is he thinking? renjun is capable of a lot more than people expect, innocence never his forte.

“well i’m just curious, you’re much more honest than your little friend”.

now jeno is wondering how donghyuck must’ve relayed it.

but that contains little of true scrutiny, he wasn’t entirely honest either.

~

jeno had his final conversation with you not even an hour before you had been discovered.

11:16, he remembers, by that point in time his head had begun pounding, repetitive melodies drowning into the ear ringing background which he took in as his own. jungwoo had swayed his whole and dumped a shortened story about your clash with donghyuck because of course you two argued, jeno failed to completely hear it all.

“i think i might die”.

always the ever so spectacular, you slapped a hand over your forehead, a tentative habit made to supposedly aid with headaches. you mused to jeno that whenever your father had done it back in your turbulently ‘pain-stricken’ childhood all of the agony erased straight away, he is beginning to wonder how many of those moments could even be clarified in truth. your dad has irked him in every moment, as a child, even too in adulthood.

you were strange, in a frankly striking way which has always interested him.

“don’t do that, does it really even help?”

“you won’t know until you try it”.

jeno had tried it, having almost burst into tears once when he was going through one of the worst fevers life could offer.

it didn’t do shit, but at least you were there to cushion the pain and listen in on the endless rambling paired with sobbing that took place. you let him cry into your shoulder for hours before he was finally ready to take a nap, overwhelmed by it all.

“kinda looks like you’re just hurting yourself”.

“it’s a bit ironic”.

jeno does not recollect the moments in time that led to you two holding hands, but it began much rapidly and never had a sure explanation in his mind. “why’d you two fight again?”

you crinkled your nose at his tone, as if feigning annoyance. “there wasn’t even a reason, we just fight to fight really, sometimes i think it’s embedded in us or some shit”.

jeno has to admit, he giggled at that one.

“seriously, i’m so.. i don’t know, it’s always a thing with us, we argue and we just act like it’s normal”.

“well it sort of is for you two isn’t it?”

you squeezed his hand discreetly, almost glaring, though your eyes reserved that beauty they had in every gaze, jeno may have been just the slightest smitten. “i do love hyuck, you know, i get on his nerves and he gets on mine but it’s all in the name of sport or whatever, debating.. he doesn’t hate me”.

right, donghyuck had been careless with his words but when is he not? it could simply be the effects of knowing someone so closely for that long, but jeno was always aware he’s been a softie, never the toughest type, just stubborn.

“that’s a way to say it”.

“he was drunk”.

it was a minuscule moment where jeno heard you be unsure of yourself, that is much too atypical, he simply perceived everything as planned out in your very mind. “what the fuck am i even saying right? i need to lie down, vomit everything”.

you waved a shy hand as if surrendering, finally allowing your fingers to slip from jeno’s, he about complained, yet he stopped himself.

you rubbed your temples, one, two, three times, then your arms dropped where they had remained prior to the turbulent hand holding. “yeah, think i just miss my bed”.

“you alright?”

“of course i am, just got too drunk” jeno never assumed such a statement would ever escape your mouth, he always assumed your go to would be do now think later.

he realized then, and carries now, that such a prospect could not have been further from every other thing true to your nature.

of course he had to discern such a thing too late.

“do you want me to go with..?”

“no no it’s fine i’m not gonna sleep” you seemed as though you could slip at any moment, eyes having already begun to flutter, yet you pursued on. “a few minutes, i’ll come back downstairs, i’m sure you guys can entertain yourselves without me”.

a few minutes. a. few. minutes.

jeno blinked, a tight breath kept in his throat, he wanted to grab your hand, maybe follow behind you like a lost puppy for the rest of the party.

he should’ve.

“i’ll be fine, don’t worry about me”.

but jeno did, in every waking moment he had that sneaking voice alerting him that he should brood on the singular things you say. sometimes he wishes his mind didn’t expand in such a manner, there is only so much sure worrying you could do over so many words.

“you sure you won’t fall asleep?”

“yes, i have a sure point” you leaned in, a kiss on his cheek, your signature. “love you”.

“love you too”.

then jeno observed you rush upstairs, yearning to follow you, fingers hesitantly pinching at one another. he should have followed you.

he did not, alone time is alone time and you certainly did need it after hours spent downstairs practically driving yourself to insanity.

he supposes much more faith should be put in his own judgement.

JENO PRESUMES HIS MEMORY JUST ACTS AGAINST HIS WILL in most important moments, when he attempts to have a sane conversation with somebody or is simply trying to study, perhaps take an innocent shower. no. his mind dizzies with flurries images he feigns ignorance too, aptly spacing out midway through very pertinent minutes of life he shouldn’t be taking for granted. his pride shatters at each recollection, it’s humiliating, future mind readers possibly having a laugh at the dreadful nature reeling in his head.

jeno remembers the day you two slept together for the first time almost perfectly.

it happens to be that way due to the gravity that night holds, amusingly enough.

just blinks before his eyes every now and then, startling him at even the most mundane of moments, he’s beginning to believe he’s been rendered abnormal.

he almost too often harks back on it all, you pressing him into the doorframe, hands steady on his hips, then they began roaming, curving nails carving marks into its seams and hasty hands meandering to virtually rip his shirt from his chest. tripping over your very feet as you journeyed to his bedroom, disorderly, tangled, done through frankly idiotic giggles and extensive lip biting.

jeno recalls assuming such all to be a dream when it had happened, it’s the person he’d been essentially in love with for a time he barely comprehends displaying his innate desire point blank.

well it couldn’t have been any more crystalline.

jeno still presumed it was a dream whilst you two lied together, the flat of your palm resting atop his encased heart, the quickening beats per minute would have easily been observed, even soundly. you gazed up at the insipid ceiling, jeno’s vision continued blurring for some odd reason.

“how long were you planning on doing that?”

jeno glanced in your direction, immediately entranced by the just how simply you could behold such looks. the whole universe could be portrayed by the hue of your eyes alone, it’s fascinating, jeno could stare in them for hours.

your awareness appeared brightly, displayed in the manner you flicked him in the forehead, drawing a yelp. “you alive in there?”

“let a guy breathe dammit”.

