#also breaking down and collapsing and falling apart

[dumbdiscodragon]

Tragedy of all time

young man just came back from very tense shopping expedition

and forgot

cookies

[darksturnz]

SNOWED IN

CONTENTS:・smut-heavy plot ・shypervy!matt ・pillow riding・unprotected p in v ・oral (m! & afab! receiving)・creampie ・fluff :3 + more WC: 5.1k

The blizzard outside was relentless, the kind that swallowed the streets of Boston in a suffocating white blanket and made the idea of stepping outdoors laughable. The windows of the apartment were fogged over, and every now and then the wind would whistle against the panes like it was testing the limits of the glass. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that trailed onto the floor, flipping through the channels with little interest.

Behind you, Matt stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. He had that slightly disheveled look about him, like he’d rolled out of bed without fully shaking off sleep—messy hair, hoodie wrinkled, socks mismatched. You didn’t mind. Matt was always a little like that: casual, a bit quiet, but solid and easy to be around.

“You know, I feel like we should be doing something,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Something like what?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

“I don’t know. It’s a snow day! Aren’t snow days supposed to be fun?”

He took a sip of his coffee, giving you a small, lopsided smile. “They’re also for staying inside and not freezing to death. I think we’ve got that part down.”

You sighed dramatically, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “Come on, Matt. Live a little. We’ve been roommates for, what, three years? This is like our… fifth snowstorm together. We’ve gotta mix it up.”

“Mix it up how?”

You sat up, turning to face him with a spark of determination. “We could have a movie marathon. Or play a game. Or—wait, hear me out—we could build a pillow fort.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A pillow fort? Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“Never.” You grinned at him, sliding off the couch and padding over to where he stood. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to. You’re just scared you’ll get out-engineered by me.”

Matt scoffed lightly, but his ears turned pink, something you didn’t notice as you rummaged through the hallway closet for extra pillows.

“Okay,” he said finally, setting his mug down and rubbing the back of his neck. “But don’t blame me if this thing collapses.”

“It won’t collapse if you do what I say.” You shot him a playful wink, which only made the flush on his cheeks deepen.

The two of you got to work, pulling cushions off the couch and draping blankets over chairs to form the roof. Matt quietly followed your lead, handing you supplies and occasionally mumbling things like, “That’s not gonna hold,” or “You’re gonna need more support there.”

At one point, you stood on the coffee table to adjust a blanket, and Matt reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near your back like he was afraid you might fall.

“Careful,” he said softly.

“I’m fine, Dad,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

His hand dropped, and he turned away, pretending to busy himself with straightening a pillow, though the faint redness creeping up his neck gave him away.

When the fort was finally done, it was a masterpiece—cozy and lopsided, with string lights you’d fished out of a storage box giving it a warm glow. You crawled inside first, sitting cross-legged on the floor and patting the space next to you.

“Come on, it’s not a real fort until you’re inside and it manages to stay up.”

He hesitated for a second, then ducked under the blanket and sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space.

“See? Isn’t this better than nothing?” you said, looking over at him with a smile.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It is.”

You handed him a bag of popcorn, your fingers grazing his, and he froze for just a moment before quickly taking it, his eyes fixed firmly on the string lights above.

The two of you spent the evening talking and laughing, the snowstorm forgotten as you swapped stories and debated over which childhood cartoons were the best. Every so often, Matt would glance at you out of the corner of his eye, his heart thudding a little harder when you laughed or smiled at him like he was the only person in the room, which he was but that’s besides the point.

Eventually, though, exhaustion started to creep in. You yawned, stretching your arms overhead.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, crawling out of the fort and standing up.

Matt followed you out, watching as you gathered the blanket you’d been using earlier. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Matt,” you replied, giving him a little wave as you disappeared down the hall.

He lingered in the living room for a moment, staring at the now-empty fort before heading towards the bathroom for a shower.

As you settled into bed, wrapping yourself in the familiar weight of your blankets, you heard it: the faint hum of the shower turning on down the hall. The steady rush of water filtered through the quiet apartment, a soothing yet distant sound that seemed to amplify the stillness of your room. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the sound wash over you like white noise.

But the second your head hit the pillow, the restlessness crept in.

You sighed softly, rolling onto your side, then your back again, punching the pillow as if fluffing it would trick your body into cooperating. But it was no use. Insomnia—your unwelcome, all-too-familiar companion—was already settling in. This was how it went most nights, the routine so predictable it almost felt like a cruel joke.

The weight of exhaustion was there, heavy in your limbs, but your mind refused to follow. Thoughts you couldn’t quite name flitted just out of reach, intangible but persistent, keeping you from slipping into the oblivion of sleep.

Another sigh escaped your lips, quieter this time, like you were trying not to disturb the silence. You could still hear the water running, muffled now, but constant. Matt was probably rinsing away the day, oblivious to the small storm brewing in your head. You wondered absently how he always seemed so calm, so unbothered by the little things that left you tangled up and wide awake.

You rolled onto your side again, clutching the blankets a little tighter, hoping the rhythmic hum of the shower might somehow lull you to sleep. But it wasn’t working. If anything, it was having the opposite effect. Your mind wandered, unbidden, to the thought of Matt in the shower—steam rising, water trailing down his skin—and suddenly, your cheeks burned with a heat that had nothing to do with the blankets wrapped around you.

It was no secret, at least not to yourself, that Matt was incredibly attractive. Add to that his quiet sweetness, his unshakable respectfulness, and it was a combination that left your head spinning more often than you’d care to admit. It wasn’t just you, either—your mutual friends seemed baffled that the two of you had managed to live together for years without any “accidents” during late nights out. But then again, Matt was Matt. Respectful to a fault, impossibly shy, and so unaware of the effect he had on people—especially you—that it almost made you laugh.

Almost. Because right now, the thought of him was doing anything but making you laugh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that might somehow chase away the thoughts swarming your mind. But it didn’t help. The image of Matt—droplets clinging to his collarbone—lingered stubbornly. You shifted restlessly, the blankets suddenly too warm, your heart beating just a little faster than it should.

This is ridiculous, you told yourself, burying your face into the pillow. He’s your roommate. He probably doesn’t even think about you like that.

And yet, some part of you couldn’t ignore the moments. The tiny, fleeting glances. The way he always seemed a little nervous when he stood too close. The way his ears turned red whenever you teased him, like he wasn’t used to being the center of someone’s attention.

You groaned softly, flipping onto your back and staring at the ceiling as if it held some sort of answer. The truth was, you’d been toeing the line with Matt for so long that even thinking about crossing it felt dangerous. But tonight, with the sound of the shower still running and your mind painting pictures you shouldn’t be entertaining, the line felt thinner than ever.

The water finally shut off, breaking through your thoughts. You held your breath, listening as the faint rustle of movement came from the bathroom—Matt grabbing a towel, maybe shaking out his hair. Your cheeks burned again at how vivid your imagination had become, and you pulled the blanket over your face like it might shield you from your own embarrassment.

Moments later, you heard his footsteps padding softly down the hallway. He paused outside your door, long enough that you wondered if he might knock. But instead, he moved on, his door creaking open before clicking softly shut.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the apartment quiet once more. But now, sleep felt even further away, your heart racing with the knowledge that Matt was just down the hall, freshly showered and unaware of the effect he had on you.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, rolling over for what felt like the hundredth time. But as you closed your eyes, his face was still there, vivid and unshakable, lingering in the quiet of the night.

Your body betrayed you completely, heat spreading across your skin as the thoughts grew harder to push away. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the rhythm almost deafening in the stillness of your room. It wasn’t just your cheeks burning anymore—your entire body felt warmer, the blankets suddenly suffocating as you kicked them off in frustration.

Your breathing quickened, shallow and uneven, as if even the thought of him—his damp hair, the curve of his jaw, the way he’d probably look utterly at ease in the privacy of the bathroom—was too much to process. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, trying to quell the restless energy pooling in your stomach, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Your hands clenched at the sheets, gripping them tightly as you stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to think about anything else. But it was impossible. Every time you tried to distract yourself, your mind circled back to him, to the sound of the shower and the way you imagined droplets clinging to his skin, how he’d towel his hair dry in that effortless, boyish way of his.

Another frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and you turned onto your stomach, pressing your face into the pillow. Your body refused to settle, every nerve ending feeling far too aware, far too alive. You hated how easily he got to you, how the mere idea of him could make your body react like this, even when you knew it was pointless to dwell on it.

Still, the thoughts lingered, stubborn and insistent, leaving you flushed and restless in the dark. You lay there for a moment longer, the ache between your legs growing stronger with each passing minute. The image of Matt fresh from the shower was seared into your mind. His scent, cedar wood and vanilla, seemed to linger in the air, taunting you with its closeness.

Unable to bear the torment any longer, you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced as you tiptoed towards your closet, retrieving your old pillow - one you'd secretly come to associate with these forbidden fantasies.

Returning to your bed, you positioned the pillow just so, imagining it was Matt beneath you. Slowly, you straddled it, biting your lip to stifle a moan as you began to grind against the soft surface.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you rode the pillow with increasing fervor, lost in the fantasy of Matt's strong hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. In your mind's eye, his piercing blue gaze locked with yours, filled with equal parts desire and restraint.

"Fuck," you whispered, the word escaping through clenched teeth as the pressure built within you. The fabric of your thin cotton panties grew damp, adding to the delicious friction against your most sensitive places.

Meanwhile, just outside your bedroom door, Matt stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been about to knock on your door, to check if you needed anything before he seriously drifted off to sleep, your insomnia was always something he tried to find little tips and tricks on google to help you with it. But then he heard it - a soft, needy whimper that sent shivers down his spine.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned closer to the door, straining to hear more. And then he heard it again, unmistakable this time: "Matt." Your voice, breathy and laden with desire, calling out his name.

Unable to resist, he slowly turned the knob, cracking open the door just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees. There you were, riding a pillow with wild abandon, your face contorted in pleasure as you chased your release.

Matt's mouth went dry as he watched you, transfixed by the erotic display before him. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, already half-hard from the tantalizing sounds spilling from your lips. He knew he should look away, give you privacy, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the mesmerizing sight of your hips undulating against the pillow.

Unconsciously, one hand drifted to his crotch, palming himself through the thin fabric. A low groan escaped him as he imagined it was his body you were grinding against, his name you were moaning so sweetly. Lost in the fantasy, he began to stroke himself in earnest, his breathing growing heavier with each pass of his hand.

As you continued to ride the pillow, lost in your own world of pleasure, Matt watched with bated breath. His hand moved faster over his now fully erect cock, the wet sounds of your arousal mingling obscenely with his own harsh pants. Sweat beaded on his brow as he struggled to maintain his silence, desperate not to alert you to his presence.

As your climax approached, your movements became more frantic, more urgent. Your fingers dug into the pillow, anchoring yourself as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. "Matt!" you cried out, his name a prayer on your lips as you shattered completely.

At the same moment, Matt felt his own orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in his gut. With a final, strangled groan, he spilled into his hand, his vision going white as intense pleasure consumed him. For a long moment, he remained rooted to the spot, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Then reality came crashing back in. What the hell had he done? Guilt and shame washed over him as he realized the depths of his betrayal. You trusted him, and here he was, spying on you in such an intimate moment, using you for his own twisted gratification.

As the last tremors of your climax faded, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling deliciously spent and satisfied. It was only then that you noticed the faint crack of light seeping in from the slightly ajar bedroom door, illuminating the shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold.

Your gaze snapped up, locking with Matt's wide, guilty eyes. His lips were parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just run a marathon. And there, plain as day, was the unmistakable wet patch darkening the front of his sweatpants, the outline of his still-prominent erection clearly visible.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both stunned into silence by the weight of the revelation. Then, as if in slow motion, Matt's hands emerged from his waistband, his face twisting with a mixture of shame and residual lust. "I..."

"I'm sorry," Matt managed to choke out, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have..." He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the depth of his regret and self-loathing.

He took a step back, ready to flee, to escape the condemning judgment he expected to see in your eyes. But something stopped him - perhaps it was the way you looked at him, not with anger or disgust, but with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"I saw you," he whispered, his gaze dropping to the pillow still clutched between your thighs. "I heard you saying my name, and I... I couldn't stop myself." His hand drifted back to his crotch, cupping himself almost involuntarily. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Your breath caught in your throat at Matt's raw confession, desire warring with trepidation in your chest. This was dangerous territory, crossing lines that could never be uncrossed. Yet the aching need pulsing between your legs urged you forward, drowning out the voice of reason.

Slowly, deliberately, you sat up, letting the pillow fall away as you met Matt's heated gaze. "Show me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Show me what I do to you."

Matt swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. Without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough to free his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Your pulse raced as you drank in the sight of Matt's impressive length, your cunt clenching around nothing with renewed desire. Part of you wanted to reach out, to touch, to taste, but you held yourself back, waiting to see how far he would take this forbidden game.

Matt's hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow pump from base to tip. A shudder ran through him at the contact, his head falling back as he let out a low moan. "Fuck, y/n," he panted, his voice strained with need. "The things I want to do to you..."

His hand moved faster, stroking himself with purposeful intent. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with his harsh breaths and bitten-off curses.

Emboldened by Matt's brazen display, you rose from the bed on trembling legs, closing the distance between you with deliberate slowness. His eyes widened as you drew near, his hand faltering in its rhythm as he took in your small frame, your old band t-shirt brushing against your bare thighs and your face flushed and glistening with sweat.

"Touch me," you demanded softly, guiding his free hand under your shirt and to your breast. "I want to feel you."

Matt obliged eagerly, his calloused palm molding to the supple flesh, thumb grazing over the pebbled peak. Electricity zipped through your veins at the contact, stoking the fire burning low in your belly.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, wrapping slender fingers around his throbbing cock. Matt groaned gutturally, his hips bucking into your grip as you began to stroke him in tandem with his own movements.

Lost in a haze of lust, Matt surrendered to the exquisite sensations assaulting his senses. Your soft hand on his aching cock, the press of your pert breast against his palm, the intoxicating scent of your arousal filling his nostrils - it was almost too much to bear.

With a growl, he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hungry gaze raked over your naked form, drinking in every dip and curve like a man starved. "So fucking beautiful," he rasped, reverent and awestruck.

Lowering his head, he captured one perky nipple between his lips, suckling greedily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Your answering moan spurred him on, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, kneading the firm globe possessively.

Matt's demeanor shifted abruptly, his usual shyness melting away like snow under the summer sun. In its place was a raw, primal dominance that sent shivers racing down your spine.

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice a deep, authoritative rumble. There was no room for argument, no trace of the hesitant boy you knew. This was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he wanted you.

Obediently, you sank to the floor, your heart pounding in your ears as you gazed up at him through lowered lashes. Matt towered over you, his cock jutting proudly.

"Open your mouth," he growled, fisting a hand in your hair and guiding you closer.

Your lips parted automatically, a thrill of submission coursing through you at Matt's commanding tone. He wasted no time, feeding his thick length past your lips and onto your tongue, groaning at the slick heat enveloping him.

"Fuck, yes," he grunted, setting a punishing pace as he fucked your face with abandon. One hand remained tangled in your hair, holding you steady while the other braced against the wall behind you, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust.

Saliva dripped down your chin as you struggled to accommodate his girth, your jaw aching with the strain. But the depravity of it all, the sheer wrongness of being used so roughly by your roommate and best friend, only heightened your arousal.

Your muffled moans vibrated around Matt's cock as he continued to use your mouth for his pleasure, his balls slapping against your chin with each brutal snap of his hips. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you didn't dare pull away, submitting wholly to his dominance.

"That's it, take it all," Matt snarled, his voice guttural and rough with lust. "Bein’ such a good girl f’me, aren't you?"

His filthy words sent liquid heat straight to your core, your neglected cunt clenching around emptiness for the umpteenth time tonight. You needed more, craved the feel of him stretching you open, claiming you in the most primal way possible.

As if sensing your desperation, Matt suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping and bereft.

"Need you so fuckin' bad, been waitin' years for this shit, kid," Matt rasped, his voice dripping with pent-up hunger. Before you could even process his words, he had you lifted off your feet, strong hands gripping your thighs as he tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll.

You bounced slightly on the mattress, the springs creaking under your combined weight. Matt was on you in an instant, pinning you beneath his larger frame as he forced your legs apart, exposing your dripping sex to his ravenous gaze.

"Christ," he panted, his eyes dark with lust. "fuckin’ dripping baby, look at that, already making such a mess on your bed and i’ve yet to touch you."

Matt wasted no time burying his face between your thighs, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds without preamble. “Matt! oh-“ You cried out sharply at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed as he lapped at your essence like a man possessed.

"Mmmph, so sweet," he mumbled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward. His nose nudged your swollen clit, inhaling deeply as if savoring your unique musk. "Could eat this pretty pussy all day long."

Two thick fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your fluttering hole, pumping in and out at a relentless pace. They curled just so, rubbing mercilessly against that sweet spot inside you, coaxing you towards the edge with ruthless efficiency.

"Oh god, Matt!" you keened, your voice high and breathy with need. Your fingers scrabbled desperately at the sheets beneath you, seeking stability as the intense pleasure threatened to consume you whole. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Your hips bucked wildly, grinding shamelessly against his talented mouth as he worked you over with single-minded focus. The obscene wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and his guttural groans of satisfaction.

It was filthy, debauched, everything you'd ever fantasized about late at night when you were alone with nothing but your imagination and your trusty vibrator for company.

Matt's tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, flicking rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves until you saw stars. His fingers never ceased their relentless assault, curling and twisting inside you, stroking along your inner walls with practiced precision.

"M’gonna...gonna come!" you sobbed, teetering on the razor's edge of ecstasy. Every muscle in your body pulled taut, quivering with the force of your impending release. "oh my god"

With a triumphant growl, he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his fingers pistoning furiously. That was all it took to send you hurtling over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave of pure bliss.

As the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, Matt shifted his position, moving to hover over your trembling form. You could feel the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance, smearing the copious juices seeping from your tight hole.

A small puddle of your combined fluids had formed beneath you, staining the sheets with irrefutable evidence of your mutual desire. The musky scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

Matt groaned low in his throat as he rubbed the swollen tip of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself liberally in your essence. The drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive flesh drew another desperate whimper from your lips, your hips canting upwards in silent invitation.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he rasped, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Bet this tight little cunt is just dyin' to be stretched wide on my cock, isn't she?"

"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice hoarse from screaming his name mere moments ago. " need you inside me, been wanting this for so long..."

Your hands roamed restlessly over his broad shoulders and back, mapping the planes of his muscular body. You could feel the tension thrumming through him, the barely leashed control he was exerting over himself.

"Please, Matt," you whimpered again, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles at the small of his back. "Don't make me beg."

“As much as I’d love to hear that shit,” he huffs out and with a guttural moan, Matt surged forward, bottoming out in one powerful thrust. Your velvety walls clenched greedily around him, drawing him deeper into your welcoming heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to maintain some semblance of restraint. "So tight, so perfect. Like you were made just for me."

He began to move then, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back in with bruising force. Each snap of his hips drove you further up the bed, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall in a lewd counterpoint to the obscene squelch of his cock plundering your sopping wet cunt.

The pressure built steadily within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each punishing thrust. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red welts in their wake as you clung to him desperately, urging him deeper still.

"Harder-please," you demanded breathlessly, tilting your hips to meet his increasingly erratic strokes. "wanna feel you for days."

Your plea seemed to shatter the last vestiges of his control. With a feral snarl, Matt flipped you over onto your stomach, hauling your ass up into the air. He kicked your legs apart with his knee, opening you up completely to his hungry gaze.

"Gonna ruin this sweet little cunt," he promised darkly, delivering a sharp smack to your upturned rear. "Fill you up 'til you're leakin' with my cum."

"Yes, yes, fuck!" you chanted deliriously, pushing back against him with wild abandon. Each brutal thrust sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing up your spine, stoking the inferno building in your core.

The wet slap of skin on skin echoed obscenely throughout the room, punctuated by your loud cries and his grunts. Sweat dripped down his brow, plastering stray locks of hair to his forehead as he rutted into you like a madman.

"M’close," he bit out through clenched teeth, his movements growing increasingly erratic. "Come with me, baby. Wanna feel this tight pussy milking me dry."

With a strangled cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you like a tsunami. Your walls clamped down vice-like around his pistoning length, rippling along every inch as you rode out the waves of ecstasy.

The sensation proved too much for Matt. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside your cunt. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, marking you irrevocably as his.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply basking in the afterglow as you struggled to catch your breath. Finally, Matt rolled to the side, gathering you close and tucking your head beneath his chin.

"That was...fuck," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your sweat-damp temple. "Best damn snow day of my life."

The two of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined as you slowly drifted back to reality. The world outside continued to rage, wind howling and snow piling up, but here in the cocoon of Matt's arms, all was warm and peaceful.

As your breathing evened out, you felt a strange sense of contentment wash over you. This was more than just a casual hookup born of opportunity and circumstance - there was a connection here, something real and profound.

Matt seemed to sense it too. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize your scent. "Let me stay tonight," he whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable but this time in a way you'd never heard before. "wanna hold you 'til morning."

A sleepy smile curved your lips as you nodded against his chest. "Stay," you mumbled, already feeling yourself slipping towards slumber. "Wanna wake up with you."

Matt pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his strong arms tightening around you possessively. "Sleep, sweetheart. I got you."

As consciousness faded away, you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so safe, so cherished. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new uncertainties - but for now, wrapped up in the warmth of Matt's embrace, everything was exactly as it should be.

And you could finally sleep.

AUTHORS NOTE: i’ve said it before but thank you guys again so so much for 200+ followers :,) i hope you enjoyed.

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[wileys-russo]

in the blink of an eye (2) II a.putellas

part one in the blink of an eye (2) II a.putellas

"it has been years, time to forgive yourself."

eli's words had been playing on your mind for much longer than you cared to admit, despite the chaotic dumpster fire mess that your life was that really should have meant you were at capacity for things to overthink about.

like your mind ever listened to you though, or missed a chance to play a wonderfully wickedly cruel trick.

"i wanna pick!" speaking of.

"vale. you can pick your clothes nena, but remember it is hot outside sí?" you smiled, honestly far too exhausted from yet another sleepless night dealing with the poor three year olds endless night terrors to have the energy to argue with her over what she wanted to wear.

you knew this coffee date was important but you also knew mariposa's needs came before anything, and building up her independence was surely not a bad thing?

"posie. no!" you laughed as the girl returned, rubbing your hands down your face and shaking your head as moments later the three year old toddled back out, wrestling furiously to try and pull her head through the leg hole of a pair of jean shorts.

"you look like a wrestler." you teased, tugging the shorts off and smiling at the annoyed scowl which painted her face. "don't laugh!" the girl huffed, smacking your leg with a scowl and crossing her arms.

"we need to leave soon princesa, can i pick por favor? you can pick tomorrow, promesa!" you squatted down and held up your pinky, the three year old giving in with a nod and a grunt, locking her pinky with yours as you both leaned in and kissed the others finger.

"can't break it." the girl huffed as you nodded, her surprised giggles filling the air as you snatched her up, carrying her back into her makeshift bedroom upside down by her ankles.

"down tia! down!" the girl demanded, collapsing into a fit of giggles as you dropped her on her bed, careful she didn't land on her neck as you did so.

you smiled as posie grabbed her favorite bear, starting to sing a little tune to him as you rummaged through her wardrobe picking out an outfit. but suddenly, the singing stopped, then you heard a little sniffle and your head whipped around, features softening as you watched her tiny hand wipe away a stray tear.

"hey hey hey bebita, qué pasa?" you were sat beside her in a flash, picking her up and sitting her on your lap as her face hid itself in your chest, one of your hands cradling her head and the other gently rubbing her back.

"mami's song." the girl managed out as your heart cracked and you squeezed your own eyes shut at the emotions which poured down on you like someone had cast a storm cloud above your head.

"oh." you managed out, her little body starting to shake with an awful broken sob, her tears staining your shirt and you adjusted your position slightly, squeezing her tightly and mumbling assurances over and over in her ear.

the same words you'd repeat to her every night you'd wake up to hear her screaming, horrid wailing filling the apartment as you'd fall out of bed and sprint to be by her side, taking her in your arms and gently shushing her.

by now it was routine she just slept by your side in your bed, tiny fist curled into your shirt, grip unrelenting and desperate, night terrors always lingering just over her head like a thundercloud waiting to burst with rain.

posie had always been in your life from the very moment hers began. you were her one and only tia, your older sister your only sibling and her husband an only child who was long estranged from his parents.

when posie was a baby she could be rocked in a singular arm, your mami cooing and fussing over her just like she had when both you and your sister natalia were her own babies.

these days your mami suffered from arthritis and could hardly lift the tv remote let alone a wiggling three year old, her fingers gnarled and wrists stiff, a result of working far too many hours for far too many years just to keep a roof over your head when your father left one day to get milk and never came back.

being a tia wasn't a job you took lightly, and despite the fact you'd moved away from barcelona years ago it never stopped you making as many trips over to see her once she was born, or your sister and brother in law bringing her to madrid to see you every few weeks once she was old enough to travel.

her cheeks were always rosy, never without a bright but gummy smile plastered on her face, always giggling and babbling, desperate for any sort of attention and your sister and her husband gave it to her by the bucket load.

but when the accident happened, your role in one another's life was changed forever.

