#anon seriously where did you come from

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

How do you feel about (the late) nurse Dolly?

Oh my god— a ratched ask?? In my inbox?? In this, the year of our lord 2024??? Anon, who are you and where did you come from 😂

I have a feeling that you’re not going to like my answer, so I plead the fifth 🤐🙈

[ultfreakme]

You must be in a tumblr bubble because how have you never seen posts with thousands notes claiming most classical literature is actually fanfiction of bible and the rest is of mythology. Like, this isn’t a hot take on tumblr, unfortunately.

Probably because I have a life outside of tumblr and curate my experience, but yes, I have seen posts about how Paradise Lost is just Bible fanfic and Dante's Inferno is self-insert fanfiction, but mostly from people who watch OSPD videos and say it as a joke. It's a major simplification of about a dozen concepts but okay, if you look at it from the point of definitions, yeah, Paradise Lost & the Divine Comedy are technically fanfiction; they are based on pre-existing work, with Dante there's irl people in scenarios they've never been in, etc etc.

Although I have never seen anyone saying any particular fanfic is a literary masterpiece that must simply be taught in academic settings, which is what that OP's post was actually implying.

And here's the thing; I think fanfic has the potential to be considered a classic. Because, what makes let's say, the Divine Comedy so important? It's not because it's old, but because it struck a nerve among the masses, it did things against the societal structure no one dared to do before, it transformed the Italian language as we know it, it's this carefully, excruciatingly crafted work in terms of sentence structure and is primarily a theological exploration. Now this stands out also because the og canon content, the Bible, is MASSIVE in influence. That thing STILL shapes social norms, conventions and expectations.

No current fanfiction now will ever come to be seen as a true classic unless the canon thing the fic is based on reaches Bible levels of influence on society, which is going to take centuries. Same can be applied to Greek Myths in general(also in both these cases the canon thing is also tied to social structure and religion which large portions of the world follow). We don't want to equate the term 'fanfiction' to that stuff because it feels like it's beyond that but technically, yeah. It's fanfiction.

But the term fanfiction itself is extremely recent, it was said first in 1939 and therefore carries temporal contexts and definitions. It's why it feels juvenile and uncomfortable assigning such a new, and initially frowned-upon term to classics. Being angry about what is and what isn't fanfiction depends entirely upon how you view the term 'fanfiction'.

For me, it is value-neutral and doesn't immediately denote lowered quality these days because at the most fundamental level, fanfiction is literary work based on pre-existing media. But if you add the current cultural context in which fanfiction is primarily written, ie., posted online by anyone and everyone with a desire to write, mostly to fulfill shipping fantasies or certain character scenarios canon didn't provide, then I can see why people would consider giving the label of fanfiction to the classics an insult or "shooting too high".

Maybe 'fanfiction' isn't fitting because of all the social stigma around it, maybe it doesn't apply because it feels like trying to apply modern story beats and terms to ancient mythology. What specifically, is making someone uncomfortable about the term 'fanfiction' on the classics? What the hell even is "fanfiction" in the first place because you could argue that The Song of Achilles is canon-compliant POV change fanfiction but its advertised as a retelling. Pride & Prejudice & Zombies also counts for fic. I think there's a good discussion to be had on what makes "fanfiction" as we know it now what it is because even I think assigning the term to Divine Comedy or Paradise Lost feels wrong. Maybe it's about intent? The classics are written with the need for social change or to make people see things different; art for life's sake. But most fic these days are purely art for art's sake- it is peak self-indulgence and self-expression.

I'm looking it up and people keep narrowing the definition of "fanfiction" as like

Amateur writing

Based on copyrighted characters

Without permission from og creator

Now that whole "copyright" concept complicates things because Romeo & Juliet? Not originally by Shakespeare. Dude borrowed characters from a different play, pretty sure he changed Juliette's name, and he wrote it when the og was only recently made. The concept of "copyright" and "author permission" is also VERY recent. What even counts as actually "amateur" because Van Gogh is considered a pro now but when he was alive he only sold one painting apparently so back then he could've been classified as "amateur"?

I have fully derailed. I forgot what I wanted to say-- Okay yeah I'm aware people say the classics are fanfiction, and in a way, yeah, it is, depending on how the individual defines "fanfiction".