“was it all you ever wished for?”

jeno always regarded himself as exceptionally hopeful, a true man of his word, all bright despite the disdain the world so tried to push atop him.

his eyebrows furrowed, they were never all detailed, jeno assumed the highest point possible would be imminent rejection, his virtue had torturously beaten such a thing into his head until he figuratively bled out on the floor with the blurring image of you beholding his gaze.

but you were there in his bed, jeno got the memo way too late.

it didn’t matter then, though.

“not exactly, more of dreamed”.

“wow, you weren’t wishing on a shooting star every night awaiting this very moment?”

jeno allowed a snort, what mattered was your delivery, not much pertaining to the true amusement the joke could hold in another setting. he just thought you were funny, explicitly funny, bounded to extensive sarcasm and self serving quips.

“you’re so full of yourself”.

your stare from that day was one jeno struggled to decode, jeno can visualize it all, your rings, a barrage of gold and silver that somehow fit together, your eyes, a massive spiral akin to photos captured of the milky way, the initial quirks of your smile which he couldn’t help but shy away from.

that hadn’t been the end of your night, though.

and jeno also had an inherent intrigue in something else his eyes could not even be forcefully pried away from.

he just couldn’t decipher why such a sight angered him as much as he recalls.

“you know what? we should go out”.

“go out? it’s almost midnight”.

but you’d already rolled out of your very comfortable spot in his bed, leaning over onto the floor where you began collecting the strewn variety in which your clothes littered around. it was all so simple to you, nothing of the innate embarrassment jeno could not his showcasing of.

you clicked your tongue, nose scrunched at the wrinkled nature your shirt posed. “it needs to be romantic, okay? can't believe i haven’t taken you out yet”.

“you don’t have to..”

you glanced again, almost amused before whistling. “what kind of person would i be? dinner is only a sure”.

“dinner? at this time?”

you tutted, willfully ignoring such a question as you stared down the articles of clothing, momentarily, jeno observed regret in your eyes, but then you smiled, as if nothing had happened at all, little lapse in your judgment. “you haven’t eaten dinner today, right? okay, i’m gonna go home and change into something more fitting, you wait for a phone call from me”.

jeno digested such said information gradually, as if somebody’s life was on the line or you could even really bide your time in that particular situation. you allowed the silence to hang, not one distinct blink that jeno can recall glimpsing, just.. staring.

occasionally, even without fault, you displayed a coy eeriness.

then the smile appeared once again, vibrant, way too pretty. “i’m taking you out on a date, stupid, wear something nice”.

it was all puerile, the way jeno grew flustered at the rustic words, his smile so faint-hearted, so cute. being treated is sweet, dates are absolutely to die for, if you hadn’t been there he would have little choice but to giggle to his heart’s content.

he may have been much too smitten by then.

FALLING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH FOR A GOOD THREE AND A HALF months should be the most impractical of tasks to successfully accomplish, but you have never enjoyed taking no for an answer. jeno could mark several days leading up to that discrete moment that he assumed it was a farce, the dramatics of it all have always been your favorite, however, speculation drives you, countless people with your name on their tongue akin to adrenaline, a fix, the sort of drug you don’t just get from guys in shady alleyways, you have to do big to earn the attention you want, your sights had already been set.

it may have been one of your worst addictions, yet everybody handed such a fix to you on a silver platter. it extended from strangers to even those who were extensively close, donghyuck and chenle simply couldn’t resist, they presumed that you not being around meant that you would never figure out the tales they spewed.

but the words falling into your hands was inevitable.

well someone did know where you had disappeared off to in that time, jeno was aware because he kept most quiet during lunch story times, only ever observing idly, biting his tongue in order for the truth to not aptly slip from his lips. donghyuck and chenle spouted their ridiculous stories while jisung scrunched his nose because he liked to believe you were all perfect, the edges which rid your personality were nothing to the golden shade he admired you.

not even jeno was that naive.

“if it really was an overdose than his parents probably would’ve bled our ears to death with the news”.

“what makes you think they didn’t just cover it all up so their little gala would be spotless?”

“he didn’t even go!”

“well that proves my point genius!”

he thinks they were much too into it.

jaemin rolled his eyes at the remarks and went back to cooing at the stupid photos of his cats he adored so much, he always attempted the mysterious approach, jeno knew he had little of that in his true personality, he was simply peculiar in his own sense.

renjun sneered, the claims entertaining though increasingly tedious to hear of every single day. jisung kept the sugarcoating to an all time high, of course he did because how else would he cope? jeno loves jisung, but he could just never understand the leaps his mind had to take in order to paint you in such a bright light.

he remembers what you said a good month before your.. ‘break’ (if it could even be called that).

“what makes you think i can’t just disappear? pull a houdini and walk into a box to never come out?”

jeno gazed, your dazzling flair displayed in the manner you motioned your hands, like you really were about to pull a houdini and escape from handcuffs. you have wanted to be many things, an author, a magician, perhaps an actor, anything that would piss off your father extensively, witness such a turning frown sprout on his face when you became something he detested.

you adored his bubbling anger.

“well for starters, your parents would never support such a thing”.

“they don’t have to, they don’t know the half of it”.

jeno supposes you did have several secrets, but how much could your parents not know? sometimes he thinks they have cameras behind their eyes, especially your father, he can’t even begin to envision your relation, it’s all looks, your father’s got nothing of a picturesque personality.

you, however, had all of it.

“how dishonest can you be with your parents before they catch on?”

your smile from that specific moment perturbs jeno, strangely, there’s a possible horror there he lingers on for a sheer moment, then it all muddles itself into nothing. he stared at you, attempting to gauge out something from the shadow which cascaded over your intent.

“you’d be surprised”.

“but you’re so..”

jeno did not collect his words in time, instead remaining silently gobsmacked despite his clear desire to say something. the hefty terms sat atop his tongue, you didn’t long for the answer, rushing on over to the widely expanded kitchen where you began rummaging through cabinets.

“i’m so? don’t you go silent on me now”.