"miss her. miss mami! and papi!" posie choked out once her sobs had turned to shallow gasps and her head rested on your shoulder, tiny little fists gripping your shirt as if one wrong move and you would disappear entirely right in front of her eyes.

"i know nena, i know. i miss your mami too." you whispered out with words barely audible, swallowing a sob of your own which started to claw its way up your throat, tears banking up in the corner of your eyes and threatening to spill over as you fought to pretend they weren't there.

lips lingering on the side of her head with a few gentle kisses, you were unable to stop the small smile curling into your lips as your niece wiped her nose on your shirt a few moments later as if you were a big human tissue.

"have to see the lady?" the girl asked quietly, grip on you loosening just slightly as she wiped her nose again this time on her bear which you made a mental note to wash later.

"sí, we have to see ana. but she is nice to you, no?" you rubbed the girls back who nodded. "and, you get cake nena." you poked at her stomach softly as her smile returned, pad of your thumb tenderly and carefully wiping away the tears which had begun to crust the corner of her eye.

"when we get home tonight we can do whatever you want. dress ups, fashion show, tea party, make cookies, watch tv, anything!" you promised, slowly moving her off of your lap and gently prying off her fingers which still gripped to the shirt you now needed to change.

"watch mami and papi's video?" posie asked hopefully as you tried not to let the way your heart twisted show on your face, nodding with a pained smile, bouncing her gently in your lap.

"sí bebita, we can watch mami and papi's video." you promised, the tape of your sisters wedding that posie had stumbled across a couple of weeks ago practically living on your tv screen since the day she'd first watched.

your own mami had urged against it, warning it might bring up some feelings which were far too big for a three year old to process. but you were still learning how to say no to the small girl and when she hit you with the puppy dog eye and pout combination, you were done for.

but to everyones surprise not a single tear was shed as posie sat and watched the ceremony which wed her mother and father, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in far too long as the moment it finished she was demanding you play it again and a routine of sorts fell into place.

really both you and your therapist were certain it was a coping mechanism, but theres no real way to explain that to a three year old who had lost both of her parents in the blink of an eye.

with posie finally dressed and ready you'd packed the same blue little backpack you now knew to take everywhere with you and hoisted her up on your hip, locking the front door after you.

you smiled kindly at the older woman who stepped into the elevator after you, who wiggled her fingers at posie in greeting as the three year old hid her face shyly in your neck and the woman gave you an amused smile.

"vale. this is not rocket science idiota, you can do this." you mumbled to yourself as you strapped posie into her car seat, tugging her thumb out of her mouth every few seconds as she settled for sucking on the ear of her teddy instead.

another coping mechanism.

you sighed in relief as finally you managed to slot the lock of the belt in, the stupid thing far too complicated for a seatbelt but at least you knew there wasn't a chance posie was getting it undone with how long it took you to get it locked in.

"listo?" "sí, vamos!"

~

"-and a job?" ana asked, firmly but not unkindly as you were quick to nod, pausing to wipe posie's face with a napkin where she'd decide to smush most of the cake around her mouth rather than in it.

you glanced up apologetically as you rummaged around in the little blue backpack for the wet wipes, ana too busy scribbling something down to notice as you grabbed out the pack and yanked one out.

"tastes good!"

"how can you taste the cake if you wear it and do not eat it?" you teased causing the three year old to giggle, gently holding her head still as you wiped away the chocolate smeared around her mouth.

"lo siento ana, what did you ask?" you grabbed out a little wooden puzzle for posie to play with, a happy squeal leaving her mouth as she sat herself down by your feet to fiddle around with it.

"oye! the ground is dirty posie." you scooted your chair back and slipped your arms under her elbows, pulling her up and onto your lap, settling the puzzle down on the table in front of her as she made no move to argue but rather slumped comfortably against you.

"a job, steady income." ana reminded with a small smile as you nodded.

"sí, at a little clothing shop not far from the apartment. i know it is not much but it is three days a week and that is as much as i can organise childcare for her until we've settled in a bit, found a routine." you nervously fiddled with your rings under the table.

"hey, a start is a start. i want to work with you so that this works for her, so that she is as best looked after as she can be and stays with family." ana assured quietly as you exhaled shakily, giving her a small but uncertain nod.

"i know these normally feel stressful, and i can see you are nervous chica. but that is why i asked we meet here and not in my office, so that it felt a little bit less formal." ana gave you a kind smile as the tension in your shoulders melted away a little.

now slightly more relaxed you answered her questions with a touch more confidence, nodding and taking down your own notes as she explained what else she'd need to see before she could sign off the papers and take everything to family court.

"you said you grew up here, sí? you have family here? friends?" ana questioned as you hesitated before nodding. "some, a lot i lost touch with when i...moved." you forced a smile as ana nodded and scribbled something down.

"do you know her? she has been looking over to us for the last ten minutes." ana tilted her chin behind you as you frowned curiously and turned your head to glance over your shoulder.

though as you did and you caught the eye of your assumed spectator, your blood ran cold and your body froze, rigid and tense all over again like you were made of scrap metal.

her hair was different, longer, blonder, and tied up in a neat ponytail. she looked like she'd just come from the gym in bike shorts and an oversized shirt, yet you didn't even need to see her figure hidden beneath it so be able to draw it from memory with your eyes closed.

her face was shadowed by a faded blue nike baseball cap which was tucked on her head, and though her eyes were covered by a pair of black expensive looking sunglasses, you could feel them peering right into your soul and it had your heart hammering in your chest.

"old friend?" just as suddenly as alexia had appeared it was as if you blinked and suddenly she was gone, merely a faceless figure in the back of your mind, haunting your most tender and endearing of memories like a ghost.

only you didn't need someone to pinch you to know you hadn't been dreaming, her gaze seared into your forehead as you caught a flash of blonde hair duck around the corner and you frowned.

"sí...something like that."

~

as alexia hurried around the corner, feet smacking the pavement with hollow thumps, cursing herself both for running away and for the fact she'd done so before her coffee was ready so the entire trip was now voided useless all together.

alexia was angry, burning and boiling and seething like a wave at its peak ready to come crashing and smashing down toward shore.

no, she was upset, agonizing over what could have been, what should have been, as if someone had just grabbed her heart in their fist and squeezed as if it were a stress ball.

no, she was disappointed. gut wrenchingly, soul crushingly, undeniably, disappointed. fixated on a scene she'd imagined a million times over in her head and yet the real thing couldn't have been more different if she tried.

or was it perhaps, that she was frustrated? heartbroken? torn up? hollow? numb? jealous?

emotional, alexia was overwhelmingly emotional.

which is how she found herself pulling into a driveway which was once hers but no longer, head covered by the hood of her jacket, baseball cap tilted downward masking her face.

with her heart hammering in her chest and stomach queasy with an apprehensive sense of heightened anxiety she hurried up the driveway as if you might jump out from the bushes at any second, ready to yelp and laugh like all of this just a cruel prank or a sick joke.

with knuckles tense and ready to pound themselves against the faded blue of the front door, alexias hand curled to form a fist, however before she could even lift her arm it was swinging open.

"hermana? what-" not letting her sister finish her sentence alexia was already barreling inside with a huff, leaving the younger girl to roll her eyes at her dramatics and close the door after her, grumbling something under her breath

"mami! mami? mami!" alexia called out, eyes flickering rapidly around the room trying to spot her, spinning around on her heels as a hum sounded, the older woman staring right back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"you will never guess who i have just seen." the blonde grunted with a shake of her head, alba taking a seat at the table watching on curiously. "your ex almost fiance?" the younger girl guessed, biting into an apple as apples head swiveled so fast it should have flown on.

"eh? cómo lo supo?" alexia managed to spit out in shock as her sister chuckled. "lucky guess hermana." alba smiled taking another bite of the apple, crunch echoing around the room and making alexias eye twitch.

"qué pasa hija?" eli gained her attention again, alexia spinning back around with another huff, shaking her head and starting to pace back and forth. "here we go again." alba mumbled under her breath with a roll of her eyes.

"so she says no to marrying me, no to a family, no to a future. but then i see her and-and-and-" alexia stuttered though it was one fueled by anger, not nerves.

"-and we break up. a few months goes by and she moves away to madrid, a year and she loses my number, time passes and i do not have to see her face in front of me for nearly three years and now-" alexia paused to scoff, throwing

"-now she has done all of that which she refused me, but with another woman! she has a baby, a family, maybe she is married? quién demonios sabe!" alexia laughed in shock, dragging her hands down her face and pausing for a moment, giving the threadbare rug beneath her feet a brief pause of respite before right away resuming her furious pacing back and forth across it.

"i thought you were over her? ale it has been four years since you broke up." alba sighed, immediately falling silent at the venomous glare sent her way by the older blonde across the room, holding her hands up in surrender.

"and the other woman? la nueva mujer? she is too old for her! parece una abuela." alexia spat, eyebrows furrowed angrily as she practically threw herself down in a chair, head resting on her chin and eyes moving slowly to glare at her younger sister who bit down on her apple with yet another obnoxious crunch.

"you are jumping to a fast conclusion hija, i thought i raised you to use your head." eli chimed in when it seemed her eldest daughters rant had come to a ceasefire, alexia instead seething silently in her seat and scowling off into the distance.

"i saw her mami. i saw her. y sé lo que vi!" alexia grunted, biting the inside of her cheek and wishing as she could yank her heart from her chest and toss it as far away as possible.

alexia loathed that alba was right.

it had been almost four years and yet you never quite left her mentally the way you'd run away physically, always and forever occupying a sliver of her mind, sometimes pushed right to the back and forgotten temporarily.

then she'd see something, smell something, ignite some sort of sense and every hair on her body would stand on end, flooded with a bitter nostalgia.

if it be something as simple as a bunch of brightly colored poppies in a storefront, the melodic chime of a bell that sounded horrendously close to your laughter.

sometimes when she was alone and her mind drifted to you alexia could near feel the ghost of your touch lingering at the back of her neck.

it was as if with her eyes closed she could still imagine your slender digits raking through her hair, nails scratching ever so lightly against her scalp, a soft hum reverberating around her head where you'd have heard the snippet of a song in the elevator not quite able to place what it was.

but then reality sunk in, you weren't there, you couldn't be, and then the phantom fingertips turned cold and haunting, mocking alexia for letting her guard down, allowing a thick fog of delusion to deceive her.

humiliation seeping into the footballers bones she was shaking her head and hands about as if to ward off a bad spirit, the apparition of your false touch burning her skin with a cruel brand of what once was, and seemingly never would be again.

"i saw her too hija." eli added, focused again on chopping the peppers in front of her with a methodical precision.

"perdón? you saw her? you knew she was back? i cannot-mami when!" alexia spluttered out in a state of shock, eli's eyes never raising to meet the hazel ones which raked over her accusingly.

"when we were at the store. mami called out to her, spoke with her." alba chimed in, apple finished now and core sat abandoned in a tissue in front of her as the girl leaned back in her seat with a sigh.

"mami? es esto verdad?" alexias head swiveled back to the older woman who nodded with a hum.

"sí, her hair has grown out. she suits the natural look more, but she has always been a pretty girl." eli spoke as if referring to an old family friend, and not the sore spot ex flame of her eldest daughter who danced through alexias subconscious more than she would ever dare to admit.

"mami!" was all the blonde could manage to splutter with a scoff of disbelief. "vimos al bebé. yours would have been cuter!" alba added in with a shrug, eli looking up this time and fixing the brunette with an evil look.

"no metas a esa niña en esto, lo sabes bien!" eli warned firmly pointing the knife in her daughters direction who mumbled an apology and suddenly excused herself to the bathroom.

"mami..." alexia sighed tiredly, dragging her hands down her face and struggling to process everything. "her eyes hija, they were sad. she looked as if she could use a friend, a real one." eli stated solemnly as alexia peeked out through her fingers with a frown.

though when the silence grew longer eli looked up again, the very slightest raise of her eyebrow all that was needed for alexia to catch onto where she was going with this.

"qué? a mí?" the blonde choked out in shock, arms falling limply by her side as eli shrugged. "an old friend." the woman turned and opened the fridge as alexias mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"an old friend? mami i asked her to marry me and she said no!" alexias body shot up from the table as her fist thumped angrily against the wood, eli sighing as she returned with an armful of vegetables.

"sí. but that was four years ago nena, and how long are you going to keep that memory locked prisoner in your head? you have been wanting closure for a long time, no?" eli questioned and not untruthfully as alexias chest tightened, hackles up and a defensive quip loaded and ready to fly from the tip of her tongue.

but then there it was, the ever so slight beat of hesitation, the pause all she needed to let the dust settle for a moment, the noisy hustle in her mind quietening down for just a second.

"you are angry, upset, confused. you have questions mija, and she will have answers." "mami, i can't." "you can't hija, or you won't?"

~

"qué hago aquí? idiota."

alexia scolded herself and exhaled shakily as the car engine shut off, silence around her somehow even noisier than the traffic just a few feet away, her limbs operating with a mind of their own as her keys slipped into her pocket, one foot hitting the asphalt.

this was beyond a dumb idea, this was borderline psychotic.

and yet, alexia moved forward, one step, two steps, three steps and then four. her feet moved again of their own accord as her car flashed and locked behind her, the warm evening air engulfing her body which felt doused in an invisible cold sweat.

five steps, six steps, seven, eight, nine, she'd crossed the road now, stood outside your old apartment building with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie.

this was a horrible idea. a terrible, no good, poorly timed, not at all thought out and overall unacceptable use of her time.

yet her feet continued on. ten steps, eleven, twelve, thirteen and fourteen and she'd reached the elevator.

her eyes darted around nervously as if she was under attack, looking for an enemy she couldn't see but knew lay in wait, silent and deadly, ready to strike the very moment a crack in her walls appeared big enough for it to slither through.

the elevator closed and suddenly so did alexia's ability to breathe. the small room grew tinier, walls closing in, a wicked voice in her head urging her forward, its much quieter more rational sibling slain and silent, corpse rotting away in the back of her head.

then, a ding, doors open, her lungs filled with air and she trembled, a cautious step forward, one more ever so slight beat of hesitation.

but then, off she went. fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and by number twenty five she was in front of your door.

well, really it could be anyones door.

this was a shot in the dark, an idea fired from a rusty old pistol which no matter which way alexia pointed it always seemed to end up trained to her own head, finger on the trigger and whatever consequence to come from pulling it hers to suffer.

you hadn't lived here in years so why was alexia so sure you were there? a mere few feet away as her shoes suddenly felt made from stone, her body rooted to the ground in front of the door she used to hold the key to, a key she kept on a chain right next to the one for your heart.

alexia wasn't sure if she'd ever returned that key, or if you still had one to hers, an invisible string tugging her feet a few inches closer and now if alexia even breathed too loudly she was terrified you'd hear from the other side.

all it would take was one second of bravery, a glimpse of courage, or perhaps...a moment of utter utter stupidity.

and yet, her knuckles rapped against the door and though meek the noise echoed around alexia's head like a gunshot, her knees suddenly wobbling and the panic button smashed in her mind, alarms blaring and neurons firing into overdrive.

leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run.

but the very moment alexia exhaled, left foot pointed ever so slightly outward and ready to back away and leave this most horrendous idea behind her, the door swung open and every last gasp of breath was snatched from her lungs.

"alexia?"

[xoxochb]

breaking no nut November with percy but doing it in secret because he can't lose the bet he made with his buddies but he also can't leave his girlfriend alone for a month so he sneaks around to love her 😙

anon… I’m tenderly kissing your lips for this

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you can’t fucking function properly like this. surely not with the way your legs are practically on fire, begging you to let them give out and collapse onto the sheets. and your eyes, your poor eyes, with your mascara all smudged from tears, you’re basically going blind at this point— stars clouding your entire vision. you attempt to form a coherent sentence, or at least just a few words that could be put like a puzzle into a new sentence but it’s only disorganized words that have no significant meaning to the current situation before you. percy holds a firm grim on your thighs to keep them parted as he ruthlessly takes in your sweet nectar

between guttural moans you manage, “perce, I thought- ah- what about- mhm- your bet?”

you feel him laugh from inside you, sending a shiver down (or more so up) your spine. you knew he didn’t care about the bet he made with his friends, he claimed “a month is far too long without fucking you” and you’re not apart of the bet so who were you to say no to him? but again— you couldn’t help but feel worried your november trysts would be magically discovered by one of his idiot friends and he would lose the bet and be all disappointed. this doesn’t mean you’d stop him

his soft tongue thrusts in and out of you smoothly, swirling over your folds as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he’s like a madman, truly, acting like he hasn’t seen you in weeks— which is the biggest lie ever, currently before this, he had seen you only two hours ago. your back arches off the bed as you determinedly continues to hungrily suck your clit. you’re not even sure how you’ve survived this long, you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move at this point, everything feels utterly numb. and it’s all because a fucking bet. with one last swirl of his tongue over you, he pulls his head out from between your thighs to look at your disoriented self: messy hair sprawled along the pillows, sweat beads streaming down your skin, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, and the rapid rise and fall of your bare chest as you try to regain composure

“a month,” he scoffs “who do they think I am?”

[norikuna]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS! — jujutsu kaisen

prologue. → some not so meet-cutes 😁 who said love was easy?

pairings. jjk x gn!reader choso, toji, geto, nanami, sukuna, gojo.

warnings+. no curse/jujutsu au, slightly suggestive for toji's. attempted vehicular injuries but gojo's fine w/ it as long as he gets your number. some alcohol mentions. someone has a nosebleed.

word count. 6k! song inspiration. let me in (20 cube) — enhypen

a/n. this is saur silly, and i wrote this super quickly so it's not proofread.

CHOSO KAMO ✶ just trust me bro ... ?!

there's a man in your apartment.

at first, your brain short-circuits with options. scream, call the police, throw your used dinner dishes. why not all three in rapid succession?

it's nine at night, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed with a cozy throw and a criminal minds marathon. instead, fate or your carelessness in leaving the door unlocked, has gifted you with this stranger who just walked in.

this man didn't sneak in, mind you. no, this stranger barrelled through the door, let out a soft groan as he ran into your dining table. he then muttered a soft and polite 'excuse me' before plopping himself down onto your couch like he'd paid three months of rent.

and now? he's sitting there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. like he's contemplating the futility of existence, or whether he left the stove on at home. you can't quite see his face yet, just the curtain of messy chestnut hair falling over it.

what you can see is that he's wearing an oversized violet sweatshirt that's swallowing him whole, and right over dark cargo pants and scuffed combat boots.

well, now what?

your heart is hammering as you edge closer, gripping a fork behind your back like it's king arthur's sword. he's muttering something, no. a name?

you lean slightly, straining to hear.

"...yuuji, when i c-catch you."

but finally, the stranger looks up at you, as if he's searching your face for this 'yuuji.'

big hazel eyes stare up at you, bleary and glassy, and his lips are pouting, pale pink and peeled raw from where teeth have gnawed into them. his cheeks are slightly flushed, and he smells faintly of cheap alcohol.

great, the strange man in your living room is also drunk. you wonder where your phone is.

"uh, hey. are you one of yuuji's friends?" and the stranger's voice is absurdly deep, but incredibly shy, "can you get him? is he in his room?"

your brows furrow, "huh, who's yuuji? what room?"

the man blinks slowly, and he hiccups. a tiny, almost cute sound — and then he frowns, "yuuji? my little brother? lives here, obviously?" he gestures broad hands around vaguely, loosely.

"no. i live here."

his wide eyes scan the room. your glossy magazine on the table, a cup of hot chocolate next to your laptop which still glows with the not-so-legal streaming site. but you can see the very moment that the stranger's face freezes, like he's just been slapped in the face, "oh."

"yeah."

the stranger groans, dragging his hands down his flushed face and this only makes his clingy strands stick up in strange places, "oh no. oh, man. i — uh, think i'm in the wrong apartment."

"you think?"

"i was just tryna' find yuuji's place," he mutters, his words slurred but earnest, "we live, like, two floors down. but it's all the same, right? like...layout-wise?"

you open your mouth to argue, then close it. technically, he’s not wrong about the layout, but that’s hardly the point. "why didn’t you check the apartment number?"

"because i’m…" he pauses, thick brows knitting together like they’re searching for answers his brain won’t provide. finally, he lands on, "tipsy. yeah, tipsy. i actually really hate drinking, by the way. it was some stupid bet with my little brother."

you lift the fork a little higher, its tines gleaming under the dim overhead light. "so you broke into my apartment."

"hey, i didn’t break in!" he protests, his voice thick with indignation that doesn’t quite match the circumstances, "your door was open."

"unlocked," you grind out, ignoring the mildly adorable pout on his flushed lips,"not an invitation."

the man has the decency to look sheepish, one hand reaching up to scratch at his neck. "uh… yeah. my bad."

his bad? that’s the best he’s got? not a sorry for terrifying you! or a sorry for making you think you’re about to feature in a criminal minds special! but before you can really get going on the lecture building on your tongue, there’s a soft thud.

you glance down. your cat, the fluffy little traitor, is rubbing affectionately against the leg of this random man, purring like an old motorbike. meanwhile, the stranger just lights up, crouching down to scratch behind your cat’s ears with absurd gentleness.

"hey, buddy," he says softly, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. and damn it, he’s got dimples.

"what’s wrong with you? traitor," you hiss at your cat, who just looks far too content in the man's arms.

the stranger looks back up at you with those wide, hazel eyes, his head tilting to the side. "i’m choso, by the way."

"i didn’t ask."

"you’re holding a weapon," choso observes, eyes flicking to your hand.

"it’s a fork," you snap. "and you’re in my apartment."

"touché," he mutters, slouching back into your couch like it’s his own. he looks too tired to argue before he starts rambling, words tumbling out in uneven waves, "look, i’ll leave, okay? sorry for...uhm, being here. it’s just been a rough day, y’know? my brother — he's my little brother, he dared me to drink, and i hate drinking. then the cab driver tried to scam me, and i kinda gave up on the bet and wanted to go home. i don’t even know how i ended up here."

he waves a hand around like the universe itself is to blame for the situation.

you should still be mad. and you are. sort of. but it’s hard to stay furious when the guy in your living room is practically drowning in a sweatshirt two sizes too big, cradling your cat like it’s a lifeline. there’s something weirdly endearing about him, even if your fight-or-flight response still has a foot on the gas.

"fine," you sigh. "but if you've left anything drunk and gross on my couch, you’re coming back tomorrow to clean it."

choso’s face brightens like you just granted him parole. "i didn’t, swear i didn't, but yeah. deal. you’re cool. what’s your name?"

you hesitate, fork still in hand. "why?"

"so i know who to thank when i hopefully sober up. i’m really sorry for scaring you."

"alright, choso." you point to the door. "out. and if i catch you here again uninvited, i’m calling the cops."

he staggers to his feet, towering but unsteady, still cradling your cat. "uh, can i…"

"no," you interrupt. "put mr pickles down."

he pouts but complies, setting the cat down like he’s handling precious cargo. as he shuffles to the door, he glances back, scratching the back of his head, "thanks for not stabbing me with the fork."

"yet, choso," you deadpan.

with that, he stumbles into the hallway, and you slam the door shut before finally locking it properly this time. it’s only then that you notice the little silver bracelet lying on the couch.

maybe when he's also sober, you’ll find him two floors down. not because you’re curious about him or anything. it’s just the responsible thing to do.

probably.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✶ got a mean laugh, huh ?

you'd just wanted a burger. greasy, cheesy, unapologetically unhealthy — a perfect antidote to a day of endless meetings and passive-aggressive emails from your annoying boss.

what you didn’t want was to make an absolute spectacle of yourself in the middle of a restaurant.

but here you were, ever the universe's favourite clown and plaything.

it started innocently enough: you’d been sitting behind him in this faux-american diner, cheap enough that it didn't break your last paycheck.

minding your business and just sitting behind some two loud-talking men, one of them broad and terrifyingly large in a too-tight black gym shirt and the kind of wide-legged pants only men with way too much confidence could pull off.

then he started making strange noises.

at first, you tried to ignore it. who were you to interfere? but then it got louder — a gruff, guttural wheezing that sounded suspiciously like a man choking on his fries. your heroic instincts (and latent secondhand embarrassment) kicked in.

what can you say? you were a natural born avenger. you didn’t think. you acted.

scrambling out of your booth, you darted behind him, arms awkwardly looping around his absurdly muscular torso. it took more than one attempt — why was he built like a human brick wall?

but you managed to start the worst heimlich maneuver known to mankind, trying to remember your hazy first aid training from high school.

"hold still, man!" you grunted, struggling for leverage, and trying not to collapse backwards. "i got this!"

except he didn’t hold still. he started laughing. loud, throaty, barking laughs that only made the situation worse.

"stop squirming, you’re gonna end up choking even more —oh my god, are you fuckin' laughing?!"

"hey, i’m —" the stranger wheezed between gasps, not choking, just laughing so hard his voice cracked, "i’m not choking!"

you froze, mortified, arms still awkwardly wrapped around his incredibly chiselled torso. "you’re...not?"

"tch, nah." his voice was deep, almost lazy, as he twisted his head back to smirk at you, sharp green eyes gleaming with amusement. "but yer' real determined. if i was choking, i’d probably survive. maybe."

you stumbled back, cheeks flaming, trying to pretend the floor might swallow you whole. trying to pretend that someone didn't pull out their phone to record you.

the expensive-looking guy sitting across from him — a man in a sharp, well-pressed brown suit who clearly didn’t belong in a place with laminated menus and sticky booths, just sipped his coffee with an air of quiet disdain.

