#and as I finally go to bed I go to get water and it's cracked open a bit

[siredtoelijah44]

Behave – Aaron Hotchner (18+)

about: teasing Aaron at work always ended the same way – with him putting you in your place

warnings: smut, f!reader, brief mention of Haley and Jack, implied big age gap, bratty!reader, brat tamer hotch, mentions of f!masturbation, teasing aaron at work, spicy pics, using a tie as restraints, spanking with a belt, stoplight system, unprotected sex, brief aftercare

a/n: first Aaron fic so it might be a little ooc

word count: 3568

Hotch hadn’t always been so serious. When he was younger he’d been more carefree. Before everything had happened with Haley and before the BAU had finally taken its toll on him, he’d been different. The team always liked to tease him for being a drill sergeant. But his stoicism did fade sometimes. 

When he was with Jack, he could crack a smile. The nights spent at Rossi’s place when the entire team got to take a breath and forget about the things they saw every day, were refreshing. 

And he certainly melted when he was with you. A soft smile or a gentle touch turned him into a puddle of mush. 

When he first met you it had been the day you moved in next door. 

Sweat covered your body as you carried boxes into the apartment next to his, hair sticking to your forehead. Things were precariously balanced as you tried to make it into your new place. Aaron had taken pity on you and offered help. You’d gladly taken it. 

Once you were settled you’d wound up at his door with a fresh batch of cookies as a thank you for his assistance. It wasn’t the only time you’d ended up in this situation. Aaron had given you his phone number for emergencies and you’d ended up calling him more than once when you were in need – a lightbulb you couldn’t reach that needed changing, when your fridge had gone out and you hadn’t been able to figure out how to fix it. 

You’d bring him dinner or baked goods in return for the things he did for you. But simple favors and gifts in return slowly turned into something more. They turned to late nights and drinks and getting to know each other. 

He’d been hesitant to let you in. Aaron had walls up that he didn’t want to bring down, especially considering your age. You were far too young for a man like him – someone who was so broken, who felt as if he was damaged beyond repair. 

But you weren’t deterred by his gruff exterior. Eventually one thing led to another and you wound up in his bed one night. Then it happened again. Soon enough he was officially calling you his girlfriend and introducing you to his team and telling Jack about you two. The walls slowly came down around his heart. 

The shrill sound of an alarm going off pierced through the pleasant dreams you’d been having. Eyes stayed closed but you could feel Aaron shifting, getting out of bed to get ready for the day. You could hear the bathroom door open and then the familiar sound of the shower running. 

The familiar – and welcome – sight of Aaron with a towel around his waist and wet hair was the first thing you saw when you finally pried your eyes open. You’d wanted to see him before he left, despite the sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness. Now you seemed wide awake. 

His body was on display for your greedy eyes. Water droplets clung to his skin and your eyes followed a drop as it trailed down his body, carving a path down to where his towel sat low on his hips. 

You couldn’t help the little noise – practically a whine – that escaped your lips at the sight. His gaze snapped towards you at the noise. You looked practically angelic to him. You were wrapped up in the sheets, wearing nothing but his shirt. 

“Come back to bed,” you crooned, sleep still lacing your words. 

Aaron chuckled softly. “I can’t do that, honey. I have to go to work.” 

His body was hidden from your gaze as he entered the closet to get dressed. You huffed softly. You could hear the familiar rustling of fabric as he pulled on his suit. He finally returned to your view as he did up the last of his buttons. 

“You can call out. Just this once,” you begged. 

His smile made your heart flutter. “I can’t,” he repeated. “I’ve got a load of paperwork I have to get done.” 

The pout on your lips only made his smile widen. He sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shoes on. As he sat up, his hands went to his tie. Your eyes were fixed on his hands as he tied the fabric. 

“Baby, please.” Your hands tugged at his suit jacket, urging him towards you. He knew you only called him baby when you wanted something. 

“Honey, I can’t.”

“At least gimme a kiss before you go.” 

Aaron could at least oblige that request, even if he couldn’t stay home with you. As appealing as spending his entire day tangled in the sheets with you was, the stack of paperwork on his desk had been building up. 

He’d gotten home from a case the night before and hadn’t finished his reports. He’d been exhausted and all he’d wanted was to kiss his son goodnight and crawl into bed with you. So he’d done just that but that meant he needed to get to the office to do the work today. 

He leaned in – a warm hand cupping your cheek – and pressed his lips against yours. It was a brief kiss. A quick moment of intimacy. It was all he had time for. 

“I’ll see you tonight, honey,” he murmured. He gently pushed you back down onto the bed. “Just go back to sleep.” 

You sunk back into the pillows. More than anything you wanted to pull him back into bed and make him stay with you. He’d been gone for nearly a week but didn’t have the energy to touch you last night. But now you were needy. 

Yet, Aaron just kissed your forehead and left you to drift back to sleep, considering it was 5:00 am. 

When you woke back up it was 10:00. You were restless. You were wound tight and nothing but Aaron himself would fix that. Your hands between your thighs didn’t ease the ache that had settled in your tummy – in fact it only made it worse. 

Now you were even more on the edge. Picturing Aaron like he had been this morning – dripping with water and in nothing but a towel – wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. You needed him. You needed his fingers. They were so much bigger than your own. His hands felt so much better against your skin. He always knew how to make your toes curl and pleasure overwhelm your senses. 

God, you needed him but it was still morning. He likely wouldn’t be home until late, leaving you to fend for yourself. But nothing you did seemed to work. 

By the time lunch rolled around you were losing your mind. 

There was no food in the fridge so you’d decided to get dressed to go grocery shopping. But when you got in the car you realized you didn’t want to deal with cooking. And an idea had popped into your head. It would likely end with you regretting it by the end of the night, but at least you’d have his undivided attention. 

Aaron had been hunched over his desk since he’d gotten into the office. He needed to get all the paperwork done so he could get home. He wanted to get home to you. He knew you’d been on edge this morning. He felt bad for leaving you high and dry but he had a deadline. 

What he hadn’t expected was to hear your voice floating into his office. The familiar cadence caught his attention. He looked up only to see you in the bullpen. You were perched on the edge of Emily’s desk as the team gathered around you. 

You passed out containers of take-out with their names scrawled on the boxes. Hotch watched you carefully – leaning back in his chair – as you chatted with his coworkers before you made your way to his office.

He watched as you sat on his desk, offering a container to him. He took it from you. “What are you doing here, honey?” 

“Brought you lunch,” you murmured. 

He hummed softly in response, tugging you a little closer to him. He admired you for a moment – legs on display in that short skirt as you teetered on the edge of his desk. “Is that so?” 

You leaned in, giving him a chaste kiss. “There was no food in the fridge,” you explained, launching into a long winded tale about how exactly you ended up in Aaron’s office. He nodded along. He listened to each word that left your lips, even if you went on little tangents. “Then I was craving your favorite and it felt rude to get it without you, so I brought it to you. And I figured you could all use lunch.” 

You hadn’t been entirely wrong to assume he hadn’t eaten and neither had the rest of the team. They all had a tendency to get one-track minded when it came to work. Hunger was typically low on their list of priorities. 

Aaron smiled as your story tapered off. He pulled you in for another quick kiss. He wouldn't give the team the satisfaction of much more than that, knowing they were watching from the bullpen. 

“You could’ve just called and said you wanted to see me, sweetheart,” he murmured. 

“That would’ve ruined the surprise.” 

He squeezed your knee gently. It was as much of your skin as he’d allow himself to touch right now, but it was hard to resist you in that skirt. “We both know why you really came.”

You ignored his claims that you had ulterior motives and pressed your lips against his once more. You pulled away, settling into the chair across from his desk so you both could eat your lunch. 

“Better eat up,” you told him, “or your food will get cold.” 

You were on his mind the rest of the day. He knew that had been your plan – to make him want you as badly as you wanted him. His mind kept drifting back to you. To the way you looked that morning and then the way you’d looked perched on his desk in that skirt. You knew what that skirt did to him. 

You only made things more difficult for him when you started texting him. 

His phone buzzing had snapped him back to reality. He glanced at the screen. 

Y/N: I miss you

He sighed softly but sent you a quick text back. 

Aaron: Miss you too. I’ll be home no later than seven. 

He thought that would be the end of it but no. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, but you seemed determined to test his patience today.

Y/N: sent an image

He clicked it open and regretted it instantly. You were back in bed, wrapped in nothing but his favorite lingerie set he’d bought you for your birthday. He had to clamp down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that threatened to escape. And his body immediately reacted to the sigh, his cock stirring in his slacks. 

Aaron: Behave 

The next picture was even worse. You’d pulled the cups of your bra down to give him the perfect view of your breasts. 

He cursed under his breath before glancing at the clock. It was only 4:15. If he left right now he could make it home before traffic got completely insane. So against his better judgment he quickly packed up his bag and headed out. He made some excuse to the team – he knew they didn’t believe it – as he walked out. 

Aaron: I’m on my way home. Don’t you dare do anything before I get back.

You giggled to yourself as he sent you that text. You readjusted the lingerie and stayed put in the bed. You knew he was likely pissed. Teasing him when he was at the office was definitely a risky move but you felt it would be worth the reward in the end.

Anticipation built up in your veins as you counted down the minutes until he’d arrive home. You heard the familiar sound of his key in the door soon enough.

You were sitting up on the bed, legs tucked underneath you as you waited for him. You could hear him moving through the apartment. 

He dropped his briefcase and the stack of files he still needed to get done, in his office. He locked his gun in the safe too and dropped his badge on his desk. As he walked to the bedroom – where he knew you were (im)patiently waiting for him – he peeled his suit jacket off. 

No attention was given to you as he hung his jacket up in the closet. He put his cufflinks back in their proper spot before rolling his sleeves up. He loosened his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt as well.

Only then did he turn his gaze on you. Heat flashed through his body. All his blood was rushing south as he took in the sight of you perched on the bed in that damn lingerie. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. 

You shifted on the bed, feeling scrutinized under his intense gaze, his dark brown eyes never leaving you. It was a game of who would break first and you always did.

“Aaron–” 

He cut you off with the click of his tongue. “Don’t. You can’t talk your way out of this, sweetheart.” 

His voice was deceptively sweet – all sugar and honey – in an attempt to lull you into a false sense of security. But you knew better. Even if your heart fluttered at his soft voice. You knew you were in for it tonight. 

Your mouth suddenly felt dry. Heart was pounding against your ribcage like it was trying to escape your body. 

Aaron stepped towards the bed, reaching out to touch you. His hand gripped your jaw as he leaned in for a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, “sending me those things while I was at work. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

The authority in his tone made you press your thighs together. You were already aching and desperate for him, this wasn’t helping. 

“I asked you a question.”

You blinked slowly. Your brain always turned to mush when he talked to you like this. “I’m sorry, Aaron.” 

He hummed. “That’s a start. But sorry isn’t going to get you out of a punishment.” 

You’d known that. You knew testing him, especially while he was at work, would end with you begging for mercy. But you’d needed him so bad that all rational thought had left your brain when you sent him that picture. 

“Turn around, honey.” You did as he asked. He pushed you to lay all the way down, hips hanging over the edge of the bed. Once you were settled he tugged his tie off.“Hands.” 

Another order was followed without much hesitation. You offered him your hands. Aaron tied your wrists together with his tie. He did it tight enough so you couldn’t escape the bonds but not tight enough it would hurt you. 

“Good girl.” His hand trailed down your spine. He reached the edge of your panties, tugging them down your legs. 

Your breath hitched as you heard the familiar clinking off his belt. He pulled it out of the loops, holding it so he could run it across your ass. You immediately tensed. 

Aaron took note. He reached out, gently squeezing your hip. “Color?” 

“Green,” came your breathless reply. 

“Then I need you to relax, honey. It’ll be easier if you do.”

It was easier said than done. You hated when he used the belt but it happened more often than you’d like. You tested his patience on the regular. You pushed and prodded until he snapped and bent you over his knee. Yet every time you begged him to take it easy on you, like you hadn’t purposely been a brat. 

The first strike was lighter – a warm up. Despite the fact that he was punishing you, he never wanted you to be in a lot of pain. He just gave you enough to remind you of your place. But each hit grew progressively harder. 

He enjoyed the little whimpers that escaped your lips each time he brought the belt down against your sensitive skin. 

After what felt like an eternity, he dropped the leather. He ran his hand over your now reddened ass. It made you squirm. 

He chuckled softly as you tried to escape his hand.He just tutted, smacking your ass with his hand this time. “Where do you think you’re going, hm? I’m not done with you.”

Hands pulled at you until you were flipped over. Your arms were awkwardly tucked under your body, still tied with Aaron’s tie behind your back. He took a moment to admire you. He adored this sight – your eyes glassy and legs spread for him. 

He ran a finger through your folds. “So wet for me, honey. You really did miss me.” 

“Told you I did,” you practically whined, hips instinctively bucking against his hand. 

“I missed you too, honey,” Aaron cooed. He sunk one finger into your wet heat. He curled it, hitting the spot that always made your toes curl. He added a second to stretch you open for him and brushed his thumb across your clit. 

When he pulled his hand away from your dripping cunt you mourned the loss of his touch. But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because he was pushing his slacks and boxers down enough to free his cock. He was already achingly hard. 

“You see what you do to me?” he asked, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’ve been like this since the office. Sent me that picture. You know what this damn lingerie does to me.”

The feel of him brushing against your sensitive nub, pulled a moan from your lips. He continued to tease you, running his cock through your folds but never quite filling you up. Finally he pulled your thighs around his hips and lined himself up with your entrance. 

Aaron groaned as he finally pushed himself into your greedy cunt. His head dropped against your shoulder as he finally bottomed out, hips knocking against your own. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, rolling his hips. “You feel so good, honey.” 

Your moans mingled with his own noises as he fucked you harder. His hips snapped against your own with each thrust. One hand held your hip, the other trailed up your body until it settled on your neck. Aaron didn’t squeeze but just let you feel the weight of his hand on your throat. 

“Aaron,” you moaned.

Each nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. The coil in your stomach grew tighter with each roll of his hips. Eyes rolled back into your head as his head dipped down, sucking on your nipple through the fabric of your bra. 

“Gonna cum,” you told him, voice choked with pleasure. 

“I’ve got you,” he groaned against your skin, “cum for me, honey.” 

Another roll of his hips and his thumb swiping across your clit sent you toppling over the edge, coil in your tummy snapping. Your toes curled and you clenched around his length. He cursed at the feeling.

He kept snapping his hips, chasing his own high. It only took a few more thrusts before the feeling of your wet cunt was too much for him. He spilled his seed inside of you as you both rode out your orgasms. 

He finally pulled out, watching the way his release dripped out of your hole. Aaron couldn’t help himself as he settled his head between your thighs. He lapped up your combined releases, savoring the taste on his tongue. 

You squirmed. He hadn’t even given you time to come down from your first high before he was pushing you towards a second. 

“Fuck, Aaron,” you cried out. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run away from his touch or beg for more. But you didn’t have a choice as he devoured your cunt, lapping up everything you gave him. And you couldn’t even push him away with your hands still tied. 

“Just one more,” he murmured against your skin. “Just give me one more.” 

You were already overly sensitive from your first orgasm so it didn’t take much more to push you into a second. Fingers dug into your thighs, keeping them parted as they tried to clamp shut around his head. He only pulled away when you were shaking and gasping for breath. His chin was glistening with your slick, but he looked satisfied. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. “So good for me, honey.”

His hands were gentle now as he undid the tie around your wrists. He massaged your hands, trying to get circulation back into your extremities. He placed soft kisses against the skin too as he whispered sweet nothings. 

“I love you,” he told you after he had finished cleaning you up. He’d pulled you against his chest as you laid in bed.

“I love you too.” 

[lokiswifeduh]

Hi! I just recently found your blog and love your work! I couldn’t see anywhere that said if your requests were open or closed, but if they’re closed, just ignore this. But I love the detail you put into your pieces, how you show what the different characters are thinking and the dialogue and how you involve multiple people. The ones I’ve read so far have also been very relatable and the way you write what the reader is going through is very realistic so anyway I was hoping to request something with Bucky and reader that is going through a tough time and really taking it out on herself. Like a depressive episode but she stops taking care of herself (self isolating, stops taking meds, stops eating, sleeps all day, can’t sleep at night, doesn’t want to shower, etc) so Bucky and the team step in to pick her back up. Even if she’s reluctant to it they don’t let her self destruct even if that’s what she’d rather do. You see the team and Bucky being concerned and trying to figure out what to do but eventually they get her to therapy, help her start eating, make sure she takes her meds, etc. This may be partially inspired by Thunderbolts* and partially inspired by current life events. 😬🙃

Take care of you

Pairings: Avengers!Bucky x Fem!Depressed!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been going through a rough patch, which has made you completely shut down and isolate yourself from your friends and family, including Bucky. But they're always there to pick you back up.

Warnings: ANGST, Self-destruction, talk of eating disorder, insomnia, sad!reader, neglectful Bucky (happy ending promise), self-isolation on the reader's part, depression, anxiety, arguing between Bucky and Reader, eventual fluff, use of Y/N.

WC: 1.9k

A/N: Thank you so much for this request!! I am definitely open to requests, and I loved writing this. I hope it's what you were hoping for! I LOVEEE writing/reading angst.

masterlist

It all started when Bucky got back from a particularly rough mission. Something had made him internally angry, and you were just there, taking the brunt of it. That was several weeks ago, and it hadn't gotten better.

"Will you just stop fucking nagging me?!" Bucky screamed, slamming his metal arm down on the countertop, making the corner of it split and crack.

You felt like your heart had cracked a small bit, just like the marble.

You stood there in silence, genuinely shocked at your boyfriend's outburst. You and Bucky had been either arguing or not speaking for weeks. Sleeping in the same bed, yet backs were turned toward each other.

You didn't know why. He wouldn't talk to you. But this, this was the final strike. Your mental wellbeing couldn't take any more. So you nodded, walking down the hall and slamming the door to your bedroom as you crawled into the safety of your bed. You smelled his sandalwood scent on your sheets, letting the tears fall freely. Hearing the door to your shared apartment in the tower slam, you let out a sob, crying yourself to sleep.

TWO WEEKS LATER

"Has anyone seen Y/n?" Natasha walked into the Avengers' shared kitchen, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and went to sit by Steve, who was filling out mission reports.