“so bright, yeah that’s the word.. it’d be a little useless knowing everybody would suspect something sinister”.

your eyes glistened with an ingrained want, a glowing need jeno didn’t need extensive academic credentials to understand. “well i want the attention, for one”.

of course, jeno was too busy observing other things to grasp that one.

the locket had been there for a while, jeno didn’t get you that. totally platonic friends can gift their fellow friends gifts such as that, but the heart and pristine golden engravings purportedly glared in his direction, as if mocking. messing around with others was a given, jeno should’ve known somebody else could capture your attention in such a fashion, get you a gift which practically screamed i’m better than you in his face.

every time he glanced, a confining curl of unwritten envy stabbed at his stomach, the gleam at the corner of his eye always alerting him that ‘exclusive’ was not a word in your vocabulary.

he tried to ignore it.

“seriously?”

you hummed, all cute, then holding up a vintage porcelain plate, the ridges a gold akin to your locket branded in a stylish circle. your nails did nothing against the ridges, it’s likeness reminded jeno of several old paintings, the same kind which adorned the walls of your parents home. “do you wanna know what’s special about this plate, jeno?”

jeno snorted, your smile remained, your surveying eyes fixed on the material which could only produce a giggle. jeno has had bright knowledge of your various laughs, you have certain ones you love to simply sprout. your giggles are important because he’s aware they’re genuine, your laughter is always transfixed on something, someone.

for the certain person, your laughter echoes distinctly.

only one of those laughs was ever as vibrant, though,

and it wasn’t for jeno.

“enlighten me”.

“this plate is a family showpiece, it carries a stupid amount of worth, the shit goes for five thousand at best, dad had it and his daddy had it and his daddy had it and so on and so forth, mother treats it as more of a child than me”.

“is this a story?”

“it’s pertinent” you very gently placed the valuable piece onto the counter, delicately, too out of fashion for somebody in your caliber. “if my parents care about this little plate so much, whose to say they’ll even notice i’m gone?”

“a plate is your ticket to disappearing?”

“it’s an idea”.

the apparent idea was an evident success, just how was the strange outcome.

when the two week mark passed, jeno realized you really did pull it off, disappearing without anybody.. including your parents, realizing where you had gone.

scratching behind his ear, he adjoined the conversation. “wouldn’t he be at the lake house then?”

donghyuck scoffed, squeezing his cheeks into an astounding vice grip; jeno didn’t recall him ever being particularly strong, but the shit hurt. “that’s the most obvious of places, it’s why we already verified he isn’t there!”

“maybe he left the country, went on an abrupt vacation”.

“by himself?”

“what is he, twelve? y/n can handle his own shit”.

“is this all you guys are gonna talk about? i’d rather hear mark impersonate a weatherman” renjun’s complaining was on par with how the whole situation stood out.

it wasn’t expressly urgent, not because you carried little importance, but because he knew you. you’d show up and create a spectacle for the love of everything dramatic, that’s just how you were.

jeno guesses he should’ve seen it coming.

YOU ALWAYS DID ENJOY A GOOD MYSTERY, AND LUCKILY YOU HAD BEEN BORN INTO a life which offered you several millions, enough for a fully crowded library in at least one of your parents assorted properties, an innate privilege most can dream of. it’s entertainment at its finest, you would always muse. someone dies, there’s a cast of quirky characters, maybe they’re trapped on a train, an island, snowed in at some tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, it’s fun when there’s a stake.

there always is one with you.

when you were younger, you wanted to be an author, your mother went to college in hopes of someday getting out a book of her own. jeno only bears such facts in his mind due to your unabashed declaring of them to him whenever you decide you want to spend a good moment up in the clouds.

i found one of moms old drafts once, i thought it was genius, the best writing ever, i kept going back for seconds, all greedy and shit, you know? she wanted to write, but she ended up stuck with dad, stuck doing nothing important, left dreaming about the life she could’ve had if she kept punching at barriers. she made me think i could be an author too, then dad found out i said such a thing, of course he did cause he’d never let me live in peace, made sure i wouldn’t ever think of putting pen to paper, broke my right wrist, said if i cried he’d ‘make me wish i were dead’.

a typical person who understood what they truly experienced wouldn’t brush it off with a mere hand and some terse chuckles, as if it were funny, humorous, amusing, not extensively concerning because your parents should not be breaking your bones for something so small.

cannabis is where the true honesty lies.

that’s terrifying, something along those lines jeno had muttered, his reminiscing can be shifty, blurred.

but he does recall you laughing at it all, your ‘childhood memories’ holding nothing of the vibrance they should, especially for somebody in your situation.

“well at least i have money” and the books continued stacking, as if you were to climb them like a leader. jeno read the fine print embroidered over the covers as best he could, eyes opting to squint instead in order for the terms to appear somewhat readable. head up in the clouds, he snorted at nothing, merely your stack of several books, the stupid stack which practically towered over you, a staggering six feet.. or he thinks, jeno must’ve been too high, numbers appearing as whatever they pleased. “all because my daddy made an investment when he was eighteen, the wonders of the world!”

you had that knack, rambling, droning on and on about shit jeno could only stare idly at. occasionally his brain erased terms of importance, streaming words blurring into an extensive ear ringing pattern. he listened in various moments, wavering in and out of seeming consciousness.

you loved to talk, jeno always enjoyed listening.

giggles are endless when the weed settles, and jeno will admit that they were so fucking cute, it wasn’t just the expanded affection coloring his brain, anybody could admit you produced adorable noises. “well someday it may all just go”.

“when that happens i may just have to go with it”.

jeno recalls choking on nothing, the words slightly brightening despite the effect drugs clearly have on auditory nerves.. mostly. “is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise! anyway, let me tell you all there is about crooked house!”

it was a threat, not in the typical way threats are fashioned, and you could dish out some good ultimatums when you desired, it’s why jisung always jumped at the sight of your strangely crafted smile. jeno had no true fear of you, not whilst you lived anyway, you were simply.. well a bit freakish, not in accordance with someone like jaemin, jeno couldn’t exactly interpret the many lines which dealt themselves across your skin, all that determination instead focused on other aspects.

kissing was nice, giggling over weed as you two acted like everything was real and the illusion held up in some manner jeno almost wishes could crowd his facade. it was no secret that exclusivity made you feel all terribly, your stomach curling with that stupid heat which rendered one bed sick all day. you truly enjoyed the whole acting approach, it is not as if you were some emotionless bastard, far from it in fact, you just mused that life was too short for relationships to keep you bound indefinitely.

jeno simply got wrapped up in what you described as “all tumultuous”, enthralled by the picture of you, various perks he had been hooked upon ever since he realized that you do not have feelings like that for your regular platonic best friend when your in high school and he’s branded as whorish.

and every single time he glanced at the locket, he would hope to retch it all up, he couldn’t fathom such a gift simply tightening itself around his point of respiration. his gaze trained on it in every particular moment of importance, carvings taunting him.