"i always said you got an ugly-ass laugh, toji," the man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "could ya not traumatise strangers for five minutes?"

"hey, it’s not my fault i got jumped," toji said, shrugging lazily, and the motion made his shirt ride up just enough to reveal a scar slicing across his ridiculously defined abs. "not that i’m complaining. i got humped by someone gorgeous in public. call that a good day, hah."

your brain short-circuited, trying not to stare at the light dusting of hair over his abdomen, "i wasn’t - humping, oh my god, i thought you were choking! i was just trying to be be a good samaritan."

you backed away slowly, trying to act like the horrifyingly awkward scene behind you had not just happened. you didn’t even spare toji a glance, though the smugness radiating off his gorgeous, stupidly muscular frame was practically tangible.

you grabbed your milkshake, your only ally in this tragedy, and downed it with all the dignity of a medieval knight trying to poison themselves with wolfsbane. the cold, creamy sweetness slid down your throat, like you were trying to drown yourself in the sugary oblivion. which you were.

"well," you muttered bitterly, setting the empty glass down with a clink, "i'm gonna disappear from here forever. just gonna...vanish." you made the universal gesture of disappearing: both hands dramatically flailing as if you were casting an invisibility spell.

"wait, hey, give me your number!"

the voice, deep and annoyingly gravelly, floated over the booth like a warm breeze. you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing in disbelief. no way. no freaking way.

"you’re joking." you turned slowly to glance back at him, at this toji. the guy in the suit across from him — who had been watching this whole disaster unfold with the kind of expression you’d imagine someone gets when they’re asked to hold a million-dollar briefcase during a hostage situation, was now doing the mental equivalent of sinking into his booth like a man deeply embarrassed.

"swear 'm not," toji insisted, leaning back in his own seat, "what if i really do choke and i need ya to save me?"

SUGURU GETO ✶ love at first nosebleed !

you were exactly where you needed to be: right in the thick of the mosh pit at one of your favourite festivals of the year. one that you had scrounged together enough dollars for an overpriced ticket out, all perfect to spend a night out in the cool, desert night air.

the mosh pit was packed. like wall-to-wall bodies, as though you were wading through a sea of waving limbs.

without any warning, the crowd surged forward in a wave of bodies, just as the lead singer of this band threw a rose into the crowd and you squealed. throwing your arms up to steady yourself, and of course, you managed to send your elbow directly into the guy standing behind you.

at first, there's a sharp grunt of surprise, swiftly followed by a:

"hey, what the fuck!"

you turned around in a panic, your breath caught in your throat as you saw the aftermath of your unfortunate swing. oh, blood. it wasn’t just a little trickle, either. it was a full-on fountain.

the stranger's hands were pressed to his face, but you could already see the crimson streaks spilling through his fingers. and as much as your brain screamed oh my god, what have you done?, your first thought was also, holy shit, this guy is gorgeous.

tall. broad. jawline that could cut glass. his hair was jet-black, falling messily to his shoulders, and when he looked up at you, you saw it. his eyes, pretty.

they were a pale, unnatural shade of purple, sharp and disarming, the kind of thing you only saw in movies. or at least, you thought you only saw them in movies, because now you were staring into them, and the moral compass on your shoulder stomped some sense back into you.

"oh god, i’m so, so sorry," you stammer, your hands flying up in a panic. you just didn't know whether to offer him a napkin or your life savings, so you just stand there like a deer caught in headlights, doing the world’s most unhelpful impression of a living, breathing human being, "i didn’t mean to, i didn’t, oh, that's a lotta blood —"

he waves you off nonchalantly, and you immediately thought, what kind of person is so chill about being impaled in the face?

"don’t worry about it,” he said, voice smooth as butter, if a bit nasally, considering the massive nosebleed that makes you feel a bit faint. the kind of nonchalant tone that should not be coming from someone who had blood pouring from his nose like an open tap, "not your fault, really."

"i...i don’t know what to do," you mutter, your hands still flailing around awkwardly. you didn’t have a napkin, or a first aid kit, or any idea what you were doing. hell, you weren’t even sure if the guy was okay without medical attention.

"nah, seriously, chill," the man says with a chuckle, wiping his nose with the back of his hand like it was no big deal, "relax, i’m fine. it’s just blood. it happens."

just blood. just blood. you stare at him for a beat, trying to wrap your brain around the fact that he was genuinely not bothered. if you had a nosebleed like this, you’d be on the ground, crying for your mother and your entire bloodline, but here this guy was, an absolute unit of a man, all broad shoulders and muscular thighs — bleeding out in front of you, and acting like it was the most mundane thing in the world.

"are you sure?" you ask, your voice pitched too high from nerves. "i mean, i feel like — i don’t know, i feel like i should at least be doing something to... help? like, i can — oh! i can find you something!"

you start rifling through your bag in a panicked frenzy. who carries band-aids to a concert? not you. who carries tissues to a concert? definitely not you. all you could offer was a packet of gum, a half-melted candy bar, and some lip balm. great. you were the epitome of preparedness.

you frown, "fuck, i'm really so sorry, i was just kinda, -" and you wave your arms around in the air as a half-hearted impression, as he tentatively takes a step back. probably worried you're gonna bazooka his chin next, and leave him with a busted lip.

"hah, i get it," he says with a shrug, as if his nose was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, "practically an expected hazard of being in the mosh pit."

you looked at him, genuinely unsure whether he was joking or just that calm about it, "you’re really okay? i'd really rip part of my sleeve, i don't know, if that would help," but you tug the sheer fabric, "but this is kind of tough elastane. oh my god, what am i even saying?"

"eh, i’ve had worse." the stranger gives you a grin that only made the situation feel more surreal. he was smiling, smiling — despite the fact that he was actively leaking blood like he’d been in a fight with a giant squid.

damn, you kinda like your men when they look a bit unhinged.

“look, just —" he cuts you off, “i'm flattered someone this cute is flustered over me. kinda nice, hah."

your face goes scarlet. "i am not cute, i should be terrifying," you gasp, mortified. “i just broke your nose in a mosh pit, and i —"

and that’s when it clicked. your brain finally registered the fact that this guy wasn’t some random concert-goer. no, this was geto—the suguru geto, the lead guitarist of the band that was headlining the festival tonight. you’d been a fan for years, practically worshipping the man’s guitar solos and smooth stage presence. and now...now you had broken his nose.

god help you when stan twitter got their hands on you.

you stare at him, wide-eyed, and he must’ve noticed the shift in your expression because he raised a pierced brow, "oh, i see it now. you, uh, a fan?"

"uhm," you squeak, still too mortified to speak normally, and trying to lower your voice to sound chill and unbothered. but it's just not working. "of course i recognise you! you’re — geto!"

suguru geto bashfully grins, as if pleased with your sudden realisation, though the blood dripping from his nose didn’t exactly lend him the aura of mystery he was used to, "i gotta say, you’re the first person to recognise me looking like this." he pauses, glancing at his nose with a casual flick.

you let out an awkward, nervous laugh. hoping that the divine powers have some pity for you, and you actually don't mess this up further, "i’m so sorry again. i really didn’t mean to —"

"seriously,” geto said, cutting you off again, "you don’t need to keep apologising. i get it, you're real sweet." then, after a pause, he tilted his head, his purple eyes glinting. "but, hey, next time i’m on stage? i’ll make sure to look for you in the crowd. you won’t be able to miss me. i’ll be the guy with the broken nose."

and just like that, it hit you. he wasn’t just being cool about the situation. he was flirting with you. the man was literally bleeding from his face, and he was flirting with you.

you open your mouth to say something, anything — but before you could form the words, geto flashes a wink, that same mischievous grin never leaving his face, "just gonna have to go and get this looked at. manager's gonna lose his shit, but see you around, yeah?"

NANAMI KENTO ✶ is it too late to turn this plane around ?

the plane shuddered just slightly as it levelled out, and you gripped the armrest as if your life depended on it, trying to pretend that you weren't ready to hurl the contents of your empty stomach over economy class.

it didn’t help that your armrest companion, sharply dressed, annoyingly calm, and with a face that could have been carved from marble — seemed utterly unbothered by the subtle turbulence. he didn’t even glance up from his boring ass magazine.

you had been stealing glances at him since he sat down. the suit caught your attention first, impeccably tailored, so he was probably some finance guy. his tie, a speckled shade of banana yellow that somehow still looked elegant, was loosened just enough to suggest this wasn’t his first flight today, though not so much as to appear disheveled.

well, just your luck that you were seated next to someone who looked like they could be a stone-faced nordstrom model.

his face, though. well, damn! it was the face that made him hard to look away from. angular features, strong jawline, and a slight furrow in his brow that gave him a perpetually exasperated look. the kind of face that probably made people think twice before asking him for directions.

you, however, were not most people.

"so," you began, forcing your voice to sound light and casual, even though your heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape your chest. "do you think we’re supposed to hear that sound?"

he finally looked at you, glancing up from his magazine with the slow precision of someone who was already regretting their decision to acknowledge you.

"which sound?" he asks, his voice calm but carrying a hint of weariness. his blonde hair was neatly slicked back, though a single strand had rebelliously fallen onto his forehead.

"uhm, you know. that sound," you said, gesturing vaguely toward the overhead compartments as if that explained anything.

his gaze followed your hand, and his brow furrowed further, not in alarm but in what looked like mild irritation. “the plane engine or the luggage settling. perfectly normal." his tone is clipped, curt.

"are you sure? i watched a tiktok that said that there was a one in a thirteen million chance of being a plane crash. that's like...too much for me," you press, trying to ignore the mild rattle of the window.

he sighs softly, the kind of sigh that said he was already dreading the rest of the flight. "yes. i’m sure. i would not trust...short videos made by attention desparate people on the internet."

“okay, but what if it’s not normal? like, what if it’s—”

"it’s not the plane falling apart," he interrupted, his tone polite but firm. "i promise you."

you blink at him, momentarily silenced by the sheer certainty in his voice. "well, that’s reassuring, i think," you say finally, "thanks, uh…" you glanced at the seat tag clipped to his bag. "nanami kento. i mean, just nanami, right? don't wanna full name you..."

he inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the unspoken introduction, then returned to his magazine. it didn’t escape your notice that he turns the page with the kind of precision you’d expect from a surgeon.

you sit back in your seat, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that you were currently hurtling through the air in a metal tube. but the silence didn’t last long.

"so, what are you reading?" you asks, craning your neck slightly to get a better look at the magazine in his hands.

nanami hesitates, like he was debating whether to humour you or not. finally, he said, "an article on japan’s economic trends."

you blink. "oh. thrilling."

the corner of his stern mouth twitches, just barely, as if he was fighting back an amused smile, "i find it...informative."

"sure, but informative and thrilling are two very different things," you point out.

nanami turns another page, still exuding that same infuriating calm, "you seemed like you needed a distraction," he says, almost reluctantly. "would you prefer i explain it to you?"

you tilt your head, surprised by the offer. "you’d...explain the economy to me? as a distraction?"

"you were the one asking about plane sounds, and you look as though you're going to pass out. i'm not keen on doing first aid if it can be avoided," nanami says, with a tone so dry that it grates over you.

"fair point," you admit, "okay, hit me. tell me something i don’t know about japan’s economy."

he adjusts his glasses, his expression unreadable as he snaps his magazine straight in front of him, reading off the page, "the yen has been under significant pressure lately, largely due to increased government spending and concerns over inflation. it’s a precarious balance, on one hand, stimulus is necessary to sustain growth —"

nanami gives you a stern glare as you stifle back a yawn but continues, "but on the other, it weakens the currency against global competitors. the nikkei index reflects this uncertainty, fluctuating in response to external factors like american monetary policy and global market trends.”

you stared at him, trying to process the flood of information. frankly, you've never given a fuck about economics, and you had been more busy staring at his smooth lips, "so.. don’t buy yen?"

nanami's mouth twitches again, and this time you were certain it was kinder. "that’s one takeaway."

"wow," you said, leaning back in your seat, "you really know how to distract someone."

"was it helpful?" nanami asks, his tone suggesting he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

you considered that for a moment, "actually, yeah. i mean, i don’t understand half of what you just said, but it was so boring i forgot about the plane noises. uh, i hate planes. in case, you couldn't tell."

his eyes soften ever so slightly behind his glasses, "i could tell. glad to be of service."

you found yourself smiling despite your nerves. there was something unexpectedly charming about his awkward attempt to engage you, even if it involved the driest topic imaginable.

"you know," you say, "you don’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoys small talk."

"not in the slightest," nanami admits.

"so why are you humouring me?"

he glances at you, "didn't want you to throw up over my jacket."

the plane lurches, and you look at him with panicked eyes, "i wouldn't be so relaxed yet! oh, fuck, pass me that plastic bag, wouldya?"

RYOMEN SUKUNA ✶ retail's worst nightmare !

working retail was a game of holy patience, and holy fuck, you were losing.

it wasn't just the holiday rush or the fluorescent lights buzzing ominously as spotify worked through the most overplayed songs of the year.

it was him.

the man who was always camped out in your section of the store, for at least thirty minutes. for each of your shifts, rifling through stacks of neatly folded shirts like a bored bear rooting through a cooler. you watched, jaw grinding, as he unfurled yet another oversized graphic tee. flattening it against his broad frame, against the washed denim of his thick jeans. holding it up like he was considering buying it.

only to toss it back onto the table in a rumpled heap.

occasionally, he'd slide down his red headphones and you'd watch him flex wide arms, tattoos crawling out of the neckline of his shirt as he huffed.

you hated this innocuous customer. hated how ridiculously good-looking he was, in a way that screamed danger. what, with the mess of blush-pink hair and deep, russet eyes. hated how little he seemed to care about the destruction he was wreaking on your display, and most of all, you hated how he smiled whenever you sighed audibly.

making eye contact with you as he tossed yet another tee into the ruined pile.

"are you gonna keep unfolding those shirts?" you snap finally, "or are you actually planning to buy something?"

the man turns, slow and deliberate, and his gaze slides down to your name tag before sharp teeth unfurl from the corners of a rosy mouth, "relax," he drawls, "i'm just browsing."

browsing. right. you stare at the disaster zone that he's created, the meticulously folded rows of band-tees now reduced to a chaotic mound of cotton.

"this isn't a library," you shoot back, hands on your hips, "either decide or move on."

he arches a brow, clearly enjoying himself, "why so tense? isn't this your job?"

you let out a cool breath through your nose, clenching your teeth to fine dust, "yeah. my job isn't babysitting grown men who can't pick a shirt size."

the stranger blinks, pink lashes fluttering over sharp, dark eyes. as though he's genuinely considering this. then, with an absolutely maddening level of confidence, he grabs another shirt.

a hideous neon green monstrosity, with some kind of skull prints, and he shakes it out right in front of you. letting the creases fall out, dangling it like a flag of triumph.

"this one's nice, heh," he says.

"if you ruin one more folded pile, i'm gonna stuff that shirt down your big-ass neck."

his laugh is sudden and loud, echoing through the department. a couple of shoppers turn to look, but he seems to not care in the slightest, "ya can't say that to me. but you got guts, i'll give you that."

"and you’ve got about five seconds to put that shirt down before i make you refold this entire table," you shoot back.

he doesn't move. instead, he holds your gaze, clearly testing your patience. his wolf's smile was now edged with something sharper, something that dared you to follow through on your threat.

"you’re serious, aren'tcha?" he asks, almost impressed.

"deadly," you replied.

for a moment, you thought he might actually comply. but then, with the same deliberate slowness, he dropped the neon green shirt onto the pile he’d already decimated.

you stared at it. then at him. you think you're trying to pour gasoline on him, and blow him up in your mind.

"what's your name?" you ask flatly.

"sukuna."

"i hope a thousand evil little bugs descend on your house tonight, sukuna. i hope they invade your dreams so you know i'm wishing a curse upon you."

"that's kinda hot," he replies, without missing a beat and turning to leave.

"you can’t just walk away!" you called after him, but he was already halfway to the escalator, hands shoved in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world, and already pulling his crimson headphones back up.

you groaned, grabbing the nearest shirt to start refolding the mess he’d left behind.

then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw sukuna pause at the top of the escalator. he turned, just enough to make eye contact, and called out:

"when's your lunch break? let's go out!"

GOJO SATORU ✶ you charge my particles :D

the emergency department smelled like antiseptic and awful syringes. you were perched on the edge of a very uncomfortable chair, hands clenched in your shaking lap. staring at the guy you had, accidentally, thank you very much, run over in a parking lot.

his leg was propped up, wrapped up in plenty of gauze and a ice-pack, and he also looked oddly serene for someone with a pretty nasty, bruised up limb.

when you had first gotten there, you had been sick with guilt and worry that this poor stranger had been knocked unconscious by the rear of your car. but to your absolute bewilderment, he was actually just...sleeping? dozing off, sprawled back with a soft and peaceful smile on his face like he was just happy to catch a good snooze. the most absurd shade of ice-white hair mussed around his head.

that was, until his eyes fluttered open.

"oh my god, you're awake!" you blurted, leaning forward, with regret pouring out of you, "are you okay? does your leg hurt? what am i saying, of course it does! i am so sorry —"

he turns his head to you, blinking slowly. his eyes were a ridiculous, striking shade of blue. like glacier water caught in the sun. and then he grinned, voice still a little rough from his nap.

"hey, cutie."

you stare, utterly thrown, "excuse me?"

"what's up, gorgeous? don't worry, i forgive you for attempted vehicular manslaughter."

"good god," you muttered, "i hit his head too."

the stranger stretches his arms above his head, and you try not to track your stare to ridiculously, circus-long legs that sprawl over the crumpled sheets of the wheeled bed. way too tall, lean and far too good-looking for someone who had just been brought via ambulance to the hospital.

"it's fine, i swear," the man says, waving a scraped hand dismissively, "i needed a day off, so you did me a favour."

"a favour," you repeat, utterly incredulous, "you're in the emergency department. i backed up my car into you!"

the stranger shrugs, wincing at the stretch. and utterly unbothered by your fluttering worries, "yeah. but think 'bout it. if you hadn't hit me, i'd be stuck in a lecture hall. i don't wanna explain newtonian mechanics to a bunch of half-asleep undergrads."

you stare at him, suspiciously, "you're a professor?"

"mhm, physics."

"you don't look old enough to be a professor," and you're squinting at white lashes that ring impossibly large eyes. he looks more like a famous actor that you can't quite place, or someone's beautiful sugar baby.

no, focus.

he smirks, pale and glossy lips quirking upwards, "saying i look too good to be stuck in academia?"

"what? no," you say quickly, worried that he's gonna think you're a freak who hits on their victims, "that's not what i meant."

"you can say it," the man interrupted, still grinning, "i get it a lot. oh, satoru, you're too handsome to be explaining thermodynamics. satoru, you should be on the big screen, not teaching string theory. it's a bit of a curse."

you rub your temples, trying to block out the nonsense coming out of his fast-moving mouth, "you're kinda...weird. satoru."

"you hit me with a car," he points out cheerfully.

before you can retort, or ask him if he has private health insurance, a nurse clicks over, a clipboard in her hand as she's tapping her pen impatiently.

"mr gojo? we're ready to take you back for another x-ray? we just want to make sure that we also get a good picture at some soft tissues, so an mri as well."

your poor wallet.

"great," satoru says, and then to your utter horror, he adds, "i'll just leave my stuff with my partner, right?"

the nurse raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. you feel your tongue go dry, "i'm not —" but satoru cuts you off, with a voice like silk.

"so shy, right?" and he's flashing the nurse a charming smile that makes your nose crinkle, "but i'm just so glad that they're here through this difficult situation."

the nurse looks mildly skeptical, and you can feel your face heat up as she sighs, and stares at you.

"i...yeah. gotta be there for my sugar pumpkin snookums, right?"

it's satisfying that the tips of satoru's ears turn an awful shade of pink as he glares at you now, "such a sweetheart," and he pats your hand.

the nurse seems more inclined to roll her eyes, clearly over what she assumes are the antics of a medicine-doped boyfriend, "right. let's get that leg checked out."

as she wheels him away, satoru winks at you over his shoulder, "don't go anywhere, pretty!"

what a fiend. grinning like he's having the time of his life.

[cumironi]

FALL APART? NO, JUST MENTAL BREAKDOWN : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

gojo found you training in the middle of the night only for you to have a mental breakdown in front of him. so he brings you to geto's dorm room to calm you down, also for gojo to find behind geto's action on why he is so gentle with you.

warning. highschool! satosugu, fem! reader, mental breakdown, blood mentioned.

wc. 11k | [☆] MASTERLIST

the moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the training grounds as gojo strolled leisurely toward the dorms. the night air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves as he walked, his posture relaxed with one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his gray sweatpants. a plastic bag dangled from his wrist, filled with snacks, while the other hand held a bottle of ramune, the fizzing sound of the drink faint in the quiet night.

as he approached the training area, his keen senses picked up on a faint, familiar energy. gojo's sharp eyes, hidden behind his usual dark sunglasses, flickered toward the source. there you were, in the middle of the field, your movements precise but lacking the usual fire. something felt off. he could see it in the way you moved—like you were pushing yourself too hard, not out of determination but as if trying to outrun something.

gojo paused, tilting his head as he observed you. the way your shoulders tensed, the subtle tremor in your stance, it was clear you were wrestling with something heavy. he didn’t need to use his six eyes to know that whatever it was, it was eating at you.

with a sigh, he made his way over, his footsteps quiet against the ground. “hey,” he called out, his voice breaking the silence as he approached. “shouldn’t you be getting some rest? it’s almost midnight.”

you didn’t stop, swinging your fists with a determination that bordered on reckless. sweat glistened on your skin, your breaths coming out in harsh pants. gojo frowned, sensing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. gojo crossed his arms, his eyes fixed on your back as you continued to punch, ignoring his words. he could see the tension in your muscles, the stiffness in each punch you threw. it was clear to him that you were drowning in something, something that went deeper than just physical exhaustion.

“y/n,” he called out again, his voice firm. “stop it. you're gonna exhaust yourself.”

but you didn't listen, continuing with your relentless assault on the air, your breath coming out in ragged gasps. when you didn’t respond, he took a sip of his ramune, the fizzy sound breaking the silence again. gojo knew you well enough to recognize when you were shutting people out, but he wasn’t one to back off easily.

he took a step closer, setting the bottle down and letting the plastic bag drop to the ground with a soft rustle. “you know, you can’t just punch your way through everything,” he said, his tone lighter but laced with a sincerity that was rare for him. “what’s going on?”

you finally stopped, breathing heavily as you glared at him, trying to maintain your composure. “it’s none of your business, gojo,” you snapped, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

gojo just shrugged, unbothered by your attitude. “yeah, maybe. but i’m making it my business,” he replied, his gaze never leaving you. he could see the cracks in your tough exterior, the way your resolve was starting to waver.

gojo took a couple of steps closer, closing the gap between the two of you. he stood there, his hands in his pockets, his casual demeanor starkly contrasting the intensity of the moment. he tilted his head slightly, studying your face, taking in the way your expression flickered with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

“you're not fooling anyone,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “you look like you're about to collapse. why are you pushing yourself so hard?” you shot gojo a sharp look, your eyes narrowing as his words cut through the tense air. “wow, thanks for the observation, the strongest sorcerer,” you snapped, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. “maybe i'm pushing myself because i have to, unlike some people who just stroll around like they own the place.”

you turned away, trying to focus back on your training, but his presence lingered, making it impossible to ignore. “not everyone has the luxury of slacking off, gojo,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “some of us actually have to work for it.”

the frustration in your voice was clear, but you kept your back turned, refusing to show him the full extent of what was really eating at you. gojo stood there, unfazed by your biting remarks. he had seen this side of you many times before. it was a defense mechanism, a way for you to push people away when you were feeling vulnerable.

he took a slow step closer, closing the gap between you even further. “yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. “don’t get all pissy with me because i’m just taking it easy. it’s not my fault i’m powerful enough to do that.”

he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

he took a step closer, standing just a few feet away from you. “but you're not fooling me, you know,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over the field. “i know you, y/n. i know when you're acting all tough, trying to hide how you really feel.”

gojo waited a moment, watching as you continued to punch, your movements tense and aggressive. he knew you were doing this intentionally, trying to block him out.

“what's going on?” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “talk to me.” you glared at gojo, your vision blurring as your eyes welled up with unshed tears. his words stung, digging into the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep buried. you hated how easily he saw through you, how he always managed to pry into your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to push him away.

“shut up, gojo,” you spat, your voice cracking as you try to hold back your emotions. “you don’t know anything, so just stop pretending like you care.”

your fists clenched tighter, nails digging into your palms as you felt the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over. the frustration of being seen, of having someone like him so close to your vulnerable side, made your heart pound in your chest.

you turned away from him, your breaths coming out in shaky huffs. “you have no idea what it’s like,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “so just leave me alone. go play hero somewhere else.”

you could feel his gaze boring into you, unrelenting, but you refused to let him see you break. not now, not ever. gojo's expression softened as he watched you struggle to keep your composure. he could see the way your hands were shaking, the way your voice wavered with emotion. it was clear that you were on the verge of falling apart, but you were doing everything you could to keep yourself together.

he took another step closer, closing the distance between you, his presence looming over you like a protective shadow.