[dellovestorant]

lewis is and always will be bigger than george deal with that

Um ok? Like great for him 🥳

I'm scrolling back through my posts trying to find what bought this ask on and frankly anon idk where you're coming from.

Like I don't need George to be as big as Lewis 😭 less gatekeeping to do from me yipee.

Look if George's happy that's all good from my end.

Like I'm a swim fan I'm so very used to people being overlooked or an athlete getting bigger recognition than another just because they don't swim fuckass freestyle (I love freestylers this isn't hate towards them it's just media bias as usual).

[pokedelivery-girl]

choke and die

deepthroat a railgun

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF? — LN4

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

genre: established relationship, humour

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user2 just made a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 406,409 others

landonorris dinner date then stream, be there or be square, 6pm

view all comments

maxfewtrell did she have to show you how to use a knife and fork too?

yourusername i definitely had to show him how to fill my wine glass up when it was empty

user PUT Y/N ON THE STREAM WE WANT MORE Y/N

user if he comes on in a dress shirt i’m Dead

user oh they’ve all definitely seen the thread😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 108,654 others

yourusername this time it was my own stupidity that let the secret out. and i didn’t have to show him how to propose! he did it all on his own accord!

view all comments

user YOU’RE SUCH AN ICON

user only lando and y/n could accidentally expose their own engagement

user THE CAPTION😭😭 she really has kept him alive all these years huh

user ‘i wouldn’t want to think of a life without you anyway’ now if that’s not meant to be than what is

landonorris i love you

landonorris really quick whilst we’re at it,,, where tf do we keep the spare phone chargers?

yourusername oh.. oh baby. i’ll be home in 5

————

a/n: hELLO! so the snippet from this got over 200 notes and i couldn’t wait to post it because you all loved it so much!

for the rest of my wips, check out the wip game linked in my pinned post!!

all of your feedback over the last few days has made me so happy sjdjsjs, any thoughts please feel free to send i am having so much fun creating for you guys. i seriously appreciate every like comment ask and follow!! anon emojis are now listed in my bio so if you wanna chat a bunch, have a look at what’s free !

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan

[beloveds-embrace]

duke au angst, but könig isn’t a knight. He’s either not in it and reader just sinks into a pit of depression and withdrawals so much that rumours start speculation around the ton that reader is either dead or murder and it starts to take a toll on john reputation (they start going after why him, simon, johnny and kyle are so close) or a könig is an Austrian duke/way closer to royalty and when he’s over for business with John and/or simon, he and the reader hit it off (much to the boys dismay) and reader plans on leaving without a word, leaving nothing more than a vague letter that details why and a set of divorce papers (helped achieved by könig) and by the time they realise their mistake readers already living the high life in austria

….okay but the first one’s got me downright obsessed, anon 😩 second one too and i feel like i will absolutely end up caving and writing it later but for now, have this!

Angst dukedom post

Non-angst dukedome post(no konig in this one)

No but seriously, there is only so much you can take. Between everyone’s dismissal of you, the lack of any meaningful company, the loneliness- it was only a matter of time before you just… can’t do it anymore.

The change, though it starts slow, is impossible to hide. You stop having dinner with John, finding no solace in the taste of lukewarm, half-heartedly prepared food. You tell yourself it’s not worth it- the stilted conversations, the empty looks, the way his eyes always drift to anything but you. He’s too busy sharing hidden glances with Kyle, exchanging quiet touches with Johnny when he hand delivers the food, speaking to Simon with an intensity that has never been for you.

You stop attending the endless galas and balls you are meant expected to attend as the Duchess. You withdraw from the tea parties, from every suffocating event where you were paraded as nothing more than an ornament on Duke Price’s arm. You withdraw from the public eye itself.

Instead, you drift through the duchy, through the rooms that are suddenly empty when you arrive. You drift to and fro, in a haze of lonelinthat and slow-setting exhaustion.

The maids whispered of you before, but it used to be out of your earshot; now, you can hear them clearly, none of them afraid of being punished when not even your own husband can stand your sight. They mutter about how sickly you look, how your eyes are dull and lifeless.

She’s wasting away.

Maybe it’s for the best.

No one can love someone who fades into the walls.

But of course, the whispers aren’t just within the duchy. Rumors ripple out beyond the duchy’s walls-

The Duchess has gone mad, they say. Locked away by her husband, for her own good.