“we should make cookies” you lept from your spot instantly, almost tripping straight into a shelf, about putting a wood shaped hole in your head. “we need to make oatmeal chocolate chip this time”.

“can you even walk?”

“i don’t need my legs to make cookies” and then you stumbled over, hands bracing his own as you wrestled when pulling him upward, jeno doing his own purposeful hard work in order to bruise your attempt a few, just to play with you. “hey, i’m not playing around here”.

“but it’s so fun”.

jeno really assumed the locket was nothing,

it was too much.

“you won’t get any, then”.

“but i have to do all the work!”

it was an unfortunate night of messes, the cookies turned out good, you knocked out in a matter of minutes, snuggled against his side with occasional shivers alerting him that you had not just silently passed in your sleep, the rise and fall of your chest keeping the warmth around him elevated.

jeno supposes you may have been closer to other people, but a fucking locket doesn’t mean anything, not in comparison to baking cookies while exchanging kisses in a kitchen, snickering over inside jokes nobody else would ever recognize though you were both high out of your minds, disoriented beyond relief.

or maybe that is just what most people think when they get caught up in a situation they don’t have control over, with the huge glaring issue of not knowing how much you understand the person you’re infatuated by.

a lot of it keeps pounding into his head, continuous, a good add on to regrets his conscious delivers.

“HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS UP?” BECAUSE DONGHYUCK ALWAYS TOOK THE blunt approach when it came to whatever the fuck you two had going on, a sore subject that he had his clear suspicions about but uttered on a small-scale. crushes are their own feat of normalcy, yet donghyuck was aware you weren’t the most regular of people, so was jeno and chenle and mark and jaemin and renjun, maybe jisung kept the wool over his eyes, but that’s jisung, jeno perceived that as a simple rite of passage, he was mostly akin to your shadow more than anything.

“ugh, what now?”

“why so annoyed, jeno? it’s not like you to suddenly be so inattentive with these things”.

“it’s cause his feelings are too big”.

“fuck you”.

“ouch! my heart!” donghyuck opted for a performance bit, a hand placed atop his heart, his figure falling backward onto various cushions, presumably feigning death, abject despair from words jeno usually didn’t speak, even when they were irritating him with their consistent kissy noises and pairing eyebrow raises. “how rude jeno, you killed him!”

“he deserved it”.

when donghyuck rose again, he swooped his head upward and fixed his hair, not even a strand meeting fingertips. then his arms propped up over the advanced table and he narrowed his eyes, the extensive attention on jeno. “seriously, it’s a good maybe two weeks before y/n decides he wants to hop on another one”.

“that’s a little ironic coming from you—“

“this is about y/n, not me, you can’t talk about morals to me”.

“yeah but i can talk about hypocrisy”.

“do you even know what that means? you ever open a dictionary, chenle? or did you have a nanny do it for you? little bitch..”

“oh no jeno is y/n’s little bitch”.

jeno scrunched his nose, the language nothing of a bother yet having met his senses in various rushing fashions, that may have just been the wine, donghyuck and his stupid wine collection which always pinched at his throat unbearably. how he even drank that stuff is beyond jeno’s comprehension.

he was about to say something, perhaps a week argument in his favor, but renjun of all people beat him to it.

“that’s much more up jisung’s alley”.

“hey! don’t get on jisung’s case, he’s a baby”.

“a tall eighteen year old baby, why don’t i get his treatment?”

“you’re a literal monster, at least jisung has redeeming qualities”.

“i have many redeeming qualities! i’m chivalrous!”

jeno is sure chenle could not spout the definition of that word even at gunpoint, all crossed arms and large mouthed when it mattered, because being right in comparison to donghyuck was all that mattered.

“renjun called jisung a bitch, i think he should get booted from the group” jaemin aimed his glass in the former’s direction, shaking his head, his attachment is all obvious, not much of a glare yet enough for jeno to have unraveled a mere animosity. jaemin can be uncanny, yes, but jaemin doesn’t typically hate. “and hyuck called y/n a slut”.

“i didn’t say that!”

“it was implied”.

“implied my ass it’s nothing no one else hasn’t said before, mark didn’t even show up!”

jeno squinted, that was strange, even with his stance on things, the whole thing was a tradition most of them took with true pride, drinking in a circle accompanied by your friends who aren’t exactly friends in the general sense of the word is something most people cannot resist, jisung only avoided such a custom because he didn’t want to drink underage, a rule follower from birth. mark not showing up was weird but jeno guessed he had more important things to do which did not include a group of them shaming you before him.

it was the first of those meetings which did not include you, peculiarly enough because you and hyuck pretty much started the whole thing, a bit ironic considering all you two did was argue when the terrible wine finally settled.

everyone enjoyed watching.

“mark is probably sick of your shit”.

“and y/n’s also literally missing! for all we know he’s dead in mexico or something..”

“you don’t seem that concerned, it won’t be long until you see him in hell”.

“anyway” donghyuck waved his hand renjun’s way, ignoring him with the smile that always sprouted when he was drunk. “jeno, i’m just looking out for you, y/n’s like a shark, you know? he’ll drain you of all your life and then leave you all dry when there are bigger fish around”.

“could you get that cushion for me?”

“smother him!”

chenle glanced donghyuck’s way. “i can’t say i didn’t see it coming”.

donghyuck again fainted over the couch, his heart having stopped at such rough words from those who were meant to be his coveted friends till death or whatever. maybe mark should have been there, he’s the only one jeno has recollection of being to calm them down, you were always the catalyst for blow ups, it caused something of a terrific spike in your heart, all smiles as you watched everybody grow more agitated.

“think you’re the last person on earth who should complain about someone sleeping around, hyuckie”.

“don’t call me that”.