"She hasn't been out of our room yet?" Bucky questioned back, chopping up some vegetables for the stew he was helping Wanda make. He knew you loved her food and hadn't been feeling too well lately, so he knew her homemade beef stew would cheer you up...He hoped.

Steve glanced up, still filling out a report as he spoke, "What's going on with you guys, Buck? The energy is off between you two."

"The energy?" Natasha smirked, turning her head to Steve.

He rolled his eyes, looking back down at what he was doing, "Something the spidey kid taught me, I don't know."

Natasha laughed but looked back up at Bucky, "Seriously, what is going on? She hasn't been going on missions, I barely see her at team dinners, and Friday said she hasn't seen her pick up her prescription from Med Bay in weeks."

Bucky stopped chopping the celery, setting his knife down and looking at the redhead. "She hasn't been taking her meds?"

Natasha shook her head, "Have you seen her go to therapy lately?"

Now that Bucky was thinking about it, he hadn't. He hadn't paid attention to whether you were taking your meds or eating. He really hadn't noticed if you even came to bed most nights.

"I..." Bucky looked back down, continuing to chop the food, "We're just going through something right now, I'm sure it'll pass."

It didn't.

A week later and Natasha had had enough. You had stopped coming to the kitchen, opting to stay in bed all day. You had even started calling in for every mission Steve threw you on. Something was wrong.

"Y/n?" Natasha knocked on the door, not hearing anything from the other side. A couple more knocks later, and she was fed up. Sliding a bobby pin from out of her braided hair, she slipped it into the lock and moved it around until she heard the gears unlock the door.

Walking into your shared apartment, she was shocked. The curtains were all shut, blacking out the living room. Dishes were untouched in the sink, and it looked like Bucky had made a permanent bed on the couch, his dog tags still lying beside the pillow.

Moving down the hall, she squinted in the darkness as she stopped in front of your door.

"Y/n?" Natasha knocked, making your head snap up in response. Pulling your weak body from the bed, your raspy voice called out, "One sec."

Natasha silently let out a breath, thank god you were awake and she didn't have to unlock another door without your consent.

You slipped your feet into some house slippers and wrapped your robe around your body, tying it in the front so Natasha couldn't see how much weight you had lost.

Opening the door, you tried to smile as best you could. Nat could see through it, of course. "Hey, Nat, is everything okay?"

Natasha looked at you, like really looked at you. Your eyes were dull compared to the light that was usually there. Your cheekbones had sunken in a little, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as your room. The redhead gulped, "Why don't we come in here and talk for a minute?" You wanted to decline, opting to go back to bed, but it was Natasha; you knew she was only being nice and not giving you tough love for your benefit.

"Y-yeah, okay." Closing the bedroom door behind you, you both made your way down the hall and into the kitchen. Natasha flipped on the light, making your eyes water as you hadn't been around anything compared to daylight in more than a few days.

"How about I make you something to eat? A sandwich? Or even some pasta?" Natasha kept talking over your mumbling protests, knowing she was making you food whether you wanted it or not.

You sighed, sitting silently as you watched her pull out some sandwich meat and a loaf of bread; surprisingly not molded out by now.

"Nat?" She stopped, looking at you with worried eyes. "What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to you, "We're worried, Y/n."

She was about to continue when Bucky opened the door, making you drop your head and stare at your lap as you played with your nails. You hadn't really talked to him, let alone see how far gone you were. He didn't seem to care, so you thought.

"Doll?" Bucky walked over, making Natasha move from her seat and continue working on the food she was preparing for you. "Honey, can you look at me?" You did, bringing your eyes to his ocean blue ones.

His heart dropped seeing the dark circles under your eyes, paired with the way you looked like you had lost half of your body weight. Tears came to your eyes as you saw the way he looked at you.

"You hate me."

"W-what? Why would you ever say that, doll? I don't hate you." Bucky cupped your slender cheek with his hand, his heart cracking even more from those three words you spoke.

"You won't talk to me, I-I realize i'm not physically attractive to you anymore and I nag you and-" "Shh, doll, stop." Bucky quietly calmed you down, "What are you talking about?"

Natasha quietly stepped out after putting the plate of food up on the kitchen island next to you, wanting to give you and Bucky some privacy.

"I don't know, I've just been...not myself lately, and I don't know what to do anymore, Buck." You nuzzled your hand into his palm, feeling the tears seep down your cheeks as he held your head up.

"Have you been taking your meds?" You shook your head.

He sighed, "When was the last time you ate something or even slept a full night?" You stared blankly at his chest, genuinely trying to think. "I don't remember."

Bucky silently moved forward, kissing the crown of your head. "I should've paid more attention sweetheart, I'm sorry."

You started to protest before he shook his head. "No, there's no excuse. I should've seen what was going on, and I didn't. I'm so sorry, doll."

You let your body melt into his as you cried, listening as he apologized over and over. His hand rubbed up and down your back as your tears soaked his shirt. He could feel the bones of your spine as he comforted you, hurting his heart even more.

He knew he could fix this. He would bring you out of this hole you had fallen into, even if it's the last thing he did.

-

"So what do we do?" Natasha spoke up. Everyone on the team was sitting in the lounge as Bucky walked in, having just tucked you into bed after holding you for hours. It was in the middle of the night, but with your mental wellbeing on the line, no one cared if their sleep schedule was a little messed up.

"Do we take her somewhere to get help? Like an in-patient situation?" Sam asked, making Bucky shake his head. "I'm not sending her away. She's depressed, she doesn't need to think we don't want her here." The team nodded, making Tony suggest, "What about getting her back into therapy and making sure she's taking her medication?" "I thought she was already in therapy." Wanda looked up at Bucky.

"She is, well, is supposed to be. I got an email from her therapist saying she hasn't come in for the last fifteen sessions."

"What about someone new?" Steve offered, "Sam, don't you know some people you used to work with over at the Veterans Center?"

"I might know a couple, but she's not a Veteran Steve, they only take people who've been victims of war."

"We have some contacts in different offices for Shield Agents who might take her even though she's on the team." Tony took a swig of his drink, feeling hurt over the whole situation. You were like a daughter to him, and he had been so caught up in his work lately, he never noticed.

"A female therapist." Bucky spoke up, "She'd only talk to a woman."

Tony nodded, pulling out his phone, "I'll see who I can find. Just make sure she goes."

A WEEK LATER

"It's gonna be okay, doll." Bucky sat in the waiting room with you, holding your hand as you shook your knee up and down anxiously.

You nodded, looking around as the entire team had come to support you. Natasha, Steve, Sam, Tony, and Wanda were all sitting with you, taking up almost the entire waiting room as other clients sat in awe of the Avengers next to them.

The past week had been hard but good. Sam got you out of the house and took you on a drive upstate.

Natasha got you back into the gym and helped you regain some strength.

You helped Tony out in the lab, holding a flashlight as he worked, even though he had robots that could easily have helped.

Wanda talked to you as you sat in the kitchen, watching her cook meals for the team.

And Bucky. Bucky was the one who made you start to feel like yourself again. He took you on picnics near the newly made compound. He made sure you were taking your meds and would help you wash your hair when you didn't have the energy.

Bucky held you at night like you would suddenly slip away. He kissed you with such gentleness that you believed you didn't deserve.

As the therapist called your name, you stood up on shaky legs, turning towards Bucky. "I promise I'm fine, I don't need to go, Bucky please."

"Doll," Bucky shushed you and placed a hand on your jaw, "I just want you to feel better, and this is a part of that." He kissed you softly on the lips, "We're all here for you. Every single one of us will be here when you get finished, and we'll be here to support you."

You wanted to object, but you knew you needed the help. Sighing reluctantly, you kissed Bucky once more before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

"I'll always be here, doll. I'll always take care of you." -

masterlist

[theefaggotamerica]

warning graphic jackingoff talk in the tags. tumbler dot com is a public diary.

[labradorite-princess]

I bitched so much I got what I wanted!

[youremyonlyhope]

Apparently I left my fridge cracked open. The whole day and evening. For over 14 total hours.

Great.

[suguboos]

USED TO BE MY GIRL

getting stuck baby catsitting a high maintenance ball of fur wasn't how you planned on spending your saturday. and then your ex shows up for the same thing. yay!

FEATURING: ex boyfriend! gojo satoru x fem reader

CONTENTS: 18+ content, MDNI. non canon compliant/au (he’s a ceo), kinda angsty at first but gets pretty silly :p, he’s kind of an idiot sorry, ex sex, unprotected p in v, kinda pathetic gojo, body worship, nipple play, panty-sniffing + panty taking (?), cunnilingus + fingering, missionary, hair pulling (m receiving), belly bulge mention, some aftercare

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: over two months later here it is ^.^ anyways, forst time (solely) writing for this white haired freak so lmk ur thots 🥸

@aquasoftware here it isss, hope you enjoy bae :3

“we should break up.”

when you’d spent nearly an hour and half in the shower prior to this date and another hour getting ready, the last thing that you would’ve imagined was that you were getting dumped. publicly.

fairy lights illuminated the dark sky, soft jazz playing throughout the restaurant’s speakers out into the balcony—a simple quiet evening where you and satoru had been having a pleasant dinner date.

you could practically hear your tiktok swirling down the drain—is he going to propose or he just…?

setting down the the glass of water you had in hand, you turned to look over at him just to make sure you’d heard him right, “you want to break up.”

the entirety of your relationship came flashing to the forefront of your mind along with questions that you weren’t even sure you wanted the answer to. how long had he been thinking about this breakup?

and just what was so unforgivable that he didn’t deem this relationship worth it anymore? you began relaying all the little things the two of you bickered about—like dirty dishes in the sink, socks scattered in the hallway, or picking out where to go eat.

all the little arguments that somehow seemed all too big at the moment. but surely those didn’t warrant a breakup of all things, right?

“well no, i don’t want to break up,” he stared at anything and everything but you, paying more attention to the flower bed situated beside you, “but we don’t have enough time to put into this relationship.”

“you mean you don’t want to put enough time into this relationship,” you stated plainly, folding your arms across your chest.

case in point, the two of you had finally come out to dinner after multiple ‘i can’t make it, sweet cheeks’ or ‘can we reschedule? i’ll make it up to you, princess, i promise.’

“to-satoru,” you were quick to correct yourself and fuck, that stung more than it was probably supposed to—he couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he wasn’t your toru—“we’ve been making it work so far, we can keep trying to make it work.”

the moment that satoru looked up at you, you already knew. it was practically engraved all over his face—he didn’t want to make it work, all that he was doing was simply announcing the break up to you.

“i love you,” he spoke up after a couple seconds, like that had the answer to everything, “and i don’t want you to end up hating me because this relationship will never be a priority to me. not as much as my family’s business.”

you sat there in complete silence, barely registering when the waitstaff had placed your food in front of you. food that you didn’t even have an appetite for anymore—despite wanting to try out the restaurant for a few months now. “so if this relationship wasn’t a priority to you, what was it?”

satoru tried to find the words to speak but before he could get a word in, you continued, “and if you knew, if you fucking knew—” your voice cracked, “—then why even bother in the first place? why even bother making me fall in love with you?”

each moment of silence that lingered in the air gnawed at your mind, each second that you waited for some explanation to come. “i’m sorry,” gojo reached over to take your hand, an action that you quickly rejected. you pulled your hand away, hastily getting out of your chair.

“you’re not giving me an answer, just half assed responses,” a bitter laugh left your lips, “just answer me one question, please. when did you decide this relationship just.. wasn’t worth it? that i wasn’t worth it anymore?”

“you will always be worth it to me, but—” gojo spoke up, avoiding your gaze all the while. an action that made your eye twitch—wanting to shake him by his shoulders and make him give you an answer. instead, you settled for tightening your grip around your purse.

“—but sukuna co.’s basically starting a war between the two companies, stealing away our biggest clients and investors alike. i don’t have the time to be with you. like i said, i don’t want you to hate me.”

a scoff threatened to leave your lips, tears threatening to spill with each blink you took. when he finally looked at you is that you finally spoke, “it’s a little too late for that. but fine, since you’re adamant on throwing away our relationship—we’re done. have ijichi take the stuff i left at your place to my apartment sometime in the week. i never want to see you again.”

the unfinished piece of steak you’d ordered a few minutes prior sat on the table, the only reminder that you’d ever been here in the first place. well that and the aching feeling of regret settling deep within his very bones with each step you took further away from him.

gojo satoru was a truly hopeless man.

every single thing about you consumed his every thought like an unrelenting parasite every single day, every single hour, and every single minute. he’d resorted to having one of your shirts next to him, the scent of the perfume he loved so much lulling him to sleep at late hours of the night.

and it worked for the most part. but the fantasy dissipated the moment his fingertips reached out to grab you, to hold you, only to find nothing but cold sheets and the sheer feeling of utter regret.

waking up to find your coffee mug sitting on the counter where you’d usually be leaning up against, finding himself torn between wanting to store it away in the depths of his cabinet or keep it there just in case. just in case, in the odd chance, that you’d come back to him. that he’d wake up and his stupidity was just a dream.

and usually, the latter ended up winning. the coffee mug remained in its rightful spot, stuck in time. stuck in memories of simple morning bliss.

then he found himself thinking what even was the point of having all this ‘extra’ time to himself when he couldn’t bring himself to focus in on any meetings? when all that came to mind when he filled out another report from the heavy paper stack was the look on your face.

and so, here he was begging shoko for just an opportunity to talk to you again.

after countless attempts of trying to send you extravagant bouquets of roses and cashapp requests in the thousands just begging to be unblocked. you usually accepted the money, leaving him blocked regardless.

satoru would take that as a good thing, at the very least.

“sho, pleaseee,” a loud whine left his lips, attracting some attention from those passing by. not that it necessarily mattered; he would get on his knees if deemed necessary.

“weren’t you the one who dumped her? in public, too?” shoko raised a brow, taking an obnoxious sip from her coffee.

gojo let out an offended scoff, “sho, you’re missing the point. yeah, i made a tiny little mistake but i’m trying to fix it.”

shoko simply took another sip of the black coffee in hand, giving him a quizzical look, “disregarding everything i just said, somehow you think my cat’s the answer to your problems.”

“well duh, that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. all we need is like five minutes together and it’ll be like the breakup didn’t happen,” satoru responded, taking his own obnoxious sip of the overly sweet concoction he called an ice coffee.

(a drink rumored by baristas to have the capacity to put a victorian child in the hospital)

she set her cup down, folding her arms across her chest as she faced him. a clear sign that she was about to go on a spiel about how utterly ridiculous this whole idea was. so, naturally, gojo took out his wallet, handing her a couple hundred bills as if he were handing out flyers, “please.”

shoko took the money in hand, flipping over through the bills before letting out a reluctant sigh. “you’re forgetting to include the lying and deception fee. she’s my friend, y’know.”

“fine, i’ll message her. it’s not on me if it doesn’t work out, though.”

satoru let out a quiet hum, adding in as an afterthought, “hey, silly question, haha, but you don’t happen to know if she maybe kept the flowers?”

shoko didn’t find the same amusement, staring at him blankly, “she gave them all away.”

he nearly choked on a sip from his coffee, nearly knocking his drink off the table, “all of them?! she didn’t keep a singular rose? a petal? anything!?”

passersby looked over at the table upon his little outburst yet again, having shoko hide her face behind the menu. “keep. it. down. and no, i think she mentioned smacking the vase over your head if you kept sending them actually.”

gojo quickly came to realize that maybe, just maybe, there was the odd chance that he’d need more than five minutes.

but at least step one of his plan was complete.

now to see if you’d actually show up.

“hey, sorry i’m late,” you gave shoko an apologetic smile when she opened the door,

“it’s fine, you’re not that late. i have something to tell you, though.”

you stepped foot into her apartment, leaving your shoes at the door before dropping your bag off at the kitchen counter. “yeah, what’s up?”

“so, you’re not actually babysitting her alo-” shoko barely managed to get that out without grimacing before you heard a grating voice behind you, a voice you were hoping to never hear again, “pooks, what a silly coincidence.”

you simply looked at shoko with a pleading expression, begging for this to be a joke. all you received in response was a slight grimace, her own version of an apologetic look on her face, “i wasn’t actually expecting him to show up, i’m sorry.”

gojo came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a split second before you pushed it off. and he had the audacity to look at you with his arms raised in defense, “okay, okay, jeez. but at least we’ll both be babysitting the little maniac.” like that was supposed to be any reassurance.

“more like i’ll be stuck babysitting two maniacs,” your response came out immediately, and much to your annoyance, it only made satoru’s grin spread even further.

“always so charming, princess.”

“i’ll be right back. try not to kill each other,” shoko called out, disappearing up the stairs and leaving you alone with gojo. exactly how you planned on spending your saturday off.

“so you didn’t have enough time for a relationship but you have enough time to catsit,” you finally turned to look around at him with a glare on your face, and damn. he’d even made time to hit the gym more often, biceps straining against the tight material of his black compression shirt.

it would’ve made you practically drool if you hadn’t gotten pissed all over again—he had the time for everything else but you, clearly. you quickly averted your gaze, staring at shoko’s home decor with a newfound curiosity.

“how could i give up the opportunity to catsit this little cutie? she loves me,” satoru had a cocky grin when he spoke, walking over to the cat and patting her head. a cocky grin that quickly morphed into an overexaggerated frown.

if the cat loved him—she certainly didn’t show it now. purrsephone hissed in retaliation, flicking her fluffy white tail against his arm when she turned to face the wall. “can really feel the love,” you deadpanned, making yourself at home on the couch.

satoru took that as an opportunity, plopping his bony ass next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “you’ll see, she’ll get used to me,” he remarked, making a point to flex his arm against you.

you shoved his arm away, inching away from gojo until you reached the end of the couch. “just because we’re stuck in the confines of these four walls for the next night doesn’t mean we have to get along.”

gojo wasn’t exactly sure if it was the disgust on your face or the fact that you were acknowledging him for once—but he found himself getting turned on regardless.

“so let’s just focus on keeping the cat alive for—blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff,” satoru found himself nodding along, staring mindlessly at your pretty face, “i’m so pretty, i like you. but im angry with you for some reason.”

you snapped your fingers in front of his face when you saw a bit of drool start to leak out from the corner of his lip, letting out an annoyed grunt, “you didn’t listen to anything i said, did you?”

