#and it hurts. there's still love. but it hurts.

[yueebby]

the end times — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru thinks he’s going to die because you’re giving him the silent treatment. (aka your first big fight with gojo).

contents. hurt/comfort, ooc, lovesick!gojo, you give him the silent treatment and he goes crazy, he is so pathetic in this one, tw obsessive behavior (he makes it EVERYONE’S problem), gojo’s pov

notes. loosely inspired by that one scene from yakuza fiance. not proofread whats new

Gojo knows he’s screwed up the second he steps into the common area of Jujutsu Tech’s dormitory. The air feels thick, wrong. And then there’s you, curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes aren’t moving.

His grin falters for half a second before he masks it with his usual bravado. “I always knew you had a little freak in you, but reading your erotic books out in the open? Who knew my girl was such a perv.”

The joke usually earns him a laugh, a shove, maybe even a teasing retort. But tonight, the silence that follows is deafening.

The pit in his stomach grows.

“Sweetheart?” He tries again, waving a hand obnoxiously close to your face.

You finally react, swatting his hand away, but there’s no playfulness in the motion. Your eyes don't even meet his.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, still staring at your book. “Again.”

Gojo scoffs, irritation bubbling. Not at you, never at you, but at the damn book that’s getting more attention than him.

“Ah, you know how it is. Got held up in Kyoto,” he says with a shrug.

The words leave his mouth too easily. He doesn’t realize his mistake until you finally, finally look at him.

And it’s nothing like usual.

There’s no warmth in your gaze, no sparkle of amusement or exasperation. Instead, you pin him with a look so sharp it strips him bare, leaving nothing but the hollow weight in his chest.

“You missed our date.”

His breath catches. His throat goes dry. “I–”

“I’m not mad about that.”

Relief floods him too fast, too soon. His shoulders sag as he leans down, tilting his head for a well-earned kiss. “You’re the best. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

You pull away before he can touch you.

Gojo freezes.

“[Name]?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You know, it’s funny.”

There’s nothing funny about this moment.

His pulse thrums as you continue, voice eerily steady. “That your mission was in Kyoto. I mean, we have a whole sister school there, full of sorcerers ready to handle a first-grade threat. So why would they need you, specifically?”

His stomach drops.

He’s never been good at guilt, not when he’s spent his whole life believing he’s untouchable. But now, standing before you, unable to meet your eyes, it sits heavy in his gut.

And you don’t let up.

“Of course, I asked around. Thought maybe I was overthinking it.” A humorless scoff escapes you. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my boyfriend was too busy meeting with his future bride.”

Gojo’s mouth opens, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

“That’s–” he starts, then stops because, shit, you’re staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone you can’t trust. The realization makes his stomach churn.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you say bitterly, arms crossing as you lean back into the couch. “I mean, I’d love to hear how you were going to explain this one, Gojo Satoru.”

Full name. That’s how he knows he’s really fucked up.

“It’s not–It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, voice unusually hoarse. His usual bravado, his charm, none of it is coming to him. He doesn’t even know where to start. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t hiding it. I just–”

“You just forgot to tell me that your clan is arranging a marriage for you?” you cut in sharply. “That slipped your mind?”

“No! Yes—Fuck, that’s not what I mean,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s never felt like this before. Like he’s scrambling for footing on uneven ground. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter, sweetheart. I wasn’t ever going to go through with it. You know that, right?”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do I? I mean, Suguru seemed shocked when I didn’t know that these were recurring dates set by your clan.”

Gojo falters.

“You didn’t even think to tell me, Satoru,” you say, voice quieter now, but somehow even more devastating. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

His heart clenches. That’s not–God, that’s not what this is.

“Of course you deserve to know! But I—” he exhales sharply, trying to gather his words. “I just—Fuck, I thought it was stupid. I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

You shake your head, looking almost tired now. “Right. Because I’m just supposed to assume you’d never go through with it. After your multiple dates with her. Because I’m supposed to read your mind, just like always.”

The weight of your words crashes into him, and Gojo suddenly realizes that this isn’t just about Kyoto. This isn’t just about one lie, one mistake. This is about every time he’s brushed things off, every time he’s let silence speak for him, every time he’s sat through those excruciating meetings, knowing he would never go through with it, but never once thinking about how it would feel for you to find out this way. This is about every time he’s expected you to just get him without him ever having to say a word.

This is about how, even after everything, you still don’t know how much he loves you.

And now, looking at you, Gojo is terrified that he’s already lost his chance to prove it.

“I’m going to sleep,” you stand up from your place on the couch. 

Gojo tries to follow you, “Listen, baby–”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need some space.” you turn around to send him a teary glare and that stops him in his tracks. He had never seen you cry. And it tore him apart knowing that he was the cause. 

The sound of your door slamming echoes in Gojo’s mind. 

Gojo Satoru is the first one in class the next day.

He drums his fingers against the desk, restless in a way he can't explain, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that he spent the entire night not sleeping. His mind was too busy replaying the way you had looked at him, no, the way you hadn’t looked at him.

He had left you alone and upset. He had made you feel like you were second to someone else. And worst of all, he hadn’t even realized it until it was too late.

“This must be a first.”

Gojo glances up as Suguru enters, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Gojo Satoru, on time? It must be the end times.”

He knows it’s a joke, but it might as well be the end times. Gojo doesn’t respond, just presses his lips into a thin line as he goes back to mentally reciting the apology speech he’s been revising in his head all night.

Then the shoji door slides open again.

You walk in with Shoko, your head tilted slightly as you whisper something to her, something he’ll never get to hear because you don’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, you take a seat at the farthest desk, as if he isn’t even there.

A part of him withers away.

But Gojo Satoru isn’t one to give up.

If words won’t get your attention, he’ll just have to be Gojo Satoru about it. He leans back in his chair and stretches obnoxiously, before loudly exclaiming, “Yaga-sensei! Are those grey hairs from your recent divorce?”

He grins, waiting for the familiar sound of your laugh, for that little shake of your head, for you to scold him like always.

But you don’t even look at him.

Instead, he’s met with Geto and Shoko’s twin expressions of abject horror, and before he has a chance to register what’s happening–

BAM!

Yaga’s palm collides with his head, sending him face-first into his desk.

Even through the throbbing pain, he can only think about one thing.

You didn’t even react.

“And how exactly is she ignoring you?”

Shoko’s grumpy voice echoes through the morgue, where she’s been attempting to practice her technique. She’s clearly unimpressed that Gojo Satoru has decided to spam-call her instead of dealing with his own problems.

“She’s ignoring me, Shoko,” Gojo groans dramatically from the other side of the Jujutsu Tech campus, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as he stands in front of your door. “I’ve been knocking for an hour. She’s in there. I know she’s in there, but she won’t answer.”

“Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit,” Shoko says dryly. “Honestly, I don’t know why it took her this long to hold you accountable. She’s let your bad behavior slide for way too long.”

“Why are we talking about me like I’m some kind of dog?!”

Shoko ignores him.

“From the sound of it, you really messed up. I mean, who keeps a marriage a secret from their girlfriend?” She pauses, then adds with a smirk in her voice, “Oh, right. You.”

Gojo groans, pressing his forehead against your door. “You and I both know that’s not what happened. But she doesn’t. And she won’t even give me the time of day to explain.”

Shoko sighs. “Give her time to cool down.”

“And what, let her decide she wants to run off and marry some other guy? Move to a cute little beach town in Enoshima, start a family, have three kids, and leave all Jujutsu sorcery behind?”

There’s a long pause before Shoko makes a disgusted sound. “O-oi. Keep your weirdly detailed fantasies to yourself.”

“I’m just being realistic,” he insists, clutching his flip phone dramatically.

Shoko promptly hangs up on him.

Gojo stares at the device for a moment before slowly lowering it, exhaling hard.

Then he rests his head against your door again, defeated.

But Gojo Satoru was never one to admit defeat, so he tries again. He returns to your door the very next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“[Name]!” he chirps. “I bought us some parfait! Let’s talk things over, yeah?”

Silence.

Not even the sound of movement.

But Gojo Satoru is not easily discouraged.

So Gojo Satoru comes again the next morning.

“[Name]!” he knocks again, this time balancing a slice of strawberry cake in one hand. “This is all my fault, so come out and let me apologize properly!”

Nothing.

Gojo sighs, leaning against the doorframe, about to knock again when—

Your phone rings.

His breath catches as he presses his ear to the wood.

“Hi, Suguru?”

His heart stops.

“Yeah, we’re still on for the movie. I’m just about to leave right now.”

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru understands what people mean when they say they feel like they’ve been punched in the gut.

Because you’re going to Suguru.

You’re not just ignoring him, you’re choosing someone else.

His fingers twitch at his sides as a feeling he doesn’t like at all creeps into his chest. It’s something ugly, something unfamiliar. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Was that how you felt?

He wants to knock again, wants to demand that you open the door, look at him, let him fix this before you walk away from him any further.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, shoves his hands into his pockets, and forces himself to step away from your door.

Forces himself to give you the space you deserved.

You don’t know why you relent so easily.

You shouldn’t. Not after the way he lied, the way he kept something so important from you.

And yet, when you hear him pacing outside your door, his nervous energy practically seeping through the walls, you feel something crack.

He’s been outside your room for the nth time this week. Every day, like clockwork, he’s knocked. Brought your favorite snacks. Talked to you through the door, filling the silence with his ridiculous banter, even when you refused to answer.

You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your blanket a little tighter. You should stay angry. But you can't.

You sigh, pressing your forehead to your knee.

Maybe it’s time to stop punishing the both of you.

With a deep breath, you stand, crossing the room to the door. When you open it, Gojo nearly stumbles forward, mid-step in his pacing.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and filled with so much desperate hope it makes your chest ache.

And the way his face lights up like you’ve just handed him the entire world tells you that, maybe, you were never going to be able to stay mad at him forever.

But you’re here, leaning on your door frame with your arms crossed, your nails digging into your skin as you glare at the man who has spent the last ten minutes tripping over his words, looking wrecked in a way you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, lips are parted like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know where to start.

Finally, you scoff, breaking the silence. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back into my room.”

“No!,” Gojo steps forward instinctively, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. And after everything, he is. “I screwed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, really?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, I really fucked up.”

Silence.

You should say something. You should demand an explanation, yell, maybe even cry, but you’re so tired. You’ve spent days twisting yourself into knots over this, convincing yourself you never meant as much to him as he did to you.

And then Gojo says it.

“I should’ve told you.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have told you after the first meeting. After the first second they brought it up.” He swallows hard. “But I was stupid. I thought if I ignored it, if I went through the motions, if I waited for the right moment… then it wouldn’t matter. That it would be over before you ever had to know.”

You shake your head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Satoru, do you even hear yourself? Do you get what it was like for me to find out from someone else? To hear that the person I–” you cut yourself off, but the damage is done. You see it in the way his breath hitches, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you.

“The person you what?” he asks softly, pleading.

You clench your jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

Your shake your head. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” he says, and the sheer brokenness in his voice makes your throat tighten. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to you that I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.” he exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear on everything, I was never going to go through with it. I never even showed up to any of the dates, so they kept ambushing me under the guise of missions! I sat through every single one of those goddamn meetings thinking about how ridiculous it was, how there was only ever one person I wanted.”

He stops himself, inhaling sharply.

And then, quieter, almost afraid:

“How there’s only ever you.”

The words hit you like a fist to the chest.

Gojo watches you carefully, breathless, waiting. Hoping. He’s given you the truth, raw and unfiltered, and now it’s up to you.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his world that makes you believe him.

For the first time in a week, your lips find his, and Gojo swears he can finally breathe again. The warmth of your palm against his cheek, the way your fingers curl slightly as if grounding yourself in him. It’s enough to make him melt.

"You’re so insufferably cheesy, Satoru," you murmur against his lips, your breath warm, teasing. "It makes me so angry that I love it." A pause, a soft exhale. "But I forgive you."

His grin is instant, smug and shameless. "That was good, huh?" He tilts his head, cerulean eyes twinkling. "I’m willing to bet your heart skipped a beat."

You roll your eyes, but you kiss him again, slower this time, because, damn it, he’s right.

extra!

“I demand some extra loving!” Satoru sprawls dramatically across your bed, limbs hanging off the edge like a defeated king.

You barely spare him a glance, flipping a page in your book as you lie comfortably on your stomach. “And why, exactly, do you deserve that?”

He lifts his head, pouting. “I deserve it after a week’s worth of psychological trauma. Don’t think I forgot that you ditched me for Suguru.”

“Oh… that.”

“Yeah. That.” His voice is thick with exaggerated betrayal.

You finally look at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It was a fake phone call, Satoru. You were just so insufferable camping outside my door that I had to make up an excuse.”

His jaw drops. “Huh?!”