“no seriously, you wanna be all big and bad, what if y/n was here, huh? you’re no better than jisung, don’t even have the guts to say it to his face”.

jeno’s eyes passed over the two arguing, there was no contest, jaemin would beat donghyuck to a pulp, all for him having a big mouth, at least you could put up a good fight, donghyuck wished. “what’s wrong with telling the truth?”

“y/n would kick your ass”.

“well he isn’t here to kick my ass, maybe you could do it for him, hm? if jeno won’t do the pleasure”.

jeno clicked his tongue, it was too late by then, one in the morning, rounding the corner halfway to two, he decided it was the perfect time to exit. if donghyuck ended up getting punched by jaemin like he so dearly wished then chenle would send him the video, maybe renjun would giggle or something, jeno couldn’t even say he was entirely against it, most of the debacle was hilarious.

“if you do get into it i don’t wanna be here for that”.

“but what if you need to hold hyuckie back when he throws a punch?”

“i said don’t call me that”.

“well what are you gonna do about it?”

“ladies please!”

jeno hummed, offering his best eye smile despite the overwhelming situation. “i’m sure y/n will send a postcard or something, you two do all the damage you desire”.

“wait why are you leaving me with them?” renjun whined. “take me with you please!”

“good night, renjun”.

he’s sure renjun cursed him to hell that night, and maybe he deserved it, not entirely.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK SOMEBODY WOULD GAIN FROM MURDERING Y/N?” JENO HAS NEVER THOUGHT detectives could truly have that horrific look in their eyes, all of it beholding a degree of barbarity he typically never witnesses in men, but he guesses he has only gazed upon men who had no true terrible intent, jeno realizes he would never recognize if he were looking the murderer in the face that night, and that’s masquerading well in a crowd. he blinks, he doesn’t have to think for that one.

“satisfaction” he drawls. “it probably would’ve been momentary, maybe they didn’t want to kill him but—“ then he gets a look, jeno knows that look because every time jaemin says something that doesn’t really make sense he can’t help but gaze that way. “i mean, i don’t even know what i’m saying, i’m sorry i haven’t slept at all”.

“usually people are more honest when they’re exhausted” jeno supposes his inhale is too loud in the room’s expanse, because the detective does that smile thing which freaks him out, eyes rid of their typical color, as if they’re pitch black. “and honesty is the key in an investigation”.

jeno bites the inside of his cheek, he begins scratching at the junction his wrist shares to his hand. “think, i’m sure you all have interesting answers”.

“well throwing our lives to shit for one” jeno winces, the continuous scratching made for good pain. “of course y/n wasn’t the greatest but he also wasn’t the spawn of satan, he wouldn’t invite people who despised him to his birthday party”.

“so what gives you the impression that one of you didn’t do it?”

jeno almost flinches, he barely keeps it all together, hands kept clasped together like he’s on life support, glued shut, he can’t pull them apart. he blinks, two separate blinks as if he’s some idiot who cannot comprehend big words. “like.. the seven of us?”

“if people who hated him weren’t there then they possibly couldn’t have done it, right? you know people are most likely to be murdered by someone they know well in comparison to some one off enemy”.

jeno’s eye twitches, donghyuck probably knew that, heck you probably knew yourself, courtesy of the many detective stories you two can’t help but have littering across your shelves. “well i don’t.. i just can’t see one of them doing it, i know that probably isn’t a good answer but i can’t imagine fucking— renjun grabbing a knife and stabbing y/n like seven times”.

his eyes again light up, he gets too excited over things he shouldn’t, but he guesses being a detective entails that, excitement for words which don’t come out completely right, eyes all glowy like some over obsessed teenager. “well maybe that’s just an indication that you don’t know your friends as well as you may think, time means nothing when you all have secrets”.

jeno remains silent, a bad sign.

“you know what was missing when y/n died?” his fingers poke at a certain file, his eyes do not stray off jeno, however, his lips do that side hook upward, all cocky, a sham. “no i really want you to take a guess”.

“i have nothing in mind”.

the detective decides to drop a crystal clear picture of the crime scene before him, jeno instinctively moves back in his seat, but there is also another photo there, a photo of your college id.

the fucking locket.

jeno is sure he’s paled, as if he’s seen a ghost.

the detective whistles, drawing a figurative circle around your neck, pointed in a very specific direction. “you wouldn’t happen to know who got him this locket, do you?”

well jeno guesses this is a good time to be honest.

“no, i’m sure one of them knows, but it’s not me”.

“ah, maybe you should swear an oath on that, then”.

jeno isn’t sure he can swear on anything, not on his parents, nor on god or the law or anything credible, he didn’t do anything, he’s sure none of them did either but how is he supposed to trust them?

he knows them, he knows enough.

of course jeno’s a coward, not jisung cowardly but he presumes he could make a good stance on that point. there are too many other issues for him to be worrying about stupid things like lockets or if you actually loved or not or—

when jeno leaves that interrogation room, he craves to just bash his head in on the nearest wall, images of the locket flashing in his brain like some stupid movie.

he’s sure he has a migraine creeping up on him.

masterlist .. ˓   previous ─  next

[baselicoc]

i know that atsv and spiderverse in general is probably not including Gabe for various reasons and therefore when Mig took his alt selfs place he wasnt actually leaving anyone behind. he said something along the lines of “i found a universe where i was happy” which kinda screams that something was fucked up with his home one, i’d like to think more than usual because the other explanation is that he just left like all his family behind. Which is extremely messed up but also on the other hand a little funny

like imagine being gabe here. Imagine your older brother fucks off to another universe because of his depression and comes back with even worse depression ranting some shit about canon events. You have to be told where he went by his AI because god knows your brother has all the communication skills of a rusty spoon. Have to be told he fucking left with no intention of coming back

[white-cat-of-doom]

Happy Valentine's day, my dear friend! If you believe the cats celebrate Valentine's or something equivalent, what do you think they'd be doing for their significant others to treat them?

Happy Valentine's Day to you as well, my dear friend!

I do believe that the Cats would celebrate the day in their own way and that different couples would spend some quality time together. I do tend to think that while the day itself may not be exciting, the evening would bring out more of a celebration.