“absolutely not, princess.”

shoko walked over to the extensive cat tree, picking up the white ball of fluff from her resting spot and placing her against her chest. “if the two idiots don’t feed you, i give you full consent to scratch their eyes out,” she cooed, letting the cat rub up against her shamelessly.

somehow, you didn’t doubt that she was being 100% serious either.

the second shoko dropped purrsephone back onto the cat tree to get her suitcase, the cat was already glaring at the two of you again. definitely loathing this idea more than yourself.

“alright, have fun. there’s a to-do list of sorts on my nightstand and if there’s anything else, just call me,” shoko called out, leaving for her medical convention. (ie: a bunch of show offs grouped together with an open bar)

purrsephone looked over at shoko with each step she took, letting out a pitiful meow before making her way down the cat tree. she hopped onto the couch, walking over satoru’s lap in circles before laying down in a ball.

"see? told you the cat just had to warm up to me," gojo began stroking through her fur, sticking his tongue out to you. the moment hadn't lasted for more than a minute—purrsephone had chosen to use his designer pants as her scratch post, digging her tiny razor sharp claws into his thighs.

“ow-ow-OW! let go, you little gremlin!” satoru let out a loud hiss, moving to pull the cat’s claws off his pants. she remained unmoving, practically attached to him now. purrsephone simply looked over at him like he was the inconvenience.

“meow.”

“please?”

“meow.”

a low huff left your lips, standing up from your spot on the couch. “alright, while you go deal with that situation, i’m gonna go see where the list is,” you approached the stairs, hastily stopping in your steps to look back at the two, “don’t mess this place up, please.”

picking up the scribbled note when you approached the nightstand, you began skimming through the contents—

shoko’s 101 guide to taking care of purrsephone

1) only eats 1/2 of a cup between 2pm-5pm

2) she only falls asleep after a warm glass of milk and singing her a lullaby (she’s really into twinkle twinkle little star)

before you could continue reading the list of demands, you heard a loud CRASH echoing through the living room up until it met your ears. “ah fuck,” you could barely pick up gojo’s complaint, taking a deep breath to brace yourself. it couldn’t be that bad, right? you’d only left for a minute or two.

wrong.

you walked downstairs to find the living room a complete mess, from cat litter sticking to the floors up to the couch and somehow even the walls to cat droplets trailing a little path around the expanse of the coffee table. you walked closer to gojo, practically in his face and digging a finger against his chest,

"you just can't do anything right, can you? i swear, it's like it goes in one ear and ou-" your complaints were quickly shut down, his lips pressing against your own before you could even muster what was happening. 

every single atom in your body was screaming to push him away, not to do this. again. but instead of doing just that, your fingers dug into his shirt and pulled him all that much closer.

kissing him felt all too familiar—a practiced dance you hadn’t quite managed to forget all the moves to. “be mad at me later, just.. let me have this please,” he pleaded, pressing his forehead against your own.

and you were certain that the man had done witchcraft, gotten some spell from a witch on etsy that’d been activated with the kiss, because somehow, someway, you found yourself nodding.

satoru hooked his fingers underneath your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh once while he made his way up the stairs. “mmph, fuck, i missed you baby,” he let out a quiet moan against your lips.

“shut it,” was your response, nibbling down on his bottom lip. your nails raked through his hair, tugging at the strands when you pulled him closer.

“yes ma’am,” satoru breathed out, lightly opening up the guest door on the far edge of the hallway. closing the door behind him, he walked over to the queen sized bed in the middle of the room before gently placing you down.

every second was savored—not willing himself to stay away from you for too long. he was hovering above you in a matter of seconds, holding your chin in between your fingers, “can i?”

once again, every thought in your mind was telling you to push him away. to remember how little he made you feel. “yes,” your mouth had a mind of its own, answering him before you thought better of it.

satoru let out a sigh, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “are you sure? i want you to want me. to want this as much as i do.”

you shook your head, reaching up and pressing your palm against his cheek. he was like a pathetic puppy, rubbing against your touch. “i do want it, toru. i want you.”

his touch was careful, almost like unraveling an expensive gift he didn’t quite want to ruin the wrapping of. a strangled breath left him upon seeing your lingerie, cerulean and lace framing your body in the best damn present he’d opened.

a cerulean blue that was too similar to his eye color—too much for him to deem as a coincidence.

looking over at you in disbelief, he asked, “when’d you make the switch to agent provocateur?”

you raised a brow at how quickly he recognized the material—deciding to leave it be though, “ever since i had seven grand to blow from a veryyy generous donor last week.”

satoru let out a quiet scoff, tracing the outline of the lace on your bra with the tip of his finger. his thumb barely circled against your clothed nipple, a featherlight touch, “and just who were you planning on showing this pretty set to?”

“wouldn’t you like to know weather boy?” a scoff of your own left your lips, rolling your eyes. but he was already in his own little world by now.

satoru had been deprived of the taste of you for months now—the very feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips nearly having him break out in a moan.

every nerve in his brain seemed to go haywire when he pressed his lips against your neck, the lingering scent of your perfume intoxicating whatever brain cells remained in that big noggin.

"did you just moan?" you raised your head as you looked down at him. never mind, not almost.

“you taste and smell good, what did you expect?” he licked a stripe down your neck, reaching your collarbone. gojo gently pulled the skin in between his teeth, sucking at the flesh. determined to leave a mark—even if you’d just have him for today.

each kiss trailed lower and lower down until he got to your shoulder, unable to resist the urge of snapping your bra strap. before you had the chance to glare at him, he reached for your back—unclasping the hooks and tossing your $300 bra to the floor.

you nearly winced.

“there’s my girls,” satoru took one of your breasts in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple, “my favorite girls. missed them too, missed everything about you, baby.”

one of his large hands engulfed your other breast, rolling his thumb against your areola while he mindlessly sucked on the one in his mouth. “there you go. arch your back for me, sweetheart,” a groan left his lips, slipping his knee in between your legs to keep them open.

satoru alternated between each breast, giving each equal attention. leaving your nipples hard and covered in his spit. “so pretty,” he whispered in awe, giving each a farewell kiss.

he made his way down to your navel, pressing chaste kisses to whatever skin he had access to. kissing everywhere but where you needed him most—where he was rubbing his knee against.

you almost expected him to pounce up at the first opportunity, but instead, he settled by the foot of the bed. his touch featherlight as he dragged his fingers from your ankle to your calf, eliciting goosebumps down your spine in his wake.

“i’m sorry,” satoru started off, pressing his lips against your right calf before moving on to the left. “never wanted to make you cry, baby,” he continued, kissing his way up your leg.

not a single inch of your body went untouched by his lips before he moved up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. you raised your hips, letting him slide them down your legs.

he looked up at you with puppy eyes, holding the slick-covered panties you in his hand. a silent request.

your eyes narrowed, “no. you’re not keeping those.”

satoru let out a whine, bringing your panties up to his nose. taking an audible whiff and closing his eyes, practically relishing in the lace. “oh come on, i’m the one who got you these, technically.”

“generous donor, since we’re getting technical,” you shrugged, “put the merchandise down on the floor.”

“i’ll get you ten more. twenty, if that’s what you want. just let me keep these,” he spoke quickly, watching the way your eyes practically turned into money signs. “and maybe if you just show them off to me.”

he’d already spent over seven grand, what was a couple more thousand?

you looked at the pair in his hand, before shrugging, “i’ll be generous and only ask for fifteen.”

satoru quickly pocketed your panties, kissing up your thigh. “the most generous,” he mused, nibbling on your inner thigh. his hands spread your legs out, presenting to him like one of the finest meals.

and he was more than ready to feast.

he leaned forward, swiping his tongue in between your folds. your fingers ran through his hair again, gripping his hair tightly. or at least.. you thought your grip was tight. it was hard to tell when satoru moaned regardless, sucking on your folds.

“so good, so good, use me, i’m all yours, always been,” just one taste of you again was enough to have him pussy drunk, babbling against your cunt. you pushed his head further into your cunt, swiveling your hips against his eager tongue, “yeah, yeah, just like that, don’t stop.”

you looked over to see satoru laying down on his stomach, completely at bliss slurping and sucking at your cunt with his feet swinging back and forth. if his mouth and hands weren’t busy, you had no doubt that he’d be twirling his hair and giggling.

“come onnn, let me know how i’m good i’m making you feel,” he pouted as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, his lips glossed over with your slick.

"fuck you," you bit down on your lip, gritting the words out in an attempt to keep any moans at bay.

"aht, aht, that's my job, cutie. and first, you gotta tell me what you want," satoru gave your thigh a loud smooch, his fingertips tracing your folds and barely dipping inside of your dripping cunt before he’d pull away. only to repeat it again.

in a moment of weakness, you found yourself relenting, “your fingers, toru. please,” it came out low, barely enough for his ears to register. and almost like clockwork, he took that opportunity to tease you further.

“what was that, baby? couldn’t really hear you,” he retorted, clicking his tongue. when you went to open your mouth, he pushed his fingers inside of your cunt. the loud squelch cutting you off completely.

“your. fingers,” you gritted out, your request coming out louder, “please.”

he pushed his fingers inside of you yet again, bringing them to his lips and swirling his tongue around them, “please what?” another tease.

“please, toru. i want your fingers,” a low whine was evident in your voice.

“there we go, baby. that wasn’t so hard, hm?” his fingers thrusted inside of you once more, curling in a come hither motion.

satoru closed his lips around your puffy clit, sucking on it before swirling his tongue. he started with drawing small circles on your nub, before your brows furrowed.

he was using your damn clit as a writing board.

the tip of his tongue carefully spelled each letter,

‘I. LOVE. YOU.’

“seriously?” it came out shakier than you would’ve liked, little gasps and unsteady breaths leaving your lips.

“mhm,” he didn’t bother on elaborating further, covering your clit in his spit as he sucked. the curl of his fingers hit that spot inside of you with each thrust, his fingers thrusting deeper than even some of your toys.

“ah ah, fuck!” you let out a moan, hips bucking into his face to meet his tongue frantically. “don’t stop, don’t stop, just like that,” each swipe and thrust brought you closer and closer, your back nearly off the mattress.

satoru simply shook his head, swiping his tongue back and forth. the idea was simply absurd—that he was even capable of thinking to stop. “not gonna stop, baby. just wanna keep tasting you,” he responded, swinging his feet back and forth again in sync with his thrusts.

you weren’t sure if you hated him or you wanted to fuck him even more. maybe a little of both.

that familiar coil tightened in your lower stomach, your nails practically digging into his scalp in response. “ah fuck, yeah, dig them in there, i can take it, i can take it,” satoru was reduced to a babbling mess yet again, each whine vibrating against your clit.

“i’m close, i’m close, gonna cum,” your moans had him pushing his hips into the mattress, seeking anything to relief his aching cock. but—this wasn’t about him. it was about you first. “come for me, baby, take what you need.”

the coil inside of you snapped, your orgasm hitting you at once. your hips stilled, your release coating his fingers and spilling out onto the bedsheets underneath. he sucked his fingers, cleaning up every. single. last. dribble.

gojo wasted no time in unzipping his pants, sliding them down along with his boxers. freed from its confines, his cock sprung up against his stomach. pink tip twitching and all—dripping drop after drop of precum.

wrapping a hand around the base, he swiped the tip against your folds. much like he’d be swiping his card later. up and down, letting your slick coat the head before he slowly pushed it inside. pushing against that initial resistance.

“biggg stretch, there we go,” a hiss escaped from his lips, feeling your walls squeeze against him tightly. he had to close his eyes, refusing to look down at you. he knew that if he did, that would be all it would take for him to bust.

satoru placed your legs on his shoulders, slowly starting to move his hips forward. pushing inch by inch inside with each thrust, up until he could see his tip bulging in your lower tummy.

“toru?” your voice broke him out of the trance, hazy blues meeting your own glazed over gaze.

“yes, baby?”

“you think maybe, just maybe, you could go a little faster?”

satoru broke out into a cheshire like grin, making you instantly regret your ask, “anything for you, my princess.”

*PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP*

the sound of your skin slapping against his own, the sound of your moans and his shaky breaths filled the room, mixing in with the heavy stench of sex. satoru’s grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging into you while he used your cunt how he pleased.

“that fast enough for you, baby?” satoru taunted, a smirk on his face. the sight in front of him was nothing short of perfect—from the way your jaw fell taut, drool leaking out from the corner of your lips with each punishing thrust. all the way down to the way your tits bounced, each bounce nearly putting him in a hypnosis.

“yes yes, fuck!” your hands dug into the bedsheets underneath as a lifeline, something to cling onto. you could even feel the slight curve to the left, each vein grazing your walls.

“y-yeah? finally good enough for you?” you could only nod in response, his cock drilling out every thought. your walls squeezed around him, toes curling against his back. you didn’t have to give him any warning this time—he simply knew.

“so good, so good,” you babbled like a broken record, his dick hitting your g-spot with such ease it had you wondering why you’d ever accepted the breakup.

“suck for me,” satoru prodded his thumb against your bottom lip. you instinctively parted your lips, swirling your tongue around it and sucking on it. all while keeping your eyes on him. he could’ve sworn you were trying to kill him now.

you released with a pop, his thumb glistening with your saliva. “ah fuck! keep going, keep going!” satoru rubbed quick circles against your clit, his own thrusts starting to grow sloppier and sloppier. heavy balls smacked against your ass with each push of his hips, one of his feet propped up against the mattress for an angle that had your eyes rolling back.

“t-toru! make me cum, please, please!” you whined, nails scraping against the cotton bedsheets. your walls clenched against him tightly, milking his cock, before your orgasm washed over you like a wave.

your release coated his shaft, your cunt squelching as he fucked you towards his own orgasm. he was close, so so close, but the man needed one more push. “tell me you love me, please,” his voice came out ragged, “i need you to tell me.”

“i love you, toru,” his name had never sounded so good, so sweet before. the quiet whisper of your admission was all it took to push him from the edge. a low groan left his lips, spurt after spurt of cum dripping inside of you. painting your walls white, pooling where he and you were still connected.

satoru pulled out carefully, the mixture of fluids dripping from his softening shaft onto the cotton bedsheets underneath. at least he’d been smart enough to use the guest room. “stay here, i’ll be right back with something to clean you off.”

he came back into the room with a wet hand towel from the guest bathroom, gently cleaning in between your legs. wiping away at the cum dripping down your legs, staining your thighs. “there we go, how are you feeling? you need water?” satoru tossed the towel to the side, pulling his pants back up.

“no, thank you. but you’re cleaning up the cat shit downstairs by the way,” you pulled the covers over your nude body, turning your back over to him. satoru let out a whine, kneeling over on the bed, “you’re not serious.”

kiss. kiss. he pressed his lips gently from your exposed shoulder blade up to your neck, his mouth ghosting over your ear when he finished. “please, baby?” he whispered, the proximity of it all making a shiver run down your spine.

a shiver that you concealed by pulling the cover tighter around your body, turning your head away from him. “no. you made the mess.”

gojo reluctantly made his way downstairs, picking up a broom for what seemed to be the first time in his life before he started to awkwardly sweep the floor. trying and failing to scoop it up in the dust pan. trying to mimic what he’d seen from one of the maids.

even the cat had woken up from her nap, staring daggers into him with beady emerald eyes. despite him feeding her just a couple minutes beforehand and trying to appease her with extra treats (the cat was not appeased). like she knew what had just taken place upstairs.

“don’t look at me like that, i’ll give you more,” satoru pouted when the cat continued to glare holes into him, possibly definitely plotting out his murder when he went to sleep tonight, “please.”

eventually, after 9 minutes of trying (and failing) to mop up the place, he broke down. he dialed shoko’s number like second nature, hoping to every entity she wasn’t completely drunk off her ass. or passed out. or both.

“heyyyyy, how you doing?” shoko slurred into the phone. at least she was coherent enough to respond. phew.

“things are fine. but…” satoru took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing he’d get, “—how do you use a broom?” the words left him in a whisper, akin to a deeply guarded shame. maybe it was.

“come again?”

he had to take another deep breath, letting out a quiet groan before repeating himself, “i’m asking you for help on using a broom.”

one second passed.

two seconds passed.

he almost had the hope that shoko wouldn’t react.

a hope that quickly died out when shoko burst out into boisterous cackles, managing to get out a broken, “you don’t know how to use one at almost thirty?”

satoru folded his arms with a petulant pout on his face, tapping his foot against the floor while he waited for shoko to get her laugh in. “no. can you just help me? your cat’s glaring at me.”

it was almost pitiful the way he clung onto every word shoko was telling him, finishing up what should’ve been a thirty minute job in an hour. he leaned back against the couch cushion, wiping nonexistent sweat from his forehead.

“how do you people do this everyday?” he let out a scoff, taking a moment to admire his surroundings. squeaky clean. absolutely no streaks on the floor (maybe a couple on the wall—they didn’t count.)

he could practically hear shoko’s eyeroll, a grunt leaving her lips, “dunno, probably by not depending on maids or whatever.”

“touché, yeah. but if you had a maid, the opportunity to babysit with my girlfriend wouldn’t have happened.”

“speaking of babysitting. sooo, how’d it go?” shoko mused from the other line, her words starting to slur together. seemingly more drunk than when the conversation first started.

satoru giggled, giggled into the phone, “oh, we’re so getting back together. it only took her like one glance and she was already soo whipped.”

“uh-huh,” and despite shoko’s obvious disinterest in the conversation, satoru continued to talk her ear out, “no, no, but i’m telling you. she wants me so bad, i swear. she practically jumped my bones.”

after nearly 20 ‘uh-huh’s’ and 15 ‘that’s crazy’s’ from shoko, he decided to hang up and go back to bed. a small smile formed on his face upon seeing you still asleep, trying to carefully tip toe his way into the opposite side of the bed.

“did i wear you out, baby?” he poked the side of your cheek when you finally stirred, propping himself up on a elbow. despite the stupid grin on his face, he couldn’t hide the sheer adoration in his eyes.

not when he stared at you like you were an expensive painting, something to be admired. scratch that—someone that he wouldn’t mind admiring if given the opportunity to.