[whosashan]

Hugs Are Mandatory

PAIRING: clingy!lads men x gn!non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Lately, your boyfriend had become impossibly dramatic—and hopelessly clingy. What's the reason for that?

A/N: I feel like my writing has really downgraded lately, so I felt like writing whatever I had in mind instead of doing a request ;p

Xavier

It wasn’t unusual for Xavier to cling to you, especially when he was sleepy—his heavy eyelids fluttering, the warmth of your scent lulling him into drowsiness as he melted into your embrace.

But lately? He had reached a whole new level of attachment. It was as if you were the very air he breathed, as though spending even a moment apart would drain him of life itself.

You were in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for your video game night, and yet—even now—he was right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The soft tickle of his breath against your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Xavi…” You chuckled, the amusement in your tone obvious. “You could just wait on the couch, you know.”

“I’d much rather wait for you here,” he murmured, his voice honeyed and low, punctuated by a lingering kiss against your neck.

You exhaled, shaking your head in mock exasperation before turning to face him. His big, pleading eyes locked onto yours, his lower lip jutted out in a dramatic pout. And despite the sheer closeness between you, he still looked like he wanted more.

“What’s up with you and this sudden clinginess?” you asked, raising a curious brow, though your voice was tinged with amusement.

For a moment, he simply hummed, rubbing his cheek against yours like an oversized cat. You frowned. Now that you thought about it, Xavier did have some very cat-like tendencies.

But then… the silence stretched. Suspiciously so.

“Xavier.” Your tone sharpened slightly, prompting him to finally meet your gaze. That’s when you saw it—guilt. Clear as day. He looked like a scolded puppy.

“I… may have accidentally stained your favorite hoodie,” he admitted sheepishly. “With… curry.”

You blinked. Processing.

Then, in the calmest, most serious tone you could muster, you said, “Xavier, I suggest you start running.”

His eyes flickered with panic, scanning your face for any sign of mercy. There was none.

And so, he listened. He turned on his heel, ready to make his grand escape—but it was already too late. You leapt onto his back, tugging at his hair (just enough to make him suffer, not enough to really hurt him).

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BETRAYED ME LIKE THIS!” you howled, whining dramatically as you clung to him.

“OW! OW—HEY—OWWW!” He yelped, flailing helplessly under your relentless assault. “I’M SORRY!”

...

After an intense battle, you sat victorious, hair disheveled, while Xavier nursed his wounds—namely, the light bite marks on his arms and his sore neck.

“Keep going,” you instructed, arms crossed as you watched him scribble an apology letter, his wrist cramping from the thousand-word essay you’d demanded as retribution.

He groaned, rubbing his aching hand. “I swear my love for you is being tested right now.”

Guess his clinginess wasn’t entirely unprovoked, after all.

Zayne

You stared at your boyfriend, bewildered, as he clung to you with a desperate intensity—his face buried in your chest, arms wrapped around you like he feared you might vanish. Zayne had his moments, always loved keeping you close, but this? This was… unusual. And incredibly distracting, too, as you felt the warm brush of his breath against your skin while you tried, in vain, to focus on your book.

“Aww, babe, did something happen?” You set the book aside, fingers threading through his hair in slow, soothing strokes.

He let out a deep sigh, his grip tightening instead of answering. The silence was enough to make worry creep up your spine.

Gently, you cupped his cheeks and tilted his face up toward you, only to be met with those eyes—big, soft, and guilt-ridden. Damn those puppy eyes.

“Zayne…” You narrowed your gaze, testing the waters.

His response? To promptly bury his face back in your chest, as if hiding from the inevitable.

Your fingers stilled in his hair. “Spill.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Then, in a voice lower than usual—like he was about to confess a mortal sin—he muttered, “Darling… You do know how much I adore you, don’t you?”

Your brow arched. Suspicion bloomed.

And then, it clicked.

“No. You didn’t.” Your voice teetered on the edge of disbelief.

Zayne sighed. “…I’m afraid I did.”

The limited-edition chocolate. The one your friend had brought from abroad. The one you had been saving for a special occasion.

Oh. Oh, he was dead.

"Zayne," you began, tone deceptively calm, "as much as I love you, I feel like I’m about to kill you right now.”

Finally, he had the decency to sit up, meeting your gaze with an expression that was somehow both stoic and dramatically sorrowful.

“I apologize…” he murmured, as if this was some tragic accident. “I’m not even sure how it happened. One moment, it was in the pantry and then… gone.”

You inhaled sharply. “AGAIN?”

And now?

Zayne sat in front of you, watching—suffering—as you mercilessly devoured all his favorite sweets. Every last thing he was craving, even the rare, limited-edition ones he had been saving.

You held up a delicate macaron, twirling it between your fingers. His eyes lit up, lips parting instinctively, hope flickering in his expression.

“Oh, I bet you’d love a bite, huh?” you mused, bringing it just close enough to tease him.

His mouth barely opened before—poof!—the macaron disappeared. Straight into your mouth.

You smirked. “But traitors don’t deserve sweets.”

Zayne let out a betrayed sigh, slumping back dramatically. As if things weren’t bad enough, you had also sentenced him to the ultimate punishment: a one-week kiss ban.

And for a man who craved your affection like air, that? That was the cruelest torture of all.

Rafayel

Rafayel was clinging to you—as per usual. His body shifted restlessly as he tried to find the perfect spot on your lap, his head nestled against your thighs, his face nuzzling into them like a needy cat.

But something was… off.

Normally, he'd be whining about how comfy you were, or dramatically declaring that he could stay like this forever. But right now? He was unusually quiet. And that immediately set off alarms in your head.

"Raf," you murmured, brushing stray strands of hair from his face, fingers gently tracing his cheek. "Is something bothering you?"

He blinked up at you, and that was when you saw it.

The guilt.

His big, guilty eyes—a look you knew all too well—sent a shiver of suspicion down your spine.

And then, in a deep, tragic sigh, he began.

"Cutie…" He stroked your thighs, voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow. "Is your love unconditional? Would you still love me, even if I committed the worst of crimes?"

Your stomach dropped.

"Rafayel." His full name left your lips like a warning, making him tense. His expression somehow grew even guiltier.

"What did you do?" Your voice was calm—too calm. Your eye twitched slightly.

He hesitated. Then, finally, he exhaled and averted his gaze.

"I... I didn’t mean to," he mumbled. "It just kind of happened..."

Your arms folded. "Go on."

He swallowed.

"I—" He sighed again, looking at you like a man on death row. "I watched the new episode of Love Island without you."

Silence.

The betrayal.

Your breath caught in your throat. "You did what?!"

The sheer audacity. The disrespect. The ultimate relationship crime.

"How could you do this to me?!" you gasped, yanking your legs out from under him so fast that his head hit the couch with a dull thud.

"Ow—!" He winced, sitting up in a panic. His hands grasped yours in desperation. "Wait, don’t do anything drastic! I didn't mean—"

"It's too late now..." You freed your hands from his grip with a slow, deliberate motion.

He stilled.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"OW! Cutie, have mercy—!" Rafayel hissed, thrashing slightly beneath you.

You straddled him with a deadly smirk, tweezers in hand, plucking his body hair with ruthless precision. A sharp yank—his armpit. Another—his stomach. Then his leg. He flinched every time, eyes wild with regret.

"This is cruel!" he whined. "This is inhumane!"

"You did this to yourself." You gave him a faux-sympathetic smile, reaching for his arm next.

Another pluck. Another wince.

Rafayel groaned, flopping back dramatically. "Never again…" he muttered.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear with a wicked grin.

"That's what they all say."

Sylus

You sat comfortably on Sylus’s lap, his arms wrapped around you with a vice-like grip, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Cuddling like this was nothing new—Sylus lived for moments like these—but tonight, there was a different edge to it. A certain... desperation.

His fingers pressed into your back as if to mold you against him, his body tensed yet unwilling to let go.

“What’s got you squeezing me so tight, Sy?” you teased, dragging your fingers along his spine, relishing the way he shivered under your touch.

“Perhaps I just like having you close.” His voice was smooth—too smooth. Normally, the words would’ve made you melt, but there was something in his tone. A certain something you knew all too well.

You stilled. “...Did you do it again?”

The moment the words left your lips, his hold on you tightened.

“…Have I mentioned how absolutely stunning you look today?” He cooed, his lips brushing your skin. Classic. His go-to distraction tactic.

“Nice try,” you deadpanned. “Sylus. Did you, or did you not?”

He sighed, dramatically, like he was the victim here. “He was getting too touchy.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Sylus, you’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack!”

The guy—as in your coworker. The one Sylus had sworn up and down was too friendly with you. The one he had, on multiple occasions, subtly and not-so-subtly terrified to the brink of quitting.

“You don’t need that job,” he muttered, pressing his lips against your shoulder as if that would erase his sins.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what that means.”

He went silent.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"Must I really do this?” Sylus sighed, standing stiffly in front of your workplace like he was being sent to the gallows.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “You will apologize. Or no cuddles and kisses for a week.”

At that, his eye twitched. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him, watching as his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles before he returned to his signature look of disgusted annoyance.

Just then, the door to the building swung open, and there he was—your coworker. Upon spotting you, he smiled… but then his gaze shifted.

And the second he laid eyes on Sylus?

He yelped and bolted in the opposite direction.

You blinked. “Did he just—”

You turned to Sylus. He was smirking. Smug. As. Hell.

“How am I supposed to ‘apologize’ now, sweetie?” he mused, feigning innocence, though the satisfied glint in his eyes betrayed him.

What a smug, infuriating bastard.

Caleb

Caleb was glued to you—more than usual. His arms wrapped around your waist like a lifeline, his face buried in your shoulder as he let out a deep, dramatic sigh. You barely moved an inch before he was pulling you back in, holding you tighter.

Now, Caleb was always affectionate, but this? This was next-level.

“…Okay, what did you do?” you asked suspiciously, stopping your fingers from running through his hair.

He stiffened.

“What?” He forced out a laugh, lifting his head to look at you with far too much innocence. “Can’t a guy just be madly in love with his gorgeous partner?”

You squinted.

“Caleb.”

“…Yes, my love?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

He hesitated. His eyes darted to the side. Then—a guilty smile.

Your stomach dropped.

“I may have tripped and somehow landed on your bed, and somehow the diary was open, and somehow my eyes just happened to read the page about how much you love my arms—”

“CALEB.” You pushed him away (he immediately latched back on). “You read my diary?!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be mad!” He tightened his hold, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you even more now! You think I’m devastatingly handsome, and I quote—”

You groaned. “Caleb, you absolute menace—!”

“You wrote a whole paragraph about my voice, pipsqueak” He grinned, shameless. “I didn’t even know you paid attention to—”

“You’re dead to me.”

"Noooo!" He practically climbed into your lap, pulling your arms around him like you had to hold him. “You can’t be mad at me! I am your devastatingly handsome boyfriend, after all—”

"You know what this means." You cut him off, smirking.

"You’re my slave for a whole week."

Caleb gaped at you. “That’s cruel.”

"You deserve it."

"But—"

"You will be fetching me snacks, running my baths, giving me foot rubs, carrying my bag—"

“This is inhumane.”

"Oh, I’m not done." You grinned wickedly. "You will also cook me breakfast every morning, write me a love letter every night, carry me whenever I want, and—oh, this is my favorite part—you will officially be my personal hype man. If I so much as walk into a room, you will dramatically announce my presence and remind everyone that I’m the most beautiful person alive."

Caleb’s jaw dropped.

"You’re insane."

"You read my diary."

"...Fair."

"Oh, and one more thing," you added. "You're now on kiss restriction for three days."

His entire world shattered. "WHAT?!"

"That's right." You tapped his nose condescendingly. "No kisses. No cuddles unless I initiate them. No sweet-talking your way out of this, Mr. Snoops-Through-My-Diary."

He groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "I regret everything."

"You should." You smirked, patting his cheek.

But deep down, you knew Caleb was about to be the most over-the-top servant in history. And honestly? You were so ready for it.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

you knock me out, i fall apart

being a new dad is the scariest thing in the world for rafe, until his baby girl smiles at him for the first time...

When his daughter was born, she cried so loud that Rafe thought something must be wrong. But then he saw your face, full of relief and joy as they placed your baby girl on your chest.

“She’s a fighter, huh?” The nurse asked with a chuckle.

“Just like her dad,” you said, leaning back onto the pillows and gazing up at Rafe with so much affection and relief in your eyes he thought he might be dreaming. He hoped you didn’t see the blood drain from his own face.

The baby’s little fists clenched as she kept crying out, letting the world know she was here and she was not going to be quiet about it.

“Wh-what’s wrong with her?” Rafe looked at the doctor with a panic stricken face. “Is she hurt?”

The doctor didn’t seem worried, which irritated Rafe. Could he not hear her? She was so tiny and helpless, why did no one else seem worried?