“you're right,” he said quietly. "i don’t know what it’s like. but i can see that something is tearing you apart.” he reached out, gently gripping your shoulder and turning you to face him. you tried to shake off his touch, but his grip was firm. gojo's eyes met yours, and in that moment, he could see the weight of everything you were struggling with.

“y/n,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, “you can't keep this up. you're going to break. you don’t have to tell me what's going on, but at least let me help you carry the load.”

anger flared in your chest, burning hotter with every soft word that fell from gojo’s lips. you hated this—being seen so clearly, so intimately by him. it made you feel weak, exposed in a way that made your skin crawl. the vulnerability he brought out in you wasn’t something you were ready to face, let alone share.

your breath hitched, and without thinking, you lunged at him, fists clenched and ready to strike. the thought of wiping that concerned look off his face, even for a moment, felt like the only way to regain some control over the spiraling chaos inside you.

but before your fists could connect, gojo's hands were there, catching your wrists in mid-air. his grip was firm but gentle, not meant to restrain but to steady. your eyes locked onto his, those impossibly blue eyes that held so much softness it made your chest ache.

“let go,” you snarled, your voice thick with frustration, but your resolve was already wavering under the weight of his gaze. his touch was warm, grounding, and it pissed you off even more that it made you feel safer than you wanted to admit.

gojo didn’t flinch, didn’t react to your outburst. instead, he just held your wrists, his thumbs brushing lightly over your skin in soothing circles. “i’m not letting go,” he said softly, his voice steady. “no, y/n..”

you tried to pull back, but his hold remained firm, not allowing you to retreat into the walls you’d built so carefully around yourself. your breath came out in ragged, uneven gasps, and you could feel your resolve crumbling under the sheer kindness of his gaze.

gojo’s thumbs continued to brush against the skin on your wrists in soothing circles, his touch grounding you even as the tension in your body remained taut. he could see the conflict in your eyes, the struggle between vulnerability and resilience. it tugged at his heart, the way you were fighting against your own feelings, trying to push him away even as you leaned into his touch.

he leaned in slightly, his voice still soft but firm. “just let it out, y/n,” he said, his eyes fixed on yours. “you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

your breath hitched the moment gojo’s words reached your ears, and the dam you’d built up so carefully finally cracked. tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting, and you hated how exposed you felt under his gaze. but there was something in his eyes—a quiet understanding, a patience that felt like a lifeline in the storm of your emotions.

you tried to keep your lips shut, biting down hard to stop the sobs from escaping, but it was useless. your chest heaved, and your vision blurred with the force of your tears. you looked up at gojo, desperately trying to hold onto the remnants of your pride, but the tenderness in his eyes only made the tears flow harder.

you wanted to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone, to stop being so kind when you didn’t deserve it—but the words wouldn’t come. instead, all that came out was a broken sound, halfway between a sob and a gasp, as you stared at him, your defenses crumbling under the weight of your own emotions.

gojo didn’t say anything; he just stayed there, holding your wrists gently as if you were something precious, something worth protecting. his thumbs continued their soothing motions, grounding you in the moment even as your walls came tumbling down. and for once, you let yourself lean into it, let yourself feel the comfort of someone who wasn’t going to leave, who wasn’t going to judge.

your shoulders shook as the sobs you’d been holding back finally broke free, and gojo just stayed there, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you fall apart without pulling away.

gojo's heart ached as he watched you fall apart in front of him. seeing you, always strong and determined, reduced to tears, was a sight he had never imagined he'd see. it was heart-breaking and beautiful all at once.

he wanted to hold you, to wrap his arms around you and shield you from everything that had pushed you to this point, but he held back. he knew you wouldn't accept it, not yet. so, he settled for holding your wrists, grounding you with his touch, his thumbs continuing to draw small, soothing circles on your skin.

you stood there, trembling under gojo’s touch, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. your tears streamed down your face, and despite the overwhelming urge to scream or collapse, you stubbornly kept your lips pressed into a tight line, refusing to let a single sob escape.

your breath came in ragged gasps, each one a silent battle to maintain the last shreds of your composure. it infuriated you—how he was seeing you like this, so raw and broken, and yet he didn’t look at you with pity. instead, there was something warm and unyielding in his gaze, something that made the knot in your chest tighten and loosen all at once.

your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the tears continued to fall. gojo's calm, unwavering presence only made it harder to keep the sobs at bay, but you still fought against it, clenching your jaw and blinking rapidly to stop the flood. you hated feeling this vulnerable, hated that he was witnessing you at your lowest.

but despite everything, you couldn’t pull away. you couldn’t turn your back on the silent comfort he was offering. so, you just stood there, staring up at his much taller frame, trying to steady your breaths and failing miserably. the warmth of his hands on your wrists was the only thing keeping you grounded, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone, even as you continued to silently unravel.

gojo held your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. he saw the battle you were fighting within yourself, the struggle to keep your emotions in check. he knew how hard it was for you to show weakness, how much you hated the vulnerability that came with tears.

but he also saw the way you leaned into his touch, how you couldn’t pull away even though you desperately wanted to. his thumbs continued to brush softly across your wrists, a silent reassurance. he didn’t push you to speak, didn’t ask you to explain. he just stayed, offering his presence as a silent comforter.

gojo hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of your pain pressing against him. when your tears didn’t stop, he finally gave in, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with a gentleness that was almost uncharacteristic of him. pulling you closer, he murmured softly, "come on, let's get you to rest and clean those wounds," his gaze lingering on your bruised knuckles. without waiting for you to respond, he guided you carefully, picking up the plastic bag from the ground before leading you to geto's dorm room.

your silent sobs echoed softly in the quiet night as gojo continued to walk beside you, his arm steady around you, providing a comforting presence. when he finally opened the door to geto’s room, the raven-haired sorcerer was sprawled out, halfway through opening a bag of snacks, his expression immediately shifting to irritation.

“where the hell have you been?” geto began, his tone laced with annoyance, but the words died in his throat the moment he saw you. his eyes widened in surprise, and his expression softened instantly as he took in the sight of you, tears still streaming down your face, tucked under gojo’s arm. the sight was jarring—seeing you, someone who was always so tough, reduced to a state of raw emotion.

gojo gave geto a small, rueful smile as he gently nudged you further into the room. “look who i found,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual teasing edge. geto’s gaze flickered from gojo to you, his expression shifting to one of concern and understanding.

“hey,” geto said quietly, his voice warm as he quickly moved over, abandoning his snack without a second thought. “what’s going on?” he asked gently, his eyes searching yours for an answer, but he didn’t push, knowing better than to pry when you were already so vulnerable.

gojo guided you to the bed, helping you sit down before pulling up a chair beside you. he glanced at geto, who nodded silently, the unspoken communication between them clear. they weren’t going to leave you alone to face this on your own.

geto settled down on the other side of the bed, sitting facing you. he didn’t say anything, just waited patiently, his presence steady and calming. gojo leaned back against the nearby wall, keeping his distance but still within reach.

they both knew that pushing you to talk wouldn’t yield any results. this situation was delicate, and they didn’t want to make things worse. so, they waited, their gazes never leaving you, silently offering both comfort and the time you needed to gather your thoughts.

geto’s eyes traced over your form, taking in the disheveled state of your jujutsu high uniform, the fabric stained with dirt and specks of blood. his gaze lingered on your knuckles—bruised, swollen, and dotted with dried blood. the sight of your injuries stirred a mix of concern and quiet anger within him, not at you, but at whatever had driven you to this point.

“what the hell happened?” geto asked softly, his voice low but filled with a hint of restrained frustration, not directed at you but at the situation. he reached out, carefully taking one of your hands in his, inspecting the bruises with a delicate touch. his thumb grazed the torn skin gently, his brows furrowing as he noted the extent of the damage.

“you shouldn’t be out there pushing yourself like this,” he continued, his voice laced with worry. geto’s usual calm demeanor was still there, but there was a distinct edge to his tone—he was deeply concerned. he glanced at gojo, who nodded subtly, the silent communication between them reflecting their shared unease.

“you’re still in your uniform,” geto pointed out softly, his gaze returning to your face. “have you been training all this time?” his eyes searched yours, filled with quiet understanding. despite the softness in his voice, his grip on your hand was firm, grounding you, making sure you knew he was there.

geto’s thumb continued to brush lightly against your bruised knuckles, a silent promise of comfort and protection. he didn’t push for answers, didn’t demand an explanation. instead, he just stayed, his presence calm and steady, offering you a quiet space to breathe and let go. he understood that right now, the best thing he could do was simply be there, ready to support you however you needed.

gojo sat quietly, watching the interaction between you and geto with a mixture of concern and relief. he was glad you were with someone he trusted wholeheartedly. he knew that geto had a way of making people feel safe, and right now, you needed that more than anything.

he observed the way geto touched you, his hands gentle and considerate. he could see the worry etched in the raven-haired sorcerer'a eyes, the protective edge in his voice. it was clear that geto deeply cared, and it made gojo feel somewhat more at ease.

after a while, the tears stopped, not because the weight had lifted or the pain had lessened, but simply because you were too exhausted to keep crying. the emotional toll had drained every bit of energy from your body, leaving you feeling hollow and numb. your breathing steadied, but your eyes remained red and puffy, your face marked with tear stains that you didn’t bother to wipe away.

you glanced down at your bruised knuckles still held gently in geto’s grasp. the ache was a dull reminder of the pain you were trying to drown out through sheer force. you took a shaky breath, trying to gather the shattered pieces of your composure, but even that felt like a monumental task.

“i'm fine,” you mumbled weakly, though it was clear that you were far from it. your voice was hoarse, a faint tremble still lingering in your words. you pulled your hand slightly away from geto’s hold, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration at your own vulnerability. you hated showing this side of yourself, hated feeling so exposed and raw in front of them, even if they were the people you trusted the most.

but despite everything, the presence of both gojo and geto was oddly comforting. their silent support, the way they just stayed with you without demanding answers or forcing you to talk—it was more than you could have asked for. you leaned back against the headboard, closing your eyes as fatigue settled heavily in your bones.

“thanks…” you whispered, barely audible, but it was the closest you could come to acknowledging how much their presence meant to you. you were still too worn out to express it fully, but in this quiet moment, surrounded by the soft hum of their breathing and the warmth of their company, you felt a flicker of solace.

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly at your mumbled attempt to wave them off. he shared a glance with gojo, his eyes filled with understanding. they both knew that you were far from fine, no matter how much you tried to deny it, but neither of them called you out on it.

he continued to hold your hand gently, his thumb running soothing circles against your skin. geto leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, “we're not going anywhere, y/n. no matter how much you try to push us away.”

gojo knelt down in front of you, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare, genuine softness. his eyes, usually so full of mischief, now held only concern as he met your gaze. he could see the exhaustion etched across your face, the way your body slumped as if the weight of everything had finally become too much. he reached out, his hand hovering just above your knee, not wanting to overwhelm you but offering a touch of reassurance.

"hey," gojo's voice was gentle, almost coaxing, as if trying to soothe a skittish animal. "why don’t you take a shower? it'll help you relax, and then we can clean up those bruises." his tone was tender, lacking the usual teasing lilt; it was clear that his only priority was to make you feel even a little bit better.

geto, who had been silently watching from the side, finally released your hand with a soft squeeze, a silent promise that he wasn’t letting go for good. he stood up, moving quietly to gather a fresh set of clothes, a new towel, and some essentials from his neatly organized closet. he returned, placing the items beside you with care, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

"you can use my stuff," geto offered, his voice as soft as the quiet room around you. "everything's clean, and it’s all yours for as long as you need." his eyes lingered on yours, the quiet intensity in them offering comfort that words alone couldn’t convey.

the room was filled with a comforting silence, a quiet understanding shared between the three of you. gojo’s hand still hovered close, waiting for you to take that first step, while geto stood nearby, ready to help in any way he could. they were giving you space, but at the same time, making it clear that they were there, unwavering and steadfast in their support.

you glanced between gojo and geto, their quiet patience somehow making the knot in your chest loosen just a bit. the gentle concern in their eyes, the way they hovered close but not too close, made you feel a small flicker of comfort amidst the exhaustion weighing you down.

“okay…” you mumbled softly, barely above a whisper, your voice laced with a mix of fatigue and reluctant acceptance. you didn't have the energy to keep fighting them, and a part of you knew they were right—you needed to take care of yourself, even if it was just a shower and some clean clothes.

you gave them a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of their efforts to help. “thanks,” you added, your voice still quiet but sincere. though it wasn’t much, it was the closest you could get to showing them that you appreciated their presence, their gentle persistence, and the way they were there for you without asking for anything in return.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, relief flickering in their eyes at your begrudging agreement. they had both expected you to resist more, but it seemed that you were too exhausted to keep fighting.

“good.” gojo smiled slightly, his hand moving to rest on your knee as he spoke, “we'll be right here when you get out. take as long as you need.” his voice was gentle, lacking the usual playful edge.

geto nodded in agreement, his eyes softening as they met yours. “we're not leaving,” he reaffirmed, his voice firm yet comforting. you quietly stood up, your movements slow and a bit unsteady as the exhaustion continued to weigh heavily on you. you glanced at both of them, taking in their reassuring expressions and the way they seemed to have silently vowed to stay by your side. there was something oddly comforting in knowing that, despite everything, they weren’t going to leave.

without saying a word, you made your way to the bathroom, your footsteps barely making a sound against the floor. you could feel their eyes on you as you closed the door behind you, the quiet click of the latch sealing you in a small, private space where you could finally breathe without holding everything in.

standing in front of the mirror, you caught your reflection—bruised, worn out, and drained. it was hard to look at yourself, but you pushed down the urge to break down again. you let out a shaky breath, turning on the shower and letting the sound of running water fill the room, drowning out the turmoil in your head. as the steam began to rise, you slipped out of your jujutsu high uniform and stepped under the warm stream, hoping that, at least for a moment, the water could wash away some of the heaviness clinging to you.

gojo and geto remained in the bedroom, listening to the sounds coming from the bathroom. the water rushing through the pipes and the soft splash against your skin was all they could hear, and it made both of them feel even more worried than before.

gojo fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt, his foot tapping a steady rhythm against the floor. he wanted to barge into the bathroom and check on you, but he knew that would only cross a boundary.

geto sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the bathroom door with a look of concern etched across his face. he turned to gojo, his tone sharp but laced with worry. “okay, what the fuck is happening? is she okay?”

gojo sighed, his expression serious as he leaned against the wall. “i found her training alone. she was pushing herself way too hard, like she was trying to burn out all the pain or something. her knuckles were bruised, and she was on the edge of collapsing. she clearly needed a break, but she wouldn’t admit it.”

geto's eyebrows furrowed as he listened to gojo's explanation, his expression becoming even more troubled. he knew you well enough to know that pushing yourself to the brink was your way of coping when things got rough, but this felt like you were going too far even for your standards.

“did she say anything at all? what set her off like this?” geto questioned, his voice betraying the worry that was gnawing at him. gojo rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “not really. she was just... pushing herself too hard. i tried to talk to her, but she was so set on keeping her distance.”

geto's gaze sharpened, his concern turning into frustration. “why didn’t you stop her from doing this?”

gojo’s eyes widened slightly, and he whispered, almost defensively, offended by the accusation from his friend, “she was going to punch me in the face! I was scared shitless. i mean, seriously, i almost peed myself.”

geto looked at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “you’re an idiot,” he said with a sigh, though his tone carried a note of exasperation. gojo protested with a pouting tone, his pride clearly stung by geto's words, “hey! i am not an idiot. just because i was trying to avoid getting decked by her doesn’t mean i’m stupid.”

geto rolled his eyes playfully, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, though the concern still weighed heavily on his mind, “well, you could’ve still done something instead of just standing there like a dumbass.” gojo scoffed, clearly offended by geto's remark. he gave geto a light smack on the chest with the back of his hand, his expression challenging and annoyed. he didn't say anything, but his frustration was evident.

geto glanced down at his chest where gojo had hit him, then returned the gesture with a similar smack, his frown deepening and his eyebrows knitting together. the silent exchange was a mix of annoyance and camaraderie, a way of expressing their frustrations while still showing that they were on the same side.

gojo and geto continued their silent exchange of smacks, each one growing slightly harder than the last. their competitive nature flared up, even in moments as serious as this.

gojo's eyes sparkled with a competitive glint, and he let out a soft chuckle. “oh, it's like that, huh?” he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. geto rolled his eyes, but a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “yeah, it‘s like that,” he retorted, his voice just as teasing as his counterpart’s.

you stepped out of the shower, your hair still wet and dripping onto the floor. as you watched gojo and geto in the midst of their playful exchange, don't even realize your appearance, you couldn’t help but let out a tired sigh.

“you two are stupid,” you said, your voice carrying a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement. your narrow gaze and damp hair only added to the absurdity of the moment, making it clear you were both exasperated and slightly entertained by their antics.

gojo and geto's eyes darted to you upon hearing your voice. they both immediately stopped their playful smacking and guiltily looked away from each other.

gojo cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalant as if he wasn’t just engaged in a battle of pettiness a few seconds ago.

geto, on the other hand, was a bit more composed, though he wasn’t completely unapologetic. he shot gojo a knowing smirk before turning his attention back to you. “hey, you’re done!” gojo said a little too loudly, hoping to change the subject.

“you look better,” geto said softly, his eyes scrutinizing you from head to toe, taking in your damp hair and the exhaustion etched on your face.

gojo nodded in agreement, his usual playfulness completely gone for once. he took a step towards you, his eyes filled with a concern that he usually reserved for moments of true seriousness. “did it help at all?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you let out a soft sigh and nodded, murmuring a quiet “thanks” as you looked at them. the warmth in their eyes and their genuine concern made you feel a bit better despite the lingering exhaustion.

geto's eyes fell on you, noticing how his oversized clothes engulfed your figure, making you look even smaller and more vulnerable. the sight of you struggling to keep his pants from slipping down made him chuckle softly. he couldn't help but smile, finding the moment endearing despite the serious circumstances.

“you look like you’re drowning in my clothes,” he said with a gentle grin, his tone light and affectionate. when he noticed your still wet hair, he continued, “and you also look like a drowned rat,” he teased softly, the warmth in his voice contrasting with the playful comment. “let me help you with your hair. you can’t stay like this forever.”

gojo, who had been studying your tired frame, chuckled along with geto at the sight of you practically drowning in the oversized clothes. he knew you were always small, but the extra material hanging off of you only emphasized that fact. he smirked and jokingly chimed in, “yeah, you look like you’re being swallowed by that shirt and those pants.”

geto shot gojo a look that was simultaneously affectionate and annoyed before turning back to you. “seriously, you look ridiculous.” he teased gently, his voice still laced with concern. “come here.”

you groaned softly, shuffling over to them despite the heavy fabric. “do you have anything smaller?” you asked geto, your voice tinged with frustration as your feet dancing towards them who's still sitting at the edge of the bed. “i can’t wear this without having to hold it like i’m about to defend my life or something.”

geto chuckled at your exasperated tone and your exaggerated movements as you made your way over to him. he knew that his clothes would be too big on you, but he didn’t expect them to be THAT large.

he pushed himself off the bed, moving to stand closer to you. he reached out to adjust the collar of the shirt, a teasing smile on his face. “sorry, didn’t quite expect you to swim in it like that.” he quipped, enjoying the way you looked swamped in his clothes.

then, with a gentle yet authoritative tone, he said, “why don’t you sit on the floor for a moment? i’ll grab a towel to dry your hair.” you let out a dramatic sigh as you sat down on the floor in front of the bed, gojo moved from the bed to join you, his gaze shifting from playful to more attentive. he took in how you looked much better than before, despite still showing signs of exhaustion and vulnerability.

gojo’s eyes softened as he noted how much more relaxed you seemed, even if only slightly. he couldn’t help but tease, “you look like you’re a kid playing dress-up with her daddy’s clothes.” his voice was gentle, the playful edge softer than usual as he settled down in front of you on the floor.

geto returned with a towel, carefully sitting at the edge of the bed behind you. he began to gently towel-dry your damp hair, his movements steady and soothing. the room was filled with a comfortable quiet, the kind that spoke of trust and unspoken understanding.

gojo's soft jab at your appearance made you huff in mock indignance, but you didn't have the energy to engage much in retorts. besides, they were right; you did look like a kid playing dress-up.

as geto began to dry your hair with the towel, gojo reached out with his hand and gently tugged some of your still-damp locks. he chuckled lightly, “you’re a mess, you know that?” he teased, his tone affectionate despite the playful jab, “it's a wonder you can look this adorable while looking like such a disaster.”

you let out a soft sigh, your exhaustion still evident despite the gentle teasing. “yeah, yeah,” you murmured, your voice tired but carrying a hint of reluctant amusement. “i guess i’m just a walking disaster today.” you managed a small, weary smile, appreciating their attempts to lighten the mood even though you didn’t have much energy to respond.

geto, who was still behind you, silently focused on drying your hair, a soft smile on his face as he heard your response. he could sense the exhaustion in your voice and body, but he was glad to see that you still had a bit of humor left in you. gojo, sitting in front of you, chuckled and shook his head. “well, at least you're a cute disaster. not many people can pull that off.”

geto continued to silently dry your hair, his fingers gently working through the damp strands. he could feel how exhausted you were, the way your body slumped a bit beneath his touch showing just how drained you were. gojo, noticing your tired state, shifted closer to you. he reached out to gently poke your cheek, his tone softer now, “you look like you're about to fall asleep.“

you mumbled a tired, “sorry,” your eyes flickering as you struggled to stay awake. the warmth of geto’s touch and the gentle teasing from gojo made you feel a bit more at ease, even as you fought the heaviness of your exhaustion.

geto, sensing that you were on the verge of collapsing, moved more forcefully and quickly with the towel, trying to finish up drying your hair as soon as possible. he could see how your eyelids were starting to droop.

gojo also scooted closer, his smirk softening into a gentle expression of concern. he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and tender. “hey, you can't pass out on us. we're not done worrying about you yet.”

gojo's expression softened even more as he observed the red and swollen puffiness around your eyes. his thumb gently caressed the skin below your eyes, his touch tender and reassuring.

“you’re so stupid,” he murmured warmly, his voice filled with an affectionate frustration. “look how swollen your eyes are.” his smile was a mix of concern and fondness, showing just how deeply he cared. geto, who had finished drying your hair, looked down at your face. his gaze immediately took in the visible signs of strain; the exhaustion, the swollen eyes, the tension etched on your features. his heart weighed heavier as he saw how worn out you were.

“you really did a number on yourself,” he said, his voice low and filled with worry. he crouched down beside you, his eyes raking over your face as if trying to memorize every detail. you sat there in silence, taking in the comforting presence of gojo and geto as they attended to you. their concern and physical closeness, once a source of annoyance, now felt oddly soothing. you reflected on the year you had known them, remembering how their constant attempts to touch and tease you had become a familiar part of your daily life.

the small, seemingly insignificant gestures—poking, intertwining pinkies—had taken on a new meaning. their touch was now a comfort, a reassurance of their unwavering presence. you couldn't help but wonder if it was okay to feel this way, to find solace and a strange kind of warmth from the two strongest sorcerers, who had, despite their playful torment, always been there for you in their own way.

gojo, who was still in front of you, observed the subtle changes in your expression—the softening of your features, the flicker of emotions in your eyes. he could tell there was a lot going on in your head at the moment.

he leaned in a bit closer, his voice gentle yet playful, as he inquired, "penny for your thoughts?" his eyes searched your face, a mixture of curiosity and concern in his gaze. you blinked slowly, your tired mind finally focusing on the question. a small, sheepish smile tugged at your lips as you admitted, "actually, i'm just really hungry."

gojo's face lit up with a grin, clearly pleased to hear something as straightforward as hunger. "well, that’s an easy fix!" he said, his tone light and upbeat. "we’ve got snacks, and I’m pretty sure geto has something better in his fridge. what do you feel like eating?"

geto, still by your side, nodded in agreement. "yeah, let’s get you something to eat. you need to refuel after all that."

both of them started to move, eager to get you something to eat and help you feel better. gojo immediately jumped to his feet, his hands on his hips in his usual animated fashion. he rubbed his chin, contemplating the best possible snack for you.

"let's see, we've got chips," he began listing out the options, counting on his fingers, "chocolate bars, cookies, oh, and a bunch of junk food. but I think geto's fridge might have something healthier."

geto chuckled and got up as well, walking over to his mini fridge in the room. "yeah, we've got fruits, veggies, some leftovers, etc. anything you prefer?" you let out a soft, tired laugh at their enthusiasm. "anything's fine," you said quietly, appreciating their efforts. "just... whatever you think is best."

you leaned back against the bed, feeling a bit more at ease with their comforting presence and the thought of getting something to eat. gojo, still standing near you, smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement at your reply. he looked over at geto, who was rummaging through his fridge, and then back at you.