She ran away in the dead of night, they say. Couldn’t bear her husband’s coldness. Maybe he drove her to it.

He’s always with Duke Riley, isn’t he? Or the butler. Or the chef.

Poor thing. No wonder she vanished.

All of it gnaws and bites at John’s reputation, at yours, but he never comes to you and it doesn’t surprise you at all. He would rather find a way to bury it all then simply check on you. The facade has always been more important, and he keeps it with half-hearted excuses half-believed by some and dismissed by others.

But they are relentless, and soon they taint every interaction he has. No one meets him without a hint of suspicion in their eyes. How much of it is true, they seem to ask. What did you do to her? Is she really gone? She was a good woman, how could you do that to her? There is more scrutiny now on the time he spends with Simon, with Kyle, with Johnny. He starts to avoid public events himself, unwilling to face the relentless gossip that hangs over him now like a dark cloud.

Eventually, you stop dressing for the day, leaving your hair unkempt, your gowns crumpled and out of style. No one comes to check on you, the maids happy at having less work, and you tell yourself that you prefer it that way. No eyes to judge. No lips to lie. The solitude is nothing new, even if it’s never been this severe before.

Time blurs, too. You stop looking at the newspapers when they stop being delivered. The days mean nothing when every morning brings only a new kind of numbness, and some days you spend entirely in bed, too tired to even think about taking a step outside.

Yet, even with your noticeable absence, nothing changes. No one knocks on your door, not even once. No one checks to see if you’re eating, breathing, surviving. You feel so achingly lonely.

John doesn’t approach you once. You have become a specter, more distant than ever. And though he and the others feel a creeping sense of guilt- Kyle finds himself lingering outside your door, only to turn away with clenched fists; Johnny’s jokes die in his throat when he hears your name; Simon stares at the spot you used to take during the dinners and lunches he’d join; John stares at the very few portraits of you that line the walls and wonders how he’d even go about approaching you- none of them move to truly mend the gaping distance between you. They regret their neglect, but they do not know how to fix it. Or maybe they are simply too late.

dukedom au masterlist Part Two: Fix-it

[pickingupmymercedes]

Happy you're home - Lewis Hamilton

request : "their son is like 2/3 y/o and reader obviously pays more attention to him, even after coming back from work, so lewis is a bit 'jealous' and very clingy, needy with his wife." - fluff anon ✌🏽(gonna call you that because you were so lovely even with the confusion)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader!

wordcount: +2k

a/n: There's a bit of angst , I know the request was for something fluff, but I just had to. It's worth it though, promise😉.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

"So, special dates?" Lewis asked casually as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Y/n stir the sauce simmering on the stove.

Y/n glanced over her shoulder at him, catching the hint of something beneath his tone. "Yeah, just little outings after I pick him up from nursery" she replied lightly, sensing where this conversation was headed.

"Outings?" Lewis repeated, pushing off the counter to walk closer, his eyes following her every move. "You make it sound so... exclusive."

"Well" Y/n teased, turning to face him fully "It was our thing while you were away. Just me and him. You know he's a little creature of habit."

Lewis crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance. "And what, he's not happy I'm home now?"

Y/n laughed softly, moving to grab a couple of plates. "He's thrilled you're home, Lew. But he's also two, and he's gotten used to our routine."

Lewis hummed, but there was a slight edge to his expression. "I just thought he’d be excited to see me. I mean, I picked him up, and he barely smiled."

"He's not used to you picking him up, that's all. Give him time." She set the plates down on the table and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "He missed you. We both did."

Lewis softened at her touch, pulling her closer. "I missed you too. I just feel a bit... left out?"

Y/n tilted her head, studying him. "Left out?" She smiled, though she could see the seriousness in his eyes.

"I mean…" he admitted, a bit sheepishly. "It’s like every time I turn around, he's glued to you. And I get it, you're his mom, but..." He trailed off, his hand resting on her hip, thumb brushing absentmindedly against the skin he found just below the waistband of her jeans. "I guess I'm just a little jealous."

"Of him?" Y/n raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her amusement.

"Maybe," Lewis muttered, his voice low. "Or maybe of the fact that you two have all these moments when I'm not around."

Y/n's smile turned into a gentle laugh, and she leaned up to kiss him softly. "You know, you could join us on our little dates."

"Could I?" Lewis' eyes sparkled with the challenge. "Because it seemed like he wasn't too happy about me crashing those special times today."