“no, never that,” you let out a stifled yawn, rubbing your eyes. a clear indicator that he did, indeed, wear you out.

satoru let out a small snicker, nodding along before wrapping an arm around your torso. bracing himself for the moment that you’d push him away like before. much to his surprise, you didn’t.

you welcomed the cuddling—much to your tired state, scooting closer to where he was laying down.

and satoru didn’t find himself minding cleaning up cat shit again if it meant getting to hold you like this. to have you mold against him like a missing puzzle piece.

though granted, he’d like to avoid cleaning up cat shit for as long as possible.

you wrapped an arm around him, resting your head against his chest in your sleep. “i love you,” he whispered, lightly pressing his lips against your shoulder blade.

“just because we fucked doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. an i’m sorry and a couple thongs won’t fix what you said,” you muttered in your half asleep state. despite your words, you let him engulf you into his own version of a human blanket and entangle his limbs in every possible crevice.

“i know, i know. that’s why i sent the flowers too,” at the glare he’d grown so used to seeing directed his way, he decided to shut up, “okay, i’m sorry. i’ll try to show you better, i promise.” just being with you like this, holding you close against him was enough to ease the pain he’d felt the last couple months.

your embrace allowed him to find his home again, a home that he wasn’t sure he wanted to give up again when morning came. “and if you still don’t want me, just let me love you, sweets. doesn’t matter if you never wanna see me again,” he whispered, noticing a faint smile on your lips. gone as quickly as it’d appeared.

maybe gojo satoru wasn’t such a hopeless man.

[holeforzenin]

THAT GIRL IS...POISON!!!

Tw - Overstimulation, slight somno, Not proofread

A/n - hello! I know I haven’t been posting that much recently because I’m on a small tumblr break but I still decided to schedule this post so I hope everyone enjoys it!

˖ ⊹ ﾟ｡ ✧

Sweetheart—hahh fuck! Don’t you think you’re going too ngh-fast, Ohh fuckkk!” His moans escaped in a mixture of desperation and pleasure, his voice husky and filled with desire as he struggled to maintain his hold on your waist in an attempt to steady himself properly—Fuck, Satoru felt so lightheaded and dizzy, his thighs trembled as he weakly tried to recover from his pasting orgasms which was the…third one?? In a row.

It wasn’t really your intention for it to be this way. Dealing with difficult coworkers all day was challenging enough, but having to cover a shift last minute because of someone else's absence made things even tougher for you. So least to say when you finally came home from work you were sooo frustrated and had to let off some steam and you don’t know what, but something came over you seeing your pretty boyfriend, shirtless with his grey sweatpants hanging low by his hips, revealing a glimpse of his mouth-watering happy trail and v line in the kitchen cooking dinner for the two of you. It’s like it triggered something inside of your brain.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him on the living room couch, his snowy-white hair tickling his forehead, damped with sweat as he gazed up at you with half-lidden eyes in a mixture of exhaustion and desire. His sticky cum from the last three rounds marinating inside your cunt as you continued milking him for the forth, sure your thighs were quivering and aching but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming amount of pleasure you got from fucking your boyfriend like this. Your feet gently rested on his toned thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock, trying to cum once again and get him as stimulated as possible.

His jaw fell slack and his eyes rolled back repeatedly in sheer ecstasy at the lewd sight of you fucking down at him like this—sure Satoru loved being in control and fucking you absolutely stupid as you drooled and cried into his expensive bed sheets while he pounds your sloppy little cunt from behind but there’s just something about seeing his feisty, persistent little girlfriend being so demanding and treating him like your personal toy to fuck yourself on made him lose his mind. He loved it so so much.

He enjoys being your dildo to cream on—even if he’s on the verge of literal tears right now from the overstimulation of you bouncing your ass on his twitching, overused cock. he didn’t even had the power to try and get you off from his oversensitive dick—all he could do is lie there and take it. You won’t lie, you carried a lot of pride in having the strongest a whimpering and moaning mess alll because of you.

“Babyyy, Goddd! you’re so fucking crazy” his voice cracked as he flashed a fucked out smile at you as you ran your fingertips along the defined ridges of his abs before trailing them upwards to his chest—feeling every bit of muscle from his body that you could possibly reach. “You look so shit!- fucking beautiful”.

“Yeahhh? Oh you look so pretty like this too toruuu” you cooed, his cock was filling you up so well, just the way you wanted. You raked your hand over his chest, groping it before you accidentally did something. Which made his cock jump inside of you, throbbing and pulsating—you felt it and it made you questioned, why you never thought about it before?

“Whatthefuck—Holy shitt nghh” he groaned out, a lump forming in his throat.

You pinched both of his nipples, twisting and toying with the hardened bud before he lets out a high-pitched whine, his ragged breaths quickening as he came, spilling whatever bit of cum was left inside his balls into your already stuffed and leaking pussy, the action catching you off guard, causing your back arched slightly, the overwhelming pleasure consumed you as your rhythm got sloppy. You quickly chased your high following him—his gooey cum coating your sensitive clit and dripping down all over his balls and sheets as his balls throbbed with his release, his seed getting fucked so deep inside you as you continued bouncing on him.

His pretty pathetic whimpers and moans were like music to your ears, you were actually starting to feel bad but you were soo desperate to cum, you had to—even if you already did it about four times. It felt so fucking good and seeing Satoru like this made you even hornier.

You moved your hand down to rub your clit, feeling the intense pleasure building up as three of your fingers carefully circled the sensitive bundle of nerves as Satoru weakly looked up at you, if it wasn’t for his bright ass blue eyes peaking out faintly, you wouldn’t have even noticed. He had no power or energy to do anything, it’s like your pussy snatched his soul from his body and he’s just laying there lifeless but with his cock still throbbing with need and joy.

“Mmm fuck baby, M’ gonna cum on your cock again, gonna make a creamy little mess on you toru” you moaned out, your head falling back as you squeezed a handful of your bouncing tits, he whines eagerly at your exclamations. The pit of your stomach flutters as you came undone on your boyfriend's cock once again, your juices leaking all around his shaft as your pussy squeezes around him like a vice, at this point, Satoru’s cheeks were so flushed and feverish.

Your body collapsed onto his with his cock still nested and marinating in your warm, cum-filled pussy as you brushed the stands of stray hairs that veiled his eyes before planting a sweet, gentle kiss on his forehead. There for no doubt that Satoru wasn’t asleep right now, you could just tell from his breathing patterns and it was sooo adorable to you.

Maybe you’ll give him some time to wake up before round five orrr was it six? starts again.

[mochinomnoms]

April Fools: Telling them you're pregnant as a joke

It's April's Fools! And you want to pull a harmless little prank on your boyfriend! Hmm, there's pretending to break up...no that's mean. There's moving all of the furniture in the house 2 inches slightly to the right...but that'd be too much effort. Oh, you got it! Get a fake pregnancy test and tell him you're pregnant!

Yes, this will be extremely funny and you can think of no ways that this can go wrong! But if you did it on the first, he probably wouldn't take you seriously, so instead you opted to do it the night before as you two were getting ready for bed.

"Hey sweetheart? I have something really important to tell you..." You took a deep breath, presenting the joke pregnancy test you got from the store and said, "I'm pregnant."

multi (randomly chosen) x gn!reader

[tw/cw} - sexual humor, crack, dumbassery afoot, some softer vibes, takes place post-graduation

[note] - technically you could consider this to be implied afab reader, but it's a lot funnier if we want to imagine mpreg instead loool. I thought it would be funny to write something for April Fool's and this is kinda sorta related to what I'm currently writing in the next chapter for 2-3-6? anyways enjoy this was funny!

Also the seven guys were chosen by a wheel spinner so yaaaay

Deuce

Glass shattered against the wood floors, Deuce dropping his cup of water, making you jump. Your eyes flitted to the glass and puddle on the ground, before footsteps made you look back up and yelp in surprise.

Deuce was right up in your face, hands grasping tightly at your biceps and squeezing.

"Really?" Deuce looked like he was about to cry, a trembling smile on his lips. "We're gonna be parents? Oh...we're gonna be parents, I'm gonna be a dad!"

You immediately felt your heart clench in guilt. He looked so happy, his hands cradling your face and fluttering it with soft kisses. You didn't want to disappoint him and tell him it was a prank, but you had to as he climbed over the bed to grab his phone.

"I gotta tell Mom!"

"No wait!"

Launching yourself on top of him, you swatted his hands away from the phone, though he managed to grab it. You two then wrestled in the bed, hands pulling at the phone as Deuce looked at you in confusion.

"Why aren't you letting me call her?" Deuce managed to one up you as he finally pinned you on your back, though your hands still tightly clenched to his phone like a lifeline. "Don't you want to tell her?"

"Cause it was a prank! For April Fool's" Deuce froze, letting go of the phone and staring down at you in distraught.

"We're not having a baby then?"

"Oh baby...no Deuce I'm not pregnant, I'm sorry." You finally managed to wiggle your way up to throw your arms around him, giving him a tight hug. "I thought you might have a funny reaction, I didn't realize you'd be so happy, I wouldn't've pulled this prank if I did."

"Oh...okay." Deuce returned the hug, hiding his face into the crook of your neck as he mumbled. "So...do you want to have a baby?"

"Only if it's yours." Pressing a kiss to his temple, you tilted Deuce up by his chin and gave him a smile.

"Let's go to bed, and talk more in the morning, yeah? I love you."

"Ha, okay." Deuce gave you a tender kiss in return. "I love you too."

Ruggie

"Oh gods help me." Ruggie looked as if he wanted to both kiss you, and puke his guts out. "I don't have baby money."

You took a deep breath and bit the inside of you cheek to keep you from laughing. This was a little mean. Okay actually this was really mean, but Ruggie was giving you some very funny reactions. So you decided to keep the prank going.

"It's okay Rugs, I have a little bit saved up, we can—"

"I think I have that bracelet set from graduation that I can sell. It's from Leona so it should give us good money." Ruggie rushed pass you in your small apartment to dig under the bed and grab a lockbox.

"Oh my—Ruggie you don't need to get our emergency—"

"We should start looking at thrift shops and the nearby market for baby clothes. I can ask Nana if she has any of my old stuff, I think she might still have my crib and bassinet."

You couldn't help the snort that left your mouth as Ruggie smacked his head on the bedframe, making him turn around to glare at you.

"Hey! No laughing, this is your fault!"

"What!" You scoffed, though giggles still escaped you as he tossed the lockbox on the bed and grabbed his laptop. "It takes two to tango dumbass."

"Yeah yeah! Look we gotta get prepared, they give you free stuff at a baby shower right? We should make a registry—oooooh, make sure Kalim gets it. He'll by everything and then some."

You were now full on laughing, watching as Ruggie concentrated on some website on his laptop. Looking closure, you noticed that he already was bringing up three different websites for registries.

"Pfft! Ruggie, babe, wait—"

"You're real close with Malleus, think if we make him the godfather, he'll hook us up with a bunch of stuff from the treasury—"

"Ruggie! Stop!" Cackles were escaping your mouth as you finally managed to slam the laptop shut. Ruggie looked on in exasperation and confusion as you threw yourself on his lap.

"Ha—snrrk—It was a prank! Oooh, you should've seen the look on your face—pppft! Ahaha!"

Ruggie relaxed, collapsing backwards into the bed, and rubbed his face.

"Oh thank the heavens. I mean, I would've stepped up no matter what. But I really mean it when i say I don't got baby money."

Jade

You think you got him this time. After years of trying to pull on on him every April, you think you actually got him this time!

You thought so, until Jade had smiled and brought out a second test from under the bathroom sink. Since when did he start keeping pregnancy tests?! When he handed you the test, telling you to take another, "Just to be sure".

You were backed into a corner now, you're positive Jade knew that this was a prank. And he was going to catch you red-handed when this test came back as negative.

Which is why you were now staring down at the second test, with two red lines indicating a positive result, in utter confusion. You were positive you weren't actually pregnant, but here you were. One fake, and one real test, telling you the same thing.

And Jade? He was just hugging you from behind, you sitting in his lap on the bed, smiling into your skin as he fluttered kisses down your neck.

"How exciting, don't you think so my pearl? What a surprise, it's a good thing we double checked with two tests, yes?"

"Yeah...sure..." You mumbled, still dazed as Jade's hands wandered under your shirt and kissed up to your cheeks.

"Yes, it's unfortunate..." Jade let out a wistful sigh as he squeezed you tight against him and murmured into your ears. "That they're both fake tests, hmm?"

"Huh? Hmm...aaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHH! YOU ASS!"

Jade couldn't help but let out a laugh as you started thrashing in his hold, your arms reaching behind to grab at him.

"Oooh? I thought you'd be excited, unless you were hoping to see me disappointed? My, my, how cruel you are to me, your love!"

Letting out a sniffle, Jade looked up at you from his eyelashes with a coy, sweet look.

"Such a cruel human..."

You groaned, turning your head to kiss his cheek and murmur, "I'm sorry Jade, I'll make it up to you, okay? Whatever you want."

Honestly, you should know better than you say things like that, as Jade quickly had you pinned underneath him, a manic grin on his face.

"Whatever I want? How generous of you my pearl!" Jade brought you up to be flush against him, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, a string of saliva breaking as you separated.

"Aaah~ Sure, sure, yeah. Whatever you want..." You replied in a daze, wincing as his hands grabbed at your stomach and squeezed.

"Then let's make sure we can get a real positive and let me fill you up, yes?"

"Yeah~"

Jamil

"Uh-huh."

You stood awkwardly behind Jamil as he continued writing in his journal, as he always did for the end of the day.

"Jami...did you hear me?"

"Yep."

He put his pen down, stretching until his back gave a satisying pop, and getting up to head to the bathroom. You followed in confusion and frustration as he just reached in the drawer for a brush and started loosening his braids.

"Sooo...you heard me say I was pregnant...right?"

You crossed your arms and started tapping your foot. Is this how he's reacting to the (fake) news? You just told him you two were having a baby, and he's just...brushing his hair? Ignoring you standing there, very obviously annoyed??

"I did."

Jamil paused, looking at your through the mirror, to which you gave him an expectant look. You're pretty sure you saw him smirk as he resumed, following through on his nighttime routine, all with you glaring daggers into him.

You stood there the entire time, watching as he finally finished, rubbing lotion into his hands as he turned to you, giving you an amused smile.

"Oh, were you expecting a bigger reaction?"

Scoffing, you put your hands on your hips and hissed. "Uh, yeah? I just told you we're having a baby, and you're acting like I just told you it's gonna rain tomorrow!''

Yeah, this might be a prank, but damn it! If this is how he was going to react to such big news, maybe you two needed to have a sit down and talk about—

Jamil grabbed you by your cheeks and squeezed, making you purse your lips as he grinned down at you. He clearly found your building rage cute and amusing.

"Yeah, well, word to the wise habibi, next time you want to pull a prank on me, make sure it's not through our shared shopping accounts. I got the delivery email for your fake test yesterday."

"Oh, fuck me!"

"Oh? If you insist. Practice for when we want the real thin—ow!"

Jamil started laughing as you pinched and poked at him, face furiously warm in both embarrassment and anger.

Vil

You swallowed nervously, giving Vil a small, shy smile as he stared down at you with displeased look. He'd just finished his routine for the evening, removing his gloves after letting his creams absorb into his skin.

"Darling."

"Yes Vil?"

"If you truly wanted to pull such a tasteless prank on me," Vil reached into his vanity, where he pulled out a opened box that looked very familiar "I would expect that you'd be smarter about hiding the evidence."

"WHAT!" You flew over to Vil and reached for the pregnancy test box, which he held just out of your reach. "I threw that away! How'd you even get that?"

"The housekeeper was taking out the trash and noticed the box, though she didn't read the back which clearly states that it's perfect for pranks. Poor thing was so excited that she called both myself and my father."

Vil smacked the top of your head with the box, clicking his tongue at you as you made a sound of understanding.

"Ooooh, she told Eric?"

"Yes she did, imagine both his and my own disappointment when she called back again to tell us that it was a joke toy." Vil sighed, though he relaxed into your touch as you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.

"Sorry sweetie, I just wanted to pull an April Fool's prank on you, I guess I didn't think—"

You gasped, startling Vil as you pulled his face down close to yours, despite his protest.

"Hey! My face cream is still—"

"You were disappointed?! Awwww, Vil that's so sweet! We can make a baby right now, come on sweetie~"

"What?! Nonononono, I just finished my entire routine, I'll have to start over—ACK!"

Vil was swiftly silenced as you both fell into bed.

Idia

With the way Idia was staring at you, you weren't sure if he actually heard you. He was just boring into you with those bright yellow eyes of his, you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Ah." HIs voice was meek, squeaky, and barely audible. So he did hear you!

Idia's eyes flickered down to the test in your hands, then back to your face, then back to the test, then back to your face.

Then he fainted.

Thankfully he fainted next to your bed, so after dropping the joke test in a panic, you scrambled to drag him onto the bed, reaching for Idia's phone to text Ortho to come check on him.

Though he was in the room not even a few seconds later, his eyebrows furrowed as he spotted Idia limp in your arms.

"Idia! What happened (Name)? I noticed that his blood-pressure dropped suddenly—"

Ortho's eyes dropped to the pregnancy test on the ground, though he narrowed them and stared at you. You could make out his eyes going blank as he scanned you.

"You're not pregnant! So why do you have—oooooooh! April 1st is in an hour!" Ortho gasped in realization, as you nodded sagely.

"Yep."

"And you're trying to prank him!"

"Uh-huh."

"And then he fainted!"

"I see!" You both remind silent, eyes flickering down to Idia who'd begun shifting awake in your lap.

"...Want to keep it going?"

"Oh absolutely Ortho! Wakey-wakey Idia~"

Silver

"Oh...how'd you get one of those in Briar Valley?"

Silver looked more confused that you had a pregnancy test at all than that it was a positive one. You faltered, popping you lips as you eyed him for a hint that he knew what was actually going on.

"These...aren't common here?"

"No, though perhaps that makes sense." Silver had a gentle smile as he took you into his arms and pressed your foreheads together. "Fae are able to sense these things rather quickly, Lilia told me that it's due to their scents changing."

"Oh! I forget that fae have more sensitive senses, I guess it makes sense."

You almost forgot the original question asked, as you brought back up and showed it to Silver.