"that’s a dangerous thing to say with geto around," he teased. "he’ll probably shove a bunch of vegetables in a bowl and call it a snack."

geto shot him a playful glare from over the fridge door. “hey, fruits and veggies are good for you!” gojo and geto continued their lighthearted banter, completely engrossed in the contents of the mini fridge. they were focused on finding the perfect snack for you, occasionally exchanging jokes and comments about each other's food choices. the room was filled with their voices, punctuated by the occasional clink of containers.

unbeknownst to them, you had quietly curled up on the floor, your back resting against the bed frame. the exhaustion from earlier had taken its toll, and despite your earlier protests, you had succumbed to fatigue. your head was tipped back against the soft mattress, your body tucked in a fetal position, wrapped in the oversized clothes. the warmth of the room and the comforting presence of gojo and geto had lulled you into a deep sleep.

gojo and geto both turned around at the same time, their attention shifting from the fridge to the sight of you curled up on the floor. for a moment, they stood still, surprised by the sight of you asleep so soundly.

gojo’s eyes softened as he saw how peaceful you looked, his playful expression fading into something more tender. he walked over quietly, kneeling beside you, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with a gentle warmth. "well, look at that," he murmured softly, not wanting to disturb you. "you must’ve been more exhausted than we thought."

geto, still in front of the open fridge, took a moment to observe your sleeping form as well. his eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of concern and relief washing over him at the sight of your peaceful expression. he knew you were exhausted, but seeing you sleep so deeply on the floor wasn't what he was anticipating.

he closed the fridge and walked over to where gojo was, his steps soft. he kneeled down next to you as well, mirroring gojo's position and his concerned expression. "she really conked out," gojo mused quietly, his gaze still fixed on your sleeping face.

geto nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at his lips. "she must’ve been wiped out."

gojo reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair off your forehead, his touch so light it was barely discernible. he looked up at geto, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes, "should we wake her?"

geto shook his head with a soft, reassuring smile. “no, let her sleep. she’s had a rough day.”

he moved carefully, avoiding any sudden movements that might wake you. gently, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you with practiced ease. he felt the slight weight of you against him, and his expression softened further.

with a careful touch, he laid you down on his bed, arranging the blankets around you to keep you warm and comfortable. as he did, he glanced back at gojo, who had watched the entire process with a mix of curiosity and amusement. gojo stood and watched in silence as geto picked you up effortlessly, a small pang of something he couldn’t quite put into words going through his chest. he pushed it away, replaced it with a warm smile as he watched geto take care of you.

once you were settled comfortably on the bed, he looked over at geto, his tone playful again. "well, looks like you won the knight-in-shining-armor award this time," he quipped, folding his arms across his chest.

gojo leaned against the bed frame, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his face as he watched geto carefully place you on the bed.

he let out a small, suppressed chuckle, "being all soft and gentle there, suguru, i almost forgot you have a soft side."

geto shot him a playful glare, his voice filled with mock defensiveness, "i’m always gentle." gojo’s smirk widened into a full-fledged grin, clearly enjoying teasing geto about this.

"sure, you’re always gentle," he agreed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "i remember you being particularly gentle during training the other day when you nearly strangled me for being two minutes late."

he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

geto let out a huff of annoyance, his eyes narrowing at the memory of that training session. he knew he could be intense when it came to training, but gojo always had a way of getting under his skin.

"that’s different," he argued, his tone still playful. "that’s training, not… this. you know." he gestured towards you, asleep on his bed, emphasizing the difference between the two scenarios. gojo's grin grew wider, enjoying the familiar banter between them. he leaned back against the bed frame, getting more comfortable.

he chuckled, "yeah, you’re right, it’s different. with training, you’re the one usually giving the beat downs. but this," he gestured at you, "is something else. can’t really go around strangling someone who’s asleep now, can you?" geto rolled his eyes at gojo's comment, a smirk of his own forming on his face. "yeah, yeah, save the smartass comments for later," he retorted. "besides, it's not like you’re the epitome of gentle either. remember that time you slammed me into a wall during a sparring match to prove a point?"

gojo let out a bark of laughter, remembering that sparring session vividly. "oh, i remember," he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. "you were just being stubborn and not listening. i had to get your attention somehow."

he looked at geto, a challenge in his eyes, "besides, you got me back by tripping me later and pinning me down. that wasn’t exactly gentle, was it?" geto rolled his eyes as gojo’s laughter filled the room. he gave gojo a sharp kick on the shin, the movement quick and precise. "always so fucking loud," he grumbled under his breath.

he turned his attention back to you, checking to make sure that gojo’s boisterous laughter hadn't disturbed your sleep. seeing that you were still peacefully resting, he let out a quiet sigh of relief and returned his focus to making sure you were comfortable.

gojo let out an exaggerated yelp at the kick to his shin, wincing dramatically. "ow, ow, ow," he pouted, rubbing the spot where geto had kicked him. "you always gotta make the point with violence, don’t you?"

he watched geto as he went back to checking on you, a mix of amusement and admiration in his eyes. he had been about to retort, but seeing how geto was being so gentle and careful with you caused him to pause.

he observed geto in silence for a moment, watching how he arranged the blankets around you, his movements gentle as he made sure you were comfortable. there was a subtle shift in the way gojo looked at geto now, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a more quiet contemplation.

after a moment, he spoke up, his tone softer than usual, "you’re really good with her, you know." geto, caught slightly off-guard by gojo’s change in tone, paused his movements to look at him. he looked at gojo for a moment, a flash of surprise in his eyes, before responding.

“well, i’m just making sure she’s comfortable,” he said, his voice also softer. he reached down to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before returning his gaze to gojo, a hint of a smile on his face.

gojo, noticing the small, tender gesture, felt that strange pang in his chest again. geto and gojo quietly observed you, their eyes taking in the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. the room was filled with a different kind of energy now, the playful banter between them replaced by a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere.

the silence was interrupted by gojo, his voice a touch lower than usual. "how’d you learn to be so gentle, anyway?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone. he looked over at geto, his eyes studying his profile. geto glanced over at gojo, his eyebrows raising slightly at the unexpected question. he thought for a moment before answering.

"well, it’s not like i’ve been a brute all my life," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. he leaned back slightly, leaning against the wall beside the bed.

"i just... pick up on things, i guess," he continued, his gaze returning to you, his features softening a bit. "people are different. some need a rougher approach, some need a gentler touch." gojo, leaning against the bed frame, considered geto's words. there was a lot he could tease geto about - his rough demeanor, his directness, the fact that he looked like he could intimidate just about anyone - but gojo found himself wanting to hear more.

"yeah, you've always been pretty observant," he mused, his eyes flickering between geto and you.

a moment of silence passed before he spoke up again, his tone a bit quieter. "but with her, you seem more... i don’t know, tender. more careful." geto paused, reflecting on gojo's observation. there was a truth to his words. while he could be rough and strict with others, with you, it was different. he found himself being more patient, more understanding, more... tender.

he looked back at you, his eyes tracing over your features, before returning his gaze to gojo.

"i guess," he said slowly, "it’s different with her. i don’t know. i just... feel the need to be gentler, more careful. it’s automatic, i suppose." gojo, listening intently, watched as geto's gaze returned to you, his words hanging in the air.

the usual playful banter about geto's demeanor he had in mind faded to the background as he focused on the current conversation. he felt a tug at his chest, a strange mixture of curiosity and something else he couldn't quite identify.

he looked at geto, his eyes holding his gaze for a few seconds before he responded, his voice almost a whisper. "automatic, huh?" gojo paused for a moment, letting the silence settle between them again before continuing.

"why, though?" he asked, his voice soft. "why do you feel the need to be gentler with her? what makes her different from anyone else?" there was a hint of genuine interest in his tone, mixed with something else he didn’t quite understand. geto, feeling the weight of gojo's question, took a moment to respond. he was so used to teasing and bantering with gojo that serious conversations like this were almost foreign. but he knew that beneath gojo's usual bluster, there was a depth to him that many overlooked.

he looked back at you, considering how to put his thoughts into words. finally, he turned back to gojo, his voice measured and quiet.

"i don't know. she just... makes me want to be gentler, i guess. she's different." gojo, hearing geto's response, felt another pang in his chest, stronger than before. he had expected a snarky remark or a sarcastic reply from geto, but getting a genuine response from him threw him off.

he shifted his position on the bed, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, his eyes never leaving geto's face. he studied his expression, trying to decipher what lay beneath it.

"what do you mean 'she's different'?" he pressed, his eyes not leaving him. gojo's gaze was fixed on geto, his usual demeanor replaced with a rare moment of seriousness. he knew there had to be more to how geto saw you than just wanting to be gentler with you. there was something deeper, something geto wasn’t saying outright.

he leaned forward even further, making sure geto couldn’t look away. his voice, still soft but firm, broke the silence. "come on, suguru. be honest. what makes you want to be gentler with her?" a moment passed before he added another question, his voice even lower, "why does she make you want to be gentler with her?"

gojo was acutely aware of your presence in the room, and he couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of curiosity and something more as he interrogated geto. he knew he shouldn't be pushing the subject, but the need to understand geto's sudden shift in demeanor towards you gnawed at him.

geto paused, his gaze momentarily shifting away from gojo as he recalled that night. his expression softened, a distant look in his eyes as he thought back to that quiet moment in the park.

"remember that night when we forced her to sneak out of the dorm?" he began, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. "you asked her what she really wanted, and she said she wants a gentle love." he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "i guess that's why."

the memory washed over them—sneaking out late at night, the thrill of breaking the rules, and then the calm that settled when they lay together on the grass. you were sandwiched between them, the cool night air pressing against your skin as you stared up at the stars. geto and gojo had been teasing each other, like always, but then gojo asked that question, and everything stilled.

you had spoken softly, your voice tinged with a quiet yearning that left them both silent for once. you told them about wanting a gentle love, something tender to counter the harshness you’d known all your life. it was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that etched itself into both their minds.

gojo and geto were transported back to that night at the park, the memory vividly replaying in their minds. he could still remember the way the night air felt on his skin, the way you were nestled between them, the quiet yearning in your voice as you described wanting a gentle love.

gojo's usual smirk faded, replaced by a solemn expression as the weight of your words settled over him. he looked over at you, fast asleep on the bed, a different kind of emotion stirring within him.

he turned back to geto, his voice quiet. "you've been gentle with her ever since, because you’re trying to give her the gentle love she said she wanted," gojo finished gojo’s sentence, his tone carrying a hint of realization.

gojo continued to watch you on the bed, his eyes studying your sleeping form. the usual air of arrogance and confidence he always put on was replaced by a more contemplative expression.

"so you’ve been gentle with her all this time... because you’re trying to give her what she’s never had before," he repeated, the words slowly sinking in. geto could sense a subtle change in gojo's demeanor. his eyes narrowed slightly, trying to read the expression on gojo's face. he couldn't quite place it, but he knew that look.

"what is it?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest. "you've got that look."

gojo shook his head slightly, dismissing the question, "it’s nothing."

geto raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying gojo's answer. he stepped closer to him, his gaze unwavering. "come on, you know you can’t fool me." gojo's lips curled into a slight frown as geto stepped closer to him, scrutinizing his face. he tried to maintain his usual air of indifference, but he knew geto could see right through it.

he let out an exaggerated sigh, "ugh, fine. you really know how to nag, don't you?"

he leaned back on the bed frame, folding his arms across his chest.

"i was just thinking about what you said," he admitted reluctantly. he continued to watch you on the bed, his thoughts conflicted. gojo knew he was being uncharacteristically quiet, but there was something about this whole revelation that had thrown him off. he glanced over at geto, who was watching him intently, waiting for him to continue.

"it’s just... i never expected you of all people to be the one to try and give her what she wants," he mumbled, his voice low. geto's eyes narrowed slightly at gojo’s comment, a hint of defensiveness flaring up. his tone was sharp but not angry, more curious and challenging as he shot back, "why? you want to be the one to give her that?"

his gaze bore into gojo’s, searching for something in his expression. there was a tension in the air, one that was charged with unspoken words and lingering feelings. geto wasn’t sure what he expected gojo to say, but he needed to know if they were on the same page, if they both wanted the same thing for you—or if it was something more.

geto’s fingers twitched at his sides, and his jaw tightened as he waited for gojo's answer, the silence between them thick and heavy. despite their banter and their occasional rivalry, this was different. this was about you, and he needed to understand where gojo stood, even if it meant confronting something neither of them was entirely prepared to face.

gojo met geto’s gaze with an equal intensity, the tension crackling between them. there was something different about this moment, something deeper and far more complex than their usual banter.

he held geto’s gaze, the words stuck in his throat for a moment before he forced them out, his voice almost a growl.

“maybe,” he finally admitted, the confession barely above a whisper. “maybe i do.” the silence that followed was deafening as the words hung in the air. gojo's heart pounded in his chest, the sudden vulnerability leaving him feeling raw. he rarely allowed himself to be this open, this exposed, but there was something about this moment that demanded honesty.

he looked back at geto, his expression more guarded now, trying to read his reaction as he waited for his response. geto’s eyes widened a fraction at gojo's confession, the words settling in the air like a heavy weight between them. he hadn’t expected that answer, yet deep inside, he knew there was a hint of truth behind it.

he studied gojo, his body language betraying his own conflicting emotions. his jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

"why?" he finally asked, his voice low and strained. "why do you want to be the one to give her that?" gojo’s sigh was heavy with resignation as he looked at geto. “come on, suguru,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “you know better than anyone that I’ve liked her since the start, and I also know better than anyone that you like her too.”

his eyes were locked onto geto’s, a serious expression softening the usual playful glint. “it’s not just about who gets to give her what she wants. it’s about what’s best for her. and if you think I’m willing to back down just because you’ve got this idea that you’re the only one who can be gentle with her, you’re mistaken.”

gojo’s tone was firm but edged with a subtle pleading, as if he were trying to convey that their feelings were intertwined and that there was a shared responsibility in making you happy. his confession was raw, stripped of the usual bravado and pretense.

geto’s usually composed demeanor crumbled somewhat in the face of gojo’s frankness. he hadn’t expected him to lay everything out so plainly.

he clenched his jaw, the conflicting emotions swirling in his eyes. a part of him felt defensive, threatened even, by the idea of gojo wanting to be the one to give you what you wanted. but another part of him recognized the truth in gojo’s words.

“i’m not saying I’m the only one who can be gentle with her,” he muttered, his voice tight. he turned away, looking over at you on the bed, his expression a mix of frustration and contemplation.

“but that doesn’t mean I’m going to back down either,” he added, his tone resolute. “if i can be the one to give her what she wants—what’s best for her—i’m going to do it, even if that means competing against you.”

the tension between them was still heavy, their feelings and desires all mixed up into an emotional maelstrom. gojo met his eyes again, his expression serious. “so we’re at an impasse,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of resignation. “both of us like her, both of us want to be the best for her.”

he paused, his eyes flickering between you and geto. “what now?” geto remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on your peaceful side profile. he took in the sight of you sleeping so soundly, the exhaustion from earlier seeming to have melted away. his thoughts were clearly racing, processing the weight of gojo's words and the implications they carried.

gojo, noticing geto's contemplative silence, broke the quiet with a soft, hesitant question. "do you think maybe we could ask her to be with us?" his voice was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in his tone. he looked at geto with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, clearly aware of how complicated the situation was.

geto’s eyes widened slightly at gojo’s suggestion, seemingly taken aback. he hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, but he found himself thinking it through, weighing the possibilities in his mind.

“you…you want to both be with her at the same time?” he repeated, his voice quiet.

he looked back at you on the bed, the thought of sharing you with gojo causing a strange mixture of emotions to stir in his chest. gojo watched geto’s reaction closely, his own expression revealing a mix of apprehension and seriousness. he took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on geto.

“can you bear the thought of her being with me, suguru?” gojo asked quietly, his voice carrying an edge of vulnerability. “because i know i wouldn’t be able to handle it if she was with you and not me.”

geto felt a pang in his chest at gojo’s question. the thought of you being with either of them and not the other was enough to send a strange mix of jealousy and fear coursing through his veins.

he clenched his jaw, his emotions at war with each other.

“i...i don’t know,” he answered honestly, his voice strained. “but do you think she’d even go for it?” gojo shrugged slightly, his eyes drifting towards your sleeping form. he hadn’t thought too much about how you might react to their proposition.

“it’s worth asking, isn’t it?” he said quietly, his tone laced with both curiosity and trepidation. “if we’re both on board…we should at least bring it up with her, right?” geto nodded slowly, a mixture of hesitation and intrigue on his face. he had to admit, the idea was tempting, despite the potential complications.

“i suppose you’re right,” he agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. “but we have to approach this carefully. we can’t just spring it on her out of the blue.” gojo rolled his eyes, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “yeah, i know that,” he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “i just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page. let’s figure out how to bring this up with her without making it weird.”

geto chuckled despite himself, amused at gojo’s sarcastic response. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he thought.

“well, the first step is figuring out if she’s even open to the idea,” he pointed out, his brow furrowing slightly. “how do we even go about asking her that without sounding like a pair of idiots?”

gojo chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “oh, come on, you know she already thinks we’re a pair of idiots,” he said with a teasing grin. “at least we can be idiots with a plan. let’s just be honest with her and see how she feels. it’s better than trying to play it cool and making things more complicated.” geto couldn’t help but smile at gojo’s comment. he had a point—you did often regard them as idiots, albeit endearingly.

he nodded, a hint of determination in his eyes. “you’re right,” he agreed. “we should be straightforward with her. no beating around the bush. we ask her how she feels about the idea of being with us…both of us…at the same time.” he paused, still a little wary about how you might react.

as you slept soundly, geto and gojo continued their quiet planning. they huddled together, whispering to avoid disturbing you. their plan was to approach the topic with care, ensuring that your well-being and comfort remained their top priority. their conversation was hushed, the both of them aware of not wanting to disturb your well-earned rest.

they made it a point to emphasize the importance of considering your comfort and well-being in their approach. they didn’t want to spring this complex matter on you unexpectedly, after all. they needed to find the right time and the right way to discuss it with you.

[leclerc-hs]

marked - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.

So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.

The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.

Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.

“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”

“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.

“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”

Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.

You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.

“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“

“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.

He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.

The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.

You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.

“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”

[munsonsreputation]

am i allowed to cry?

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.8k]

warnings: cursing, allusion to depression and anxiety, reader nearly has a mental breakdown over the stress of work/school/and life, steve comes to the rescue don't worry (honestly just wrote this because seasonal depression combined with school and work and life is real as fuck and we all need some comfort), also semi proof-read, sorry!

summary: it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, something too heavy for you to bear all alone, but you do, anyway. and when you finally collapse under pressure, the last person you want to worry is your boyfriend steve, but he’s your safe space, and all he ever wants you to know is that he’s going to be there for you through smiles and tears.

The fatigue settled under your eyes and in the depths of your bones like a heavy weight pulling you down. There was an exhaustion seeping from the inside out, eating you alive until you were merely a shell of yourself. Your stomach twisted in knots unsolvable even with the help of sleep or tea—you felt beyond defeated with no way out.

It didn’t matter where you were and how ‘fine’ you thought you were. The feeling of dread became embedded into your entire existence and it was getting harder to keep up the act and blame it all on school or work. Perhaps it started there, but slowly and surely did the feeling morph into every avenue you steered towards in order to escape.

Your hangouts with friends suddenly turned into an inner panic attack of sorts, feeling the need to keep up with everyone who was doing so well whilst you were barely making it out alive.

Family dinners then turned into interrogations, where they poked and prodded probably with the best intent to figure out why you were so absent, but it all just felt like an attack coming from left and right.

No matter how hard you tried to keep up the facade of being fine and telling everyone they were making a big deal out of nothing, you knew you were moments away from falling apart. At this rate, you were a machine breaking down piece by piece, rusting and stalling until you couldn’t move anymore.

And the absolute last person you wanted to shrink away from was your boyfriend, Steve.

He was the most supportive and present person in your life you could have ever asked for. He never doubted you in anything, and most times he was the one egging you on to go after your dreams. Telling you to take risks and go for it, because you always succeeded in everything you did, and even when it wasn’t on the first try, he knew you were bound to get a hang of it.

A special trait about him that you adored so much was his trust in you. He knew what it was like for people to always question his worth, to try to make it seem like he wasn’t capable or smart enough to make his own decisions so much so that other people had to step in and save him. But to be fair, Steve Harrington never needed to be saved—he just needed the right people around to show him it was okay to make mistakes and learn from it.

And you did just that.

When Steve didn’t know what he wanted to do after graduation, you never pestered him on to go off to college, committing himself to something he wasn’t one hundred percent certain about. Instead, you encouraged him to find his calling, to scour town in order to find different hobbies that had potential job opportunities. To volunteer and possibly shadow in order to widen his options.

You were always supportive and did your best to guide instead of control—and because of that; he was able to find a job that made him happy, surprisingly enough.

And likewise, while Steve never was the biggest fan of structured school, he guided you through your college path. Providing all the moral and emotional support he could offer you, and at times even going as far as to reading a textbook chapter alongside you to help you understand concepts that were all too confusing.

He never pushed too hard, and never made it seem like he didn’t care. There was a perfect balance between your understanding and his—a sort of tune that always was in perfect harmony…until it wasn’t.

You had been assuring Steve that while school and work were surely kicking your butt, you had it all under control, but that was far from the truth. Date nights were seemingly pushed back…not that he minded since he understood you needed to study and rest—but things were beginning to feel more off.

You avoided having him stay the night at your place or even just stopping by to drop you off some food. When you did spend time together, you were physically there, but not mentally. You listened intently to what he had to say, but when it was your turn, you shared little about what was going on with you, and diverted the questions back to him.

A lot of the time, you just seemed out of it. Too far away in your mind for him to reach you, and while he knew everyone had their off days and even off weeks, yours was becoming imminently permanent, and you were beginning to realize it, too.

You sat hunched over at your desk, eyes welling with tears as you stared down at your notes, then back to your textbook, then back to your notes once again. Nothing was making sense, and your patience was slim to none, batting your eyes as the tears fell onto the pages where you were too fed up to care.

Your mind was scattered all over the place, thinking about how you needed to make sense of the content in front of you, but also about the many deadlines of other assignments you had under your belt. On top of that, you had other responsibilities that needed your full attention, yet you sat there wondering how you were even going to complete one of them.

There was something that snapped inside of you. A guttle cry that you let out as you pushed yourself out of your desk chair and stood with your hands threaded roughly in the roots of your hair. Hot, vicious tears floated down your cheeks while you paced in circles attempting to calm yourself down, but nothing worked.

You needed Steve, even when you didn’t want him to see you like this.

He was at your doorstep not even a whole ten minutes after you had phoned him, asking if he would drop by. It was almost midnight, and usually at this hour your nose was buried deep behind textbooks and assignments, but he could just tell something was the matter.

He had asked rushed and worriedly, if everything was okay, but you refused to give him a definite answer, just sniffling back your cries and humming, telling him to come over as soon as he could. The drive was short, and yet for him it felt like eternity until he was face to face with you on your front porch.

“Baby,” His voice was rigid yet gentle, striding closer to you as his warm hands came down to hold your arms, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He breathed, half catching his breath from his haste, and half worried out of his mind.

He bent a little at the knees, trying to get a better look at your face in the dimly lit doorway. All the color was drained from your skin, except the red path your tears took down your cheeks and your bitten lips.

You sniffled hard, an unevenness apparent in your breathing, “N—nothing,” you lied pathetically, closing your eyes as you shook your head, “I’m just a little stressed. You don’t have to worry about m-me.”

There was lots to worry about, especially seeing you in the state that you were in. Steve had seen you stressed out many times before. Worried about running late, leaving something behind, nervous about a final exam, but nothing ever to this extent. This was more than stress, and he knew it.

“Let’s go inside and talk, yeah?” He murmured, ignoring your comment and leading you back into your home, hoping to get you to talk some more.

Guiding you to the kitchen, he switched on the lights, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table while he got you a glass of cold water and some paper towels.

“Have some water, baby,” He knelt on the ground, holding the cup of water to your lips.

You sniffled, closing your eyes tightly as you tried to catch your breath before taking a sip, letting him help you, and pulling the cusp away from your lips before you could cough up. You could feel his eyes boring through you, filled with fret wanting to get down to the bottom of the situation yet letting you go at your own pace.

He took the paper towel, crumbling it up into a small ball to dab over your cheeks and under your eyes, doing his best to soak up all the tears that kept pouring. His heart shook and broke in his chest, wondering what had happened to get you to this state of no return.

“Talk to me sweetheart,” He started, letting one of his hands come to hold your trembling one, giving you a firm squeeze. “What can I do to make it better?” He implored, just wanting to make whatever that was hurting you stop.

The desperation in his voice made another sob rip out from chest, face pinching into something painful as you hung your head low and wept as quietly as you could. You felt so weak and helpless, hating that you pushed yourself to the point where you made the one person who vowed to always be there for you feel as though he wasn’t.

“Babe, shhh, hey c’mon,” He murmured, immediately wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and burying your face in his chest, “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. S’okay.”

You hadn’t said anything just amounting yourself to a mess of tears and unspoken feelings, not knowing how you could possibly articulate what you had been going through all this time.

“I—I’m sorry,” You muffled against his chest, causing him to pull away slightly, just to look at you and shake his head wondering why you were apologizing.

“You don’t have to be sorry baby—”

“I’m fucked up, I know I am.” You blurted out, a cruelty in your voice Steve could tell was directed towards yourself, not him.

“I-I’ve been so caught up with school and work that I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend, but I swear—”

“Hey stop it.” He didn’t let you finish, furrowing his brows, determined to make you understand the words you were saying about yourself weren’t true.

“This isn’t about you not being a good girlfriend. You’re so good to me, baby and I promise you whatever it is that’s going on, isn’t because of that. Talk to me. Don’t be scared.”