“It’s a good thing, healthy lungs,” the doctor told him casually. “Got a name?”

“Josephine Cameron,” you answered without a second thought. 

You’d picked the first name only a few weeks after discovering you were pregnant, but you and Rafe had never talked about her last name. He assumed you didn’t want to offend him by saying it’d be better if your baby girl didn’t have the weight of his name strapped to her. Her life would be hard enough with a fuck up like him for a father.

“You want her name to be Cameron?” Rafe asked in surprise, his face still ashen while yours was glowing with sweat and color and new mom joy.

“Of course,” you said simply, eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Mine will be too soon.”

He was stunned, but he tried not to show it, hoping everyone in the room would attribute his teary eyes to the exhaustion of your twenty-four hour labor. He’d been awake and at your side for every single second.

For just a moment, all was quiet. Then, Josie’s face scrunched with a fury he’d only ever seen in the mirror. Her scream built like a wave, crashing over the room when she finally wailed with all the force of her tiny lungs. Rafe’s heart shattered at the sound. All he wanted in the world was to help her, to take away her pain, and he hated that he had no idea how to.

He didn’t understand how you could be so calm while something was clearly wrong with the baby. But you just rubbed her back, Josie settling under your gentle touch and nuzzling into the soft skin of your bare chest. Looking down at the two of you, he’d never been more in love, or more sure that he wasn’t cut out for this. Not like you were.

“Can you take her?” You requested through a yawn.

“I-I can’t…I don’t know how.”

You smiled at him, your heavy eyelids struggling to stay open. 

“Just cradle her head, like this.”

You demonstrated for him before passing the little bundle in your arms over to him. 

His hands were shaking, shoulders tense. He held her away from his chest, eyes wide with panic.

“What if I drop her?”

Beneath his words, his truest fear - what if I’m too much, and it hurts her?

But you were already slipping into well-earned sleep.

“You won’t, baby,” you said dreamily.

Rafe wasn’t so sure. He met Josie’s eyes, her little blue irises identical to his own as she blinked up at him. She was only a few minutes old, but he thought he saw something knowing in her gaze, her face reading something like, this guy? Seriously?

He had the strange urge to apologize to her: yeah so sorry, this was all a big misunderstanding. I’ll go get your real dad now.

But he couldn’t, because he was her real dad, no substitutes would be coming to rescue her from that fact. 

Josie’s blanket came unswaddled as Rafe continued to struggle to hold her properly. You couldn’t fight off the sleep that took over, so a nurse rushed to his side and mercifully pulled Josie from his arms to place her in the bassinet. He was grateful, but felt strongly like he’d just failed his first fatherhood test.

Just like her dad, you’d said.

For Josie’s sake, he sure hoped not.

------❤︎------

Rafe had committed to getting clean the second he saw that little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. And he’d kept his promise. His body took a long time to adjust, but now he was healthier than ever. He woke up with you for every feeding, hair messy and eyes half closed as he went to the kitchen to get you water and a midnight snack.

“You can go back to sleep, love,” you’d assure him sweetly.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” He’d say.

You stopped trying to convince him to go back to sleep, grateful for his partnership in the exhausting early hours.

One night, only a few days after you’d gotten home from the hospital, you finished feeding Josie and set her on the boppy laid on your mattress. She wriggled and stretched, drowsy in a milk haze. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told Rafe, standing to head into the shower.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He tried not to let you hear his nerves. He hadn’t spent much time alone with the baby since carrying her in from the car a few days ago. He was still so sure he’d break her if given the chance.

Josie settled for a minute, he thought she’d gone back to sleep. Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, her little eyes blinked open, staring unfocused at the ceiling above her. Her vision hadn’t developed yet, but he could tell she sensed her mother’s absence already. Her face scrunched in the unsettled way Rafe was quickly learning led to her cries.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, shhh.” Rafe pulled the boppy closer to him, letting it sit between his legs as he bent over the baby, his bare shoulders casting a shadow across her tiny body in the dim lamplight.

“She’ll be right back,” he tried to sound assuring, but his eyes flicked nervously to the cracked open bathroom door, hoping you’d change your mind about a shower and come back to them.

He looked down at his daughter and took a deep breath, reaching tentatively to place a hand on her little belly. Since she was born, you’d been trying to determine who she looked more like - you or Rafe. But now, gazing down at her, it was strikingly clear how much she looked like a Cameron. 

Her chubby little cheeks concave in tiny dimples, just like her dad’s. Her bright eyes are deep blue, just like her dad’s. Her little forehead scrunches and her little lips purse when she’s upset, just like her dad’s. 

The sudden realization that she looked so much like him warmed Rafe from the inside out, something completely new blooming in his chest. She was his. His baby girl. His eyes grew damp as she squirmed and squawked, looking around the room like she was still trying to find you. He gently settled the tips of his calloused forefingers in the dips in her soft cheeks, unable to resist a gentle squish.

“Hi baby,” he said lovingly.

The deep, soft sound of his voice caught her attention, her eyes locking on him. And then she smiled.

Rafe’s heart leapt in his chest, he looked up, considering calling out for you to come see, but he was speechless. He was tempted to take a picture, but no image could capture how perfect this moment was.

“Hi Jojo,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Are you smiling at dada? You’re smiling at dada! My girl!” 

The parenting books stacked on his bedside table had taught him most babies don’t smile until they’re six weeks old, but the longer he looked at her in amazement, the wider she smiled at him. 

“You’re better than most babies, huh?” He cooed. “Yeah. ‘Cause you’re my smart girl. You’re dada’s girl.”

Without even thinking about it, he scooped her into his arms. She was already nestled against his chest, skin to skin, before it hit him how natural the movement had been. He was finally holding her the way she needed him to. She scrunched up her little body, curled on his chest in perfect peace.

Rafe dropped a featherlight kiss to the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.

“My girl.”

------❤︎------

a/n: wait I loved writing this sm. I might do some more dada rafe and baby jojo fluff soon <3

divider credit to @qqmariztwsse !

[merakidoll]

plug!eren who you had been ignoring because god he was just a walking sin. but eren knew any and everything, just how he knew you would be at the club tonight so he had to make an appearance looking sexier than ever. he was waiting for you to feel his hard glare and run to the bathroom just so he can take his time walking down there and slipping in locking the door behind him. “this what we on mama?” is what he always said to you, because you running was just a reoccurring thing. “hm?” you said walking towards him, your hands wrapped around his neck loving his weed and expensive cologne smell, that had your pussy contracting in your underwear.

while you were a good girl, law major at that - you had a deep bad temptation for the man in the black jeans and shiny jewelry. “take’em deeper make me feel yo apology” pushing his balls deeper into your mouth you gargled around them, spit dripping down you chin while his cock bobed on your face. “mmh” eren loved you on your knees, he wouldn’t dare let your pretty skin touch the nasty floor thought so his expensive jacket was beneath you collect what you dropped. you moved his big balls out of your mouth using both hands to jerk him off while pouting up at him. “m’sorry rennie” you licked around his pink tip, before taking the whole head into your mouth sucking on it like a lollipop causing his knees to buckle

“f-fuck ma- i forgivehm” eren’s eyes closed, as you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth. no gag reflex in sight, once you had half of him in your mouth, you moved his hips so he can began to fuck your throat. “t-this the shit that got me gone” he mumble, grabbing the back of you head and going deeper. your eyes started to water but you loved everything about this, your hips rotating against noting craving something to stop the thumping of your clit.

“you gone be my girl?” his low red eyes glazed over you, his thumb whipping a lone tear while he still fucked your throat the he knew would be hurting by the morning. “huh baby? you gone be my girl” stilling his hips eren allowed you to nod, smirking and letting your see the silver grills in his mouth. “good answer, it was gone be yes anyway” he left you with that before starting back to fuck you mouth. your hand fondled with his balls, teeth skimming at his skin, while your throat contracted around his tip.

eren’s toes poped hard in his jordan’s from pressing down too hard when he started to stuff your mouth. he stayed inside of your wet hole until his cock was empty, and dick limp. but that didn’t last long once he removed himself, thinking of all the ways he about to fuck his now girlfriend!

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity

Sylus x Non!Mc

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader (this is it for now)

note: thank you for the love in the previous chapter 🥹

Link to Part 1

It's been a month or two since the last time you've been with Sylus. It saddens you that the time you get to spend together is cut short, only seeing each other at night when he pleases to have dinner or greet you goodnight.

You asked Luke and Kieran about what's happening, but they don't know either. They just know it has something to do with Miss Hunter, about Aether Core, about something that you have very little knowledge about. You mentally noted to search about it later.

“He is very grumpy lately,” Luke said, "He was glaring at us like he wants to skin us alive whenever me and my twin are being a little louder than normal.”

"The only one safe from his anger is Miss Hunter,” Kieran added. "I don't appreciate that Boss is playing favorites in our team.”

You tried not to let out a shaky breath. Luke noticed and he had to elbow Kieran to make him shut up.

"Sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I'll try and catch Sylus one of these days. I'll talk to him.”

The twins scurry away while arguing. They think they offended you and they are passing on the blame with each other.

On normal days, it's not easy to get you offended but lately, every little thing just makes you … sensitive.

Maybe it started when you wanted that crow brooch that is neatly placed on Sylus's table …

When you asked him for it he just said, “It's for Miss Hunter,"

He took it from your hand. Albeit gently, it still weighed heavy in your heart.

You know you don't always get your way but with the little seeds of jealousy slowly growing in your heart, it's easy to feel hurt and feel neglected.

You just wanted that damn brooch and you know that he can buy another piece. Or even make you a custom-made one, one that is more inclined on your taste.

You took a deep breath.

Sylus is stressed. You know that and it's not right to add more to his burden. It's just a brooch after all.

“I-I didn't know, but when you have the time to grab one, remember me, okay?” you said.

"Next time, sweetie.” He replied and quickly went back to reading reports.

You don't know if he took your words seriously, but you have enough faith in him to trust that he did.

Or maybe the disappointment started when you wanted to go to Linkon.

There's a newly opened arcade shop that you're really itching to go.

Normally, Sylus would agree and watch you play. He's not the best when it comes to the claw machine, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when he rejected your offer. Not only that, the answer that followed chipped away at your heart little by little.

“Me and Miss Hunter already went there. It's not as fun as the other ones you've tried. You're just gonna waste your time there. Not even new plushies,” he even had the audacity to roll his eyes at that.

It seemed like he didn't think before speaking or he didn't see anything wrong with what he said.

Truthfully, there is none. The logical part of you knows he didn't say anything wrong. But for fuck's sake! Really telling your girlfriend that you went to the arcade with another woman? That's new. That's not something she expected of Sylus.

“You went with her?" you asked. You're anticipating his answer. Praying it's something logical. Something acceptable.

Please tell me it has something to do with those missions.

He looked at you, trying to see what's in your mind but you didn't show anything. Blocking any negative emotions from seeping on the cracks of your face. You tried to look as curious and as genuine as you can be.

Thankfully, he believed that.

“Yes. We went there after getting some intel around the area. She dragged me inside and she played until her heart's content. I remembered she went home with that crow plushie with a bib. She looked happy,"

You almost wanted to scoff at his face. You wanted that plushe as well, he seemed to forget about that. If it's only about the plushie maybe you can push down these negative feelings but here he is looking so endeared while saying that. As if he's not talking to his girlfriend.

Patience. Patience.

“I see. Good for her.” you said. "I also want that crow stuffed toy. Good thing to know they have them."

You tried giving him a hint. It's not like you to make anyone guess what's on your mind.

But then there's silence. And a beep on his phone. He tore his gaze away from you and your statement long forgotten.

At that point, you're holding yourself together trying not to scream and yell at him.

Maybe that's where it started. Maybe it's when you know that the distractions were not just caused by the missions but by Miss Hunter herself.

==

You sighed. It's evening and Sylus is still nowhere to be found. You texted him but you're met with silence. You wanted to call, but you hesitated. It feels like you don't have the right to do it.

Worry starts gnawing at you when Luke and Kieran hurriedly go out. They didn't even have the chance to say a proper goodbye.

Minutes kept ticking, and you heard it.

Explosions.

Your heart stopped and you wanted to run to where it was because something tells you that Sylus is there. He's in danger.

But before you can even step out of the base, Sylus's men stopped you.

“Boss’s orders to not let the Madame go out when the mission is in full swing. Please wait for him here."

You wanted to pull your hair out. You're trembling with worry but anywhere you go, someone will stop you. You can't even sneak out because that will surely trigger the alarms.

With a heavy heart you slumped on the couch.

“Fucking hell, Sylus what is happening when are you coming home!” you muttered to yourself.

You kept pacing and pacing every second seemed to last a lifetime.

Until the door opened.

And there he was, shirt torn, hair deshiveled and a few scratches on his body.