"So what do you think?"

"Hmm? Oh about the baby." Silver's smile grew as he wrapped his arms around you, eyes closed in bliss. "It's wonderful, Father will be very happy, though I'm surprised that he didn't mention anything earlier at dinner."

You cursed in your head. Of course fae can sense these things, and it was starting to click for Silver.

"Love, what's tomorrow again?"

"...April 1st."

"As in April Fool's."

"Mmmmmaaaaaybe?"

A sigh escaped his lips as he looked at you in disappointment, though you also make out small laugh under his breath.

"Did Father put you up to this?"

"Surprisingly, no. Though I'm sure he'd be pleased that I'm putting thoughts of kids into your brain."

You laughed nervously, though relaxed as Silver pressed a kiss to your forehead and guided you to bed. You both slipped under the sheets facing each other to wrap your arms and legs together in an embrace.

"Hmm...I wouldn't be opposed." He murmured, your breaths mingling as he was quickly falling asleep. "I think it would be...nice...if it's with you."

You hummed in content, letting Silver tuck his head under your chin and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"I think it would be nice with you too."

[jiwuu]

𓈒 ㅤ⭐️୨୧ ㅤ𓈒 sunghoon when your on your period

0.7k ── fmr x prk sunghoon, est. relationship, fluff

Sunghoon’s voice filters through his headset, low and focused as he clicks away at his keyboard. “Jake, left—no, your other left—”

You don’t care about his game. You don’t care about Heeseung and Jake yelling through his speakers. Right now, all you care about is the way your stomach is twisting painfully, the dull ache spreading through your lower back, the exhaustion settling deep in your bones.

So you do the only thing that makes sense—you climb into his lap.

Sunghoon stiffens immediately, his fingers pausing over his keyboard as he glances down at you, eyes wide. “Whoa, baby—”

“Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?” Heeseung’s voice crackles through the headset.

Sunghoon exhales, wrapping an arm around your waist as you nuzzle into his neck. “Uh—”

Jake snickers. “Dude, are you getting cuddled mid-game?”

Sunghoon groans, already reaching for the keyboard with one hand, but you shift slightly in his lap, and he falters. Your warmth, the way your arms curl around him, the way you press a soft, barely-there kiss against his skin, it all makes him forget about his stupid game in an instant.

“Guys, I gotta go,” he mutters, ripping his headset off before they can protest.

He tilts his head down, nudging your cheek with his nose. “What’s up, princess?”

You don’t answer, your face buried against his throat. His fingers tighten around your waist, thumb stroking circles against the fabric of his hoodie. He lets you stay like that, soaking in the way you sigh against his skin, pressing another featherlight kiss to the base of his jaw.

His chest tightens. “Baby,” he murmurs, petting your hair now. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

When you finally look up at him, he swears his heart cracks right down the middle. Your eyes are glossy, your lips slightly parted, your entire expression one of pure vulnerability.

“Do you love me?” you whisper.

For a second, he just stares. He doesn’t answer, not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he hates that you even have to ask.

Instead of responding, he stands, lifting you into his arms and carrying you across the room. You make a small noise of protest, but he hushes you, setting you down gently on his bed before disappearing out the door.

When he returns, he’s holding a heating pack, a bottle of water, and your favorite snacks.

He kneels beside the bed, placing the heating pack on your stomach before brushing his fingers through your hair.

You blink up at him, “How did you know?”

“Because you asked me that dumb question.”

Your breath catches.

He cups your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t ever ask me that again, okay?” he murmurs against your skin. “You already know the answer.”

© jiwuu, all rights reserved.

letters from author ୨୧ sry this is rushed i hope the storyline isnt too random

[illbegottenfaith]

stutter (a puzzle pieces by saint motel inspired fic)

something about you and your features reawakens theo's stutter (theo nott x reader)

a/n - LOVE how I usually naturally write in British English (for the most part) but the title of this fic is apparently the American English variant?? sorry but stammar just doesn't have the same sound as stutter and it rlly messes with the flow of my sentences lmao

tropes/warnings - fluff, theo has a stutter, tw alcohol, slightlyy mean reader? very mild tho lmao

word count - 3.2k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

Theo’s stutter had never been bad exactly - just bad enough to be noticed. Bad enough to make him hesitate before speaking, bad enough to make his father sigh whenever he tripped over a word at the dinner table.

"Think before you speak," his father would say, voice clipped, disapproving. "There's no point in opening your mouth if you don't know what you're going to say."

As if Theo didn’t already try.

So he adapted. He learned to pick his words carefully, to stay quiet unless absolutely necessary, to keep his voice even and deliberate. The less he spoke, the less he had to risk tripping over his own tongue. He stopped rushing and started living his life at a careful, highly controlled pace.

Over time, with extensive help from the best speech therapists his father could find, he grew out of his stutter. By the time he was old enough to be surrounded by classmates who would’ve torn him apart for it, it was already buried beneath layers of indifference. He built himself a reputation on cool control - on quiet, dry wit and the ability to cut someone down with a single unimpressed look. He spoke when he wanted to, not when people expected him to, and that was enough to keep it from ever being a problem.

Until you.

Because for some infuriating reason, with you, it found a way to slip through the cracks.

You and Theo were like two puzzle pieces that never quite fit right.

You didn’t hate each other - not really - but it seemed like a stretch to call yourselves friends. Try as you might, your personalities seemed fundamentally disconnected. He had little patience for your sense of humour, or lack thereof in his opinion. On the bad days, you had a snarky quip ready for even his most innocent comments. It was the most maddening thing for your friends - just as seemed that the two of you had finally learned to get along, Theo would take the mickey out of you, or you would turn your nose up at his boorish antics, and the cycle would repeat.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), all of that changed two weeks ago. It had happened on a brisk Wednesday night. His dorm was fresh out of bottled water and it was too late and too cold to sneak down to the Kitchens to get some. Mattheo was keeping everyone up fretting about what-if-someone-gets-extra-thirsty-in-the-middle-of-the-night-then-what and no one could get him to shut up. Naturally, Theo had been rather unceremoniously evicted from his cosy, dry bed to fetch water from the girls’ dormitory, after a unanimous (and unfair) vote.

So there he had stood outside the girls’ dormitory, shivering, waiting for one of your friends to bring out some water. He had glared at the distorted view of the moon through the common room walls, fuming about how it already was the middle of the night and none of his roommates seemed the least bit thirsty, not that Mattheo would listen to reason.

Finally, the door had swung open, and out of the shadows peered your wan, tired face.

Maybe it was something in the way your lips twisted in displeasure as your droopy eyes struggled to stay open. For some odd, inexplicable reason, he felt a pang of regret over having woken you.

If you were slightly more awake, you might have noticed the glazed look in his eyes. But as it were, all you had done was shove a small jug into his lax hands, manually curling his fingers around the handle when his grip refused to tighten. Of course, you and your roommates were too environmentally conscious to be entertaining single-use plastic.

“Hold still,” you had muttered as you tipped your room’s jug into the smaller one, filling it up. In the pale moonlight, it had been as though he was seeing you in a completely different light for the first time, both figuratively and otherwise. You hair looked unbearably soft from the way it cascaded down your shoulders. Almost as soft as your pillowy lips, which were now parting to release a sigh. And did your skin always smell this sweet, he wondered, as you stepped closer?

“You want a cookie?” you had asked waspishly when he had kept staring at you once his jug was full. That had snapped him out of his trance. After bidding you a hasty, clipped goodnight, he had crept back down to the boy’s dormitories, head reeling, heart thudding. Before finally nodding off in the wee hours of the morning, he had put the whole thing down to sleep deprivation.

But when you looked just as adorable in your 9 am Charms lesson the next day, bags under your eyes as you poorly stifled your yawns, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, he’d be hard pressed to muster up any real sort of annoyance over the reactions you elicited from him, knowingly or otherwise.

You were all in the Great Hall, having breakfast. Your friends were talking about some book they had read recently. Mattheo and Draco were having an arm wrestling match right over their eggs. Enzo was yammering in Theo’s ear, not that he was listening. Theo had long since learned to tune out Enzo’s chatter until lunch, when he was sufficiently awake to actually process it.

No, what he was doing was watching you - watching the way you chewed on your bottom lip instead of your breakfast, a faint crease between your eyebrows as your eyes flitted across the parchment. He cast his eyes around the table listlessly, desperately wishing for a change in topic, preferably one that had to do with you.

His prayers were soon answered. Ivy turned away from her conversation to look at you.

“How’s the essay coming along, Y/N?”

You finally peeled your eyes away from the essay you were proofreading, sliding your gaze disinterestedly to Theo and the rest of your friends. He watched your sleepy, downturned eyes momentarily rest on his, a familiar electric jolt twinging in his chest. There was no denying it - what had previously seemed uninteresting or unimaginative was now hopelessly irresistible to him.

You scowled, flipping back to the first page. “Terrible. Awful. I don’t know what possessed McGonagall to let me take N.E.W.T level Transfiguration.”

Because you’re brilliant at it, Theo wanted to say, just like how you’re brilliant at everything else.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Ivy said reasonably as you haphazardly started gathering your things.

“It is, it really is. Even worse, my guinea pig escaped so now everyone has something to practice on except me.”

“I can be your Guinea pig,” Theo murmured. Mattheo gave him a hard shove in the shoulder blade.

“What?” You distractedly pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

He grimaced, a throbbing pain now settling in his upper back. “I said,” he forced out, “serves you right. Losing your guinea pig.”

You rolled your eyes. “Charming as ever, Nott.”

You hurriedly placed a kiss on Ivy’s cheek, glowering at Theo as you walked off. Just as he opened his mouth to ask (yell) where his kiss was, Mattheo shoved a bun into his mouth.

"Real subtle, mate," he said sarcastically.

Theo shot him a glare, but the delicate flush dusting his face betrayed him. "Shut up."

Mattheo only smirked, taking a bite of his own toast. "Whatever you say."

Some nights, trouble had a face. Tonight, it was yours.

He saw you before you saw him - tucked inside an alcove at the far end of the corridor, bathed in the flickering glow of a lone torch. It was the late kind of hour when nothing good was bound to happen. A half-empty bottle of firewhiskey dangled loosely from your fingers, the deep amber liquid catching the dim light as you swirled it absentmindedly.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this - pushing limits just for the sake of it. It wasn't immediately apparent, but anyone who paid close enough attention would see you had a habit of toeing the line between reckless and untouchable.

He should have walked away. Should’ve let you self-destruct in peace.

But Theo was never that smart when it came to you.

"You’re not exactly being subtle," he said, stepping out of the shadows.

You didn’t jump, didn’t startle. Instead, you turned to face him with a slow, deliberate ease, like you’d been expecting him all along.

"Wasn’t trying to be."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Could’ve fooled me."

You smirked, raising the bottle in a lazy toast before taking another sip.

"What, you gonna tell on me?"

Theo scoffed. "If I wanted to get you in trouble, you'd know."

"Mm. So you’re just here to nag, then?"

"Not nagging," Theo said. "Just pointing out that if you’re going to break the rules, you should at least be smart about it."

You hummed, swaying the bottle between your fingers, humming poorly. You were definitely well past tipsy. "Smart’s overrated."

"Yeah? So’s liver failure."

That made you laugh, short and sharp, like you hadn’t expected him to be funny.

He shouldn’t have cared about that. Shouldn’t have cared that his words - his stupid, judgemental, throwaway words - had gotten a laugh out of you.

But he did. And that was the problem.

You studied him for a moment before holding out the bottle. "Want some?"

He looked at it disdainfully. "Generous."

"Hardly," you said. "Figured it might loosen you up a bit. You’re wound tight, Nott."

Theo exhaled, crossing his arms. He knew all about being tightly wound when it came to you. "Right. Because getting pissed in a dark corridor is the key to inner peace."

"You should try it sometime."

"Hard pass."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Then, just to be a menace, you took another slow swill, letting your lips linger at the rim of the bottle before licking a stray drop off the corner of your mouth.

Theo didn’t react. Wouldn’t react. You weren’t doing anything special. Just drinking. Just looking at him with that same lazy amusement, like you had him all figured out.

And maybe you did. Maybe that was what rattled him.

"You’re - " He started, but his tongue tripped over the word, catching slightly before he forced it out. "You’re d-drunk."

Your drooping eyes widened fractionally. Your lips parted in your efforts to concentrate as a slight frown creased your forehead, not all that different from the one at breakfast a few days ago,

Theo felt the heat crawl up his neck before he could stop it. His mind scrambled for damage control, but the way you were watching him - head tilted, intrigued, like you were piecing something together - made it worse.

"You good?" you asked, something teasing yet concerned in your tone.

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain control of his rogue tongue. "Obviously," he muttered, shifting his weight.

You let the silence stretch a beat too long before raising an eyebrow.

"You sure? ‘Cause for a second there, you almost sounded - "

"Drop it," he cut in, swiping the bottle from your hands before you could protest. He took a slow sip, letting the firewhiskey burn its way down, using it as an excuse to steady himself.

You watched him succumb to the buzz of the drink. "You’re changing the subject," you noted, smirking.

"Yeah?" He felt less wired, less sober. "You’re still an idiot for doing this in the open."

You watched him lean against the wall opposite yours, eyes gleaming in the dim alcove. You let him have that one. But just as he thought you were letting it go, your gaze flicked up, sharp and knowing.

"Don’t act like you’re any better," you mused.

Theo frowned. "What?"

You nodded toward his pocket, where a cigarette pack was sticking out slightly. "Don’t you go through, like, three packs a day?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. You had him there. "That’s not the same."

You widened your eyes mockingly. "No, you’re right. I might get liver failure in thirty years. You’re aiming for lung failure by, what - next week?"

Theo clicked his tongue, tucking the pack deeper into his pocket. "Cute."

"Not as cute as you stuttering over your words a minute ago."

Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," you murmured, grinning as you took back the firewhiskey.

The Slytherin common room was empty when you both stepped inside, drenched from head to toe. The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth did nothing to dry the water you trailed in as you stalked toward it.

Theo watched you try to wring out your sleeves with an air of great suffering, muttering something about "bloody weather conspiracies" under your breath as you peeled off some of your outer layers.

"This is all your fault," you grumbled.

Theo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his wet hair. "Yeah? How’s that?"

"You control everything else," you shot back, flicking a few stray drops of water at him. "Figured you had a deal with the bloody sky, too."

He smirked. "Don't give me ideas."

You rolled your eyes, crouching slightly to warm your frozen hands by the fire. Your clothes clung to your frame, and Theo forced himself to look away before his thoughts could wander into dangerous territory. Instead, he shrugged off his soaked sweater and tossed it over the back of the nearest couch.

"Relax. You’ll live," he said idly.

"You better hope so," you threatened. "If I don’t, I’m haunting you forever."

Theo snorted, undoing the cuffs of his shirt.

"I don't think you have the attention span for that."

You shot him a look. "I'd find a way," you said darkly.

"Sure," he agreed sarcastically.

You huffed, standing up straight again.

"And here I was, thinking you actually liked me."

The words were meant to be teasing, flippant, meaningless. But something about them made his pulse stutter.

Maybe it was the way you said it, light and careless, like the idea was so ridiculous it wasn’t even worth entertaining. Maybe it was the way the firelight flickered against your golden skin. Maybe it was the way a stray droplet trickled down your throat, inch by agonising inch, before disappearing beneath the collar of your shirt.

Maybe it was the fact that he did actually like you.

Theo didn’t know what made him say it - either the warmth from the fire or the cold still clinging to his skin or the fact that he could feel the exhaustion of restraint pressing against his ribs. But before he could stop himself, he was opening his mouth, lips forming words he had barely formulated.

"You look - " he started, then faltered.

Shit.

His tongue tripped, his brain suddenly too slow to catch up. He could feel the syllable stuck in his throat, unable to escape, the word stuttering into nothing.

"Y-you l - l -"

Silence.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, slow and smug, realisation dawning on your face.

Theo exhaled sharply, his stomach twisting as he tried to force his expression into something impassive, something cool, something...unaffected. In short, he tried attempting what was an impossible feat when your very features were enough to leave him dizzy.

A wicked smile unfurled across your face. He wasn’t getting out of this alive, was he?

"Do you not know how to talk?" you demanded, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth. "Is this your first day on planet Earth?"

Theo clenched his jaw, crossing his arms in a futile attempt to feign indifference. "Shut up."

You refused to let up. "No, really. What was that? You looked - what? What do I look like, Theo? Enlighten me."

He forced himself to roll his eyes as his fingers curled into his sleeves. "You’re insufferable."

"J-j-j-j - " You stuttered mockingly, eyes alight with mischief. "What are you, an idiot? Does your tongue need rewiring?"

Theo should’ve turned away, should’ve thrown himself onto the couch and forced himself to think about literally anything else. But he couldn’t help it.

He watched you - watched the way you grinned to yourself, watched the way your fingers twisted in the fabric of your damp clothes, watched the way you were so completely and utterly oblivious to the way you made his mind unravel.

It wasn’t just attraction. It wasn’t just the heat in his chest or the feeling in his bones or the fact that his name sounded so damn good dripping off your honeyed lips while you teased him.

It was everything.

It was the way you filled every empty space like you belonged there, like you’d always belonged there. It was the way your laughter lived in his head rent-free, the way you made even the most infuriating drivel you spouted feel like something he couldn't bear to go without. It was the fact that no matter how much you poked and prodded, no matter how ruthlessly or relentlessly you mocked him - he still wanted you. Desperately.

He should be embarrassed. The Theo of a few years ago would have been - would’ve burned with the humiliation, would’ve clenched his fists at the reminder of all the times he’d stood in front of his father, struggling to string together a coherent sentence under the weight of that unimpressed gaze.

But you were different. He could hear it in your voice, buried beneath the teasing - the unmistakable warmth, the absolute delight you took in making fun of him. Not because you wanted to humiliate him, but because it amused you. It endeared him to you. Because you liked getting under his skin.

And, Merlin help him, he liked that you liked it.

"Go on," you continued mockingly, roughly drying your hair with a towel, still oblivious to Theo watching you like you hung the stars and moon. "Careful with the big words, now."

Theo just stood there, staring at you, utterly gone. He wasn’t even trying to school his expression anymore.

When you finally looked up from drying yourself, your teasing faltered ever so slightly at the look in his eyes.