I can see the Tribe getting all together (or as much as possible, maybe some of them have other plans and someone like Old Deuteronomy would be absent) for dinner, courtesy of Bustopher Jones, so that everyone can feel the love from him in his own special way. He wants everyone to be happy and what better way than to get everyone together on his terms for once. A lot of smiles and laughs from the whole group and everyone will leave fulfilled in a multitude of ways. Bustopher would not stay for too long after, maybe he has plans or another group of non-Jellicle Cats to feed, but he makes sure to give Jennyanydots a little token of his appreciation. This would entail something practical that he knows she would use, like a bobbin of fine thread. Once everyone is done with their meal is when the more one-on-one split offs would occur.

However, I think a large portion of the Tribe would stay together and have a smaller party, with Munkustrap and Bombalurina organizing something to do with the Kittens, together with many of the adult Cats. They would have Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees take charge for a dance oriented activity with some fun lighting. Coricopat and Tantomile would have little 'love potions' that they made for fun, with Cassandra swearing that they truly work (you can trust her! She would not lie to you ;) ). Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer would help create Valentine's cards to give to everyone, which would be distributed later on in a very discreet manner so no one knows who sent who anything. I see some of the younger Cats holding affection for each other, with some feeling it quite strongly, but afraid to say it (Electra is a mess inside, but stays collected in front of Etcetera. One day, she thinks to herself.). All in all, the younger Cats would have an evening full of fun while certain adults had their private time with their significant other.

What each couple does depends on who they are:

Plato would be the one to 'borrow' a pink rose (because it reminds him of her pink paw pads and nose) from a floralist to bring to Victoria as soon as he could, along with a smaller gift of some sort, like a bow or a stuffed mouse to play with. Victoria would remind Plato that she does not really need anything, but it will not stop him from trying to give her something special. They would enjoy the dinner with the Tribe and then go for a nice walk together through town to look at the lights, settling down somewhere quiet to eventually look at the stars. A quick dance together under the moonlight, followed by some talking about anything they think of, like how the night sky shines brighter when they are together. They would sit closely, partly facing each other to look into each other's eyes (a lot of comforting slow blinks, all romantic like) until Victoria would get up to move directly beside (and slightly on top of) Plato. Sharing the embrace of one another, they would sit in relative silence, with only their combined purring making any noise. Once it is late enough, Plato would take Victoria home to make sure she arrived safely.

Alonzo and Demeter would also enjoy the group dinner and then go to a higher spot in the Junkyard to sit together quietly after, and perhaps watch the group activities below from afar. I do not see either of them saying much, but they would not necessarily need to. I can see Demeter grooming Alonzo at some point which helps her to feel at ease and grounded, and he appreciates the closeness it affords. Once the activities with the Kittens dies down, they would watch the stars as well together, letting the silence speak to the calm that they now have in their lives and with the Tribe. They would eventually return to the dens below after the others have went to sleep.

Not part of the Tribe celebrations, Asparagus would sneak on to the Midnight Mail with Skimbleshanks to enjoy an unique night of watching his partner in action. Their downtime would involve enjoying any festivities and food found on the train and watching the countryside quickly roll by out of the windows of one of the passenger cars. They would settle in together in the luggage van for a catnap or two, until at least Skimbleshanks would jump into action anytime they reached a new station. Asparagus appreciates the youthful attitude Skimbleshanks displays on the job, and Skimbleshanks would love the company he has, excited to show off how good he is at his position.

Lastly, Jennyanydots and Jellylorum would partake in the group dinner, also making sure that Gus was brought in and included. After getting Gus to bed, the two would rest together in their den, tending to their hobbies and chatting about the day, and getting somewhat nostaglic about the time that has past since they were young Queens. Eventually curling up together in a ball of two Cats as one, they would sleep peacefully until the next morning. No late night activities for the Gumbie Cat tonight!

Thank you so much for the ask, Jemi! <3

[swordmaid]

in my hc the noble houses of menzoberranzan operate similarly to the houses in ice and fire where they’re constantly feuding with each other but instead of trying to take the throne/control of the whole realm they’re all fighting for lolth’s favour instead. and because they can’t outright declare war on each other (forgot the reason for why they can’t exactly do that but iirc lolth doesn’t like it?? she loves the drama I guess) and if they rise too quickly lolth casts them down so they have to be cunning about it. not to mention if they stay too long in power and do nothing about it that also displeases the spider queen so the nobility’s game of intrigue is constantly moving and working both for self gain and for self preservation.

shri’iia also plays the game but more of a pawn than a player. she’s not born from any noble house (she’s actually a commoner). the only reason why she has any foot in the game is that she’s taken in by the matriarch of faen tlabbar - one of the houses who fervently worships lolth to the point of zealotry - when they’ve heard word that she—a commoner—have managed to succeed lolth’s trials and gained her blessing. lolth blessings are rare to come and making someone a paladin is even more rare so for a zealot house, that’s a a sign they can’t pass up. so, the house matriarch takes her in and keeps in a tower where she’s supposed to pray and train to lolth day and night. the paladin oath that shri’iia swears is both for lolth and her matriarch; she swears to punish the enemies of her mistresses and forever keep her loyalty to them. her matriarch’s word is an extension to lolth’s will, so to disobey her will be disobeying lolth herself.

and ofc shri’iia being born poor with everything to give and nothing to lose, who thought that there is more to her life than a merchant’s daughter, to be known by the goddess she worship and noticed by one of the most influential houses in the city, swears herself to that oath. she never regretted that choice not even when she’s kept in that tower in complete isolation with her matriarch being the only person she could interact with.

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

We NEED more soft!Rafe after the new season. He moved out and got a whole house to himself maybe he could ask his girl to move in? Becasue he wants her there and to be part of his life...his new life where he's a better person

Request: SOFT RAFE PLSSS

I don't know when I found time to write this, but enjoy soft!Rafe asking his girlfriend to move in with him! Feel free to send more requests, I'll write when I find time

Warnings: soft!Rafe, relationship moving quickly, mention of Ward's death

—

‘’Rafe, I truly can’t see. I’m not cheating,'’ you promised as you walked with Rafe’s hands over your eyes.  

He had picked you up in late afternoon and refused to tell you where you were going. Just that he wanted to show you something...and that you had to close your eyes during the whole drive. 

Rafe laughed a bit, trusting you. ''Okay, okay.'' 