"Thank God you're alive!” you exclaimed and caught his heavy body before he lost consciousness.

"Sylus? Sylus!” you tried shaking him, but he won't wake up.

You settled him on the couch and grabbed the nearest first aid kit you can reach. Sylus might have the fastest regeneration in the world but it won't ease your worries about the small cuts that still remains on his body.

You tried suppressing your tears seeing him like this but you just can't. As you press the cotton on his cuts, you can't help but open your mouth and nag him about being careless.

“I know you think that this body is invincible, but please be careful! You need to come home to me. You have to come home to me. No matter how I'm annoyed at you right now, you don't have the rights to make me worry like this.”

“What's so important in that mission that you exhaust yourself like this? What's so important about Miss Hunter that you're willing to do such great lengths?"

You know that he can't hear you, but still you talked to him until you calmed down and ask his men to help you settle him in bed after changing him. You called the physician to check him up for anything. You kept yourself busy to shrugg of the nerves but those questions still linger in your head.

Sylus is a strategist even though he looks smug and arrogant. He carefully plans everything and tries to move in quiet only letting the results speak for themselves.

But this? This is not the usual.

Explosions everywhere and declaring a full on war with his enemies is not his style. You know that there's nothing really beneficial for him in this deal with Miss Hunter.

You managed to understand a bit about what their goals are. Getting that Aether core for Miss Hunter.

Tough mission, yes. But Sylus won't grab it if he won't benefit from it. And that's what you're left puzzled with. Sylus is a businessman, everything should be give and take.

So? What's in it for him?

==

You didn't expect the answer to voluntarily come to you. You went to his study to look for something or anything that you can help him with now that he's still unconscious when you stumbled upon a journal.

You thought it was not Sylus's. You never see him as someone who will write down his thoughts but you were dead wrong.

You opened it expecting it to be a list of things related to Onychinus, but you were greeted with phrases, sentences and some sketches about Miss Hunter.

You read each of them, it was a jumble of words. You almost thought it was a fairytale.

Past lives.

Dragon and Sorceress.

Kindred Spirits.

Energy Linkage.

Sweet Evil Trap.

All of it is too much. Too much for your poor little heart to take. And from what you understood, Miss Hunter is from his past. Someone who has a part of his soul.

Someone he waits for.

And the bitter realization although still unfounded, you concluded that maybe she's someone he still loves.

But what about you? What's your place in the grand scheme of things?

“I’m keeping you around because you’re still useful.”

Those lines ring in your ears. Sylus always say that to everyone but you. You thought that maybe you are an exception. That you're not someone disposable to him because you matter.

And as you soak up all the information that you knew, you started to doubt yourself as well.

note: aaackkk thank u for reading lemme know your thoughts! Part 3 soonest!

[moonstruckme]

omgomg can i request wolfstar or any of the marauders (literally so excited j leave it up to u) with a reader who faints when she sees blood? I have severe blood phobia and i hate feeling lightheaded but it's kinda funny if u think about it... have a great day ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: blood, fainting, Sirius on a power trip (everyone's worst nightmare I think)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 968 words

You watch Remus look down on the onion with concentrated, dry eyes. “I don’t know how you can do that,” you say, mystified.

“He’s a freak of nature,” Sirius says. 

“Even when I cut along the lines, like you’re supposed to…” You brush a knuckle underneath your lashes, catching the residual wetness from when you’d attempted what Remus is doing so easily. “Maybe you are a freak of nature.” 

Remus is more than a little smug. “Maybe my eyes are just better than yours.” 

“No, that can’t be it…” 

“Cut your tomatoes, love,” he teases. “Those won’t hurt you.” 

You scoff, grabbing the serrated knife from the knife block. In the second your back is turned, you hear Remus’ knife hit the cutting board funny. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Bollocks.” 

“Ha!” Sirius cries triumphantly, though he moves closer to ensure Remus is okay. “Who’s the pro onion chopper now? What’d you do to yourself, let me see.” 

Remus rolls his eyes but gives his hand over to Sirius’ care. Your boyfriend coos, pulling him closer to the sink and turning on the tap. 

You hear more than see yourself stumble, your feet clumsy on the tile floor. Remus’ gaze snaps to you. You feel suddenly very warm. 

Remus says something, you think, but it’s lost to the rushing in your ears. Blood drips from his hand into the sink. You watch it turn pink as it swirls into the drain.

You stumble again. 

---

“What did you think shouting at her was going to do?” 

“I don’t know!” There’s a hand on your cheek, tapping insistently. “This is your fault anyway, get a plaster on that. Or just wrap it up for now, we’ll deal with it after.”  

“Your concern is touching.” 

A sigh. “I’ll kiss it better in a minute, darling, but I’m somewhat occupied right now.” More tapping. “Hey, open your eyes, baby. Come on, I can see you twitching.” 

“Did she hit her head?” 

“I don’t think so. Just give her a second, yeah?” 

With effort, you lift your weighted eyelids. Sirius stops tapping. His thumb strokes down your cheek instead. 

“Hey.” He smiles, concern lingering at the corners. “In the future, I think we’d all appreciate a bit of warning before you drop like a bag of rocks. Okay?” 

Your voice comes out quiet and wispy. “I’ll try.” 

Sirius’ grin widens. “Attagirl.” 

“I think you’re supposed to lift her legs,” Remus frets from somewhere you can’t see him. You try, but Sirius puts his hand under your chin, tilting your head back up. 

“You can lift them once you’re cleaned up,” he says lightly. “Eyes on me, sweetness. Rem needs to stop bleeding before you two can resume gazing lovingly at each other, I’m afraid.” 

“Are you okay?” you ask the ceiling. 

“Fine, love. It’s just a cut.” 

Your voice wavers. “It looked like it was bleeding a lot.” 

“It was, but it’s shallow,” Sirius reassures you. He gives you an easy smile, thumb stroking a short line from the corner of your mouth to your chin. “You know our Moony, he loves to make a spectacle of himself.” 

You manage a little smile. “Sounds like him.” 

Remus makes a sound like a laugh that’s trying to be a sigh. Your ankles lift up off the floor, and Sirius finally allows you to look down, where you find your boyfriend with a paper towel wrapped around his hand. 

“Why is it that even when I’m hurt, you’re both still ganging up on me?” he asks. “Does your head feel alright?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. You feel yourself frown as you look at his hand. Hoping you won’t see more blood, fearing you will, worry keeping your gaze trapped either way. “Are you hurt?” 

Remus visibly softens. “No. I’m fine, sweetheart. How do you feel?” 

“I’m okay, really. I think it just surprised me.” 

“Do you realize how full my hands are with the two of you?” Sirius asks, fondness obvious in his agitated tone. “You fainting, you bleeding all over the place—I mean, Christ, how’s a man to make supper?” 

You let your eyes shut for a moment. Truthfully, you still feel a bit odd. You know it’ll pass soon. “I’ll cut the onions next time,” you say. 

“That might be best,” he says. “I hate to do it to you, sweetness, but lesser of two evils and all that.” 

“I am still perfectly capable—” Remus tries to say, but Sirius cuts him off. 

“Hush, you. Go wait in the bathroom, I’ll come take care of you in a minute.” 

Remus does not go to the bathroom. He stages his rebellion silently, rolling his eyes as he stays put. 

“Do you really feel alright?” Sirius asks you. 

You hum. “Yeah. I mean, I’m…” You nod your head from side to side. “You know.” 

His eyebrows raise amusedly. Remus chuffs out a laugh. “Course I do, babe. I know exactly what you mean. Care to elaborate for Remus, though?” 

“I’m okay.” 

Sirius waits a moment for you to say more. When you don’t, he nods, taking this in stride. “Do you think if I help, you can get over to the couch to lie there for a while? Just until I finish tending to our wounded soldier over here.” 

“It’s just a scratch,” Remus insists, exasperated, but he lowers your feet back to the ground so Sirius can help you up. “I don’t need help with it, really, it—oh, bollocks.” 

Sirius shields your eyes with his hand before you can see what the fuss is about. “Get another towel and go wait in the bathroom,” he tells Remus firmly, helping you stand. He half drags you towards the couch as you hear Remus’ cursing move down the hall. “God, always the dramatics with the two of you. Honestly.” 

[reignpage]

Office fun with your husband/coworker, Nanami Kento ;)

“Kento, w-we shouldn’t.”

With your pencil skirt bundled up at your waist, he has the perfect opportunity to get a grip of your sheer tights and tug until they riiiiiiiip! Your husband will tell you he does that every time because he’s impatient and just needs to feel your warm and sopping wet pussy but the truth is, he just loves to make you gasp at his display of strength. 

Shushing you, he presses his nose to your already soaked panties and takes a deep inhale. “Mmm, you always smell so good, sweetheart.”

“Kento! Lunch is ending s-soon, we don’t have time,” you warn. 

His gruff laugh is your only response. “But I’m having my lunch now, honey.”

Your husband can be so mischievous when he wants to be. But there’s nothing you can do about it, especially when he’s pushing your panties to the side and lapping up your juices. The noises he makes as he sucks and slurps are obscene; they make your head spin. Sat on his desk, you struggle to find anywhere to grip for purchase when his long, expert fingers shoooooove their way in, filling you so good you swear you can cum already. 

Massaging your pleats, he groans at the way your gooey walls pulse around him, welcoming him back in. 

“I knew my wife needed me. Could sense it all the way here,” he mutters to himself. 

The cold metal on his finger meets your clit. Your back arches. Oh God. He’s rubbing his name with his ring. K E N T O….and something else… you can’t quite make it out. Glancing down, you see his half-lidded eyes already on yours, watching your heaving chest bounce and shiver. 

“Ah! K-ken! Right there!”

Tie loose and shirt unbuttoned at the collar, he’s gasping for breath too, desperate to not have to resurface unless he has to. “I can tell you’re -ha- close, darling. You always clamp d-down on me like you don’t —yes, that’s it sweetheart ride my fingers— like y-you don’t want me to go when you’re about to cum. It always drives me positively mad.”

Those fingers curl inside, rubbing again and again against that smooth spot inside you that makes your stomach cave in and your legs shake. His glasses are fogging up and, with a growl of frustration, he rips it off and reaches up to place it on your nose. Your vision blurs. 

“Take care of those for me, won’t you, honey? Darn things are getting in the way of me spoiling my beautiful girl.”

“Y-yes, Ken.”

Humming, he rewards you with a looooong suuuuuckk of your clit and your hands flies to his hair, mussing it up, threatening to make him bald. He doesn’t seem to mind because his fingers dig deeper inside, kissing your cervix as he refamiliarises himself with your sensitive spot. 

Then, with the tip of his tongue, instead of his wedding ring, he continues writing on your clit while his spare hand keeps your hips steady, branding a punishing grip every time you writhe to get away; your husband hates when you get in the way of his daily worshipping.

K

E

N T 

O

…..

“Fuck! What are —nghnnn!— you writing?”

“You can’t tell, sweetheart? You’re hurting your poor —mmm— husband’s feelings. God, you’re so beautiful sweet —uh no ha— d-darling.”

So lost in his own pleasure, he’s getting his terms of endearment mixed up and you know he’s growing more desperate to make you cum in record time. At any moment now, someone could walk in, could catch him loving up on his wife and though he wouldn’t mind, he knows you’d be very upset and he just can’t have that, can he?

When your eyes meet his again, you know from the possessive glint that heats your skin up that he’s been writing KENTO’S over and over again, muttering it into your quivering hole like it could reach your very soul and mark you everywhere. 

“Only mine, sweetheart. All mine. Even when we have our precious baby. These,” he pinches a nipple through your tight white shirt, almost see-through from your perspiration, “will still be mine. I’ll just share, no? Because I’m such a good papa, aren’t I?”

You nod, promising whatever he wants. 

“Good. Now, cum on my fingers and then, we’ll make love against the door, is that alright, my love? We’ll practice keeping quiet too. You’ll get better, I’m sure. You’ve always been such a good girl. My good girl.”

[cherie-doll]

dude omg think about it, cod men and cute agression with their s/o ALSIDJKSDGH

ASDKJFK (i did not proofread this, not like i ever do but, anyways)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

🝮 Price likes to surprise you by grabbing your wrist as you walk by his spot on the couch, pull you onto his lap and hold you whilst he nuzzles into your neck. It makes you squirm and laugh as you feel patches of his beard tickle your skin. Your moving around only causes him to grip your hand tighter, your laughter contagious as he smiles warmly at you, withholding his own laughter. He rarely does anything else though.

🝮 Ghost is really careful and hesitant at first, what if you're not okay with it? But when you start showing him how to show physical affection, he becomes more comfortable doing it. There won't be any indicators on his part when he's about to do it, he'll still for a moment, his fists tightening and then grabbing you suddenly, harshly almost. You feel him relax against you once he has his big, bulky, strong arms around you tight. He just really likes snatching you out of nowhere, holding you super tight against him until he lets a soft breath out. Kind of like holding a kitten close to you; it's relaxing once you feel its soft fur and forget about your problems for the day.