You blinked. “What?”

Theo shook his head, leaning against the wall thoughtfully.

“Nothing.”

You stilled. Because for the first time, you actually noticed. Theo wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t enduring your teasing with quiet exasperation.

He was watching you with something softer - something warmer, something dangerously close to adoration. It lingered in the lines of his face, in the almost-smile playing at his lips, in the flicker of fondness he couldn’t quite suppress fast enough before your eyes met his.

You stared back, speechless. Theo swallowed, tearing his gaze away, turning sharply as if shaking himself out of it.

"You should dry off before you actually get sick," he muttered, forcing his voice into something steady.

You stared at him for half a second longer, something unreadable in your expression.

"Right," you finally said, clearing your throat.

Neither of you acknowledged the moment for what it was. But the resurgence of Theo's stutter remained a secret kept only between the two of you.

[ohgodthevoices]

going crazy over how husband material osamu is, hear me ouuutttt

tags : fluff, time-skip, f!reader, tattoo , he listens to, he cares , and he cook , i’m thirsting m sorry

osamu would be the type of bestfriend that knows damn well you want him bad but keeps on teasing you and acting clueless just to see how far you can go before you crack

as childhood friends, it was normal for you to be touchy and generally comfortable with each other but it raised his suspicions when you now looked away when he was topless around you. it’s not like you were uncomfortable with it ?

you’ve basically lived your whole life with the miyas, you’ve seen osamu wet the bed as a kid, get rejected by his middle school crush you’ve even witnessed him putting his hand in his pants and scratch his butt, seeing him topless in the comfort of his apartment was a casual thing so why the hell would you look away , did he lose his shape ? no, he still worked out frequently even if he’s not an athlete anymore…

either way osamu always took care for you, he was always so careful when it comes to you , sure he’d playfully hit you here and there but it was nothing you couldn’t handle

just imagine him cooking you a nice heart-warming meal, glancing at you every now and then while you’re sitting on the counter looking like a mess after a long exhausting day , wine glass in hand and rambling your worries away. it really became a ritual for you to swing by his place unannounced after a bad day.

he’d open the door with his signature lazy smile “ya had a bad day?” you finally let you shoulders relax “long story..” he steps back, inviting you in “i got time”.

sometimes osamu gets this weird feeling he can’t explain when he realizes he’s seen you grow into a real woman, it really freaked him tf out when you told him you had your first time with some boy he never heard the name of.

he scolds you after a bad decision for sure , but he’s always there to comfort you right after. SO imagine his surprise when during a drunken confession after you finally listened to him and dumped your toxic bf, you admit to him between sobs that broke his heart into pieces

“why can’t i find a guy that actually likes me—?” your face was buried in his now wet tshirt , his strong arms holding you tight as if they were gonna protect you from feeling hurt, your words were muffled, melting together “why can’t i find someone like you samu…im so jealous of the girl that’s gonna be yours” holy fucking shit how was he so blind to never realize this…

thank god that night was complete blurry in your mind , so when you woke up the day completely hung over and found your beloved best friend making you breakfast with a bed hair and his sleeves rolled up showing off his forearms that you find really hot for some reason , your slight blush was explained.

omfg the day he showed up to your workplace during his break with a well crafted lunch box he made full of delicious onigiris because he listens and he remembers that your annoying coworker kept flaunting her relationship to you and it pissed you off and you wanted to show her that you can pull too

ever since he realized the power he had over you, he wouldn’t stop just picking at you and seeing how far he can go, he was basically testing the waters by stretching until his shirt lifts up, hold eye contact for a lil longer than what he should, and how he praises you don’t get me startedddd

“yer actually pretty decent at this” when you cook dinner with him, “look at ya bein all confident and independent !” when you actually tell the waiter they got your order wrong, “yer pretty distractin’ yk that? that’s kinda dangerous.”

osamu was a pretty touchy guy, not overly cuddly or anything but he did enjoy proximity, he’d usually hold your wrist when passing crowds but for some reason he now held your waist, his touch gentle yet firm on you. istg his hand placement is impeccable

there’s just something about him keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you that’s so endearing, so caring and attentive to your lil daily struggles.

it all happened when you got your first tattoo, he had sent you to his friend whom he deemed good enough to ink your body. he was nervous and excited as if he was the one getting tattooed but that’s mostly because you wanted to keep it a mystery, he knew that when he came home after closing the shop he’d find you there already.

there was just something so intimate about him coming back from work and finding you already at his place , he liked it, he could get use to it.

“ ‘m here !” he yelled out closing the door behind him , analyzing you from head to toe as you pop infront of him with his tshirt and shorts on displaying an almost mischievous smile, his eyebrows creasing as he doesn’t see any trace of a tattoo on your arms or legs, maybe it was on your shoulders?

he plopped down on his couch , man spreading “soo… are ya gonna show me or ?” you happily turn to the side, his eyes widen as you lift up the shirt enough to reveal a sideboob tattoo. he sits up the shock visible on his face “holy shit cmere” you obey him , getting closer for him to get a better look. with a swift motion his arm was now around your hip , pushing you to sit on one of his legs

he clearly recognized his friend’s intricate style, the design cupping the side of your boob, he wanted to admire his work but damn he felt a lil jealous that he worked so close to you. he finally looked at you only now noticing your reddish face

his face was just inches from yours, his previously shocked expression fading as he met your eyes. he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your jaw, and for a split second, everything around you felt quiet, just the two of you in that small space. he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though, breaking the tension as he nudged you lightly

“didn’t know you had it in ya to do somethin’ like that” he whispered.

before you could answer, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. his lips brushed yours, just a soft, teasing touch, before pulling back slightly with that same smirk. “couldn’t resist,” he muttered under his breath, and this time, when he kissed you again, it was longer, deeper—no more teasing, just the feeling of the moment taking over.

i’m currently such a sucker for time skip osamu he’s all i’m thinking about

[hvnlygrl]

rafe Cameron has started blowing off gf!reader to hangout with his friends like cancelling plans last minute, leaving in the middle of a date, and just ignoring/neglecting her when all she wants is to just spend time with him. And it makes her so sad and insecure and she finally confronts him when he tries to leave their plans and she says "if you don't want me anymore please just say it and stop stringing me along" and just breaks down and he feels terrible, she's the love of his life and he didn't realize what he had been doing and makes it up to her with cuddles gifts breakfast in bed and maybeee some smut

⌞ STRUNG ALONG THE LINE ⌝

જ⁀➴ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

જ⁀➴ word count | 1.2k

જ⁀➴ warnings | lotta hurt lotta comfort, near-break up, make-up, fluff

જ⁀➴ synopsis | after rafe stops putting in enough effort into your relationship, you confront him about stringing you along.

જ⁀➴ notes | ugh my heart. why are boys so stupid sometimes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the first time it happened, it stung a little, but you were sure it wasn’t on purpose. rafe didn’t show up to the date, leaving you to sit in the parking lot of the restaurant, tears streaming down your cheeks. it was more disappointment than anything else, but rafe chalked it up to getting caught up with topper and kelce at the paintball place, the date completely slipping his mind. 

you left it at that, opting to give him another chance. he missed that one too, his excuse being something to do with ward and some kook bullshit you didn’t understand. the last time, however, was different. 

the two of you were in the middle of dinner at your apartment. you’d made a home-cooked meal you found a recipe for online, and the two of you sat at the couch, about an hour into a movie you’d been begging him to watch for weeks. he was there, but mentally he was somewhere else. 

it felt like every minute on the minute he was checking his phone or texting someone. as the movie progressed, you became more and more fed up. then you watched him send a text and then look at you, face screaming i hate to do this, but. 

“you’re leaving, aren’t you?” the words only amplify your anger. 

“yeah, the boys wanna go try out topper’s new wave-runners, can we take a raincheck?” it’s almost as if he has no idea how much this hurts. or maybe he just doesn’t care. 

you scoff, shaking your head as you stand from the couch. you pick the plates up from the table and walk into the kitchen without saying a word. you rinse the dishes and place them into the dishwasher, dropping a pod into it and hitting the start button. 

“babe? is it cool if i dip? they’re blowing up my phone right now,” he reiterates from the couch, brows raised expectantly. 

“whatever, rafe,” you shrug emotionlessly as you make your way back to the living room. you curl into yourself on the opposite side of the couch, wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets as you back out of the movie and put on the show you’d been binging recently. 

“you mad at me?” he asks, confused. 

you let out a wry laugh at that, cutting a glare at him. “what do you think, rafe?” 

“i don’t get why you’re mad, though?” 

“i’m not mad, rafe,” you look at him, eyes watering, “if you don’t wanna be here anymore i’m not gonna hold you hostage.” 

“what?” he cocks his head back at that, “what are you talking about?” 

“dude,” you scoff, “it just feels like you want nothing to do with me anymore. like every time we have a date or try to hang out you either leave early or just don’t show up and i just-” you can't help the way your voice cracks, “i just can’t keep waiting around for you all the time, rafe. this is killing me, so if you don’t wanna do this anymore just tell me now, okay? stop stringing me along, please.” 

rafe’s face falls with realization, his heart clenching at the look on your face alone. “oh shit, babe,” he starts, expression riddled with regret and agony. “fuck, i’m so sorry, i-i’ve been such a terrible boyfriend lately. it’s not you, i promise you that, i don’t know why i haven’t been putting in enough effort, i just have been so carried away with kelce and topper that i haven’t even noticed what i’ve been doing to you. i’m so sorry, baby. i do wanna be here, more than anything, i want to be with you more than anything.” 

his words send you spiralling a bit, tears flowing more freely now. you sob softly, hands flying up to cover your face. “i just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“i know, baby,” he can't help the way his own voice cracks this time, “i never meant for it to be this way, please, please just give me one more chance. let me make it up to you, okay? i promise i’ll be a better boyfriend.”

“i wanna believe you, rafe, i really do,” you sniffle, shoulders falling in exhaustion, “but i just don’t think I can anymore.” 

rafe drags his hands over his head anxiously, “c’mon, baby, please. i swear to god, if i fuck up again you never have to see or talk to me again, okay? just let me prove it to you?”

you gnaw at the inside of your cheek for a bit, eyes locked on his bright blue irises. “fine. but don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“i swear i won’t,” he holds his pinky out to yours, waiting for you to link your own pinky with his. once you do, he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your soft skin. 

he texts topper and kelce, telling them to fuck off since he’s at dinner with his girl, and puts his phone on do not disturb. he cuddles into you on the couch, pulling your head onto his chest while his ringed hand rubs soft shapes onto your back. “i love you,” he hums into your scalp before pressing a kiss onto the hair.

“i love you, rafe,” you mutter back, heart panging at his words but aching to believe that it’s true. “more than anything.” 

“more than everything,” rafe retorts before pulling you tighter into his chest, nearly suffocating you in a hug. “i really am sorry.” 

you nod against his chest, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. you desperately blink them away, hand gripping his t-shirt tightly as you control your breathing.

 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you aren’t entirely sure when you fell asleep, or when rafe moved you to your bed. you woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and maple syrup. you pulled the charger from your phone and checked the time, a glaring 7:45 shining back at you. 

you scrolled on your phone for a few minutes before rafe made his way to the room with a tray of fruit, tiny pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs, just like you liked them. he even went to the store to get you more of your favorite breakfast drink; cranberry juice. 

“bon appetit,” he grinned at you as he placed the tray in your lap. 

“oh my god, rafe, when did you have time to do all this?” you look at him tenderly, heart fluttering at the time and energy he put into your meal. 

“i couldn’t sleep so I went to the store and got some stuff for breakfast,” he shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “it’s no biggie, plus I know you don’t eat unless someone feeds you most of the time.” 

“that’s an exaggeration,” you huff, “i'm just not hungry most of the time.” 

“yea, well, you still gotta eat, babe,” he shrugs again as he scooches in next to you. “how is it?”

“it looks amazing,” you can practically hear your stomach growling at you just from the smell of the food, much less the sight. after taking a bite of everything on your plate, you look at him, nodding in approval, “it’s delicious.” 

“good,” rafe smiles at you, “i’m glad.” 

once you finish the meal, rafe takes your dishes from you and spends a few minutes in the kitchen as he cleans his mess. once he comes back, he gets comfortable next to you, this time letting you lay your head on his lap as he turns your favorite show on. 

“thank you, rafey,” you hum happily. 

“of course, baby,” he gives your bicep a tender squeeze, “anything for my girl.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hvnlygrl 2025 ©️

rafe cameron taglist -> @lanasb0ngwater @wintersoldierenthusiastt

[cathnospam]

Adding onto this drabble of how Bakugo likes to stare at you, but with a bit a smutty..

CW: Bakugo is a pervert trynna fight it, Some fluff, Smut implied at end, Reader IS a pervert, Black Reader slightly Implied???

Bakugo has a bad staring problem.

He had a feeling you knew he knew that he would do more than just glance at you which is why you decided to sit next to him up until you all graduated high school and attended college.

Since UA made a new section of the school that is for the college students only the classrooms are different, no more desk but rows of seats, and means sitting even closer. Bakugo didn’t know if he should be pissed off or more excited.

Yes he sits closer, but now his staring would be evident. Turning almost a whole 180 just to get a good look of your side profile. And the thought of you catching him or anything saying about it makes him want to smack the shit out of Deku or Kami.

“Wanna study?”

Your voice was something else. So feminine and soft he practically tries to savor each sweet vowel ….as corny as it sounds….though he has overheard you speak negatively about it a few times. If he had a right mind he’d let you know how much serotonin your voice carries.

“Your grades that bad?”

“No, I aced the last exam with a 98%.”

Bakugo only got 95.

He tsks adjusting himself uncomfortably to get a better look at you. Of course you’re also smart to pair.

The study dates turned into a common practice, but instead of studying it’s be a movie marathon or going to eat some food together at a nearby restaurant.

And his eyes never cracked away from you.

Bakugo would watch you as you spoke, laughed, ate, even stared when you were just doing absolutely nothing, but tapping away on your phone.

He just does not know why he can’t stop, but he doesn’t care and you seem to not care much either.

By the third year before graduation you began to take note of him always looking at you. At some point you wanted to confirm your suspicions so you’d angle yourself a little more his direction to see him from your peripheral vision, and alas you were right. He always looks at you.

He starts from your legs, stops and admires your thighs, to your chest and lands his gaze on your face. You’ve became accustomed to it so much whenever you wear your braids, or locs, or whichever new hairstyle that week parted it’s be on the opposite side so he can still see your face.

It wasn’t weird though, his eyebrows were furrowed, but he looked so cute and relaxed. Plus, it didn’t hurt since..he was your little crush.

It has been 4 months now and Bakugo practically lives in your dorm. His spare clothes are in your drawers, his winter hero costume is beside yours in your closet, he even has some of his hygiene products in your bathroom when he spends the night.

It’s been a routine now; class together, after school lunch together, spar separately or hang out with friends separately but Bakugo comes to your room to take a shower and bring you both dinner.

This time though Bakugo came back from his work study a little later, which you didn’t mind, but you decided to order some dinner, your favorite and his and head to take a quick shower.

Bakugo actually had to catch himself from grinning at your text. He felt more motivated to finish his job quicker today and head back to you.

He missed you without realizing it.

After eating, you finally got up from mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and grabbing the takeout from the front , to take your shower. The hot water feels so nice on your body you forgot all your worries of today and Bakugo was just coming back to the dorms.

He unlocks your door with the spare key you gave him and hears the water running, he sees your phone unlocked in your bed with some video replaying on tiktok and he scoffs. Of course you’re just NOW getting in the shower. He wanted to take one.

Bakugo places his gauntlet and strips his uniform down to just his tank top and boxers on your semi filled hamper and wait. He did not feel like heading to the other side of the building to take a shower and head back. Too tired.

While eating the food you got him he finds the receipt you tossed and crumbled in the trash, and scoffs, “why does she do this..” he mumbled as he pulls out his phone to Apple Pay you back the difference, he doesn’t usually let your pay for anything when you’re with him even if you offer so it was practically second nature to him.

Laying back on your bed with a towel he starts up a show as he waits for you, and while looking at the TV he notices your bathroom door beside it opened.

Without thought he tilts his head almost like a confused dog to get a better view of the noises you’re making inside. Mindless humming, singing, and soft moans whenever you let the hot water touch the sensitive areas of your skin.

You sounded…so attractive.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he was back yet, he made enough noises and comments to himself loud enough, but you didn’t respond back. You didn’t even hear the TV playing. Were you really that careless?

Thank God your door was locked.

He kept quiet for a moment, muting the TV and ate in silence to hear the ambiance of your shower. Bakugo wasn’t really thinking at this point.

“K-Kats ~”

If Bakugo had dog ears one would be up right about now, he gets up and walks over to the doors. No way he heard you moan—-

“Katsuki~”

His name.

He had heard HIS name moan out of YOUR mouth.

It spilled out of your lips like honey, the soft heavy breaths, if he focused his hearing he could have heard your squelches your sex was spewing out from you little fingers.

Bakugo knew. He knew better. He always had pride he wasn’t a pervert like his friends.

Kaminari admitting he steals Jirou’s panties

Kiri sometimes watches Mina get dressed when he’s in her room

Even Sero sending pervy pictures to his long distance girlfriend at random hours of the day

Bakugo was BETTER than them, because he never did anything perverted with you.

But

He’s still a man at the end of the day.

“Katsuki…ah…”He slowly rises from the bed.

And he still has needs.

“Kats….”He peaks his head at the creaked bathroom door.

And he still had a staring problem.

[tedmustache]

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Michael "Robbie" Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: Between long shifts, late-night triage, and the chaos of The Pitt, something quiet has been building between Dr. Robbie and Y/N. When one rough day pushes things to a breaking point, unspoken feelings come dangerously close to the surface and maybe neither of them is ready to pretend anymore.

Warnings: Mild medical content (ER setting, mentions of injuries, fever, collapse), Brief strong language

a/n: pure fluff with mutual pining, hope you like it

Requests are open | AO3 Link | Main Masterlist

[...]

The first time he hears you cough, he brushes it off.

The second time, during triage, while you’re elbow-deep in a gunshot wound and still somehow calm, he notices the hitch in your breath, the slight sheen on your forehead, and the way your voice cracks when you call for more gauze.