You walked a few more steps, then he stopped and removed his hands from your eyes, revealing a large two story house. 

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Who's house is this?''

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘’Mine,'' he whispered in your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your jawline. ‘’As of this morning.'' 

Surprise filled your face. ‘’You bought a house?’’ 

Every time Rafe showed up to your place after a fight with his family — most often his father —, needing a bed to crash in for a few days, you tried talking to him about getting his own place. It would solve a lot of conflicts. But Rafe always said he wasn’t ready to leave the family nest. 

Behind you, Rafe hummed. ‘’I bought it with a part of my dad’s inheritance money. Sharing a house with Rose is not possible anymore. Too much has happened...’’ 

You covered his hands with yours in silent support. You’d heard the ugly stories about Rose and Rafe. He hadn’t always made the best decisions in the past, but Rose constantly blamed him for everything bad that happened to the family. Rafe may have deep personal issues, but it was wrong of her to villainize him.

‘’Do you want a tour?’’ he asked, his voice brimming with excitement, and the eagerness in his eyes made it impossible for you to refuse.

You followed Rafe up the steps to the porch of his new home. He fumbled briefly with the key before pushing the door open, but just as you were about to enter, he pulled you to a sudden stop.

“Wait,” he ordered, his strong arms wrapping around you as he effortlessly lifted you up.

You squeaked, startled by the sudden move. ‘’Rafe, we're not married, you know,’’ you said with a soft laugh, looping an arm behind his neck. ‘’You don't have to carry me over the threshold."

He set you down gently on the wooden floor of the entrance hall and shut the door behind him. 

Inside, the house felt big and empty, its openness accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows.

‘’I don’t know why, but I expected it to be fully furnished,’’ you admitted, glancing towards what you assumed was the living room. 

Rafe chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours as he guided you further in. ‘’Some people do buy them furnished, but this one wasn’t. You’ll have to help me pick out furniture because I suck at decorating.’’ 

The kitchen was massive and even had two ovens — a rich people thing. It was unfortunate Rafe didn’t cook. The backyard had a large patio where Rafe mentioned wanting to set a barbecue and a firepit, and maybe one of those large daybeds. He wanted his house to be cozy and feel like a home, not look straight out of a fucking magazine.

As he led you into the last room upstairs, the master bedroom, Rafe's voice grew soft. The words were burning on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to say them. 

‘’And here's our bedroom. I mean, the bedroom.’’ He made a mistake on purpose, just to see your reaction. 

You tried to hide the smile that spread across your lips, your heart beating fast in your chest. The slip of his tongue hadn't gone by unnoticed. Did he truly mean for you to live here with him? Was this why he took you to the house and insisted on making it a surprise? 

‘’There’s a big bathtub in the master bedroom, and—’’ Rafe continued, moving toward the bathroom to show you the bathtub, but you were not listening. 

Moving in with someone is a huge step in a relationship, not something you can decide on a whim. You and Rafe had only been together for a few months, so it felt a bit early to take that step. But then again, everything in your relationship had moved quickly from the start. He met your parents two weeks after your first kiss, and said ‘I love you’ after twenty-six days of dating — yes, you had counted them. 

When Rafe glanced back at you, he noticed you seemed deep in thought. ‘’Is everything okay?’’ he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. ‘’Yeah, everything’s good,’’ you replied, smiling at him. ‘’I was just thinking of all the time it’ll take us to christen our house.’’ A mischievous grin curled on your lips as you walked toward him. ‘’Maybe we should start now. It’s a big house.’’ 

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise as he heard what you were implying. He expected you to refuse, to say it was too soon. 

‘’You’ll move in with me?’’ he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. 

You nodded, and a smile curled on Rafe's face. He's never been happier.

—

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[nanaslutt]

gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.

[lovegasmic]

 ᰋ. HOW TO GET THE GIRL ? : jujutsu kaisen ᰍ 

request : [ them ] being the “other man” showing reader they won’t give up on her even though she now wants to be loyal. alt : just pretend there is no boyfriend and it’s exes trying to win you back.

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso kamo, sukuna x fem!reader ’ ୨୧ taglist

cw. slight mentions of sex◞ Sukuna gets in a fight ◞ other than that it’s all fluff / crack and probably a bit ooc.

˙ . ꒷ toji . 𖹭 ˙ — is the type that would purposely frequent the places he knows you’re going to be at, and to make it worst, when he knows you’ll be with your boyfriend.

the mall, that one restaurant you told him about, your favorite hair salon and that one clothing store, all places Toji attempts to find you at, calling you on the phone? that’s weak.

until you do ‘accidentally’ bump into Toji at the club where you first met, and he has this wide grin while nonchalantly approaching, eyeing your boyfriend up and down as if the sight was insulting, “oh, look who is here” he chuckles and you’re about to scream.

“do you know him?” your boyfriend asks, a bit taken guarded, no one could blame him really, that menacing look on Toji’s eyes plus the size of the man is just a perfect combo for disaster.

pissed is mild, you’ve already told Toji to stay away yet he never listens, “just briefly, he is not important”

the black haired man’s eyes glint with what looks like anger, but still masked under a smirk and crossed arms to purposely bulge his arms, “is that a way to talk to an old friend?” he tuts, mocking, “i’m hurt”

“let’s get going” you mutter in a rush, tugging your boyfriend to leave as soon as possible, but of course, Toji is not having it, holding onto your wrist to tug you instead towards another corner and quite fast, just to push you against a wall.

“what a fuckin’ pathetic man you got” he huffs, noticing how your boyfriend just stood there frozen, “i can’t believe you chose that”

“i chose no one, he was my first, you’re just a fling” that shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

“you didn’t say that when you were screaming my name” his hands are a bit firmer on your arms.

and your face burns slightly, “that’s different”

“how so?” Toji’s voice is demanding and gruff, “we had so much fun together, I can take better care of you than that pathetic excuse of a man you have..., please” he does not need much, really, just a single chance, and by the way your eyes drop slightly, he knows you’re seconds away from giving in.