🝮 Soap aggressively sniffs you. Like, randomly coming up to you when you're doing mundane things such as reading, washing the dishes or just in bed scrolling on your phone. He won't just sniff in one place, no, he'll do it all over; your neck, shoulders, arms, chest, anywhere. And it makes you really confused as to why he does it when you haven't put on perfume yet so there must not be any scent to smell, right? No, somehow he can smell your "natural" scent. Whatever that means.

🝮 Gaz will run at you, tackle you, and try to hold you down while he attacks you with kisses. Quick smooches all over your face, neck, collarbone and keeps going lower and lower until you have to stop him before you turn into a puddle on the spot. Gosh, sometimes that man is too much, you swear he'll be the death of you someday. Even in a short amount of time, he can get in plenty of kisses. Ofc, you do it back at him when you catch him off guard, and it has sort of turned into a game you both play at home.

🝮 Roach will become clingy, so so clingy, so much so that he wraps all four of his limps around yours, tight like an octopus and won't let go. He's grinding his teeth because he wishes to do more but is holding back. Little noises can be heard from him as he itches to apply more pressure until he can merge into you, wishing to be closer, as if it were possible. He can't find what to do and you're just there, unable to get up from the couch. You wish to get up, to make it to the bed to sleep but he just won't let you get up. Trying to muster all your strength, you attempt to push his body off of yours but it's impossible. You sigh in defeat at having to sleep on the couch because who knows what got into your boyfriend, but you're kinda enjoying it.

🝮 Alejandro leaves bite marks. Everywhere. Will be eating next to you in the kitchen, you reach over for the salt or a napkin and next thing you know this man goes in for a bite because your arm was right there, in front of him. At this point, you're so unfazed that it barely registers anymore, it doesn't hurt because he doesn't bite down hard, he makes sure to never actually hurts you. The bite marks are barely there, unless you're going out right away you have no reason to worry over covering them. Sometimes you'll forget you even have a bite mark and someone will go "Violent toddler?" "No, loving husband".

🝮 Rudy tends to avoid trying to act upon impulsive, violet urges when his senses are overwhelmed. Will silently suffer because he doesn't want you complaining that he messed up your hair or makeup when he just wants to press kisses all over your face or bite you. So he does it but gently? Like he goes in for it but last minute he softens and you feel a set of teeth slowly sinking into your shoulder and you attempt to turn only to see Rodolfo and his soft eyes meetings yours, bashfully as if regretting it. Your reaction is worth it though, you simply laugh and tell him you don't mind since you do it all the time to him.

🝮 Phillip gets cuteness aggression even if you're not there. Weird, huh? He looks back on pictures of you on his phone, pictures that are horrid to you but endearing to him. Then he'll want to hold you so he's off to search for you, tracks you down within a minute and will pull you away from whatever you are doing to wrap his arms tightly around you and swing you around without a single word beforehand, might not even have greeted you if he had just returned home. Then, he'll set you down and lower his face to your height so you may kiss him, but if you hesitant for more than a second he'll sigh and instead kiss you all over.

🝮 Makarov gets the urge to bother you when you're mad because according to him "you look cute when you're mad". You may think he's belittling you, but he only does it if what you're upset over is considered "silly" by him. If you're seriously mad at him he will do anything to please you, seriously. But when it's over small things, he thinks it's the best time to be all up on you, not leaving you alone despite you being peeved and trying to push him away. Will poke your cheeks when they're puffed from you huffing in annoyance until he can't hold back from grabbing your face to forcefully meet his eyes. Will smush your face until you're making a pufferfish face.

🝮 Keegan will randomly just come at you, like just staring at you quiet when you're like "??" and in a swift manner will get up. It scares the living daylights out of you how fast he moves but you barely have time to react before he's bringing you down with him, tackling you onto the floor so you can't swat at him while he pinches your cheeks until they turn red. You whine and swat at him because it hurts but he just laughs meanly leaving a little kiss on top of your nose and walking away. You hate that you love that bastard.

🝮 König is the one who you dote on with climbing him and pressing a crap ton of kisses on his cheeks because you can't control yourself, but he's the tall one, he should be the one having a hard time not using his strength to pick you up and just press his face against your neck. One thing about König is that he goes absolutely feral when he can smell your scent very strongly. No, not when you're wearing perfume, he thinks the fabricated smell messes with your natural scent, he likes how you smell right when you wake up. The scent that lingers makes him want to bury his nose into your shirt or hair and smell that comforting scent.

🝮 Horangi will bite. That's what he's always so tempted to do. Will gently pinch your cheeks like two marshmallows, you laugh softly and he smiles at how cute you look, until he leans in and bites your cheek. Doesn't bite hard, just softly, enough to leave a little mark on your cheeks that goes away after a while. As for biting in other places... let's just say he's not so gentle there. Uses his height and strength to his advantage, can get pretty rough when "attacking" you, but that's just because he's overwhelmed and can barely handle it.

🝮 Nikto will have periods of time where you're both doing your own thing and then you feel the air change, the tv stopped playing. You look up to see this man staring at you and you can't tell what emotions are flickering behind those eyes by simply peering at him. It scares you at times honestly, until he grabs both sides of your face and moves your head slightly from one side to the other, like a bear and its massive paws toying with you. Leans in closer until your noses are touching and rubs aggressively. He does it until your face scrunches up and he smirks, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he lets go and you think that's it until he does it again.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi🤍 could you write something about Charles toddler having a crush on one of the drivers ( one of your choice) and then she found out that the driver is taken?? A cute one where Charles " help" her go through her first heartbreak.

I love your writing ☁️

Little Heartbreak

The Ferrari garage was buzzing with activity, but Charles had only one priority—his little girl. Yn sat on the counter beside his engineers, swinging her legs back and forth, her tiny Ferrari shirt slightly oversized but still adorable. She had her favorite stuffed bunny clutched in one hand and a bright smile on her face.

“Papa, can we go see Carlos?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head up at him.

Charles chuckled, running a gentle hand through her soft curls. “You really like visiting him, don’t you, mon amour?”

Yn nodded enthusiastically. “He’s so nice to me! And he’s funny! And…” Her cheeks turned a little pink as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I just like him a lot.”

Charles bit back a smile. He knew his daughter had a small, innocent crush on Carlos. Every time they visited the Williams garage, Yn would light up, practically bouncing on her feet when Carlos greeted her. And Carlos, always kind and playful, made time for her no matter how busy he was.

“Alright, ma princesse,” Charles said, lifting her into his arms. “Let’s go say hi.”

Yn squealed excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her toward the Williams garage.

When they arrived, the Williams team was working, mechanics moving around as engineers talked in hushed tones. But Yn’s eyes were locked on him—Carlos, who stood near his car, laughing with a woman.

Charles immediately recognized her—Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend. She was beautiful, kind, and Charles had always thought they made a lovely couple.

Just as Charles was about to get Yn’s attention, Carlos leaned in, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss on Rebecca’s lips. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a gentle kiss filled with warmth and love.

Charles didn’t even have time to react before he felt Yn’s little body stiffen in his arms. Her tiny hands clutched his shirt tightly, and when he glanced down, he saw her big green eyes wide with surprise.

Carlos and Rebecca turned, spotting them. Carlos grinned. “Charles! Yn! Hey, come here.”

Rebecca smiled warmly. “Hi, Yn. Carlos has told me so much about you.”

Yn’s lower lip trembled, and Charles’ heart clenched. Oh, no.

Carlos took a step closer, but before he could say anything else, a tear slipped down Yn’s cheek. She sniffled, quickly rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to be brave. But Charles knew his little girl too well.

“Mon amour,” Charles murmured softly, adjusting his hold on her. “What’s wrong?”

Yn let out a tiny, shaky breath before whispering in his ear, “Il m'aime pas.” (He doesn't love me)

Charles felt his heart break in two. His little girl, experiencing her first innocent heartbreak, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Carlos’ eyes widened in realization. “Oh no, Yn, I—” He reached out, but Yn buried her face in Charles’ chest, tiny hands gripping his shirt tightly as soft sniffles escaped her.

Rebecca, noticing the situation, placed a gentle hand on Carlos’ arm, giving him a sympathetic look.

Charles gave them both an apologetic smile. “It’s okay, really. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Carlos still looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to make her sad…”

“I know,” Charles reassured him before rubbing Yn’s back soothingly. “I think we should go, mon cœur.”

Yn didn’t say anything, just nodded against his chest. Without another word, Charles turned and walked back toward the Ferrari garage, his daughter curled up in his arms, her little heart hurting for the first time.

When Charles stepped back into the Ferrari garage, Lewis was standing near the espresso machine, sipping his coffee. He took one look at Charles and Yn and immediately raised an eyebrow.

“What happened?”

Charles sighed, sitting down on the couch, keeping Yn close as she sniffled into his shoulder. “A little heartbreak,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her back.

Lewis frowned before setting his coffee down and crouching in front of them. “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Yn peeked up at him, her eyes watery. “C-Carlos has a girlfriend…”

Lewis blinked, glancing at Charles, who just nodded. Understanding dawned on his face, and he softened immediately.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lewis cooed, reaching out to gently wipe a tear from Yn’s cheek. “I know that must feel really sad.”

Yn sniffled, nodding. “I… I wanted to marry him.”

Lewis chuckled softly. “Oh, my love, that’s very sweet of you.” He pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back. “But I promise, one day, you’ll meet someone even more special, and they’ll love you just as much as you love them.”

Charles smiled at Lewis gratefully, watching as his daughter relaxed in the older driver’s arms.

Lewis pressed a kiss to the top of Yn’s head. “And you know what always makes me feel better?”

Yn wiped her nose. “What?”

Lewis grinned. “Flowers.”

Charles’ eyes lit up. That was it. He gently pulled Yn back into his arms. “Mon amour, will you stay with Tonton Lewlew for a few minutes?”

Yn nodded, resting her head on Lewis’ chest as the Mercedes driver rocked her gently.

Charles quickly slipped away, hurrying out of the garage.

Charles returned ten minutes later, a beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands. He smiled when he saw Lewis still cuddling Yn, quietly telling her a story.

“Mon cœur,” Charles called gently.

Yn looked up, her eyes still a little puffy but filled with curiosity when she saw what he was holding.

“These are for you,” Charles said, kneeling in front of her. “Because you are the most beautiful, sweetest girl in the whole world.”

Yn gasped softly, reaching out to touch the petals. “For me?”

Charles smiled warmly. “For you, ma princesse.”

Yn threw her tiny arms around her Papa’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Papa!”

Charles kissed the top of her head. “Always, mon amour.”

Lewis ruffled her hair. “See? Flowers always make things better.”

Yn giggled, holding her bouquet close. “They’re so pretty.”

Charles smiled, relieved to see his little girl happy again.

And just like that, Yn’s heartbreak was replaced with warmth, love, and the understanding that no matter what, her Papa would always be there to make things better.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[effervescentwolf]

“I would know, right?” Buck asks Hen where they’re tucked together on the couch, on a slow day so silence has fallen over them, soft and comfortable. Hen is halfway to a nap, if Buck had to guess, and Buck is not. He can’t stop thinking, is the thing. He can’t stop replaying a conversation in his head that feels too private to say out loud. It felt too private to hear, even if it was meant for him. “If I was in love with Eddie,” he says, tapping his foot, fiddling with his phone, unlocking and locking, over and over.

The silence stretches. He doesn’t dare glance over, scared of what he’ll see. He knows Hen won’t lie to him. He knows he can trust her, but he’s terrified. He’s more terrified than he’s ever been in his life.

“Buck,” is all she says, and he can hear it all in her voice.

“I would know,” Buck insists, leaning his head back on the couch, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. “I would know if I’m in love with him.” He can’t breathe, not really. “I would’ve known.”

He knows she notes the tense change. “Have you talked to him?” she says, and Buck is so grateful for her, so glad that someone’s listening to him, that someone knows him enough to know where this is coming from.

“Yes,” he says, and he thinks of saying the words out loud.

“What did he say?” Hen asks, and the bubble of two expands to three.

“He said he was in love with me,” Buck says, easily, looking at the ceiling. He still can’t bear to look over. “He said he’s been in love with me for a long time.”

And he said it like a goodbye. Like it was okay to say because he was saying goodbye. That’s the part Buck can’t say out loud. It wasn’t any different than before, the phone call. They skipped hellos like they always do, talked easy, back and forth, and Eddie hadn’t said it any different than he said anything else. Said, “I think I’m going to be here for a while,” and Buck’s heart constricted, and then in the same breath, “and I think I’m in love with you. Think I have been for a while,” and it felt more like Buck was going to die. Like everything changed in one moment, and then as if nothing had happened, Eddie added on, voice wavering just once, “I tried that new recipe you sent me.”