He assured you with warm circles rubbed over your back, just wanting you to focus on your feelings and not on what you thought you were making him feel. The only thing that mattered to him was understanding you, and how he could fit himself into the puzzle to make it all better.

“I’m just so tired,” You broke down once again, “I don’t feel like myself anymore, and even when I look at myself…I don’t see me.” You croaked, voice breaking in between words.

“All I want to do is relax, but my brain is just on a live wire where I can’t stop thinking and then I start spiraling. If it isn’t school, then it’s work, and if it isn’t work, then I’m thinking about all of the others things I don’t have time for in between school and work.” You heaved, just feeling the panic and frustration arise at the mere conversation.

He hated how he could see the contempt you had for yourself. Fingernails biting into the palm of your hands and a deep-seated frown over your lip, as if you wanted to crawl out of your skin to be someone completely different. But there was no one like you, in his eyes. Whatever it was that you were going through he was going to stand beside you and help you get back to feeling like yourself, the girl he couldn’t imagine living without.

“I’m here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” He murmured, pushing the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face. “You work so hard all the time, you deserve a break.”

“I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, rubbing exhaustingly at your eyes, “I physically can’t. I can’t fall behind when I already am.”

You wanted to listen to his advice, the knowing that deep down he was so very right, but you couldn’t look past the idea of letting people down and falling behind when you knew it was impossible to play catch up.

Steve knew how you operated on a one track mind to get things done and out of the way, which was obviously ideal. However, the amount of physical, emotional, and mental strain the work ethic had put you in was enough confirmation that he needed to step in before it got worse.

“Listen to me, hon,” He said tenderly, grasping your face in his hands, “You need a break. I’m not saying you have to abandon everything, but you need to take it easy on yourself. Learn how to step away and breathe. You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep this up…and you know I can’t live without you.”

His sentiment was true and sweet, something he was able to be at all times, even at times like this.

“I’m not going to let you fall behind, baby.” He promised you, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks, pressing a chaste kiss over your lips before he continued, “I’ll help you and we can take it on together, but you can’t keep stuff like this from me okay? The last thing I ever want you to feel is like you have to do it all alone.”

You sniffled, nodding as you swallowed back the lump in your throat, hiccuping slightly, “I-I know, I’m just usually so good at taking on everything, but I don’t know what happened.” You admitted with a shrug.

He nodded understandingly. “You might not feel it, but you’re overworked and that’s okay. I’m going to be here to help any way I can. With school, with work…with breaks.” He smiled softly.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You stared up at him apologetically, wishing you hadn’t waited so long to tell him, knowing that he was always your number one confidant and supporter through everything.

Still, he shook his head, caressing your cheeks, “Don’t apologize, I’m here now and I promise it’s going to get better.”

He held you in his arms a little longer, letting you cry the rest of your tears into his chest, before suggesting to head up to your room. Agreeing, he grabbed a fresh cup of water to keep at your bedside before following you up the stairs and into your room.

Books and papers were sprawled out across your desk, hinting to him what had gone down before you called. He knew that school was beginning to take a toll on you with bigger projects and finals approaching, but had no idea it was getting worse and worse as the days passed by—but no longer, not with him around.

“Let me just…” You spoke under your breath, heading towards your desk to get everything cleaned up, now that Steve was spending the night and not wanting him to deal with the mess.

But he was quick to stop you, grabbing you gently by the wrist before you could even close the textbook, causing you to follow his lead to your bed.

“Hey…” He murmured, setting the cup down on the small table beside your lamp, “we’ll figure it out in the morning okay?”

“Hmm,” You hummed with a nod, letting him situate you into bed before toeing off his shoes and getting in beside you.

You turned to face him after he switched off the lamp, encasing you both in complete darkness. Eyes adjusting to the light, enough for you to make out his face, eyes closed peacefully, as his arms went instinctively around your frame, pulling you closer into him—the feeling you had been missing so desperately, wondering why you ever even thought to push it away.

“You know I’ll be here whenever you need me, all the time okay?” His voice broke the silence, nuzzling his face closer to yours, hoping you knew how true every word was.

“I know,” you promised, jutting your chin up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiled into, kissing you back a little harder wanting you to remember the feeling and that alone.

All the stress still lingered in the back of your mind, but the feeling that consumed wasn’t the fear or the exhaustion that had been weighing you down. It was the knowing that you were allowed to feel your feelings around Steve, and the security to know he was your person, rain or shine—and that in itself was enough for you to know it was going to be okay.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: very short one shot in honor of seasonal depression doing its big one on me...but don't worry im surviving through my safe space fiction characters!!! i hope you are all doing well and thank you again for sticking around!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[alexrosa13]

New Year's Eve

Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel; Sylus; Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff/suggestive(Rafayel, Sylus)

Warnings: minor writing suggestive content!

Note: Happy New Year you all <3 my last year as a kiddo comes to an end lol - twins fic is still in the making... 20k words already in, it will be up next year, sorry for anyone who's waiting :c

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Let's start the new year with...

You lying down on his chest with a blanked thrown over you, your palm resting next to your head, toying with the fabric of his shirt that found itself between your fingers. One of his hands on your head, playing with you hair gently while the second rests under his head.

His gaze focused on you, he felt at peace, his heart beating slowly, calm, unrushed. The night chill could be a problem, but luckily tonight it wasn't as bad. You and your lover were lying on top of the rooftop of the apartment bulding you two live in, on top of a blanket and fluffy pillows.

It was close to midnight, New Year will start soon, and you will welcome it - together, in each other embrace.

None of you cared enough to actually look up the time on your phones, how much time was left? It didn't matter at the moment.

The fireworks started to fly up, dark sky lightning up in countless colors. But instead of the once-a-year show, you were looking at each other. His eyes expressing the love he holds for you.

"Happy New Year Xavier." your soft smile bringing warm to his heart that he hoped he could keep there forever.

Your body slowly turning to come face to face with him, your hand from his chest wandering to his face, your lips getting closer.

"Happy New Year, my star." with little to no patience left, his hand on your head bringed you even closer to him, your lips finally connecting in a sweet kiss.

The sounds of celebration all around the city encouraging you to live in the moment, the hand he was resting on up until that moment moved in search of your hips, your body collapsing on top of his with your lips still moving against each other.

Even the cold midnight air were no match for your bodies which seem to be getting hotter with every passing second.

Suddenly you felt a tear in your eye, trying to break free from under your eyelid, as if all pain of the past year were to disappear together with it.

So you let it fall - right on Xavier's face, but before he could have the chance to understand the situation and move away to ask what's wrong, you pulled him in deeper, all your sorrows went away, leaving only bliss and happiness.

He was there with you, the sorce of your joy and the owner of your heart. He hopes you know, that his own belonged to you since what seem like forever and he wishes for you to never let go of it.

View of Snowcrest behind the window of your room bringed out memories from the past. The happy ones of you and your loved one, but also the ones of his pain and sorrows. The weird nostalgic feeling found it's place deep inside of your heart.

The half full mug of hot chocolate in your hand and your silhouette sitting on the rocking chair with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and with your knees brought up under your chin came into the view of your lover the moment he entered the room.

"Is one blanked enough? I don't want you getting cold." his soft voice distracted you from your thoughts, your head turning away from the window to look at him.

"I'm perfectly content here. However there is one thing that I would like, if you want me to be as comfy as I can be here." the mug in your hand meet the surface of the table nearby.

"And what is that you need?" closing the door quietly he made his way towards you.

"Love." your hand reached out to him. He couldn't help the soft giggle that left his mouth at your statement. He let you pull him closer.

You stood up and made him sit up in your place before getting comfy on his laps, like a kitty getting ready to sleep on it's favourite human.

He embraced your form cuddling up to him, your head hiding in his neck. He fixed the blanked around you, making sure to keep you warm and content in his hug.

The chair slowly stopped rocking with your movements coming to an end. His gaze fell from your form towards the window before him, the night sky making the snowy mountains look even more breathtaking that usual.

"Zayne?" he felt your warm breath on his sensitive skin, giving you a gentle hum to let you know he listens "What time is it?" your voice sounded tired, as if you were ready to fell asleep in his arms.

He looked at the clock on the wall, the moonlight bright enough for him to read the time.

"A little past midnight." your head peaked up from his shoulder, your eyes meeting.

"Happy New Year." your tired eyes gazed into his, your lips forming a soft smile.

"Happy New Year my love." your hand wandered from under the blanked to the back of his head, his eyes closed and a second later your lips found his, meeting in a soft unrushed kiss.

None of you knew for how long it lasted, maybe second, maybe minutes. You slowly pulled back, eyes not opening and your breathing getting steady. The blanked close to falling of your shoulders.

Without any word leaving him, Zayne stood up with you in his arms, one of his hands catching the blanked from falling completely.

He laid her down on the bed, making sure to tug her in nicely under the comforter and kiss her on the forehead.

With no rush he got into the bed too, lying down next to her under the cover. Her almost sleeping form turned to him and without any hesitation he pulled her closer to himself.

"Sleep well, my love."

Rafayel's art studio was full of laughter and colors today, it all started with the proposition to spend the New Year's Eve together. What was supposed to be an innocent painting session turned out to be a joyful disaster, with your faces, bodies and clothes covered in paint.

"Wait Miss Bodyguard, don't move, you would look so good with a heart painted on your neck." his paint brush touched the sensitive skin, your laughter proved to add a little challenge, the shaking of your body making the lines come out a bit messy, but the whole image still turning out pretty notherless.

"Can I draw some blue scales on my favourite fishy?" you voice full of joy reached his ears and a moment later your hand started to move his hair away from his face, getting ready to paint a masterpiece.

"Aww you better make me look like the most handsome fishy in the whole sea." he smiled, having the perfect opportunity to stare at your focused face, while you were busy with your work.

He was so mesmerised with your face that he didn't even noticed your eyes turning mischievous until it was too late. In a second his lips became covered in blue paint, he opened them in shock, taken a back.

"How dare you!" instantly in his mind there was a plan for a revenge.

You saw his gaze turning towards the red paint sitting on the floor close to you. Both of you froze. Staring into each other eyes.

In a manner of seconds you tried to stand up and run away from him, but able to predict your next move he moved faster than you, trapping you underneath him, your laughing form trying to apologise and break free didn't budge him.

He held your wrists above your head, pinning them to the floor with one of his hands, while the second took a hold of the paintbrush dipping it in the red paint.

"Rafayel do not! I'm sorry!" your pleading didn't help and in the next second your mouth got covered in paint which smelled and tasted just like... strawberry?

"Now we're even." his smile growing larger at your happiness. Suddenly you heard a loud noise outside of the windows, and a countless more following.

"Midnight." your out of breath voice bringed his attention back to you.

"Happy New Year Miss Bodyguard." he helped you sit down, the eye contact unbreakable and more intense with every second.

"Your lips are still blue." your gaze fell onto them.

"And yours are red." he saw where your eyes went, searching for an answer to his silent question in your gaze, which didn't went back up.

He saw you getting closer to him, you smeared with paint hands went up to his face, holding it with love, and messing up your previous work.

"Want to make purple with me?" your half-opened eyes finally reaching to gaze into his. He swore that you looked like you were about to faint if you didn't get what you wanted - or rather, needed.

"Anytime cutie." your lips came crushing into his, the sounds of breathless making-out meet the loud noises of the fireworks, his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you up onto his lap. His palms leaving obvious traces on your clothes.

Unexpectedly you broke the kiss, your rapid heartbeats trying to outrun each other, hot breaths mixing.

His drunk from lust gaze searched for your eyes, expression on your face matching his. He took notice of your purple lips, your tongue sticking out of your mouth to taste it.

Suddenly your hands left his face but before he could open his mouth to question you, he witnessed you taking off your shirt in hurry and throwing it somewhere behind you.

"Happy New Year baby." managed to leave your mouth, before they came back to his with twice as much passion and yearning than a moment before.

A Happy New Year indeed.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask, he covered your eyes with a black ribbon back in the car and proceed to carry you princess style to who-knows where.

"You'll see soon enough." once again your curiosity didn't get satisfied. You let out a huff of disappointment, your head falling down, as if pretending to faint, but your arms wrapped themselfs tighter around his neck. You couldn't see it, but you knew that his lips turned into a smirk at your attics.

That man made you wear one of the prettiest dresses you own, telling you to dress up because he is taking you out. After enjoying dinner at some fancy restaurant he brought you back to his car, telling you that there's one more place to go tonight and tying the blindfold over your eyes gently, as not to ruin your make-up.

Soon enough he finally put you down onto your feet, his hands gently took a hold of your waist, making you stand exactly where he wants you to.

"Ready?'" you heard his quiet voice right next to your ear, he stood behind you, his hands staying on your waist.

"As I'll never be." you state with a confident tone. With a quiet and short laugh he finally reaches for the ribbon, slowly pulling one end of it, making it untie itself before his hand comes back to it's former place.

Before your eyes is a huge window taking up a whole wall, you were probably standing on 20th floor of some high building. You try to took in your surroundings.

The huge room is decorated in your signature colors, you're quick to take notice of the pile made out of presents, and a banner hanging from the ceiling above it:

Happy New Year Darling

There were flowers all around the floor, you couldn't help but smile at the fact that they matched yours and Sylus' aesthetics perfectly.

"I've decided to spoil you one last time before the end of this year." you felt a kiss on your neck. Turning around in his hold you wrapped your arms around his neck just like before. His eyes glancing into yours, seeing the happiness in your gaze warmed his heart in a way he never knew were possible before meeting you.

"You really didn't have to." joyful smile found it's place on your face, Sylus wished that he brought Mephisto with him to capture that moment forever, but he had to settle for saving that image in his head instead.

"I know, but I wanted to. I love spoiling you kitten, you know that very well." one of his hands reached up to caress your chin before coming back down to take a hold of your hips.

"I love you so much." managed to reach his ears before your lips caught his in a breathless kiss. He was quick to match your passion, kissing you like he yearned for that moment to happen since forever.

One of his hands wandered to your thigh, making it wrap itself around his hip and holding it in place, while the other found your back, gently but firmly making your body arch to his liking, his face now right above yours and your bodies pressed together.

The loud sounds from the outside world caught your attention. You broke the kiss with a heavy breathing arching your body even more, as to see the window behind you, the upside-down image of the sky lighting up in a variety of beautiful colors meeting your eyes.

"Happy New Year kitten." you felt your lover's hot breath on your neck, before his mouth came to meet it, wet kisses making you close your eyes for a moment in delight, before your head went back up and your eyes met. You took notice of the pink blush adoring his face before speaking up.

"Good luck with putting up with me in the new year." your face came closer to his, giving his lips a quick peck before pulling back to say something more "I raise the stakes this year." with a grin on your lips you noticed his eyes lightning up and you could swore that you saw a hearts in them.

"Try me, pretty girl." his lips came crashing onto yours once again.

Oh god how you loved this man...

"Stop it!" your scream broke through the laughter, but the man above you wasn't planning on letting you win that easily. He pinned your hands above your head, not caring one bit about your kicking and squirming under him.

"Give up!" his mocking-like laugh reached your ears.

"Okay, okay! You win! Let me go you bully!" you couldn't stop your giggling even if you tried. Your play fight finally comes to an end, letting you catch your breath.

"One more insult and I won't let you go for the next half-an-hour." his second hand came to join his other one, both of your hands now in his hold.

"Please no. I'm too tired for this." your head dropped down onto the sofa's cushion, your eyes closing up to show the truth behind your words.

"Sure, sure, as if I'll believe that one of the best Linkon City's hunters has this low of a stamina." his hands finally letting go of yours. You felt his body straightening up and sitting on your hips, but not putting his whole weight onto you.

Your eyes opened, one of your hands coming to lay on your forehead. His gaze already focused on you, the grin on his lips speaking loudly about the fact that he was enjoying this.

"You better be careful and take care of one of Linkon's best hunters instead of being mean to her and making her almost die from laughter." with a soft laugh he finally pulled himself up from your body, making his way towards the kitchen area in your apartment without fixing his crumpled T-shirt.

To say that you ogled his walking form was an understatement. Gosh how could someone look this good FROM BEHIND?

Supporting yourself on your elbows you lifted your upper body a little higher, looking at the still running tv. The little clock on the bottom left corner showed that it was only 30 seconds before midnight.

You shot up from your seat and ran to the window with the view on the whole city.

"Caleb! It's almost the time!" the man was quick to put the drink he was holding up onto the countertop and join you in your waiting.

With your gaze still focused on the window you hugged his body tightly, one of his hands returned your embrace, while the second held up his phone to look at the time.

Seconds later the numbers on the screen finally showed midnight, and together with it colors lighten up the sky, making a spectacle of saying goodbye to the old year and welcoming the new one.

His phone dropped to the pocket of his pants and his other arm wrapped itself around you.

"Happy New Year pipsqueak." his lips touched your forehead, planting a quick kiss on it.

You looked up at him, the happiness perfectly visible in your eyes.

"Happy New Year Caleb." standing up on your tippy toes, your lips touched his in a sweet kiss for the first time this year.

It'll be a happy one, because it will be with him.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1658

Chapter 43:

Agatha looked at you confused for a moment, wondering how the dandelion was the key to finishing this trial and maybe even the road.

Yet a few seconds later, and after one more light turned off, it dawned upon her.

With shaky hands, she took the dry dandelion seed to the corner of her eye and gently let one last tear escape before balancing it on the little plant.

You both looked at it, but then another light turned off, leaving you only with one; a sign that was your time was almost up.

You hurried first and put your fingers into the wet ground, popping between the crack caused by Billy's powers. Digging a small shallow hole as Agatha placed the water coated seed in it.

She gently moved and moved to cover the whole with the rest of the mud, the last light above the two of you flickering; making your heart beat faster.

"I need more time!" She shouted, looking anywhere in the room; hoping whatever entity created the Road in the first place would take pity on her.

The light flickered faster and you grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly in hopes of offering her some comfort but also to keep yourself as calm as possible; the idea of dying still not fully accepted in your mind.

The light flickered faster, and there was no sign of the seed surviving.

Could you have guessed it wrong?

You feared you had led your last seconds down the wrong path and could not help but look at Agatha with a shocked but also fearful expression on your face.

She seemed to share your worry. None of you wanted to die. Not because you knew who awaited at the other side; but because you felt it was not your time.

You could talk about dying and how you were fine with it, but deep down, you were not. A part of you was ready to fight with everything that existed within, to survive.

A part of you refused to die, and you both could feel it with each beat of your heart and each breath you took.

Agatha, realizing this might be the end, acted on her instincts one last time. She wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you into her embrace, wishing to hold you close and maybe even protect you from whatever would lead into your doom.

You immediately hugged back, eyes closed and face hidden by the base of her neck. You squeezed and simply waited... praying that the ending would come quick and painlessly.

As you two held each other, ready to move into the next life together... you failed to notice that the little seedling you worked together to plant... was blooming.

The seed started to grow in the little cracks between the two of you, and soon, a flower had developed. Its bright yellow colours stood out against the grey and white morgue room you were in.

And as if time was moving too fast for it, it started to dry up until a fluffy round dandelion took its place; the full life cycle took place in front of your eyes.

Suddenly, the light stopped flickering, and all the other ones turned on; showering you and the room with purple light.

The sudden change made you break apart from the hug and look around, realizing you were still alive. You exchanged a smile of relief with one another, but your moment was cut shot.

The first grains of dirt and ground started to fall on you, cracks appearing on the ceiling as it started collapsing.

With little time to spare you, you both got up and sprinted towards the steps; pieces of cement falling where you just stood.

Agatha was first, her fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist; pulling you along and making sure you were not going to fall behind.

She reached the closed doors at the top of the stairs and dared to look above her shoulder and yours, only to see the room quickly filing with cement, dirt and ground; the Road intending to bury you alive.

Both of you banged on the door with all your might, shouting as loud as you could; hoping someone or something would hear you. The door was supposed to open since you had finished the trial.

At last, the doors succumbed to your force, and they parted open, allowing you to climb out just the nick off time.

Once out, it took your moment to realize you were in Agatha's backyard into the real world. However, it was not the end for you yet. It was becoming evident by the green aura and the green shade of the sky.

Lightning flashed behind grey and green clouds. A huge surge of power being fell through your bodies and your magical cores.

Instincts about to drive you crazy as everything within was telling you to flee. It was an urge you had fought before, something only one person could ever cause it to you two...

Your instincts told you to look up towards the roof, and there you saw Rio with her crown and her widow veil; waiting for you at the very eye of this hurricane.

"Congratulations, my loves!" Rio cackled, spreading her arms in an overdramatic fashion. "I'm sorry I didn't have a ribbon for you to run through."

Agatha looked at Rio, upset but above all... angry. She had finished the damn trials, she had done it all, and last time she had gotten what she wanted.

Why was Rio suddenly present? So keen on presenting herself like the next trial because the green witch one was just finished.

"Where is it?" She questioned, looking her fkrmer lover dead in the eyes. "I want my prize!"

Rio stopped smiling. "So do I."

"I got you the kid out, as agreed!" Agatha reminded, making you look at her with wide eyes.

"What?" You exclaimed, looking at her as if she had grown a second head. "You made a deal with her?" You asked, trying to keep your tone calm.

After all you had been through, after actually caring for the boy... she has the audacity to make a deal? And not just with anyone but with Rio!

The only entity out there whose deals only had one condition.

Agatha did not dare to look at you, trying to hide her guilt behind her usual mask, but it was practically impossible to hide it from you two; who could read her like an open book.

Rio looked intrigued, always enjoying some good drama. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

You looked at Agatha but focused on Rio once again. "No," you answered, humouring her.

"Agatha here, made a deal. The boy for her life," Rio confirmed your theory with a few words. "But the true question here is...he's now where?" She asked rhetorically, using all of her drama. "He was supposed to surrender himself. That means you're coming with me." A finger was pointed at Agatha.

Despite everything, you refused to let Rio take Agatha; take her soul.

You knew she could not kill due to the rules, but she could easily wound and harm and torture until the victims begged for death... and most of the times they chose to end the suffering themselves, in rather drastic ways.

You had witnessed her dark influence when chasing those who tried to escape her. You had felt her cold touch. You had been at the other end of her sadistic side even during supposed tender moments...

And you would have to be dead to let her have Agatha.

"No, no way!" You shouted above the raging winds your voice carried by them towards Rio.

Your eyes narrowed in warning, and you summoned your white magic in your hands, ready to be used... only to feel it weak.

Looking at your hands, you were surprised with the fact that it was flickering; as if something was absorbing or killing it.

Rio stated to laugh like a true witch, amusement filled within her chest and around her aching heart; the sight beneath her a true show, and she had first row seats.

"Confused, babygirl?" She asked with a mockery tone, making you glare at her. "Sorry, I guess I hide the surprise."

Some of the green clouds summoned by her magic started to part, allowing Agatha and look at the sky.

"No...." Your voice trembled faintly with pure fear at the sight.

The moon was bright, but a black shadow had covered it around 80% of it, and it kept going; slowly obscuring more and more of the white light.

"A moon eclipse," Agatha pointed out as realisation settled.

Moon eclipses were rare, lasting only for a small amount of time, but it was your worst nightmare. The sun passing in front of the moon was interfering with your powers, weakening them... and you.

You could still use them, but they had dropped in intensity, barely able to be used defensively; impossible to be any help against someone like Rio.

Suddenly, a green vine emerged and wrapped around your neck before forcing you to the ground.

Immediately, your hands went to your neck, trying to ease the tight plan and escape, but it was mot budging. The pull of it was stable and would not choke you to death, but it did limit your air intake to a terrifying degree.

"Y/N!" Agatha exclaimed as the vine started to pull you away from your lover.

Before she could try and do anything to help, the vine pulled you away faster as Rio spoke up.

"Sorry, babygirl, but this is not your fight," she said, not an ounce of remorse for using such means to separate you. "This is between me and Agatha," she continued, making the magicless witch look at her. "I'm thinking death by a thousand cuts!"

Chapter 44

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hey! I saw you were starting to write for Blitzø so I’d love to request something! Could you do Blitzø x fem or gn reader in which reader comforts him after he has a very bad day and reassures him about his insecurities? That man needs to let himself cry in front of someone and also needs a hug! I love him sm I need more works where we can comfort him!! 🫶🏻

SORRY NOT SORRY I SKIPPED OVER LIKE 6 OTHER REQUESTS BC I NEED TO WRITE THIS ANGSTY BLITZ REQUEST IMMEDIATELY ITS TOO GOOD IM SO- 😳🥺 I just wanna hold him…enjoy, anon~

Notes: imp!reader, gn!reader, not an established relationship but mutual crushing and pining, reader works at IMP, angst to fluffy comfort

Blitzø x reader- Bad Day 💔

Blitz had the shittiest shit day ever and was ready to fall asleep and stay asleep forever. Between feeling excluded and lonely after seeing Millie and Moxxie’s displays of affection during dinner at Ozzie’s, then Fizz and Verosika giving him shit in front of the entire restaurant and Stolas being disgustingly clingy as always, Blitz felt himself breaking down, deteriorating from the inside out. It really stuck with him when he heard a restaurant patron shout, “YOU’RE SLEEPIN’ WITH AN IMP?” when referring to him and Stolas. What an embarrassment for both of them. He already has a very low self-esteem and that comment just solidified all his intrusive thoughts- no matter who he’s with, how successful he becomes, how much money he has, he’ll always be just an imp.