˙ . ꒷ kento . 𖹭 ˙ — to begin with, finding out you were using him all along was like a punch in the gut, him who thought your relationship was going smooth and steady, only to be crushed down within minutes was not something Kento was willing to go through again. so, he just let’s you go, his ego hurt and heart shattered in pieces.

but then again, if you were with him, it was for a reason, right?

he acts mature, something you quite expect from a man like Kento, yet unable to deny the pull that still lingers, a whole gentleman he is, and in a city like yours finding him again was not impossible.

“hello...” his voice is steady and cool, making your tummy do a flip at the nonchalant and deep tone, “how have you been?” it’s quite obvious his words are forced, and by the way his hands are in his pockets, he wants to leave as soon as possible.

“um, good, yeah” so awkward, and to make it worse, you can’t just stop the way your eyes trail up and down his body, looking as handsome and manly with those khaki pants and blue fitted shirt.

Kento nods again, tapping on the ground with perfectly polished shoes, “good, then, goodbye”

“wait!”

your words come out before you can even stop them, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your top, “can we... grab some coffee? if you’re free, of course”

truly meant to be, how weak you are and how weak Kento is to accept immediately, hopefully, now knowing the whole story, he can convince you to break up with your boyfriend.

˙ . ꒷ satoru . 𖹭 ˙ — another gift left on your doorstep? this is the third that week, a cute yet simple black box with a white bow around it, perhaps another expensive necklace to join the collection your ‘ex’ or better called, fling, left.

the box creates a soft thud as you toss it on the last drawer of your closet, unable to even consider throwing it away, so you better keep them, there were no more reasons behind it, you tried to convince yourself.

then another beep, you have a new voice mail that plays, “hey, sweetheart!” Satoru sounds as nonchalant and fake as ever, “you left a t-shirt at my place, ahaha, don’t you want to come grab it?”

another poor excuse.

“why don’t I better drop it at your place?” silence, “just..., let me know if your boyfriend is there...”

something he was not willing to do was drop by knowing the other man could be there, one to save himself from heartache, and another, to not murder the man with his own bare hands.

another beep, another voice call, “let me talk to you, baby, please, just once, can we talk?” he sounds a bit pathetic but who cares, you managed to get under his skin, wrapped around your finger in such a way that he was not letting you go that easily, “call me”

you couldn’t deny that he was really sweet and attentive, checking one of the anklets he got you now sitting on your skin, perhaps... giving him one call can’t hurt, right?

˙ . ꒷ suguru . 𖹭 ˙ — Mr. nonchalant, you call him, having a grin on his face that makes his eyes wrinkle on the sides, barely raising a hand to greet as you approach — although you tried to avoid him by crossing the road, thing Suguru did too, now face to face while the only one who feels awkward is you, “oh, hi” he says your name as if it was the most common thing he has ever done, rolling off his tongue way too smoothly, “i did not expect to see you around”

what a liar, if you didn’t know him, you could have overlooked the way his fists were clenched and jaw slightly tight, “and who is this?” he points at the man next to you, who Suguru knows every detail of thanks to social media.

“this is my boyfriend...” why were your words so stiff? “what are you doing here?”

“oh, me?” he shrugs, “walking around, buying some groceries, life is amazing” the sarcasm and way his eyes trailed up and down your boyfriend in such disgusted way did not escape your gaze.

“oh, that’s great, yeah... we better get going...”

“wait” there is that smile again, “why don’t you join me for dinner?” you genuinely fear for your boyfriend’s life at that suggestion.

“i don’t think—”

“ah, you wound me” so dramatic, holding a hand to his chest, “aren’t we friends?”

sure, hopefully your boyfriend will make it out in one piece.

˙ . ꒷ choso . 𖹭 ˙ — although his mind screams for not to call you, he still does. the phone feels heavy on his hand the moment he picks it up, dialing the number Choso has began to memorize from how many times he’s type it just to delete it.

straight into voicemail, just great, “doll, we have to talk...” his voice is gruff and low, trying to mask that frustration by sliding his open palm across his face, “...call me”

it’s a little pathetic but he does not care in the slightest, fuck, how much he misses you, your laugh, your smell, your voice, everything, utterly in love with you.

even his brother told him to find someone else, to let you go but he could not, at least not on his own, dragged to a bar by his friends where he oh, so coincidentally finds you again, looking as gorgeous as ever and his chest tightens.

“hey” Choso is even a little flustered to approach you, hoping you don’t push him away, he just wants to chat, really, smiling and ignoring the flutter in his stomach as you actually continue the conversation, perhaps the drinks making everything go smoother, perhaps it’s the atmosphere or just how extremely beautiful you look.

Choso can’t look away, can’t take his eyes off you, and without realizing you’re dancing again as if nothing happened, as if you’re still his, and he really, really prays that you don’t slap him as he leans for a kiss under the bar dim light.

˙ . ꒷ sukuna . 𖹭 ˙ — this was a bad idea, a horrible, terrible idea, who in their right mind even thinks about taking their boyfriend to the club their side piece is a frequent at?

you, you did.

“so this is the guy, huh?” a few drinks in and Sukuna was ready to fight without a care of the show he was putting in, that mean, wicked smirk of his in place as he taps your boyfriend’s shoulder hard enough to make him wobble slightly, “you changed me for that?!” his eyes never left yours, demanding an answer.

“i did not change you! you were not even an option ”

a deep and quite menacing laugh echoes through the now embarrassingly silent club, everyone ready to jump in if things got worse, “oh yeah? that’s so sad, babygirl, because you are mine”

“hey” your boyfriend chimes in, stepping in between you and Sukuna whose hands were on your shoulders, “keep your hands away from my girl”

“listen, pal” Sukuna retorts, his face turned into a sly smile that screams danger, “this is between me and her”

“she is my girlfriend”

and, that did not sit right with Sukuna, as the next thing you see is your boyfriend stumbling back from the pink haired’s punch on the face, and the club bouncer jumping to pull him outside, almost happening in the blink of an eye.

that was just perfect, well done.

and as your hands clean up your boyfriend’s bloodied cheek, and your thoughts trail down to Sukuna, you know you’re fucked.

[g4rvez-r3id]

I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you’re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. ��I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like… pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) ▪ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with the homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always has a hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say it doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly every day during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for a reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who saved you

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

As book!Tom who grew up in an orphanage: he's secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

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[cherienymphe]

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”