Buck hadn’t even been able to touch it. “Did you like it?” he asked, barely breathing. And, “A while?” about coming back.

“Chris said it tasted like home,” Eddie said, quiet and warm, and quieter, “Years, I think.” Buck hadn’t known which one he was talking about, past or future, and he had been too scared to ask.

“Don’t wait for me,” Eddie said, firm and a little wistful, and Buck hadn’t responded so they kept talking about little nothings until Buck watched his phone go dark and sat on his couch staring into nothing until he thought he could stand up without his knees giving out from under him.

“Oh, Buck,” Hen says, and Buck loves her but he can’t bear to hear it.

His chest hurts so badly he has to put his hand to it, has to press. “I would’ve known,” he repeats, because he would’ve. How could he have missed something like that when he had Eddie? How could he be too late? He can’t be. He isn’t.

Years, Eddie said. Eddie had maybe been in love with him for years, and Buck didn’t know, and he didn’t realize he—he didn’t know he—

“I would’ve known if Eddie loved me,” he says, voice cracking, and that’s the heart of it. He would’ve known because he knows Eddie, because he worked hard on knowing him, everything about him, and if he had known, he would’ve loved him too because that’s what Eddie would have deserved and because it would’ve been easy loving Eddie back and because he would’ve been in love with Eddie too, if Eddie were in love with him. “How could I not know?”

He’s crying, he realizes through shaky breaths, and Hen wraps her arms around him. Buck slumps into her, puts his damp eyes on her shoulder, admits, here in a safe place, “He told me not to wait.”

“Sounds like he’s looking out for you,” Hen says, and Buck knows she’s right, but it’s the way she says it, sadly, like she knows it’s a goodbye too.

“I love him, Hen,” Buck says then because he couldn’t tell Eddie that on the phone, because he couldn’t torture them both. “I loved him.”

He would’ve given him everything, if only he had known, and it feels like that’s what Hen responds to when she murmurs, “I know.”

[thewhumpcaretaker]

❤︎ Just wanted to say thank you to the whump community for...

Telling stories that make us feel deeply

Showing recovery as the messy, nonlinear process that it is

Offering hope for recovery at all

Acknowledging the cycles of pain, fear, anger, and hate

Loving bodies that aren't perfectly abled and personalities that aren't perfectly agreeable

Honoring vulnerability

Giving us imperfect victims and villains who are still worth something

Portraying the beauty to be found in supposed ugliness (very goth of you)

Admitting that not all ugly moments can be made beautiful. Sometimes they just hurt.

Sitting with the pain that all of us will feel at some point in our lives, so that we all feel less alone.

[potterhead0taku]

Interesting fact about my life no one asked for:

I’ve kinda harbored really one-sided romantic feelings for a friend of mine. She calls me love, sweetheart, baby, mi reina, darling. It does not help me at all, because it gives me the chance to reciprocate with similar terms for her.

We have discussed hypothetical marriage multiple times, both in cracked moods and serious “I think we could be happy together” moods.

It has been three years. They’re the one person I try to actually keep in the loop in my life and talk to constantly even if we don’t see each other every day or week or even month. But we know each other, we’ve both been there for the highs and lows.

We also agree that we shouldn’t be a couple. Or more, she agrees and I have been trying for a long time to get over my own feelings, because even if I wished she saw me in a romantic way, she’s still my friend and someone I deeply care about, regardless of if she returns the affection or not.

And she’s happy. She is in a relationship with someone else and is happy. And I care about her so much that I’m actually, honest to god happy for her, because I love her smile and her laugh and that carefree way of talking she has when she talks about her partner.

So yeah. It’s been three years. I think I’m in love with her. It does actually feel like white noise in the background most of the time, manageable. It does still hurt when she talks excitedly about her partner, but it’s a dull kind of ache now.

!!!!!!!

[m00nkeiki]

Remember in those romance books where the male main character growls "touch her and die." How would you feel about the monster trio (and Law) saying "touch her and die" but they growl while they say it?

H0i!!! Congrats on being my first anon!  This was really fun to think about! I will be honest, I barely dip my toes in romance books, buuut I do love me some protective blorbos who care for you lots!  I feel like in terms of playing the trope straight, it would definitely fit Luffy and Zoro. Meanwhile, Sanji and Law would word and say it differently, but they’ll still have the grit in the voice and say the classic phrase in a manner that fits them. Hence, I’ve varied the scenarios and dialogue a bit to match each character, but made sure they work in the vein of the trope~

Request: Touch Her and Die Featuring: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Law; Fem Reader Content Warning: mildly violent diction, implied kidnapping/capture in Luffy's and Law's section (but can be interpretated otherwise), stalking/harassment in Sanji’s section (but he saves you dw).

Luffy

I think he would definitely say this with so much earnestness. Luffy cares for his loved ones so much that he would always rush to violence if there was the prospect of them getting hurt. If he holds these feelings for the friends he cares and cherishes for, imagine what he’d do for a lover.

Despite his brash mind, Luffy does not take the concept of death lightly: after all, it’s not in his nature to easily take a life as he prefers to disarm then defeat an opponent. Hence, if it meant protecting you, it would mean having to forgo his usual rule.

Before Luffy comes to your rescue, all hope seemed lost, as if you could have been swallowed in a pool of despair and darkness. Then, like daybreak, the Straw Hat Pirate arrives. He kneels down on you, to check if you’re okay. His expression is a blank kind of warmth, the one where he is trying to hold his emotions back to focus on ensuring your safety. You’ll know he’ll smile when the coast is clear and everyone is alright. No, not now. Not when you’re vulnerable like this.

After reassuring himself that you were safe, you could see how his usually bright wide eyes tense up, as if his irises are a blank dot in each of eyes. 

Then he turns his head to his opponent, marching forward as a humming grrrr emanates from his lungs. Luffy grits his teeth, his hands forming into fists that were sure to land a painfully harsh blow.

“You bastard.”

Luffy was trembling; not out of fear, but the forewarning that he could burst into a pour of punches that would break every bone in one’s body. The moment he speaks and growls, it’s gritty and low, a looming punishment for the enemy who could have hurt you.

“Touch her, and die.”

Zoro

He’s not training to be the greatest swordsman only because swordsmandry is his passion, but also because he wants to protect the friends who were precious to him, especially you. If he failed that promise, he would beat himself down for it. But Zoro cannot afford to fall into this pitfall. No, he’s got to keep training, keep fighting, keep pushing. If he reaches his limits, he’ll crack them open and surpass them. 

Even if he was well aware you too were a capable fighter, Zoro cannot help but have this little voice inside of him: what if he was too late? Thus, he promises that he will be there to shield you with his sword.

So when you were about to be the victim to an enemy’s lethal blow. Swift like the wind, Zoro deflects the incoming attack, glancing back to ensure you were alright. After creating a forceful X with his katanas as the enemy backs off, Zoro brandishes them, steel sharpening against steel to create a menacing threat.

Zoro is a demon: the kind you are grateful that you were his ally, friend, lover—instead of an fiend who would shed no mercy or forgiveness. You trusted that he was strong enough, that he would protect you at all costs even if the ends turn out ghastly and gory. 

One you heeded Zoro's yell to focus on getting to safety, you watched from afar to see him turn into the feared swordsman, the way he lets out a ghastly snarl as he became like a tiger, swords as claws about to prance.

“Oi, touch her…”

And in the next moment, he brandishes two of his katanas, a pierce of red from his open eye glaring into the person who dared hurt you. Growling like an oni boiling with fury, Zoro was determined to slash and slice the enemy who, if he had not come in the right moment, could have ended your life.

“and die.”

Sanji

Sanji will never stand for anyone laying a finger on his beloved. He always believed in kindness, to treat others right and to have empathy when they make difficult choices. But there were some acts that were simply unforgivable—especially if they were targeting you.

The blond cook, who always promised to safeguard you from all harms through the power of his martial kicks, sighted you one day as you were chased by a lecherous man. With the way you had forced your pace and let out anxious breaths, he could not stand for this. Nobody deserved this horrifying experience, for the lack of respect that came with stalking and harassment was disgusting in Sanji’s eyes, with the way his curled eyebrows furrowed. 

A knight in a tailored suit, Sanji dashes to your aid, running in kicks as he apprehends your stalker: It was one of the rare times he uses his hands as a threat—the way he grips the shoulder of your harasser, squeezing them tight as if he were to crack and break their flesh open. If not, he’ll kick upwards with his powerful legs to split their body in vertical halves.

At this moment, Sanji wishes he could instead rush past and hold you tight, to protect you from such cruelty of the world and whisper affirmations of safety. But first, he’s going to give your stalker an admonish.

“You shitty asshole. How dare you try to touch her…”

Sanji spat, with his voice evolving into a dark gritty tone as if he had smoked a hundred cigarettes beforehand. His grip tightening, you know he’ll keep his promise as your guardian and lover, and to the person who harassed you, a painful kickdown.

“And if you take one step further, you die.”

Law

Law has always been protective of you. He cares for you and your individual, and if you are adjacent to any kind of danger he will worry gravely. Law feels the utmost responsibility to keep you safe, because if there was even the slightest scratch on you, or a sense of unforgotten horror in your eyes, he will never forgive himself.

He also does not say the word “die” lightly. Following a doctor’s code, all life is sacred, and even with his callous streak when it comes to tormenting enemies, Law does not have it in him to kill. But when push comes to shove, when his loved one is in danger… Law may have to break that personal code.

Before anything, he has to prioritize saving you first. Once you hear him yell “Room!” then “Shambles!” you find yourself swiftly teleported to Law’s side, and you see how he was straining himself in his stance: the inked fingers of his right hand curled, the dark circles growing larger around his eyes… He’ll exhaust himself first before anything can happen to you.

Then he faces his opponent, the one who could have hurt you if Law was even a second late. Before the confrontation, Law tells you to get away from the battle before things get ugly. 

Law enjoys playing and messing around with his opponents, but not this time. Grabbing the hilt of Kikoku and ready to unsheathe it at any moment, Law gives the enemy an ultimatum.

“I’ll give you a choice. You can walk away right now, and I won’t mess with you.”

Then, his golden eyes seem to flash, a premonition of what will come if his advice is not followed.

“But if you are still thinking about touching her, even in the slightest…”

Then with a growl, he affirms: 