Blitzø stumbled through the front door of his apartment, rapidly proceeding to Loona’s room with a small smile. His precious girl always cheers him up, even when she’s in a bad mood…which is always. At the exact moment he sees the note on her door saying that she is out at a party, his smile drops to a disappointed frown. With the upper half of his body hunched over, his arms dangling limply by his sides, he trudges over to the couch and collapses on it with a huff.

This feeling was way too overwhelming- he felt suffocated by his clothes, pushed around and beaten by his own mind. He felt defeated and had no idea how to get himself out of this state of mind. He pulls out his phone to scroll through some pictures, maintaining his lonely frown the whole time. Blitz rolls his eyes at an old pic of him and Verosika. Then, he finds himself looking at a photo of his mom, sister and him, so happy, so close. After only seconds of looking into the picture, all his feelings unexpectedly erupt from him. The tears forced their way to the surface, gushing down his red and white cheeks. His chest felt like it was gonna cave in any second now, his lungs forgetting how to breath calmly.

“Fuck…” He chokes out while tossing his phone aside and sprawling out over the couch. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and overflowing, he couldn’t slow his breaths, he couldn’t even open his eyes they felt so swollen already. He had never felt so alone before. Laying on his stomach with his wet, snotty face in the pillows, he completely lets loose. A guttural, miserable, shaky moan leaves him as he weeps, his fists clenching around nothing in particular.

Just as he sucks in a quivering gasp of air, the sound of the front door opening caused him to hold his breath and stay completely still. “Blitz?” Fuck…of all people to walk in on him during his pathetic mental breakdown, why you? He’s literally praying that you’ll just go away but he knows you won’t, you’ll keep looking until you find him. He knows this, but he stays hidden and silent on the couch until you finally walk around and see him.

“Blitz? Whats wrong? What happened?” Stepping over to him quickly then kneeling on your knees beside him, he seems to retreat even further away. Blitz scoots into the couch more, turning his head away from you as he exhales then inhales and then holds it again. “Are you okay?” Obviously, he’s not okay but he nods his head anyways. “You can talk to me, Blitz.” Finally, he lets out all the air he was holding in. “I don’t wanna fucking talk right now.” He manages to mutter out between hiccups and sniffles. “Oh…okay.” Your voice a soft whisper now, Blitz again finds his hands balled up into tight fists, his fingers digging deeply into his palms. Dammit…he did mean to snap at you.

But instead of abandoning him, you shimmy your way onto the couch next to him, one arm coming to wrap around his torso as you lay your head against his back. You can hear everything with your ear to his back- his shaky breathing, his soft whimpers he’s trying so hard to hold back. “We don’t have to talk. We can just…lay here. I’m with you, okay?” You pull him closer, his back up against your stomach as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He tried so fucking hard to conceal it, to play it off in front of you, he really did but he lost it again, crumbling apart right in your arms. After hearing the sweet words of reassurance you offered him and the way your hand was now rubbing slowly across his heaving chest and the way you didn’t leave him…he can’t help but let it all out. Blitz softly shakes against you, making your heart ache for him. You’ve seen him in so many different moods and different situations, in so many silly costumes and you’ve heard some pretty vile things leave his mouth but you’ve never seen him like this. He was an absolute mess.

Slowly and carefully, you scoot closer, fitting your knees perfectly in the back of his. With a slight hum and one hand still rubbing his chest, you close your eyes as you rest against his back still. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Softly, you speak as Blitz exhales deeply once again. “Anything you need, just say the word.” Your hand stops the rubbing of his chest as you take a moment to squeeze him again.

“Don’t leave me…” With a crack in his voice, Blitz finally responds before curling in on himself even more. “I’m not going anywhere, promise.” As you nuzzle your cheek against his back. Your reply calms him, allowing his body to finally soften into your embrace. Together, you lay like this for a while, finding comfort in the sound of each other’s breathing.

Eventually, Blitz weakly turns himself around to reveal his somewhat improved mood. His eyes are puffy and glossy but the tears had stopped. His frown is a nasty one, one of the worst you’ve ever seen him wear but his eyes show a hint of something more positive as well- a look of hope? admiration? appreciation? Now facing you and looking at your face right there in front of him, hope, admiration and appreciation all swelled within him. He felt so lucky to have you, as an employee, as a friend… and maybe you two would be more one day. Maybe more…today? Right now?

“Do you think I’m… just a stupid imp? That I’ll always be seen as just an imp?” He can’t bring himself to look at you now, eyes scanning the ceiling instead. “Do you think I’m just a stupid imp? Is that all you see me as?” You immediately reply, watching as he starts to over analyze the situation. “No, no, of course not. You’re…fucking awesome.” His eyes land on your face for a second before they shift back to the ceiling. “So are you, boss.” Blitz scoffs lightly at your words, giving you a disapproving glare. “No! Really! I mean it, Blitz.” A soft sigh comes from him and he’s having a hard time believing your words.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You say with a light hearted tone and a small smile. Gently, teasingly you reach up to his face and use your thumbs to pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile. “Awww! There he is, there’s my guy!” As you pull your hands away, a smile finds your face as you notice his smile doesn’t fall, he’s smiling for real now. It’s not a big smile, honestly it’s barely a smile at all but it’s something. It’s better than the horrible frown he had on earlier.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to upset him anymore. “I’m sure.” His reply is immediate and short, making you stay quiet after. Instead of using your voice, you go back to comforting him physically. With one hand on his cheek again, cupping his face this time, Blitz leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. Simultaneously, you both close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

As you let your thumb trace back and forth over the skin of his cheek, Blitz opens his eyes again and takes this chance to just stare down at you, at your eyelashes, at your skin and any little scars or blemishes that decorate it, at your lips as they part momentarily to suck in a breath. Without thinking it over, he kisses you. It’s quick, not necessarily soft because he came in kind of fast but it wasn’t hard or sloppy or anything like that. It was sort of a test of the waters for Blitz. He wanted much more than a measly peck from you but he didn’t want go all in on you and scare you off or weird you out.

To his surprise, before he can get a good look at your reaction, you’re chasing his face as he pulls away. As you lean forward, a shocked ‘mmm’ rumbles from Blitzø’s throat when your lips meet his again. This time, the kiss lasts longer. It remains sweet and simple, there’s no tongue, no spit or even much movement from your mouths at all. After locking lips for a few seconds, you part to finally look at each other. Your smiles mock each other’s, both growing bigger and bigger.

This isn’t at all how either of you imagined your first kiss together. Blitz had something more rough and dirty in mind but he’s beyond grateful that you still respect him after seeing him in such a lowly position. You’re not sure what comes over him as he stares at your lips but he confidently yanks you back into him, kissing you again.

With his mouth still covering most of your own, he mumbles, “Earlier, you said anything I need and now I need you.” The kiss is deepened by Blitz carefully moving his lips against yours, both your heads tilting to find the perfect position. His hands roam up and down your back at an extremely slow pace as his mouth follows along, moving in tandem with yours.

“Yes, sir.”

And the rest of the evening is spent gently coddling and lovingly appreciating each other at such a close range. The kissing lasts so long, that eventually you’re both just lazily pecking each other on the lips over and over and over again with closed eyes and relaxed limbs. It’s nice, it’s simple yet romantic and Blitz has never felt more safe or comfortable in his entire existence.

“And if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right, I won’t. But please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

[buckysmith]

You’re clumsy

Mw2/CoD Headcanons

Warnings: mention of injuries and in accidentally hurting yourself , a bit fluffy

Includes

Ghost, soap, price, Rudy, Alejandro, Valeria, König, laswell Gus and Makarov

Ghost:

- it's certainly not the first time you've fallen flat on your face in front of him, and he's sure it won't be the last either

- you two were walking holding hands and there was a pleasant silence between you

- he let go of your hand for a moment to answer his cell phone which was vibrating, excused himself and walked a little away from you

- you wanted to take advantage of the time and get you both an ice cream, because first of all it was warm and secondly, who had anything against ice cream on a hot day?

- the moment he hung up he looked at you and saw you walking towards him with two ice cream corns in your hands and his only thought was . >>hopefully you won't fall now<<

- and it was as if he had sensed it you tripped over your own feet and the ice came flying towards him

- it was the moment where he stared at the ice that was now on the ground before he walked over to you and knelt down to you

- he couldn't help but grin a little though

- but that changed when he saw that you had scraped your knees.

- only a sigh escaped him when he looked into your eyes and saw that your knees hurt

- your way home was quite fast and when you arrived home he first cleaned your wound and then bandaged it before he made himself comfortable with you on the sofa to firstly make sure that you wouldn't hurt yourself again and secondly to make sure that you wouldn't break him or your apartment by your clumsiness

- do not worry, you still came to your ice cream

Soap:

- he himself is not necessarily a man who is pursued by luck, at least not in private.

- he rides motorcross with his brothers and friends? It's actually a hundred percent certain that he'll hit the only tree in a hundred miles.

- he thought he was clumsy, but after he met you he was sure he was harmless unlike you

- there wasn't a day you didn't hurt yourself unintentionally

- you missed a step and fell down the stairs, once again

- you had cut your own finger while cutting vegetables

- or you touched something from the hot oven.

- Soap wasn't sure from then on whether you were just clumsy or cursed

- because of you he never had any bandages at home because they were always needed by you

- he really loved you, but he was sure you were the reason he would have a heart attack someday

Price :

- he had already made his house baby safe, hoping you would hurt yourself less, but somehow you still managed to do it

- he found you on a ladder trying to change a light bulb and the moment he saw you and you saw him it was like someone kicked you off the ladder

- out of the blue the ladder collapsed and Price tried to catch you

- he succeeded but now he was sure he needed a new back and discs

- the problem was your clumsiness hurt not only you but him as well

- once a hot frying pan slipped out of your hand and fell on his foot

- you twisted your ankle on a hiking trail and pushed him to keep your balance, so he fell six feet and landed in mud.

- the list went on

- he also had half a pharmacy at home because of you

- he really loved you, but he was getting really scared that you were trying to kill him

Alejandro

- he just looked at you, no emotion was in his face and inside he wondered how unlucky he had been

- it was Rudy who pulled him out of his stupor and offered him a towel, while you just looked at him shocked as if it wasn't your fault that he was now standing completely wet in front of his base

- he took the towel from Rudy's hand without breaking eye contact before his eyebrow twitched and you started running away from him

- he didn't even have to run after you extremely fast because only after a few seconds you tripped over your feet and you fell down

- it was the moment he saw your wounds that he threw his revenge plan in the garbage to take care of you

- he tried to calm you down in spanish, while he took care of your wounds

- but he didn't miss the chance to swear in spanish as well

- after all he was completely soaked and already left a puddle under himself

- he could not be angry with you, but he was sure that the next time you try to water flowers he will be far away from you

- and that from now on he would take change clothes with him...

Rudy:

- You tried to help your husband

- and he knew the danger how clumsy you are and still he allowed you to help him sort the files

- you were almost done, when you somehow got caught with your sleeve on one of the thousand folders and threw them all on the floor, which with your luck also opened and all the sheets spread across the room

- and as if that wasn't bad enough you also cut yourself on one of the sheets

- and then again

- and again

- and in the end you had more little wounds than you could count

- and he was out of band-aids

- well the whole headquarters was out of band-aids

Graves:

- he thinks it's absolutely cute how clumsy you are, it makes him feel so strong right away because he can help you then

- he might have some problems yk

- but he only thinks it's cute when you trip and hold on to him and blush in shame

- but as soon as you hurt yourself he thinks about taking you to a safe place where you can't hurt yourself

- while he's bandaging you he says how brave you are and how proud he is of you

- for him it is nothing new, but still he never gets used to your clumsiness

König

- König himself was not necessarily the most skillful person living on earth

- he was military and also in an elite unit but in private nothing was safe from him

- as often as he ran by his size against a door frame or unintentionally knocked something over because it was not in his vision

- but together with you it was a disaster at your home

- you could actually go to Walmart, Target or Ikea every week to replace something in your apartment because it was broken

- you both had new bruises, wounds or other injuries all the time

- so it was nothing new for him that you hurt yourself cutting potatoes and he took care of your finger like a pro

- you joked so often about how he had to take care of you that maybe he shouldn't become a medic.

Valeria

- if she could she would wrap you up in cotton and let you live in a rubber cell where you can't hurt yourself

- she's so tired of your clumsiness that sometimes it hurts her even to see you in pain

- besides, you often manage to hurt not only yourself but also the people around you

- you trip on the stairs and take Valeria down with you?

- happened more than once

- you twist your ankle and accidentally hit Diego?

- also happened already

- a flowerpot falls out of your hand while you were standing on the balcony and hit one of Valeria's people?

- also already happened

- she is now used to you coming into her office and showing her a new wound so she just sighs and prays to god you don't kill yourself unintentionally

- or someone else

Laswell

- she can hear a knock on your door and already knows you've hurt yourself again

- her office at your home is now half a hospital ward as often as she has to fix you up

- she's incredibly glad you're not in the military, because even though she loves you to death, she knows you wouldn't last even five minutes in combat...

- or you'd accidentally kill someone of ur own in the first five minutes....

- When you first met Captain Price and his boys, Soap took you to the firing range while Kate talked to Price.

- by the end of the nice little talk they had your gun had slipped out of your hand while u shot and you had managed to broke Soap's nose while breaking your own index finger.

- That was the deciding factor for Kate to keep you away from weapons of any kind.

- She prefers you alive.

- and she doesn't want 141 to die cause of you ...

Gus

- he is sure that an evil spirit or something like that must be haunting you with how unlucky and how clumsy you are

- he loves you but he is permanently worried about you, especially when he is not at home and can keep an eye on himself

- of course you are never alone because his whole family lives where you live but it's just not the same

- they can't protect you like he can and he knows that too

- because of you he even has a little first aid kit in every room, cause you already hurt yourself in the most unbelievable ways

- it was especially funny when you fell down the stairs and with him

- he was the one who broke his arm while you landed softly on top of him

- so for him it's nothing new, but he's still afraid that you'll die one day because of your clumsiness.

Makarov:

- he is so done with you

- he is one of the most dangerous men

- one who has survived thanks to his intelligence and skill

- and then there was you in his life

- you were by far the only person he cared about and then you of all people had to be so clumsy and hurt yourself all the time

- he had even moved his guns out of your reach because of you so you wouldn't accidentally shoot his ass again

- he had asked you to bring him a gun while he was standing at the table and going through the plans of the next attack

- the gun fell out of your hand and you released the trigger, and shot him in the ass

- he was so pissed and it took him a lot not to scream at you

- he liked how you cared for him afterwards tho…. He might consider to give u a gun again just so he can have all your attention to himself

- and because he loves your guilty filled eyes

- he’s an bastard

[raitonsfw]

𝚢𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞) | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had saved you from the near pits of hell and you smiled at his invitation requesting that you join the agency. When you accepted his invitation, he was over the moon and you two quickly became inseparable. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and you thought nothing of it as you were too shy to return them. That is until he asks to spend the night in the midst of a snowstorm, let alone sleep in the same bed as you? You couldn’t say no, the thought of finally being with him weighing heavily on your mind.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, smut, first time, fingering, cunnilingus, breast play, grinding (specifically dazai grinding against the bed), p in v intercourse, a little bit of pain, teasing, slight dirty talk, cursing, consent, pining (if you squint), embarrassment (reader moans loudly and dazai fucking loves it), implied aftercare, mention of a dazai-typical suicide, reader wraps his bandages around him for him bc he cant do it himself (he’s a stubborn boy), pet names (darling, precious thing, baby, my dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: a piece for one of my dear followers, i hope you enjoy lovely! 🧡 personally adore writing dazai in every type of scenario and i also have another virgin!reader request for him with a special twist so fellow dazai lovers, be on the lookout for that in the next few days! wc: 3k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The air was astonishingly crisp and you sighed into your sleeve, the wind catching up to you to ultimately freeze you over. The coat you wore didn’t keep you very warm, it shouldn’t even be classified as a winter coat to be fair. Your boots crunched under the frost that had accumulated on the sidewalk and you bundled yourself up tightly as the winter picked up its rein over Yokohama, snow falling against the rooftops and you fumbled with your keys to the apartment door in front of you. 

Your apartment had a sickle warmth coming from it and you nearly collapsed onto the sofa from exhaustion. The day had been nothing but helping Yosano shopping in the heart of the city, the bags heavily weighing you down as she piled on top as much stuff she could possibly buy for the holidays. It was a cute gesture, you thought but you didn’t think that Ranpo needed that much candy stuffed into his stocking.

The sun had just begun to set, the lack of light barely registering as you looked around the dim apartment. It was neater than usual and you picked up the presence that somebody had cleaned it for you. The kitchen was tidied up with the exception of some baked treats sitting out on the counter and the living room had a scented candle lit against the coffee table. You couldn’t think of anyone else who had your house key besides Dazai. 

“Dazai-san?” You whispered out, looking towards the bedroom for his company. He sometimes stayed in your apartment after a much needed break from the agency dorms, away from its noise and the constant bugging of the other coworkers that resided there. You two were close, but there was still a certain distance kept between the both of you; but you trusted him nonetheless since he was the one who had invited you to join the agency. 

Peering into your bedroom, Dazai was fast asleep. Light snores came from him and you smiled to yourself as you moved over to wake him up. He was in your bed mind you, this has happened quite often and you found it adorable that he sought comfort in your bed. You knew he harbored feelings for you, that was the distance that refused to close between you two; you were simply just too shy to return his feelings and he never made a move on you in fear of making you uncomfortable. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder, the action enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes lazily opened and he yawned loudly, “Oh, Y/N-san, you’re home.” 

“Thank you for cleaning.” 

“Needed a place to escape to, Atsushi-kun was driving me insane.” He whispered, stretching out onto the bed. He looked at you with a tired expression and you wished you could just gently lean down and kiss him but your nerves got the best of you. Again. You pressed your lips together as you pulled your hand away from his shoulder. 

“Can we share the bed tonight?” Dazai asked as he sat up from the bed, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s sooo comfy.” 

You blushed at his comment, completely blindsided by the sudden request from him. You were more than fine with him sleeping over, the snow had begun to pile up on the streets and it was beginning to look like a blizzard as it blew past the windows heavily. But sharing the bed is something he’s never asked you before, the intimacy of it making your cheeks hot. Normally he’d sleep on the sofa if he ever stayed over, leaving you to the privacy of your room. 

But this was different. Perhaps he was actually going to make a move on you? You weren’t really sure, the thought of it made your pulse quicken. Whatever happened you’d embrace it with open arms, hoping for a flourishing love with the man who had saved you from your old life.

You nodded and left him alone as you went about your home routines, though it didn’t last long as he followed you around your apartment with a grin. He ordered dinner for the both of you at no cost to you at all, though in truth it was probably Kunikida’s credit card he swiped because there was no way Dazai actually had more than twenty dollars on him. He rambled on about his day between mouthfuls and you found out about his suicide attempt had ultimately failed again, Ranpo’s breakdown about having not enough yummy snacks, and the holiday break coming up for the agency that you missed out on. 

Before you knew it, the clock struck late and you were standing in front of your bed after your shower, contemplating whether this was a good idea or not. Dazai had hopped in the shower after you, the water running as background noise for your thoughts. You dried off your hair, sitting on the edge of the bed and you heard the soft melodic hum of his song flow through the apartment. 

You dimmed the lights and went to find a book to read before bed when you heard the water turn off and you mildly panicked as he came out a few moments later, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You had just gotten underneath the covers, the book opened to the page where you left off last abandoned as you gazed at Dazai. 

“I left clothes here before, haven’t I?” He muttered to himself, rummaging around your room as you sat quietly on the bed watching him. The droplets from his hair ran down his exposed chest back, something you didn’t see very often as his bandages wrapped around him fully. You felt that ache between your thighs, that cursed feeling that you knew you couldn’t satisfy very well. You were heavily inexperienced after all, the slightest bit of arousal made you quiver and you’ve never actually been with anyone due to the quietness you displayed.

“I think you left them in the second drawer, Dazai-san.” You murmured quietly, pointing to the dresser next to you. He glanced over to it then laughed to himself, opening the dresser to retrieve his clothing and a fresh stash of bandages to wrap himself in. 

“Of course I did, making myself right at home aren’t I?” He disappeared back into the bathroom and you exhaled shakily, pressing your thighs together underneath the covers. 

You heard a soft noise of disapproval from behind the closed door and Dazai came out with only his sweats on, a mild irritation waving over his face. “Kunikida-kun bought me the wrong brand. They don’t wrap right.” 

“Let me see?” You offered quietly, extending your hand out for the roll of bandages. He placed the wrinkled ball in your hand, (he must’ve balled them up in frustration), and you smoothed them out gently. Dazai sat in front of you in a criss-cross, his eyes following your movements as you started the end of the bandage at his shoulder. 

“I’ll start the wrap for you, then you do the rest yourself.” You said, holding onto the end of the wrap with your finger as you tangled the next wrap behind his neck and to the crevice of his other shoulder. You continued your motions for a bit, repeating it over and over until you got to his arms. You were practically red from the amount of time you stared at his chest while wrapping, but you kept silent as you handed the roll back to him. 

“Can you do the rest please?” Dazai pouted at you, thrusting the bandages back into your hands. You didn’t know why he wanted you to do it, he was already mostly wrapped in the bandages.

“W-Why?”

“Because I like seeing how flustered you get.” He said with a slight taunt and you dropped the bandages in his lap as you finished one loop around his arm. You couldn’t respond, a flush spreading throughout your cheeks again as you reached down to pick up the roll when you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He was hard. In front of you, in the middle of your bed, and your heart skipped a beat. You felt the arousal slick right against your panties and you could barely contain yourself as your hand faltered whilst reaching the bandages. You must’ve been a bit obvious though as your chin was lifted up to look back at him and his dark brown eyes stared back at you with a glint of lust clouding the rims.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Dazai cooed, leaning in closer to you with a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“Dazai-san…” You whispered and he closed the space between you two, finally. You squeaked in surprise as he swiped his tongue into your mouth with ease and he pushed you back into the pillows gently. He climbed over top of you as he deepened the kiss, the bandages abandoned at his side, and you placed your hands on his chest. 

“This is okay, right?” He murmured into the kiss, moving to plant kisses down your neck and your voice trailed off as you attempted to speak. 

“Um, yes but…” Dazai came up from your neck to look at you with a worried expression. 

“What is it, Y/N-san?” He asked, about to get up but you instantly held him in place. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, you definitely wanted him, wanted this– but he had to know you were a virgin. 

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered, averting your gaze with the crimson tint in your cheeks coloring even more. “Is that okay?” 

It was more than okay in Dazai’s eyes, he’d show you– the girl he grew to admire from day one, all the ways he could love you and care for you. No one else had the pleasure to touch you as he did, he wanted you all to himself. Ever since he found you stranded from the depths of despair and nursed you back towards the agency with wide eyes. That’s why he was quick to close the gap between you two, he couldn’t stand to see someone else take you as theirs. 

“Of course it is.” Dazai assured as his fingers slipped into the shorts you wore, playing with the waistband for a moment. His other hand cupped at your breast lightly and he came down to kiss it over clothed skin. You held onto his back as he laid himself fully on top of you now, grinding into your thigh slightly. “Am I allowed to…?” 

“Yes, please.” You said and you felt him ruck up your shirt, pressing open mouthed kisses into the flesh of your exposed breast. Dazai sucked a bruise into it lovingly and you moaned out softly, his tongue lapping around your nipple. A small groan escaped him when you dug your fingers into his back, his fingers sliding through the wetness of the inside of your panties. They brushed against your clit and into your heat with acuteness and you couldn’t help the loud gasp you let out. 

“My my, aren’t we loud in bed?” He teased as he pulled away from your breast to tend to the other one, the sensation of his mouth and fingers making you see stars. “You precious thing– so quiet at the agency but when I do this...” He plunged a second finger in, emitting another loud whine from you, “You go crazy.”

You quivered under his touch as he curled his fingers into you, in and out, and you watched him bow down to kiss at your clit, promptly pulling your shorts and panties down in one fell swoop. He licked a fat stripe up the entirety of your cunt next to his fingers, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue with a grunt. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy now.” Dazai moaned out into you as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and you felt the bed shake slightly and your hands gripped his hair as you looked down. He was grinding against the edge of the mattress now and honestly, you thought you were about to die right then and there; he was so fucking turned on by you that he needed the friction, any friction, and you felt another wave of arousal shoot up your spine.

Your eyes squeezed shut as Dazai rubbed gently against your sweet spot and your head fell back onto the pillows, your back arching into the delicious feeling. He moved back up onto you, his chin wet with your arousal and he wiped it off against his forearm as he bent down to cover you in hickeys.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked in earnest and you nodded with a pitch to your breath; he was incessantly rubbing at the soft spot now, like he was desperate to make you cum for the first time with someone. 

“D-Dazai-san, please…” You whimpered out, clutching onto the base of his hip and he immediately realized what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Ready now, my dear?” Dazai made eye contact with you as he leaned back and you swooned as he pulled out his fingers, your slick dripping down them. He parted your legs with his knees, wedging himself between you as he palmed at his clothed cock. “Just can’t wait, can you?” 