By the third time, he’s watching you too closely, and Collins catches him.

“You’re staring,” she mutters, handing him a chart. “Again.”

“I’m observing the technic” he replies, too quickly.

She smirks. “Uh-huh. Observing her technic of trying to sounds good even when she looks like she’s about to pass out?”

He tries not to react, but he’s already scanning the ER. You’re at the meds cabinet, hand braced against the wall like the world’s tilting.

Shit.

He crosses the floor before he realizes he’s moving, brushing past two residents and nearly knocking over a med student.

He reaches you just as your knees buckle slightly, nothing dramatic, just enough for concern and his hand catches your elbow.

“Whoa,” he says, a little breathless.

You blink up at him, eyes glassy.

“I’m fine,” you say, clearly lying.

He ignores that. “You’re flushed. And swaying.”

“I’m tired. Rough shift today”

“You’re burning up.”

Your mouth curls into a crooked smile. “Maybe it’s because you’re holding my arm.”

He really shouldn’t smile back.

But you’re you, and you say shit like that without realizing it drives him up the wall.

“Sit,” he says.

“Robbie—”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

He hears snickering behind him — Collins, probably — but he’s too focused on getting you to the empty gurney in the corner of the ER. He pulls the curtain shut. If anyone has something to say, they can say it later.

“You’re running a fever,” he says, snapping a thermometer under your tongue before you can argue again.

You roll your eyes, but let him work. He grabs a blanket, a bottle of water, and puts together a makeshift rest station like you’re one of his patients, which, technically, you are now.

He’s trying very hard not to look at how tired you are. Or how soft your expression gets when you realize he’s fussing over you.

“You’re off shift,” he says finally. “Doctor’s orders.”

You blink. “I’m not a patient.”

“You are today.”

“Are you going to tuck me in next?” you tease, smirking.

He pauses. “Do you want me to?”

There’s a beat of silence. Your eyes go wide. Behind the curtain, someone stifles a laugh — definitely Collins this time.

You swallow. “I think I can handle it.”

He nods, steps back.

His pulse is a mess.

“Hydrate. Sleep. If I catch you working before that fever breaks, I’m chaining you to the bed.”

“You’re very bossy when you care.”

That one knocks the air out of him for a second

“Just rest,” he says, and leaves before his expression gives anything away.

He doesn’t mean to hover.

Okay, maybe he does.

He checks on you twice. Three times. Maybe four. Brings you water, adjusts the blanket, shushes the interns when they get too loud.

You’re sleeping peacefully, curled on your side, cheeks flushed and hair falling across your face. You look… soft. Vulnerable.

Human, in a way people rarely get to be in The Pitt.

One of the drunk patients watching the whole thing apparently had enough and screams “You gonna sing her a lullaby, too?”

“Shut up” he mutters, not looking away "Someone discharge him, for god's sake"

He leaves a tray of food by your cot before he finishes his shift. Stale bread, mystery stew, and a single perfect pear. He was going to keep it. But then again, he was also going to not fall for the most competent, infuriating, stubborn doctor in the entire ER.

Too late now.

He scribbles a note on a scrap of paper and tucks it under the tray.

You forgot to eat. Again. - R

He doesn’t sign it with his full name. Doesn’t need to. You’ll know.

When you’re back on shift the next day, fever gone, voice rough but steady, he’s relieved. More than he should be.

You meet him in the hallway, lean casually against the wall.

“Thanks,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The pear. The blanket. The whole, you know, aggressively caring thing.”

He shrugs. “I told you. Doctor’s orders.”

You smile. Slow and warm and devastating. “I think you care even when you’re off-duty.”

The same drunk patient snorts from down the hall. “Oh my God, just kiss already!”

You both freeze.

You open your mouth. Close it. Turn pink.

Robbie, somehow, stays composed. Barely.

“Don’t mind him” he mumbles annoyed

“I don’t.”

You glance up at him. Eyes soft, hopeful. For half a second, he thinks maybe, maybe, you’ll say something else.

Then an intern shouts about a bleeding patient in Bay 2, and the moment breaks.

You straighten, professionalism sliding back into place, but before you can walk off, Robbie reaches out, gently catching your wrist.

"Hey," he says, quietly. Just for you.

You stop. Look at him.

He hesitates. The hallway around you buzzes with footsteps, shouting, chaos. The usual.

But right here, with you, it's still.

"I do care when I’m off-duty," he says, voice low. “More than I probably should.”

Your eyes widen, but you don’t pull away. His fingers brush yours but not enough for anyone to see, but enough for you to feel it.

You smile, softer now. “You think I don’t?”

He huffs out a breath, not quite a laugh. “You’re impossible to read sometimes.”

“You’re impossible, period.”

You’re both smiling now. It’s ridiculous, almost in the middle of an ER, a trauma case probably seconds from crashing, but he doesn’t want to let the moment go.

"Look," you say suddenly, voice quieter, “I’ve been trying really hard to be professional about this, whatever this is, but the thing is…”

You trail off, shaking your head with a breathless laugh. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the shift with the twin stab wounds and the vending machine fire.”

He blinks. “That was—”

“—Four months ago,” you say. “I know.”

There’s a pause. Long enough for him to step just a little closer. His hand finding yours properly this time.

“I’ve been falling for you since you yelled at the trauma surgeon for calling you ‘nurse girl’” he says.

You laugh — really laugh — and he’s never been more gone.

“You gonna kiss me now?” you ask.

He does.

Right there in the hallway. Not dramatic, not performative. Just real.

Warm. A little rushed. A little messy. But exactly right.

You break apart a few seconds later, and your grin is pure sunlight. “Doctor’s orders?”

“Doctor’s orders,” he echoes.

The ER shouts around you. Someone yells something about a crash cart. Collins swears loudly in the distance.

You both glance toward Bay 2.

“Back to work?” you ask.

“For now.”

But as you both head back into the chaos, shoulders brushing, it’s clear something shifted.

Not just a moment anymore.

Something real. Finally said out loud.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time someone yells "just kiss already!", Robbie’ll just shrug and say:

“We already did.”

[lovelybucky1]

Little Red

warnings: dubcon, fem!reader, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, age gap, breeding, 18+ minors dni // divider by @strangergraphics

You know it isn’t safe to walk alone in the forest. The trees are dense, the paths are windy, and dangerous animals lurk in the underbrush, stalking their prey. You convince yourself that you’ll be fine; you’re only taking a short walk to your grandmother’s house with a basket of treats. Technically you’ve never made the trek by yourself before, but it can’t be that hard, can it?

You were overly confident when you walked into the woods, but you were quickly humbled when you got turned around. You came to an intersection of paths and you couldn’t remember which to take, so you took your best guess. Unfortunately, you chose the wrong one. As luck would have it, it started to rain during your walk, leaving your cloak, dress, and shoes soaked. You’re cold, uncomfortable, and lost.

After a mile or so more of walking in your wet socks, you stumble across a house. It isn’t your grandmother’s cottage with the lush garden in the front, but a log cabin with an overgrown lawn. You figure that someone inside must be able to give you directions, so you walk up to the door and knock.

At first, there’s no answer, so you try again. You can hear some shuffling from inside and you nervously squeeze some water out of your cloak as you wait for the person to greet you. When the door opens, a large man appears, blocking your view inside the house.

“What do you want?” the man asks with a gruff, slightly irritated voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I got lost on the way to my grandmother’s house. Could you point me in the right direction?” you ask. You feel intimidated by the man’s intense eyes, but you hope your nerves don’t come across in your voice.

The man opens the door wider and steps out, allowing you a better look at him. He is in a flannel shirt and jeans, and his face is scruffy like he hasn’t shaved in a week. His hair is a little wild, along with the look in his eyes. He’s undeniably handsome, in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way. You can tell even from under his shirt that he has muscles, and you have to stop your mind from picturing them.

The man raises a thick eyebrow at you as he takes in your appearance. You’re too distracted to notice the way he licks his lips.

“A little girl like you shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” he says.

“I know, sir, but I thought I knew where I was going,” you say, feeling embarrassed to explain your lack of direction to a stranger.

He sighs through his nose and opens the door wide enough for you to squeeze past. “Get out of the rain ‘fore you catch a cold.”

Accepting the kind invite, you walk inside the cabin. It’s cozy inside, with not much more than a bed in the corner, a wood stove, and a dining table. Books, candles, and bottles were strewn around, making the place look well-lived.

The man pulls out a chair at the table for you and you sit down. Wordlessly, he pulls your cloak over your head and drapes it near the woodstove to dry. The cabin is thankfully warm, and your frozen hands start to thaw. You quietly thank him, then introduce yourself. In return, he tells you his name is Logan, but he doesn’t offer any more information than that.

“You want some tea to warm you up?” he asks, and that rough voice is music to your ears.

“That would be great.”

He pours you a cup of hot tea from the kettle on the woodstove and you accept it gratefully. The tea is a bit too hot and burns your tongue, but the warmth inside your belly is still welcome. He watches you intently as you drink it, but you pretend you don’t notice.

“Thank you for the tea, Logan.” He doesn’t smile, but he gives you a soft kind of look. “It’s nice in here,” you say, looking around at the cabin’s interior.

“Don’t get many visitors,” he says.

“I doubt you get lost girls on your doorstep very often,” you joke.

“Guess it’s my lucky day,” he says, finally cracking a smile. “Been a long time since I’ve had something as sweet as you.”

The comment strikes you as odd, but before you can think too much about it, he sits down next to you. You get a closer look at his scruffy facial hair, his slightly wild eyes, and his teeth. When he opens his mouth to place his cigar inside, you catch a glimpse of his sharp canine teeth. They’re a lot sharper than your own, sharper than any you’ve ever seen on a person before. They intrigue you, and you want to get a closer look but your view is blocked by the end of his cigar being put into his mouth.

He must catch you staring at his mouth, because he gives you a small smirk around the cigar as he lights it.

“I really should get going,” you say, putting your empty mug down on the table.

“You only just got here,” he says. He places his hand on your wrist, gently pinning it to the table. “You’re still cold.”

You shiver at the feeling of his large, warm hand on your still-clammy skin but you try to brush it off. “My grandmother’s expecting me. I don’t want her to think anything bad happened to me.”

Through a puff of smoke, Logan says, “but something bad did happen to you.” You furrow your brows in confusion. “You got lost in the woods and wandered into a stranger’s house for safety.”

His grip on your wrist tightens and fear starts to build in your stomach. He grins at you, but it’s not a kind look. It’s sharp and predatory, like he’s about to eat you whole.

“Please let go,” you whisper.

“You’re mine now, dollface. I’m not lettin’ you get away.” You try to tug your arm back, but he’s too strong. “Even if you did run, you don’t know where you’re going. There’s monsters a lot worse than me out there, y’know.”

You chew on your bottom lip as your mind races to figure out how to get out of this situation. You’re in the middle of nowhere, well and truly lost, and the only person around is the man currently bruising your arm.

“Monsters that would rip a pretty thing like you to pieces. Not me, though. I know how to appreciate a delicate little flower.”

Logan stands up and tugs you to your feet. He moves his hands to your waist and holds you in front of him. You don’t bother trying to move because you know your efforts will be futile and likely will anger him. He looks down at you hungrily, and this time, you can’t help the words that come out of your mouth.

“Your teeth are so sharp,” you whisper.

Logan grins. “You like ‘em, sweetheart?” As afraid as you are, you do like them. “You wanna feel ‘em?”

Hesitantly and with a trembling hand, you reach up and touch the point of his tooth with the pad of your finger. The tooth is blunt enough not to pierce your skin, but you’re certain that if he bit down, he’d have no trouble drawing blood.

“You’re shaking,” he points out, as if you weren’t well aware of that fact.

Logan grasps your wrist and brings your hand back down to your side, pinning it there. He holds eye contact with you for a moment before leaning in close to you. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck and you can feel his hot breath on your skin.

His lips touch before his teeth, but the feeling is unmistakable. It’s a hot, painful pinch but he’s obviously restraining himself because you don’t feel a trickle of blood running down your neck.

You gasp and try to move away from him, but his hold on you is too strong. He chuckles against your skin and you can feel the smile on his lips.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs.

Logan’s hands wander from your waist to underneath your skirt. He pushes it up around your middle and he leans back so he can catch a glimpse of your panties. He growls low in his throat when he sees the scrap of pink cotton between your thighs.

He’s not even holding you anymore, but you’re frozen in place. You know you should be afraid. You are afraid of the man who's been threatening to eat you, but your body doesn’t seem to be on the same page as your mind. Fear and a strange sense of arousal mix in your stomach, and the feeling is only strengthened by the hungry look in Logan’s eyes. He sniffs the air, and a smirk forms on his lips.

His fingers toy at the elastic band of your panties before they slip beneath them. Your pussy is traitorously wet and Logan is delighted to learn this.

“You got a needy cunt, huh, doll?” he asks. You shake your head, but there’s really no use denying it. “Seems to me like you do.”

He pushes the fabric of your panties entirely to the side, exposing you to the air. He strokes over your lips with his fingers, and he slowly pushes his middle finger in. You take a shaky inhale at the feeling, and you pray your knees don’t give out.

“She takes me so easy. This isn’t why you came here, is it? Put on this whole act just to get this pussy played with?”

“No!” you whine. “My grandmother really is waiting for me.”

“Forget about her. Just you ‘nd me now.”

He pulls his finger out of you and wipes your wetness on the side of your thigh. He then bends down to lift you off the ground. He’s so strong and you’re powerless to do anything to stop him from carrying you over to the mattress in the corner of the cabin.

He lays you down and covers your body with his own before you can attempt to crawl away. He grabs your ankles and bends your legs so your pussy is presented to him. His finger returns inside of you, thrusting and stroking your inner walls.

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your moans, not wanting him to hear how much you’re enjoying this. You don’t want to be enjoying this, but he knows all the right places to touch you.

He works a second, then third finger inside you. Your arousal makes the slide easy, but this is the widest you’ve ever been stretched before. If he thinks you need three of his thick fingers to be open enough for his cock, you’re nervous for what’s to come.

“This ain’t your first time, is it, kid?” he asks fondly as he brushes his thumb on your clit, just enough to tease.

You’re afraid to answer his question. If you lie and say it isn’t, then he might go rougher on you. If you tell him you’re a virgin, however, it might awaken a different kind of beast.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, bet no one’s been in here before. That right, baby? You can tell me.”. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, your belly burning with shame and desperation. “Fuck,” he growls. “‘Course you fuckin’ are.”

He removes his fingers from your cunt and works open his fly, not caring that your wetness is getting on the denim of his jeans. He pushes them down far enough to free his cock from his boxers. Your fears have come true, and he is fucking huge.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow,” he says as he grasps his dick and strokes it. “You’ve been so good for me.”

He positions himself at your entrance and hits his cock on your clit a few times. You jolt at the contact, but the stretch of it inside of you is more shocking. Luckily, he stops once the tip of it is inside, allowing you to prepare yourself for the rest of the length.

“How’s it feel, dollface?” he asks.

“Good,” you squeak out. It does feel good, but it’s not enough. You’ve felt empty since he pulled his fingers out of you and you need to be full again.

“Can you take the rest or do I need to fuck you like this?” he says, pulling the tip out just to push it back in. You let out an involuntary moan which encourages him to do it again. He gives you shallow little thrusts which don’t do much for him, but have you whining pathetically. “All this just for the tip? The whole thing’s gonna blow your fuckin’ mind.”

“Please give it to me,” you say hurriedly, before the humiliation can catch up with you.

“Yeah?” he asks, cocky. “You were so scared before, but now you’re beggin’ for it?”

He slowly pushes in further, feeding your hungry pussy the rest of his cock. His tip hits your cervix before he bottoms out, and you whimper at the contact.

“Little puss can’t take all of me. Fuckin’ adorable,” he says as if he’s talking to himself.

He begins to fuck you, making sure not to go too deep and hurt you. If your mind wasn’t so clouded with pleasure, you’d find it odd that this monster is making an effort to be careful with you. You expect him to push in without any prep or worry for your comfort.

“Squeezin’ the fucking life outta me,” he growls. His hands grip your hips possessively and he uses them to control his thrusts. “Virgin cunt’s always been my favorite.”

You wonder how many times he’s done this; taken a lost girl’s virginity just because she wandered up to his door. You wonder what kind of state he’s going to leave you in, if you’ll be able to walk away or if you’ll have to stay in his bed while you recover.

“Fuck,” you curse, accidentally letting it slip when he bumps you cervix.

“That’s a dirty word, sweetheart. Am I making you feel that good?”

He’s making your fucking head spin, that’s how good he is. You don’t have more than your fingers to compare him to, but having someone else bully their way into you is so much better than your own fingers that can’t reach deep enough.

“Yes, fuck, Logan.”

“Keep fuckin’ begging for me, angel. I’ll give it to you good.”

He moves his hand onto the mattress next to your head and he braces himself on it. The new position gives him leverage to fuck into you, rutting quick and hard. The slap of skin against skin sounds like thunder in your head, and the flash of his white teeth is the lightning.

His cock is reshaping your pussy, making room for him to sit comfortably inside of you. He is claiming you in every sense of the word, and you’re happy to surrender yourself to him as long as he keeps making you feel this way.

“You were fucking made for me. My little girl, feelin’ so fucking good around me,” he mutters.

Logan’s pace gets progressively quicker and rougher, and he’s getting more animalistic. He’s growling and panting above you, and that wild look in his eyes is back. Like this, he looks exactly like the monsters from the stories you were told as a kid. Feral, aggressive, preying on innocent girls, taking virgins from their families. You’re not scared anymore, though. You’re being throughly fucked by the big bad wolf, and you’re feeling the best you’ve ever felt in your life.

Logan moves so his elbows are bracketing your head and his chest is flush against yours. He fucks you hard and fast, chasing his orgasm. You manage to slip your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, and it only takes a few touches to have you cumming around him. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling.

“Good girl, keep cumming for me,” he praises. “Knew you were gonna be the perfect mate.”

His words don’t register in your hazy mind until it’s too late. He’s grunting, growling out your name as he shoots his seed as deep inside of you as it’ll go. Your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you.

He rides out the waves of pleasure, but he doesn’t pull out of you even when he’s finished. He’s still on top of you, pinning you down but having enough mind not to crush you under his weight. His cum is plugged inside you, prevented from spilling out.