“then die.”

~~~

I hope you enjoyed anon! Until then—see ya!

For more works: First hug from the Monster Trio First hug from Ace, Sabo, and Law

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 22

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 21 | Series Masterlist | Part 23

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.8k

Chapter Summary: Bucky decides to take you to the club where you have a chat with Natasha.

Chapter Warnings: Aftermath of physical assault, tension, mention of violence and threats, inner turmoil, crying, kissing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Silence stretched on as Bucky glared at his phone, and you felt uncomfortable with each second that passed. You managed to steal a glance at Curtis who gave a quick shake of the head in response. You sensed he wasn’t about to interrupt whatever thoughts were going through his boss’s mind, but you couldn’t take it.

“What are you going to do?” you asked.

He considered your question with a barely there smile. “I’m going to ignore him.”

You exchanged another look with Curtis who only shook his head again. “Is that a good idea?” you asked.

“I need to talk with the bastard who touched you before I talk to him,” he said. He was out for blood, but he was still thinking somewhat logically. If he spoke to him now, who knew how that would go? “I also want him to squirm.”

Of course, he did. “Should we call Natasha? Because I know you don’t want me to be alone while you… deal with that.”

“No, I don’t,” he confirmed, dialing and putting it on speakerphone.

It didn’t take long for her to answer. “Wasn’t expecting to hear from you, Barnes. Did you upset your girl again? Because whatever happened, I’m likely going to be on her side.”

Curtis snorted before Bucky shot him a glare. “My girl was attacked,” he growled.

You put a hand on his arm. The last thing he needed to do was get worked up. “Is she okay? What the hell happened?” Natasha asked, all traces of her previous sarcasm gone. Her concern was touching. “And who the hell did it?”

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Well, I’m as okay as I can be,” you added because you weren’t completely okay. No one in your position would be.

“I’ve got the bastard at my club, and I’m going to have a very long talk with him,” he said, fire in his eyes when he looked at you. “No one touches you and gets away with it.”

Except for Bucky himself.

“If she’s okay and you have the guy, why are you calling me? I can’t imagine it’s because you want me to get a hit in, though I wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky smirked. “I know you wouldn’t, but I need you to come to the club and keep an eye on my girl while I handle it,” he said. You knew an order when you heard one. You also figured Bucky didn’t want Natasha alone with you in the penthouse. There was trust between them, but only to an extent.

“You’re really bringing her there?” she asked, muttering something under her breath that you couldn’t catch. “Jesus, you’re not going to make her watch are you?”

You shuddered. A very small fraction of you wanted to witness it and maybe hurt Clark yourself for what he did, but the core of who you were held you back. You weren’t holding Bucky though, were you? You knew whatever happened to Clark wasn’t going to end well, and were you any better than Bucky by letting him dispense his own brand of justice?

Guilt was going to stain your soul and you wanted to desperately wash it away.

“No, she’s going to rest in my office, but I’d rather she not be alone given the circumstances and she suggested that you stay with her,” he said.

“Please,” you said.

“Kotyonok, you don’t have to say please,” Bucky said.

“No, but you should. She isn’t a soldier for you to order around, so use your manners,” you argued, seeing a smile tug at Curtis’s lips. “I understand if you can’t, Natasha,” you said to her. She couldn’t drop everything to watch over you.

“I need to wrap up one thing and I’ll head over if Bucky says ‘please’,” she said after a moment.

Bucky exhaled through his nose when you sweetly smiled. “Will you please watch over my girl?”

“Of course,” she answered easily.

You visibly relaxed. “Thanks.” You weren’t sure how many of the details you’d give her about what happened, but you could ask her about the self-defense lessons.

“Us girls have to stick together,” she said. You suspected she was smiling. “And so you’re aware, Barnes, I’m doing this for her, not you.”

“I know. Just be there,” Bucky said, hanging up without another word.

Curtis assessed you with a cool gaze before he smiled. “You’re sweet, but you’re a little badass, too,” he commented, crossing his arms and turning that cool gaze toward his boss. “I’m really going to enjoy those brownies.”

An arm snaked around your waist before you could respond that you were anything but a badass. “Those brownies are the only thing of hers you’re going to taste because she’s mine,” Bucky said in a low voice.

Heat shot up your neck to your cheeks. “Oh, my god. You’re like a well-dressed caveman, I swear,” you said, pulling away. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t fire Curtis after tonight. “Do you have something I can change into before we go?”

The amusement faded from Curtis’s eyes when he looked at the tear in your cardigan. He looked almost as upset as Bucky. “Yeah, I have a few things,” Bucky answered, leading you down the hall. “Get the car started, and bring her water and a snack with you,” he said over his shoulder.

“Please,” you added, rubbing your temple. “Manners cost nothing.”

“I use manners with you, don’t I?” he teased before he stopped you at the bedroom door. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts a little,” you admitted, seeing his lips set in a grim line. He kissed your forehead a heartbeat later, his lips tenderly brushing your skin. “I wish that took the pain away.”

You weren’t just talking about the headache. You wished he could really be your knight in shining armor who made the hurt stop. He caused so much of this pain, but he still showed up when you were in need. Was he going to help you heal or tear the wounds back open?

“I wish it did, too,” he whispered, letting you go ahead of him. “Closet’s on the right. I can have you take something for your head once we’re in the car.”

You searched for the light and gasped once you turned it on. It was one of the biggest closets you had ever seen, complete with built in shelves and a seating area. The left side was filled with suits, shoes, and more for Bucky. The right side was only half full with dresses and various outfits. There were a few pairs of shoes and handbags, too. You didn’t have to look to know that everything was in your size.

“When did you do this?” you asked, turning around to face him. You expected him to breathe down your neck, but he kept a respectable distance.

“Early on,” he said, tilting his head. “You look surprised.”

“I knew you had pajamas here for me, but I didn't expect more. Thank you,” you said. You weren't sure why you were surprised. He told you countless times you’d be moving in. “If you had clothes for me, why ask if I wanted a whole new wardrobe?”

“Because there's still lots of space to fill up,” he pointed out.

“You said part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver.”

“And you said part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff. You specifically said the next time we went shopping that you wanted to pick everything yourself.”

You ran your fingers along one of the dresses, wanting to be angry as you remembered the incident at the shop. You couldn't find the anger within. There was… something else there instead. “So you listened to me?”

“I always listen to you,” he replied.

“No, you don't, but I do believe you hear every word I say,” you said. There was a big difference between hearing and listening.

He sighed and took your hand. “I’m trying, Kotyonok.”

“I know, Bucky,” you smiled sadly. Bucky was used to being in charge, used to everyone following his orders. You pushed back, challenged him. It had to be foreign territory for him, as much as he said he liked your fire. “And I appreciate it.”

He took a few steps closer when you went to pick a new outfit for yourself. “This really isn’t how I wanted you to be here.”

“What was your plan if I refused to move in?” you asked, not looking at him as you went through the drawers. There was more jewelry for you, too. Between the library and this, he wasn’t kidding about spoiling you.

“I’m sure you remember that Thor and Sam invest in real estate,” he said. You hummed in acknowledgement. “I would’ve had the building bought and forced you out of your place.”

You laughed, a small and sad sound. It wasn’t a shock since it was implied that they were aware of your neighborhood and were interested in a possible investment. Hearing Bucky admit it though, not even bothering to lie or sound ashamed... “You would’ve forced me out of there just to get what you want?”

“What we want. Love and happiness. Together,” he said with fierce determination that bordered on his usual obsession.

Your nails dug into your palms, but only for a moment. “Turn around or leave, please, so I can change,” you said, too emotionally exhausted to deny or argue since love and happiness were things you wanted and he knew it.

“Do you think I’m going to try something?” he asked, sounding hurt.

“I think we're both feeling a lot of emotions, you desperately want me, and your control is hanging on by a thread,” you replied, daring to look at him. There was so much longing in his eyes and his fingers twitched like he wanted to touch you, whether it was to leave his mark or erase Clark’s touch. “And we know that line shouldn’t be crossed tonight.”

He was going to take you to bed eventually. Coaxing you or wearing you down, it was inevitable. He wouldn’t do it tonight though. Not when he wanted revenge on Clark and still needed answers.

It didn't stop him from looking conflicted when he nodded. “I’ll be right outside,” he said, leaving you alone.

Once you determined he wasn’t going to walk back in, you stripped down. The urge to scream rose up when you stared at the discarded cardigan. It was meant to keep you warm, but all you could do was shiver when you thought of your friends at the winery and Clark putting his hands on you. Wiping at your eyes, you threw something simple and comfortable on. You couldn’t keep Bucky waiting.

Bucky stood right beside the door as you walked out, his jaw tight. He must’ve noticed you had gotten teary-eyed again. “You’re breaking my heart,” he whispered, reaching for your hand. “I know what happened isn’t going to fade overnight, but I’ll make you feel safe again. I’ll make you smile, too.”

“You’re a determined man,” you said. In some ways, you felt a little safer. Your library and panic room were safe. He was going to get you a panic button. Ray and Curtis had an eye on you. You had a feeling Bucky wouldn't let you stray too far away from him for a while.

As far as him making you smile, you wondered how he planned to do that.

You didn’t speak when Bucky took you to the car, silently drinking and eating while he stayed tense beside you. Curtis didn't say a word either. Your stomach turned, but it had nothing to do with your head. There was tension in the vehicle, each passing second bringing Bucky closer to unleashing his rage on someone who dared to hurt you.

“What would your mom have done if someone put a hand on you?” you finally asked to break the silence.

“She would've been compassionate but firm. Protective but encourage me to speak up and defend myself. And she would've made sure that person never laid a finger on me ever again,” he said proudly.

Your heart ached as you thought of your parents. They’d never know what happened to you because they’d never bother to ask how you were doing and you’d never bother to tell them because they wouldn't fight for you. Brick by brick it was another wall you put up. Bucky continued to hand you the tools to build it, all while tearing down the wall you tried to put between you and him.

“I want to do something normal tomorrow,” you said, voluntarily resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder. The gesture helped him relax. You, too. “Something besides resting.”

“How about that pizza and a movie date night we talked about?” he suggested, tenderly rubbing your arm. “That’s normal.”

“Can I pick the movie?”

“You can pick whatever movie you want,” he promised.

You lifted your head to gaze at him. “I know I can’t stop you from doing whatever it is you’re going to do,” you began. There would be no reasoning with him in that matter. “But how can I help you after?”

He tried not to give anything away, but his eyes filled with shock. “You… want to help me?”

“I don’t know what kind of mood you’ll be in once you’re done. I don’t know if you’ll want attention and be clingy or if you’ll want to be alone so you can cool off. So when it’s said and done, please, tell me what you need so I can give it to you to the best of my ability,” you answered.

You were tired of walking on eggshells. You wouldn't do it in your new home. If you were going to be with him, you had to know how to handle him after something of this magnitude.

You heard him sigh before his lips touched yours. “I just need you,” he whispered, your heart fluttering when he kissed you again, deeper. It wasn’t forceful though. It was slow and deliberate without pushing or taking too much. He didn’t try to pull you back in either when you pulled away. That was progress.

“We’re here,” Curtis said.

“I’m going to help you after this, too, however I can,” he promised, brushing a soft kiss against your lips and helping you out of the car.

Who knew this incident was something that would bring you closer together?

You spotted Natasha leaning against a sleek black car with a bored look on her face. “How did I beat you here?” she asked before locking eyes with you. There was sympathy and concern there. “This wasn’t how I wanted to see you again.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” you said, glancing at the sign for the club. It was strange not seeing it lit up.

“Let’s get inside,” Bucky ordered, giving you a slight smile. “Please.”

Natasha brushed by Curtis. “Everett.”

“Romanoff,” he acknowledged.

There was no bass reverberating through the walls, no signs of patrons drinking and dancing. No Hal at the bar or Jax or Ari keeping watch. The usual energy of nightlife and sex and fun were nowhere to be found. Minus the footsteps across the floor, there was no other sound.

“Ray,” you whispered when he came through a door. He looked as pristine as always, but the hard blinks gave away his agitation.

“Everyone’s downstairs, boss,” he said, pushing his glasses up. “Are you alright?” he asked you, his voice much softer.

Bucky’s hold tightened on you once again. You were really going to have to work on his possessive streak, especially when it came to his own men. “I’m as okay as I can be,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Let me take her up to the office and I’ll be right down,” Bucky said.

When you imagined the look of a killer, you imagined something lifeless and empty. Bucky’s eyes were always full of fire and passion when it came to you. But the cold look that crossed his face when he walked you to his office, you saw a glimpse of the danger he spoke about. Clark wasn’t going to get any mercy or care from Bucky.

“The couch is pretty comfortable to sleep on and there’s a fridge and some food, too, if you’re still hungry,” he said, grabbing a pillow and blanket that he had stashed away. “If you need me, push the red button on the right side of my desk.”

“I think I'll be okay,” you said, taking a seat on the couch while Natasha took one of the chairs.