He pulled himself out of his sweats, stroking his length a few times as you ogled at him. He was big, much bigger than you expected and you nearly drooled out of habit. Dazai positioned himself against your entrance, resting his one hand on your waist as the other guided his cock into you, inch by inch. There was a hint of pain, the pressure surrounding your middle and you closed your eyes tightly. It went away as he stopped stretching you open instantly, searching your face for any more discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Dazai breathed out, peppering little kisses wherever he could reach to lull the pain. His hips jolted a bit as you squirmed against him, but he stayed still to let you adjust. His free hand came to caress your cheek, thumbing it softly as he made sure you weren’t in too much pain. “If it hurts too much, we can stop-”

“K-Keep going.” You wrapped your legs around him, letting him bury himself into you deeper and you both choked on a quiet whimper as he fully bottomed out. Dazai groaned out quietly as you got used to his cock splitting you nearly in two. You felt so full, the twitch of his dick nearly made you cry out in ecstasy. “You can move…” 

Dazai nodded into your skin, pulling out of you halfway, then rolling his hips back into you at a slow place. You gripped onto his back again, the bandages slipping loose as he started to fuck into you earnestly and you couldn’t hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth. Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth was agape from how good he felt and soft little ahs- filled the once silent air.

“God, so t-tight around me.” He stuttered out with a whine to his voice, rocking into you sensually as you became overwhelmed by such a throbbing feeling, sucking in a sharp breath. You felt the heat spreading underneath your skin, his cock hitting just right against your walls and you couldn’t help but arch your back up into him, your hips moving against his. The building pleasure spread like a wildfire and your thighs trembled, it wasn’t enough– you needed more.

“D-Dazai– Osamu!” You cried out as he nipped at the bud of your nipple harshly and he hummed, glancing up at you. His eyes were like the black of night, nearly enveloped in the drunk feeling and as you clenched around him hard while he languidly thrusted his hips, they squeezed shut and he panted out a few curses. 

“Shit, shit, fuck you feel so good...” He gasped out, pounding into you harder now and you felt your orgasm in the pit of your tummy. His fingers traced back to your clit, teasing it with each stroke of his cock and you writhed against him as your release hit you hard, stars imprinting on the back of your eyelids. You moaned out his name, pressing yourself further onto his dick as your walls fluttered around him and you barely heard his groan as he pulled out of you quickly. His hips stuttered and he spurted all over your tummy and chest with a broken moan, fucking into his hand until he came down from his high. 

“How was it, darling?” Dazai asked, out of breath as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He wiped off his cum with some of his loose bandages and you vaguely understood you were going to have to restart your previous wrapping as you watched him. “Everything you imagined?” 

You didn’t answer him, too embarrassed by your moans from earlier. He hummed softly in your ear, planting a kiss behind it as you sat up in his arms. “You sounded like an angel, if that’s what you’re embarrassed about.”

“How did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

“You think I don’t know you? You’ve always been shy, especially around me. And when you have such wanton moans…” He laughed to himself, helping put your clothes back on lovingly. “No, seriously don’t be embarrassed, you almost made me go feral.”

You shivered as he moved to the other side of the bed, playing back the moment in your head and your cheeks blushed red again. And Dazai, of course, noticed and teased you for it. “Still flustered?” 

That gap that had distanced the both of you silently closed as you grasped onto the feeling he gave you. You didn’t have to tell him how you felt, he knew. And he didn’t have to go out of his way to make a move when he already has. Everything was now perfect, the frost melting within the snowtops of the trees.

“Come cuddle with me, Y/N. It’s cold outside and I wanna warm you up.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[judeswhore]

o captain, my captain; jude bellingham

summary: jude knows exactly how you feel about the captain armband and he has no problem bringing it into the bedroom

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (f), unprotected p in v sex

notes: you can find my masterlist here. ALSO I HAVE 7k FOLLOWERS??? ily all sm i wna kiss all of ur heads, this is a lil celebration fic <3

"oh," jude hummed softly beneath you, fingers digging a little harder into your thighs to stop you from rocking your hips. his head turned, lips soft on the inside of your thighs and the momentary break from his tongue against your clit had you shuddering, hand slipping from the headboard to press over his own. "jude."

"shh, s'okay, baby." you shook your head, attempting to roll your hips against his hands, desperate for that little bit more to tip you over the edge. he'd been teasing for what felt like hours, pushing you right to the brink of your orgasm with his tongue and fingers before pulling it out of reach with a low chuckle. you'd lost count of how many times it had happened, your skin hot and sticky, hypersensitive to even the smallest of touches, frustrated tears threatening to spill over your waterline. "doing so good for me."

"wanna cum," it was a breathless whine, emphasised by the pout on your lips but you weren't sure jude could see that, his face still pressed against your thigh. he nipped at the soft skin and you jolted, tipped your head back and again tried to shift yourself back down over his tongue. "please."

"yeah? y'think you've earned it?" before he'd tugged you up and over his face, jude had made only one demand, you didn't cum until he said you could. and you hadn't. you'd held on until your body was on fire and ready to fall apart, the need for release hot in your tummy and your pussy so sensitive it almost hurt. you had earned it, jude was simply being a dick. you rocked forward.

"yeah, i was good." you felt him turn his head back flat, eyes meeting yours when you glanced down and he sent you a crooked and overly cocky grin. fingers smoothed along your thighs, one hand sliding to cup your ass and pull you closer. his breath was warm when it hit your clit. "please."

"y'know, i've never heard you beg this much."

"jude."

"i like it."

"can you just- fuck." his lips had wrapped soft around your clit again, suction light but enough to make your head spin. your hand shot out to steady yourself against the headboard, pleasure licking up your spine as your breath stuttered over a moan. he licked a single broad stripe from your hole to your clit, humming softly at the taste before repeatedly flicking his tongue against you. his fingers loosened on your skin and he let you rock against him, the coil in your tummy almost ready to snap.

you were already so close and so sensitive you couldn't stay quiet, couldn't stop the quivering in your thighs or the way your nails sunk deep into the skin of jude's forearm. he wasn't letting up on your clit, tongue relentless as he pushed you closer to the edge, his soft groans of appreciation sending spark through you. the tip of his tongue teased into your hole, his nose bumping against your clit and your almost collapsed into the wall.

"oh, fuck, s’good, baby, m'gonna cum." you were starting to babble, moans becoming increasingly higher in pitch and despite wanting to cum you'd subconsciously tried to shift away from jude's mouth. it was all too much, you were too sensitive and too close and he was licking over you just right, your thighs shaking so much he had to grip a little tighter to keep you in place. all it took was one last gentle lap of his tongue, a quick swirl over your clit and you were coming, head tipping back as a stream of whines and curses spilled past your lips.

your fingers dug into jude's arm, your other hand clutching the headboard so tight you were afraid it might snap and your hips rolled to ride out your orgasm. it felt never ending, like your pussy would keep clenching around nothing, your clit pulsing against his over eager tongue, your release dripping down his chin. he was dragging his tongue repeatedly through your folds, gathering everything you had to offer until you were shaking your head with a broken cry, palm pressing into his forehead to get him to stop as you lifted your hips.

"jude, too much." his movements stopped and you were offered the chance to breathe, your body feeling heavy and sluggish, the after effects of your orgasm making you just a little sleepy. jude pressed a single soft kiss to your clit, one that had you gasping and quivering in his hold and then he was helping you off his face.

you collapsed at his side in a heap, eyes closing just as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth to clear away the mess you'd made. you expected him to give you a little moments rest, a second to catch your breath and get your legs to stop shaking but no, he had other ideas. he crowded you almost instantly, mouth hot against your throat as he nudged your head back, his body slotting nicely between your legs.

you drew in a sharp breath when he nipped at your jaw, one that slipped into a whimper when he rolled his hips forward. the tip of his cock nudged your swollen clit, made your head spin and your pussy flutter and you had to grip at his bicep to ground yourself when he repeated the motion. instead of finding bare skin however, your fingers slid over the captains arm band he was still wearing, the only thing he was wearing, and you let out another pathetic noise when his muscles flexed beneath it.

"y'know i never thought someone would get so turned on by a scrap of material." jude mumbled against the skin of your neck, his tongue soothing over the mark his teeth had made. he was smirking, a cocky expression that should have annoyed you but only made you hotter. he rocked against you again.

"s'not just the material."

"no?" when you shook your head he grinned a little more, stroked one hand over the side of your face as he nuzzled his nose into your other cheek. he kissed the corner of your mouth. "y'like it when i boss everyone around?" you didn't answer but he didn't need you to, he already knew the answer.

you'd told him countless times you thought it was hot when he was captain. you liked the way his bicep bulged beneath the band, the way it stretched over his skin when he moved. you liked seeing him take control, seeing his demands grow a little gruffer with authority and there was no denying that you'd leave the match hot and flustered, thoughts running wild. jude was shocked the two of you hadn't brought the armband into the bedroom before now given how vocal you'd been about it.

"like it when i boss you around? when i tell you you're my good girl for doing what i say?" you gave a little half nod and jude's smirk only got a little deeper, a little dirtier. he kissed you once on the mouth before sitting back on his knees, fingers working the armband off.

"what're you-"

"turn around." the command in his voice had your tummy tightening in excitement and you were quick to do as you were told, turning onto your knees. jude was behind you instantly, one hand on your hips to pull you against him, back arched and ass up just the way he liked. propped up on your forearms you tilted your head to look at him, giggling when he leant in to press kisses over the side of your face.

"y'trust me?"

"course i do."

"yeah?" you nodded and he left one last kiss to your lips before settling back behind you, one hand coming down to smack playfully against your ass. you jolted forward at the impact and then wiggled against him, an invitation for him to finally press his cock into you. he didn't. "put your hands behind your back."

it took you second to realise what he was asking, a fire burning low inside of you, a fresh wave of wetness slicking between your thighs. jude was pressed against you, his hips rocking forward to tease your clit with the blunt head of his cock, not yet filling you up. when you didn't move he swatted at your ass again.

"hands." both hands went behind your back, settled together in the centre where you were arched and you shifted to press your cheek comfortably into the mattress. "look so pretty, baby." you couldn't see him but you knew he was grinning. his fingers were warm when they pressed against your wrists, holding your hands together to slide the captains armband over them, effectively pinning them to each other. an unsteady breath blew past your lips at the restricted feeling.

"this is okay, right?" jude was gripping the material in his own hand, most definitely stretching it out, but it was a way to make sure you didn't move. you gave a nod, heart thumping at the softness of his tone and the fact he still made sure to check in. you pressed back against him, whimpering when his cock slid over your pussy.

"yeah, s'okay, but-need you to fuck me, jude."

"always so desperate for it.” it was a breathless quip, muttered so low you almost missed it but then he was pressing to tip of his cock against your hole and you couldn't find it in you to argue. with one hand gripping the armband, and in turn your hands, his other held your ass, fingers kneading over the soft skin as he pushed himself in, slow to make sure you felt all of him. he bottomed out within moments, hips flush to your ass, a low moan trickling past his lips. “shit, that’s good, baby.”

“uh huh.” you nodded, cheek brushing over the cotton sheets, hips wiggling because you needed him to move, needed him to fuck you like he’d been promising all night. jude seemed to get the hint because he pressed your wrists a little harder against your back before drawing his hips back until only the tip was nestled inside your pussy.

he grunted at the sight of your walls sucking him back in, the wetness that had wrapped around him, that was already gathering at the base of his cock, dripping over his balls. in one harsh thrust he’d filled you up again, fingers sinking into the soft skin on your ass as he found a rhythm that had both of you shuddering. he was so deep at this angle, hitting spots that had you almost going dizzy, the air in your lungs almost non existent.

he was practically fucking you down into the mattress, your cheek smushed against the fabric, his cock filling you up so perfectly. not being able to touch him was making you even more whiney, your nails sinking into your palms since you had nothing else to grip on to. he squeezed a little harder at your ass, smacked it just enough to have you muffling a broken cry. you were so tight and wet around him jude couldn’t think, his cock pounding into you at a brutal pace, the sound of your pussy and his thighs against the back of yours drowned out by your constant moans.

“taking it so good, pretty girl, doin’ so well.” you could only whine his name in response, almost too far gone to form any proper sentences and jude grinned, fucked you a little harder. “y’gonna cum for me?” he gripped the arm band a little tighter, used it for leverage as he leaned a little further over you.

“yeah, yeah, s’good, right there, please, jude. m’gonna cum.”

his pace was growing sloppy, his orgasm creeping up on him, yours bubbling just at the edge and all it took was a few quick swipes of his fingers over your clit and you were toppling over the edge. your pussy gushed around him, squeezed him so tight he almost went dizzy. you were moaning uncontrollably beneath him, soft cries of his name, the occasional curse as you begged him not to stop. he fucked you through it, deep steady thrusts, his cock stretching you open as your thighs shook. he was sure if you’d been resting on your arms still they would have collapsed.

jude kept his fingers on your clit, even as you shook your head and your pussy spasmed, the last waves of your orgasm making you whimper each time the tip of his cock nudged deep inside of you. he kept you pressed into the bed with his other hand on your wrists and picked up his pace, fucked you so hard you were jolted up the bed as he chased his own orgasm.

“fuck, that’s it, baby. gonna cum and you’re gonna take it for me, yeah? be my good girl and take it.” he saw you nod, heard you mumble something but it was lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears as he came, his hips pressing tight to your ass. somewhere in his head he knew he was making more noise than usual, whimpers and moans catching in his throat as his cock pulsed. he filled you up, fucked his cum a little deeper into you to ride out his high before he was pulling out and you whined at the empty feeling, almost wanted to ask him to press back in.

jude watched for a moment, gaze trained on your pussy, swollen and wet, dripping with his cum and then he realised your hands were still pinned behind your back. he mumbled a soft apology, pressed a kiss to the bottom of your spine as he pulled the arm band from around your wrists. within a second you’d shifted on to your back and he collapsed beside you, both of you sweaty and warn out.

“you’re okay?”

“mhm, good, i’m good. that was good.” you couldn’t seem to say anything else and jude laughed, a soft sound as he turned his head and kissed the curve of your shoulder. he knew you needed to get cleaned up, the sheets were probably a mess and his cum was probably dripping on to the cotton but he made no effort to get up. he dangled the white arm band just above your face.

“we’re keeping this.”

“for?”

“to do that again. maybe i can tie you to the headboard with it.”

“we could just get actual handcuffs.” you turned to lock eyes with him and smiled when he kissed your nose. “but i want you to wear it again.”

“while i fuck you?”

“or just around the house.” jude’s nose scrunched on a laugh, his head shaking just a little.

“you’re a freak.” something sparked in his eyes, mischief that made your tummy dip as he watched your mouth. he was silent for a few seconds as though contemplating something. “maybe i could gag you with it next time.”

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Part 1

Prologue

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, citation of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, angst

There's a warm breeze in the room, crossing through the space from the windows that remained open overnight, the scent of Spanish summer mixing with Carlos' aroma in the room. Carlos' arms surround me in bed, and I can't help but wake up to the kisses he spreads across my back.

"Good morning, darling," I murmur still drowsy to Carlos, turning to face him. He looks handsome in the morning, tousled hair, a silly smile on his face, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Good morning, cariño," he replies, pulling me closer into his embrace, making me laugh; his hand is gentle as it touches my face in a light caress.

"That smile of yours makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world," Carlos says, and even after all this time together, he still makes me blush with affection.

"I'm the lucky one to have you, Carlos," I lightly kiss his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," he responds.

Everything feels empty, the house filled with love and happiness now seems like a mausoleum, the hallways echoing even with people still in them, my head on the verge of collapsing along with my entire body. I feel broken, still alone, a million beautiful memories dancing in my head and wasted by the end.

Divorce. Just thinking of that word makes me nauseous. Five beautiful years shared reduced to a single piece of paper. I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen, no matter what Carlos tried; I wouldn't give that to him. Of all the long list of concessions I made to him, divorce wouldn't be added to it.

I can't go back to my room, I can't stay here without feeling the urge to go back to him, to plead and shake him until he comes to his senses, until he loves me again.

I return to the back of the house where Carlos had set aside a place for me to paint and have a moment of peace; there are many paintings hanging in that room, various phases of my life, our life. That studio was my safe haven. I close my eyes and try to breathe, pour myself a drink and put on an Etta James record.

It's when I finally look at the blank canvas in front of me, waiting to be filled, that I feel the tears rolling down, like a dam that has reached its limit.

"Y/n?" I hear Charles' voice calling me after a long time, catching me off guard. I try to quickly wipe the tears from my face, knowing it will be in vain.

"Hi," I turn to him, my voice trembling, and Charles tries not to stare at my state.

Charles is one of Carlos' right-hand men, helping him with business and also his security.

"Carlos asked me to deliver this to you," he places the same envelope from earlier on the table, and more tears roll down my eyes. He looks at me again, and I hate to seem so fragile in this moment.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, and I can't find the strength to respond; I just nod my head and hope he leaves. Although Leclerc was a great listener and a friend in his spare time, I didn't want to talk, to tell him what was going on. It would make the whole situation too real at this moment, so I just wait for him to leave so I can break down again.

I never opened the envelope; I didn't want to see what was inside, didn't want to know what I was worth in Carlos' eyes, didn't even want to negotiate how much our life together was worth. The papers went straight to the back of my closet, hidden from the world and from my eyes.

Carlos didn't sleep at home that night, even the next, and even the next four days. It was as if he was punishing me with his absence for not accepting the separation, as if leaving me wandering alone around the house would change my mind about it. The big house kept running, with staff and security guards wandering around. But Carlos didn't bother to come back home, or to take care of his own business, sending Charles back and forth all the time to pick up his papers and important things. And it's when I finally tire of this game that I decide to corner Charles.

He looks startled when he enters my husband's office and sees me there, sitting in Carlos' chair, with my Manolo Blahnik heels propped up on the table.

"Oh, Y/n... good morning, didn't expect to see you here," Leclerc sighs, and I give him a slight smile. "I came to get some things for Carlos and I'll leave you alone again."

"Actually, Charles..." I stand up and then firmly place my hands on the stack of documents he came to fetch. "The documents are staying; tell him to come get them personally."

"Y/n... Mrs. Sainz, I've been instructed to do just that," Charles replies. It hurts me to do this with him, the man had nothing to do with our marital problems but it was the only method of passing the message to Carlos.

"Don't think I'm trying to disrupt your life, Charles. Just pass on the message to him; I want him to come back home soon. He can't keep hiding in that tiny apartment forever." I lean on the table and watch his reaction as he realizes what I've said.

"Do you know where he is?" he asks me curiously.

"I found out the moment you left here on the first day," I smile cynically at Charles, "and I wouldn't want to have to go there to pay him a visit. I believe Carlos wouldn't like that either, as it would disturb the peace of the apartment's owner."

Charles still seemed surprised by the information I had. The truth was I couldn't keep dragging myself around the house in eternal sadness, wondering where my husband was. So, I took the opportunity to send my bodyguard after Charles. Lando was still young, but he was efficient and smart; he had been by my side since I moved into this house and Carlos decided it would be good for me to have some protection. As Lando was young, maybe it would be easier for me to get used to him, and it really was; we became good friends over time. Once he found out Carlos' address, it was easy to find out whose apartment it was and who the girl was.

Martina. That name sounded bitter in my head.

"I'll be keeping this for him for now, and it was good to see you, Charles," I smile, dismissing him.

I smile as I watch him leave, feeling at least somewhat victorious today. I look at his office again, pick up the picture frame I found stored earlier in the drawer, and place it on Carlos' desk again. The image makes me smile nostalgically; the photo of our wedding fills me with a bit of hope, the happiness in our eyes, love radiating from the photo. Maybe I could make everything go back to normal.

When I get up the next day, I'm not surprised to see Carlos at the table having coffee. That was good; he had come and was at home after all. He looks at me through his coffee cup, his eyes expressing no emotion, but it's comforting to have him there, sitting in our living room having coffee.

"It's good to see you," I greet him and sit next to him at the table.

"I wish I could say the same," he says, placing the cup on the table, "but you know I hate being pressured."

"I gave you five days, dear. Believe me, I was patient and kind," I fidget nervously with the ring on my finger. "Listen, we need to talk, open up to each other... Being alone in these last few days was horrible; this huge house where..."

Carlos doesn't let me finish speaking. He smiles, that kind of evil smile he gives when he's plotting something, the same evil smile I've seen so many times directed at someone else.

"I'm glad you mentioned that," he interrupts. "You were right about saying that apartment was tiny. And as you yourself said, this house is huge, so I believe you won't mind me bringing one more guest," he speaks naturally, as if he hadn't done something horrible, as if it wasn't enough to have tainted our marriage, he had to taint our home now, as if he wanted me to hate him more each day.

"You wouldn't do that," I reply shocked.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he asks, pointing to the large door leading to the garden and the pool of the house, the smile never leaving his lips.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hi there! I absolutely love the short write-up you did for Oliver Wood. <3

Would it be possible to request a short fic of Oliver Wood x Reader (other House) reuniting during the Battle of Hogwarts when they went back to fight, after having previously dated for a short time while they were schooling but broke up probably due to differences in priorities? Like they haven’t seen each other much since the break up and then graduating but seeing each other again made them want to give it another try. Thank you!!

So sorry I'm getting to this late, hope you like it!

Oliver Wood was a Hogwarts prodigy. Everyone knew his name alongside James Potter and Charlie Weasley's; they were the Quidditch Gods of the magical school. The names Regulus Black, Lily Evans and Y/N L/N were also quite famous, but for different reasons. The geniuses, students who soon after their time at Hogwarts became published witches and wizards for their incredible discoveries and talent.

That was one of the main reasons your relationship with Oliver Wood was so short-lived. You both had extreme talents, but they led you in opposite directions, only tugging you both further and further away from each other. Whilst you worked on magical discoveries that went beyond your education at Hogwarts, becoming known as one of the greatest witches of your time, Oliver worked relentlessly to fuel his passion for his sport which would build his career, his future. It only made the few months you spent together during your last year at Hogwarts unpleasant, the love you held for each other being over-powered by ambition, which led to the inevitable break up that shook all your friends, for they thought you would remain together forever, carrying out the legacy of being the one couple that would make it past their Hogwarts days.

Alas, that did not happen.

Instead, your magical discoveries were written and taught in the few years you had developed them and were the main source of protection for all the students who had decided not to fight the war, seeking shelter in the dungeons of the castle. Finally, what feels like days later, you're muttering the counter active spell, the hand holding your wand shaking with the trauma of the war you had just endured. When the protective force field finally breaks apart, you whisper the password to the Slytherin Common room. The portrait swings open and immediately the room falls silent. You announce that Voldemort's dead and spin around, heading into the direction you had just come from. You didn't want the reactions; The good, the bad or the dirty.

You wipe some blood from the side of your face, only to notice that the fabric of your long sleeved top doesn't soak up the liquid fast enough, and that you're bleeding quite heavily. Despite trying to stay calm, you begin to pant, tears blurring your vision, but you don't let them spill, not when you're so close to the Great Hall, where someone will have time to clean you up. Unfortunately, the way you immediately collapse onto a bench alerts more than just one person, and you suddenly have what feels like an audience crowding you. "Hey, hey, give her some space." The voice is familiar to you, but you just can't put your finger on who it is. "Y/N? Can you tell me your date of birth?"

The hand holding your face is gentle, and you can barely feel the tingle of the healing spell against the side of your face, which you take as a good sign. "You know my name." You recognise, slowly blinking. "Hey Y/N try keeping your eyes open for me, okay? Get me someone with skills here!" The demand goes to someone else, but it seems that those are the only words you're able to process. "So I take it I don't look so good?" Your words come out slurred and you feel your body slumping against something, or rather someone.

Oliver has resorted to being your own personal pillow. He didn't want you to look like one of the dead bodies, laying down still on the benches of the Great Hall, which has now become both a morgue and an infirmary. The spell he did on your wound worked, but he had one of the 7th Years going into healing fix you up and get some more blood into you to make up for what you lost. He felt your body sway against his and was immediately alert, even as you gathered balance to sit up on your own. He gave you time to process your surroundings, looking down at his feet instead. It was only when you cried "Oliver!" That he averted his gaze back to you.

"Y/N" He smiled, relieved that there was some colour in your face. You seemed confused yet surprised, putting together what had happened. "I haven't seen you in... A long time. How- are you hurt?" He laughed at your maternal instincts kicking in and shook his head at you. "No, Y/N, you got hurt. You were bleeding from your head and I just barely fixed you up." A look of realisation dawned on your face. "That was you? I... Well I feel bad now."

Oliver shook his head again, an awkward silence settling over the conversation. It was you to break the silence, stating "Well, I hear you're doing well now. I watched one of your games recently, you played nice." Oliver's eyes widened and he grinned, cocking his head to the side. "I can say the same about you, Ms. Published three books. And since when did you get into Quidditch?" It was your turn to act surprised now, retorting with "I've always liked Quidditch, I just didn't used to be into it. And you know, I wanted to see what was so special about Mr. Wood's Keeper skills here." Your eyes scanned the Hall around you, and the smile on your face slowly drops. As Oliver followed your eye-line, his did too.

"You didn't? You know, lose anyone important, did you?" You ask, now sounding a lot more empathetic. "Well I almost lost you for a second there." You glance over at Oliver and smile genuinely, matching the softness in his eyes. "Let me get you home safely. Everyone's already left." You nod at his words, using his arm as a support system for you to stand. You feel his muscles contract underneath you and look back up at him.

Despite the dirt and blood that freckles his face, he looks peaceful. He looks like someone you could find peace in.