For the first time since arriving at the cabin, there is silence. The rain outside has stopped, and the only sound from inside is the mix of your breathing, both quickened from exertion.

You’re not sure how long it is until Logan sits up and pulls out of you, but it feels like ages. You’re boneless and tired, having had every bit of energy and pleasure drained from your body.

“You did so good for me, doll,” he smiles down at you. He moves to lay next to you on the bed, turning your body so he can slot himself behind you. He pulls you flush to his chest and you allow yourself to relax in his arms.

“So good,” you attempt to say, but it comes out a slurred mess.

He chuckles softly at that. “Get some sleep. You’re gonna need your energy.”

You don’t know what he means by that, but you decide you don’t care right now. You fall asleep listening to the loud, steady beat of his heart.

And what a stupid little lamb you are, turning your back on the wolf who’s wanted to eat you since he first laid eyes on you.

[jungwnies]

scaring your f1 boyfriend | requested

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : jump-scaring your boyfriend LOL

୨ৎ : genre : humor ୨ৎ : tws : teasing, yelling, fluff, lots of jumpscares, mentions of scary themes ୨ৎ : word count : 3840

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : the max photo above is literally killing me i cant 😭

ʚ・max verstappen

max had just stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the stress of the day. the bathroom was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlight outside filtering through the small frosted window. you, meanwhile, had been sitting on the couch, bored out of your mind, until the perfect idea struck you.

with the stealth of a spy, you crept to the bathroom and flipped the light switch off. the room was immediately plunged into shadow, save for the faint moonlight that spilled through the window. you silently positioned yourself in front of the shower curtain, your heart racing with anticipation.

inside, max paused. "y/n? did the power go out?"

you stayed silent, fighting the urge to laugh.

"y/n?" his voice was louder this time, tinged with confusion. "hello?"

still, you said nothing.

there was a beat of silence, then the water stopped. you heard him shuffling around, probably grabbing a towel.

"did you forget to pay the electric bill or something?" he asked, his dry humor cutting through the quiet. "seriously, what’s going on? you can at least answer me, you know."

you didn’t move a muscle, standing perfectly still, a shadow among shadows.

"y/n, if you’re trying to mess with me, it’s not funny," he said, his voice closer now.

the shower curtain shifted slightly, and then it flew open. for a second, max didn’t register what he was seeing—the faint outline of a figure standing inches away from him, completely silent and unmoving.

"WHAT THE F—" he jumped back, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as he grabbed onto the shower rod for support.

"y/n!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as he stood there, towel in hand, glaring at you with wide eyes.

"oh my god," he muttered, his hand still on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "i actually thought i was about to get murdered in my own shower. do you know how ridiculous that is?"

"you should’ve seen your face!" you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.

he stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. "you’re lucky i didn’t slip and die. imagine explaining that to everyone." his lips twitched, betraying the smallest hint of a smile.

"totally worth it," you managed between giggles.

he groaned, wrapping the towel around himself. "you’re insane, you know that?" he muttered as he walked past you.

"and you’re so easy to scare," you shot back, grinning.

as he left the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "enjoy your victory, y/n. because next time, i’m getting you."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis had just wrapped up an exhausting day—a full schedule of training, meetings, and, of course, dodging paparazzi. as he entered the dimly lit bedroom, he was humming lightly to himself, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos you were orchestrating under the bed. you were lying in wait, suppressing giggles as you positioned yourself for the ultimate ankle grab.

he moved around the room with his usual grace, taking his time as he set his phone down on the nightstand and slipped off his jacket. "man, what a day," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his braids. oblivious to the brewing chaos below him, he leaned down to untie his sneakers. you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing—you were so close.

finally, he stood, stretching his arms with a relaxed sigh, and took a casual step toward the bed. now or never, you thought, and as soon as his foot came within reach, you shot your hand out and grabbed his ankle.

"OH SH—!" lewis screamed, leaping so high he looked like he was auditioning for a horror movie. he scrambled backward, nearly tripping over himself as his eyes darted around the room, wide with panic.

"NOPE. NO. NOT TODAY," he shouted, grabbing a pillow off the bed like it was a weapon. "WHO—WHAT IS THAT?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. rolling out from under the bed, you were already crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air.

"y/n?!" he blinked, realization dawning as his terror morphed into sheer disbelief. "nah, nah, nah. are you serious right now?! you’re the demon under the bed?!"

"your face! your scream!" you choked out between fits of laughter. "i didn’t know you had that kind of altitude! do they measure verticals in f1?"

he stood there, hands on his hips, still holding the pillow like a shield. "first of all, don’t test me. i thought i was about to get dragged to hell. second of all, i will sue you for emotional damages."

"oh, come on," you teased, finally sitting up. "you’re a seven-time world champion, but a little ankle grab gets you?"

"don’t even start," he said, his voice shaking with residual laughter as he tried to regain his composure. "i thought i was about to throw hands with a ghost or something!"

"worth it," you grinned, dodging the pillow he threw at you as he finally shook his head, laughing.

ʚ・george russell

it was 3am, and george woke up to what he thought was the faint sound of your voice calling his name. groggy and slightly disoriented, he sat up in bed, glancing over—only to find your side empty.

“y/n?” he called softly, but there was no response.

with a sigh, he swung his legs over the bed and got up, rubbing the back of his neck. the house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every little sound feel amplified.

he stepped out into the dark hallway, the faint moonlight from a nearby window barely illuminating the path ahead. “y/n?” he called again, his voice a bit louder this time.

then he saw them.

at the far end of the hallway stood two small figures wrapped in identical blankets, their faces barely visible in the dim light. they were completely still, their heads slightly tilted to the side in perfect synchronization.

george froze, his breath catching in his throat. “what... the hell?”

he squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. his heart started to pound as one of them took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward.

“y/n, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he was definitely spooked.

then, in perfect unison, your twin cousins whispered, “come play with us...”

that was it. george practically stumbled backward, his hand slamming into the wall for support. “oh, NO. absolutely NOT.”

he turned on his heel and bolted back toward the bedroom, muttering under his breath, “nope, nope, nope. i didn’t sign up for this. i date you, not some stephen king horror scene.”

you, of course, were hiding just out of sight, trying your hardest not to laugh as you watched the whole thing unfold.

george made it back to the bedroom, his nerves still shot. he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair and muttering, “this is why i don’t watch horror movies…”

just as he started to relax, he looked up—and there you were, standing completely still in the doorway, wrapped in your own blanket, your face partially obscured by the shadows.

"oh, for—NOPE!" he yelped, scrambling backward on the bed like a man who had just seen his worst nightmare materialize. "y/n, what the actual—how are you everywhere right now?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, flipping on the lights as tears streamed down your face. “oh my god, george, you’re too easy!”

his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and that’s when he noticed your cousins peeking into the room behind you, still eerily in sync, still in their matching blankets.

he groaned, rubbing his temples. “y/n, it’s three in the morning. i genuinely thought i was about to get haunted by some creepy twins.”

“but you weren’t,” you teased. “just my cousins. aren’t they great actors?”

the twins gave him a little wave, their innocent smiles betraying none of the chaos they’d just caused. george blinked, staring at them, then at you. “your cousins?! so, you planned all of this?”

“yep,” you said proudly, walking over to sit beside him. “they nailed it, didn’t they?”

“nailed it?” george repeated, still clutching his chest. “y/n, i thought i was about to die. do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up at 3am and see that at the end of a hallway?”

you couldn’t stop laughing as he continued his rant. “honestly, you’re lucky i didn’t faint. or worse—trip and break something.”

“but you didn’t,” you teased, nudging him.

he sighed dramatically, finally flopping back onto the bed. “if this is the kind of chaos i’m signing up for with you, i’m going to need to start sleeping with a nightlight.”

you grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “you love it.”

he groaned but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “remind me to check for tiny people in blankets before leaving bed at 3am from now on.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those mornings where carlos was running a little behind, juggling work and trying to get out the door as quickly as possible. he hopped into his car, mind already on the busy day ahead. he tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and zoomed off toward the office, not noticing that you were quietly hiding in the backseat.

you’d sneaked into the car earlier when he was distracted, hiding behind the seats and waiting for the perfect moment to scare him.

as carlos drove through the city, his thoughts were consumed with meetings, deadlines, and that one email he needed to send. he hummed along to the radio, completely oblivious to the fact that you were crouched behind him, practically holding your breath.

when he finally pulled into the parking lot at his office, he parked the car and got out, walking around to the back to grab his jacket. you could feel the excitement building up. now, it was showtime.

as soon as carlos opened the back door and turned his back to grab his jacket, you slowly sat up and leaned forward. you had just the right angle to pop your head into his line of sight.

“you forgot something,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

carlos froze. his eyes widened, his whole body went stiff, and before he could even process what was going on, he screamed, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

"¡ME CAGO EN LA P...!" he shouted, his heart racing as his body jerked back. "¡QUÉ COÑO ES ESO?" ("I shit myself!" "What the hell is that?!)

his hands shot up as if he was ready to defend himself, but he just stood there in complete shock, looking at you in the back seat.

after a few seconds of complete silence, he finally found his voice. "y/n, WHAT THE HELL?!"

you were barely holding back your laughter, completely enjoying the chaos you’d caused. “i got you good, huh?”

"cabron!" he cursed, still catching his breath as he tried to steady himself. (jerk!) “why the hell would you do that?!”

you stepped out of the car, still laughing. “i couldn’t resist!”

“seriously, you scared the life out of me,” he said, shaking his head and trying to calm down. he took a deep breath, his voice finally switching back to english. “you know, one of these days, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love it,” you teased with a grin.

“yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing his chest where his heart was still pounding. “next time, you better believe i’m checking the back seat before i even get in the car.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, still smiling from ear to ear.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was live on twitch, fully engrossed in a high-stakes sim racing session. he had his headphones on, occasionally glancing at the chat to answer questions or laugh at their antics. what he didn’t know was that you, his girlfriend, were plotting a masterpiece of chaos behind the scenes.

armed with some impressively dark body paint, you transformed yourself into a shadowy figure, blending almost perfectly into the darkness behind his gaming chair. the setup was perfect—his room was dimly lit, with just the glow of his monitors keeping things visible. you slipped quietly into position behind him, crouched low, and waited.

his chat was quick to notice something off.

chat: "charles there’s someone behind you 😳" "bro wtf is that in the back" "TURN AROUND CHARLES."

but charles just chuckled. "guys, stop trying to scare me. i know y/n isn’t here, she’s downstairs."

you bit your lip to suppress a laugh as the chat erupted with frantic messages. then, it was time to strike. you let out a low, guttural growl, something straight out of a horror movie.

charles froze mid-turn. "uh—what was that?" he muttered, glancing around nervously.

"it’s probably the wind," he said, but his voice wavered.

he finally spun around in his chair, squinting into the shadows. at first, he didn’t see anything—just darkness. but then, he grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight.

"chat, you’re being ridiculous, there’s no one here—"

and that’s when he saw you.

painted in a deep, almost pitch-black shade, you stared back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. the flashlight beam caught your eerie silhouette, and he let out the most high-pitched scream you’d ever heard.

"MON DIEU!" he shouted, nearly falling out of his chair as his chat went wild with laughter and messages like "💀💀💀" and "i can’t breathe."

you burst out laughing, standing up to reveal the full extent of your paint job. "surprise!"

"y/n, WHAT IS THIS?" he exclaimed, clutching his chest. "i thought you were a ghost! or a demon!"

his chat was absolutely losing it.

"she’s a menace omg." "y/n deserves an oscar for this." "never trusting the dark again."

charles glared at you, though his lips twitched in amusement. "you are unbelievable. i will get you back for this, i promise."

"worth it," you said with a grin, blowing him a kiss.

the clip went viral, and for weeks, his fans teased him about his "ghost girlfriend." meanwhile, you were already planning your next prank.

ʚ・lando norris

lando was sprawled on the couch, his attention fully on the game in front of him. his fingers moved rapidly over the controller, the sound of the game providing a steady backdrop to his intense focus. you had been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and now was your chance.

earlier, you had picked up a realistic fake cockroach, the kind that would easily fool anyone into thinking it was real. with it in hand, you silently crept toward lando as he was deeply engrossed in his game, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

you waited until he leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, and then you placed the cockroach right on his lap. you quickly backed away, staying just out of sight, holding your breath, waiting for his reaction.

it didn’t take long.

lando, completely unaware at first, shifted in his seat, and then his eyes widened when he glanced down and saw the cockroach. for a moment, he froze, his brain taking a second to process what was happening. and then, in true lando fashion, his reaction was absolutely priceless.

“what the hell?!” he yelped, jumping off the couch like he’d just been electrocuted. the controller flew from his hands, landing with a loud clunk on the floor. he stepped back, looking down at his lap like the cockroach was some kind of ticking time bomb.

“oh my god!” he shouted, his voice higher than usual as he stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the floor. “y/n!! what the actual hell?!”

you were already standing by the door, biting your lip, trying to keep from bursting out laughing at his reaction.

“i—uh, i just thought you might want to meet a new friend,” you said, grinning as you stepped into the room.

lando’s face had gone from absolute panic to an exaggerated glare. “no! that was not funny. you’re a menace!” he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his heart was still racing. “i thought i was about to die. i can’t believe you did that to me.”

you were laughing at this point, absolutely loving how freaked out he was. “you’re so dramatic,” you teased, holding up the fake cockroach. “it’s just a toy, lando.”

he stared at you like you were insane. “you know i’m terrified of bugs, and you still thought this was a good idea?” he rubbed his face in exasperation, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lips. “i swear, i’m going to get you back for this.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, still grinning. “you’re so lucky i didn’t make it real.”

lando shot you a side-eye. “next time, i’m locking the door. and you’re not getting anywhere near me with anything that crawls.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you had been eyeing that haunted doll on ebay for weeks. the description was too good to pass up: “genuine haunted doll, spiritual energy present, handle with care.” it was perfect for a prank, and you knew oscar would hate it. he was already freaked out by anything remotely supernatural, so you were just dying to get your hands on this doll. when it finally arrived in the mail, you couldn’t wait to start your little game.

of course, oscar had warned you that buying a haunted doll was a terrible idea. “don’t you dare bring that thing into our house,” he had said, his face scrunched in worry. “it’s bad enough that you already watch ghost shows. why do you need an actual haunted doll?”

you grinned mischievously, already planning your moves. “it’ll be fine, oscar. i’m sure it’s just a bunch of fake stories.”

he didn’t look convinced, but as usual, you went ahead with your plan. the night after the doll arrived, you decided it was time to mess with him. you placed the doll in the living room chair, its beady little eyes staring blankly ahead. in the dead of night, you casually walked past, dropping it on the floor, facing a different direction.

by the time oscar woke up the next morning, he was already uneasy. he noticed the doll on the floor in the living room, but he shrugged it off—until it happened again.

the next night, you quietly slipped the doll onto the bed, positioning it so that its lifeless gaze met his when he opened his eyes in the morning. as expected, he jumped back when he saw it, groaning loudly, "y/n, come on! this isn't funny anymore!"

"i swear, oscar, i don’t know how it got there," you said, acting all innocent, trying not to burst out laughing. "maybe you moved it?"

he glared at you. "no, i didn’t. i know you’re messing with me."

but it wasn’t over. you kept sneaking the doll into different spots: the bathroom counter, the kitchen table, the shower. he would get startled each time, becoming more and more agitated. you kept up the act, pretending to be clueless, like the doll was really just showing up on its own.

that night, though, something strange happened.

as you were lying in bed, just drifting off to sleep, you heard something faint. a soft scraping sound. it was so quiet, you thought it was just your imagination. but then, you heard it again—a slight, dragging noise, coming from the living room.

oscar shifted beside you, his eyes wide. "did you hear that?" he whispered.

you stayed still, listening, trying to figure out if it was just the house settling. but then it happened again, louder this time. a small creak of wood. it sounded like… steps.

oscar was now wide awake, heart racing. “please tell me that’s not the doll.” he whispered, voice shaking.

you swallowed hard, your earlier bravado fading. “it couldn’t be.”

both of you slowly got up, creeping into the living room. as you approached, the doll was sitting in the chair again—but its head was turned toward the door. the same direction you and oscar had just come from. you froze, your stomach dropping.

oscar's voice was barely a whisper. “nope. i’m done. this is actually haunted.”

you could barely breathe as you stepped closer, but something felt off. something wasn’t right.

and then, in an instant, the doll’s head jerked to the side. a loud creak echoed through the room as it turned to face both of you fully.

oscar went pale, his voice cracking. “y/n… i think your little prank backfired.”

before you could react, oscar practically bolted for the door, yelling, "i’m not sleeping here tonight! i’ll take my chances with the cold!"

you stood there, dumbfounded, looking between him and the doll. your heart raced as you realized you had been pranking yourself just as much as him.

“uh, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, stepping backward. “maybe we should call it quits on this haunted doll thing.”

but oscar didn’t even hear you. he was already out the door and halfway down the hallway. all you could do was look at the doll, now facing the front door with a strangely satisfied expression.

“looks like you got me back,” you sighed, glancing at the doll’s unblinking eyes.

and for the first time since buying it, you had second thoughts about having it around at all.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the dread creeping up your spine. oscar’s panicked face flashed in your mind, and you realized you’d gone way too far.

you looked at the doll, still in the chair, and muttered to yourself, “i think i’m calling someone tomorrow.”

oscar, hearing your voice behind him, turned back toward you from the hallway. “what?”

“i’m calling someone who deals with these haunted… things,” you said, crossing your arms and trying to look confident despite the unease settling in your chest. “someone who knows how to get rid of it without… angering it, or whatever.”

oscar stared at you for a moment before his eyes widened. “you’re seriously going to call someone? now?”

“i don’t think this is a joke anymore, oscar,” you replied, glancing back at the doll. “i’m getting rid of it tomorrow. trust me. i’ll handle it.”

oscar didn’t look convinced, but his relief was palpable. “good,” he muttered. “i’m sleeping at a hotel tonight.”

you watched him disappear down the hall, before turning back to the doll. “guess we’ve both learned our lesson, huh?” you said quietly, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

tomorrow, you’d be dealing with the haunted doll… but for tonight, you figured it was better to stay far, far away.

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