Bucky tipped your chin up. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but try to get some rest,” he said, leaning down. You expected a kiss, but he just brushed his nose against yours. “And I know you can’t say you love me yet, but just know that I love you and this is all for you.”

You exhaled when he straightened up. Was it all for you? “Please, be careful and don’t lose yourself,” you said. Whatever demon was going to surface within Bucky tonight couldn’t permanently stay because it would destroy you both if it did.

“I won’t lose myself.” The smile he gave you could’ve melted hearts. “I have you to come back to.”

With that, Bucky left the office and shut the door behind him.

“Well,” Natasha said, leaning forward in her chair. “I have a feeling you won’t be going to sleep right away.”

“No, I won’t,” you agreed. You couldn’t since your mind was racing with too many thoughts of what happened and what would happen.

“You don’t have to say a word,” she assured you. “If you do want to talk about what happened though, I’ll listen.”

You told her everything. How Clark used to come into the shop for roses for Lois. How he tried to give you flowers and showed up when you weren’t at the shop. How upset he was when you turned down his offer for coffee and how he was waiting for you tonight. The hatred he seemed to have for Bucky, the mention of a powerful friend, that he didn’t confirm or deny that it was Zemo. What he did once he was in your apartment, Bucky and some of his men saving you. All of it. And by the time you finished, you were sniffling and exhausted.

Natasha, looking as cool and calm as always, handed you a tissue. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. You don’t deserve it.”

You blew your nose. “No one deserves it,” you said. It wasn’t something you’d wish on anyone.

“If you need a place a stay-”

“I’m in the penthouse now, which is exactly what Bucky wanted all along,” you said, and you believed Bucky when he said it wasn’t how you were supposed to eventually be there. “I appreciate the offer though.”

“Okay. I’ll back off for now.” She tapped a finger against the chair arm. “May I say something else?”

“I won’t stop you.”

“The powerful friend of Clark’s may be Zemo, but I don’t think he would’ve ordered him to attack you the way he did. If you had resisted going with Clark and it was really on Zemo’s orders, he should’ve backed off instead of laying a hand on you.”

“But Zemo lost his wife and kid. Maybe he wouldn’t care if I got hurt,” you said. Losing loved ones like that could drive people to do extreme things.

“He’s more strategic than that and he knows someone hurting you could start a war,” she said, shaking her head. If that was true and Clark took matters into his own hands, what did that mean for Zemo? “Something isn’t adding up here. We have to talk to Barnes when he’s done.”

Your fingers twisted in the blanket. The entire situation was so much to take in. “Am I a bad person for not stopping Bucky?” you asked suddenly.

“What? No. No.” She straightened up and shook her head. “Don't do that to yourself.”

“But I know he’s going to hurt Clark. Maybe kill him. And I-”

“You’re not a bad person, do you hear me?” Natasha left her chair to sit near you, but kept a distance and made sure she didn’t touch you. “Listen to me. Clark crossed boundaries and attacked you. Barnes crossed boundaries, too, but he never once went to that level. Even if a part of you does want revenge it doesn't make you a bad person. Wanting justice makes you human.”

“But Bucky’s making his own brand of justice.”

“They have their own rules when it comes to what's theirs and someone put their hands on the top dog’s girl. He can't let that slide. None of those men can,” she said.

That was the world you lived in now. “So, even though you believe I have power over Bucky, I couldn't have stopped him if I tried?” you asked.

“As powerful as you are, even if you got down on your knees and begged, it wouldn't stop him from doing what he thinks he has to do in this situation,” the redhead answered. You were afraid of that. “But you don't have to carry that guilt. Their actions, Clark’s, Bucky’s, any of them, they chose those paths. Not you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, dabbing at your eyes with a fresh tissue. “Sorry for crying.”

“After everything you’ve been through, it would worry me if you didn’t cry.”

You had to laugh since she had a point. “I told Bucky I want to be able to defend myself in case anything happens again. I’d really like it if you could teach me.”

You didn’t have to tell her that you didn’t want a man teaching you. She was smart, intuitive. “I’d love to teach you. Just tell me when you want to start and I’ll make it happen,” she said, sighing when her phone went off. “I’m sorry. It’s my sister.”

“Take it,” you said. She had already done enough by listening to you and agreeing to the self-defense lessons.

“Yelena, I’m kind of busy at the moment,” she answered, gripping her phone tighter. “He’s what?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, though it was none of your business.

Natasha pulled the phone away from her ear. “My sister’s a block away from the club. Want to take a guess who she’s following?”

“Zemo?” you guessed, your stomach sinking again. Was he coming here because Bucky ignored his message?

“Yep, but don’t worry. She’ll make sure he doesn’t make it inside.”

Whether Zemo got into the club or not, you were going to get answers. It was the least you deserved. Because this was your life, and you were tired of people playing with it like you were a doll.

I'm so glad Natasha is there for our girl. Is she onto something with Zemo? And we may get a surprise in the next update. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[amkgal]

I. Dragon quest three. And final famtasy 5 I was barely able to read so seeing these guys that I'd fallen in love with just.

Fall.

Unable to finish what they started it.

It hurt so bad.

And the way they died, still fighting against their fate?

Yeah I uh. My parents had to take the games away for a bit when it happened.

Goodbye fiction dad Ortega. Goodbye fiction grandpa Galuf.

fuck it, i'm curious. reblog and tag with the first fictional death to ever rewrite your brain chemistry and/or make you cry like a baby. mine was ares from the underland chronicles (who, for context, was a giant bat.) to this day i will weep if i think too hard about it. okay, go.

[tsunodaradio]

not a lot (just forever) ⛐ 𝐈𝐇𝟔

THIS IS: FORMULA ONE 📀 isack likes to think he's not asking for a lot.

♫ starring: isack hadjar x childhood bestfriend!reader. ♫ social media au. ♫ includes: fluff, romance. profanity, mentions of food. events of aus gp (this deserves a warning), hurt/comfort, dash of fake dating, friends to lovers. slightly fucked up race timeline (we ball), google translated french, rookies make an appearance. anon requested not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker. ♫ commentary box: this is also for the anon who asked for more hadjar fluff! i've found my people 😋 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Liked by isackhadjar, gabrielbortoleto_, and others yourusername baby's f1rst day at work

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user1 MY FAV DUO IS BACK IM SOBBING 😭 user2 Love love loveee that you two are still going strong after all this time!! user3 that caption is TOO witty actually. brb stealing. user4 IS THAT ISACK HADJAR??? ⤷ user5 oh honey u must be new here ⤷ user6 Welcome to the hell/heaven that is the isackhadjar x yourusername (best friend)ship

Liked by yourusername, visacashapprb, and others isackhadjar Snaps of my first week as an F1 driver ! 🏎️Somebody is already replacing me ...

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user1 a papaya hat oh u have competition isack user2 is that isack's gf? ⤷ user3 no she's my gf ⤷ user4 She's ALL of our gf actually. ⤷ user5 they're "just friends"! 😄👍 yourusername YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T POST THAT ⤷ user6 isack boutta end up in the dog house LMAOOO ⤷ isackhadjar Oops ? ⤷ yourusername isackhadjar I Will Remember This Moment user7 More Isack x Yuki content pls pls pls 🧎 user8 yourusername being a lewis hamilton fangirl <333 i love LH stan bestiesss

Liked by isackhadjar, olliebearman, and others yourusername bit of a long one but i need you all to bear with me. i was there when isackhadjar hung his first Cars poster in his bedroom. he told me je serai comme lightning mcqueen un jour, and while i had made fun of him for wanting to be a car, i also knew he was a man of his word. when he first got behind the wheel in 2012, i knew he would be a natural... and look where he is now!!! breaks my heart i won't be in aus for his official debut but this bahrain weekend was more than enough to remind me why he's the rookie to look out for. je t'aime, ma meilleure moitié x ka-chow! 🏁

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user1 yourusername don't make us cry challenge user2 The photo of baby Isack :( I'm devastated. user3 s'il te plaît, date déjà visacashapprb 💙💙💙 ⤷ user4 ship so good that even the team is on board. user5 "ma meilleure moitié" being "my better half",,, ohhh user6 HE SAID 😭 HE WANTED TO BE 😭 LIKE LIGHTNING MCQUEEN 😭😭😭 user7 Wait why won't you be trackside :( My besties ⤷ yourusername uni 🥲 ⤷ user8 pay for her plane ticket visacashapprb don't be shy isackhadjar Je t'adore ⤷ user9 He ADORES her. Oh Lord i am not your strongest soldier ⤷ user10 i am trying so hard not to ship you 2 but you are making it soooooo hard..

Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others isackhadjar Friday/Saturday was strong, Sunday was painful and unfortunate for the team. Car seems to work, can’t wait to be back racing in Shanghai ! Support has been unreal 🙏🏼 Special thanks to yourusername who said I shouldn't shout her out, but when your best friend flies 19 hours to make you pizza ? A shoutout is the least that can be done

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user1 The comeback will be even better 💪 user2 keep your head up, king. china comeback let's gooo. user3 :( yourusername going through hoops to comfort isack. likeee user4 OGs know about the F3 pizza tradition ⤷ user5 MY SHAYLAS ⤷ user6 Can someone explain this ??? ⤷ user7 We are losing the ancient texts y'all...... ⤷ user8 when yourusername was at one of isack's races, they'd always make homemade pizza for the entire team (for good luck)! it's been going on since isack debuted in f3 asia in 2021, he talks about it on an interview somewhere user9 on est avec toi goat !! 🐐 user10 One bad race doesn't define you , wish u best of luck yourusername tu es un imbécile, mais tu es mon imbécile ❤️ Liked by creator ⤷ user11 Never hit see translation SO fast ⤷ user12 "You're a fool, but you're my fool" COME THE FAWK AWNNN

Liked by user1, user2, and others formu1adrama In case you missed it 🔎 isackhadjar and yourusername are the cutest friendship on the grid! Sources say the two have known each other since childhood. Ask anyone across formulae and they'll tell you yourusername has been a constant fixture in Isack's motorsports career. The two are a pair; do not separate! Photos -- 1) One of Isack's IG stories from 2024; 2) Isack's IG post from 2021; 3) Tagged Facebook photo from 2017.

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user1 and they were CHILDHOOD FRIENDS?! user2 S'il vous plaît … Combien de temps devons-nous souffrir ...? user3 slowburn so crazy tht i'm literally on fire 🔥 user4 Been my ship since Isack's F3 days user5 Does anyone have a clip of their secret handshake (the one the media caught in 2023 iirc??) 🥺 user6 friendship is so beautiful /s user7 isackhadjar JS MAKE A MOVE BRUV FFS U'RE ALREADY A F1 DRIVER user8 I'm boutta get real parasocial in dis household.

Liked by isackhadjar, yukitsunoda0511, and others yourusername je veux que nous mangions tous les deux bien 🍊

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user1 the caption being a translation of wendy cope's "the orange" poem >>> i want us both to eat well supremacy ⤷ user2 And when i say that line actually starts with "I love you"... user3 Did I miss something ??? Are they fr dating now user4 War Is Overrr yukitsunoda0511 is that my date night salad recipe ⤷ user5 who the fuck has a date night salad recipe??? ⤷ user6 YOU'RE ASKING THE WRONG QUESTIONS BRUH SO THEY HAD A DATE NIGHT 🫨 ⤷ yourusername much thanks yukitsunoda0511 ❤️ Liked by yukitsunoda0511 user7 i'll send $1 to everyone who likes this comment if they are actually dating ❤️ Liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, jackdoohan, gabrielbortoleto_

Liked by yourusername, jackdoohan, and others isackhadjar Like the rock bears the weather

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user1 THE FIRST PICJDSKACSAD HELLOOOOO???? user2 Oh Isack Hadjar I was NOT familiar with your game. 👀 user3 Y'ALL DON'T LET THE SHIRTLESS PIC DISTRACT YOU FROM THE SOFT LAUNCHES ⤷ user4 MEEE. is it actually a soft launch when we all know who it is ⤷ user5 The keychains? The flowers? ARE THEY.. YOU KNOW... user6 ih6 lover era ? i used to pray for times like these user7 JE VEUX TE METTRE DANS MA BOUCHE user8 Are we witnessing Isack Hadjar claw himself out of the friendzone real-time ⤷ user9 AND I LOVE TO SEE IT YUPPP 🗣️ ⤷ user10 f2l THE superior trope. user11 ffs if y'all are just messing with us.... i stggg user12 Do u need a 3rd ahahahahaha jk. Unless?

Liked by isackhadjar, visacashapprb, and others yourusername every year, isackhadjar and i mark the day he started racing. a decade and some change later, i find myself in awe of how the boy who once lived next door is now racing all over the world. isack, you may be a menace on the track, but underneath all that is my best friend. may you always choose what makes you happy. in all the languages we know: i love you, je t'aime, nhabek

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user1 just fell to my knees at walmart user2 THIS IS ALL I WANT IN LIFE IS THAT TEW MUCH TO ASK visacashapprb You're not crying, we are 🥲 ⤷ user3 admin can we have a tiktok of these two pls ⤷ user4 Fuck it. Atp put yourusername in the team idc how user5 How will I recover from this?????????? isackhadjar Je te choisis pour toujours et à jamais et à jamais ⤷ user6 [ENG TR] "I choose you forever and ever and ever" ⤷ user7 SHUT UP RIGHT NOWW ☹️☹️☹️ ⤷ user8 i need a moment,,, ⤷ user9 Are we going to talk about how the post said "May you always choose what makes you happy" AND HE SAID . user10 "nhabek" because of isack being algerian :( these two

Liked by isackhadjar, kimi.antonelli, and others yourusername finally

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user1 isack finally finishing a race b/c yourusername was in the stands iktr 🙂‍↕️ user2 Swift x ice cream?? Best pairing isackhadjar Baby's f1rst race as a WAG 👏 ⤷ user3 WHAT ⤷ user4 OMH Y UFCKING GOD ⤷ user5 THIS IS NOT A DRILL?????????????! ⤷ user6 LET OUT THE LOUDEST YEAH BOI OF MY LIFEEE ⤷ user7 IS THAT WHAT TTHE "FINALLY" IS ABOUT ⤷ user8 I DID MY WAITING!! THIRTEEN YEARS OF ITTTT

Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, and others isackhadjar Better late than never ! C'est toi, ça a toujours été toi ❤️ yourusername

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user1 "it's you, it's always been you" i died .. i died n i'm in heaven user2 THEY ACTUALLY DID IT. THEY ACTUALLY DID IT!! user3 c'est le plus beau jour de ma vie 🙏 user4 Quick. Everybody act surprised ! yourusername just on time :) ❤️ Liked by creator

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 !

Liked by lewishamilton, visacashapprb, and others yourusername isackhadjar cried to me on facetime after this btw

View all comments isackhadjar Ma chérie delete please.... ⤷ isackhadjar Ma belle please ⤷ isackhadjar Mon amour please delete please