Y/n chuckled. "We'll make it our thing—all three of us."

Lewis seemed to consider this, his hands tightening around her. "I don't want to just be the guy who shows up between races, Y/n. I want to be part of all of it."

"You are" she reassured him, kissing the corner of his mouth. "And trust me, he adores you. He just doesn't know how to express it."

He sighed, nodding slowly. "I know. I just hate missing out."

Y/n cupped his face, making him meet her gaze. "You're here now. And that's what matters."

As the rest of the evening went by the tension from earlier slowly dissipated. But Y/n couldn't help but notice how clingy Lewis was, not just with their son but with her too.

Every chance he got, he was touching her, keeping her close. When it was time to put their son to bed, Lewis lingered, his hands on the small of her back as she tucked the little boy in.

As they got ready for bed themselves, Y/n couldn’t contain herself anymore. She slipped into her nightwear, watching as Lewis pulled back the covers.

"So" she began, trying to sound casual, "you’re a little... possessive tonight."

"Possessive?" Lewis looked up; one eyebrow raised. "Is that what you call it?"

"Handsy would be a better word" Y/n teased, slipping into bed beside him.

Lewis smirked, leaning closer. "Maybe I missed you more than I realized."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile forming on her lips. "Or maybe you're still a bit jealous of a toddler."

Lewis didn’t deny it, instead pulling her into his arms, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Maybe I am. But can you blame me?"

Y/n laughed softly, running her fingers tips on his arm. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

"Um…" Lewis murmured, his lips brushing against her neck.

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of their son's cries coming through the baby monitor. Y/n sighed, moving to get up, but Lewis held her back for a moment.

"Does he really need you every time?" he grumbled, clearly frustrated.

"He's two, Lewis," Y/n reminded him gently, though there was a hint of impatience in her tone. "And yes, he needs me because that's all he’s got."

The words were out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. Lewis’s expression shifted, something like hurt and understanding mixed on his features. "Y/n..."

"I’m sorry," she quickly apologized, her voice softening. "That’s not what I meant."

Lewis nodded, though the sadness lingered in his eyes. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Y/n nodded, leaning down to kiss him briefly before slipping out of bed.

She hurried to their son's room, finding him sitting up in his crib, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

"Dada?" he asked through sniffles, looking around as if expecting to see Lewis behind her.

Y/n’s heart melted a little, and she leaned into the crib, brushing his curls back. "Dada's asleep, sweetie. Do you want me to tuck you in?"

But their son shook his head, determined. "Dada."

Before Y/n could respond, Lewis appeared in the doorway, his expression softening as he saw their son. "Hey, buddy" he said quietly, crossing the room to pick him up.

The little boy immediately settled against his father’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around Lewis’s biceps.

Y/n watched as Lewis sat down in the recliner, cradling their son with a tenderness as she have them some space, slipping out of the room and back into bed.

When Lewis finally returned, his footsteps were soft as he approached the bed. He slipped in beside her, pulling her close and leaving a kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"Has he been waking up like that a lot?" Lewis asked, his voice tinged with concern as he settled into bed beside Y/n.

Y/n nodded, resting her head on his chest. "For the past couple of weeks mostly. The change in routine really got to him."

Lewis sighed deeply, his hand gently tracing circles on her back. "I should’ve been here for his first days at nursery."

Y/n lifted her head slightly, about to reassure him, but Lewis's hand on her back stilled her.

"Y/n, don’t" he began, his voice thoughtful. "It’s not just about missing his first days. It’s the time you’ve had with him, but also the time he’s had with you."

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Lewis let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "I missed you, too. Not just the way I always miss you when I’m away, but I missed being a part of this routine. The bedtime, the little 'dates,' the way he clings to you... I missed seeing you with him, and I missed having you to myself after all that."

Y/n's heart softened at his words, a tender smile tugging at her lips. "Lew, you’re always part of those moments, even when you’re not physically here."

Lewis’s eyes met hers, full of emotion. "I know I was stupid earlier, but it's because I love being with you—both of you. And when I'm not, it feels like I'm missing out on so much. As his dad and as your partner."

Y/n’s smile widened as she shifted to lie more comfortably against him. "I missed you too. More than you know. And trust me, our little guy missed you like crazy, even if he didn’t show it."

Lewis chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "He’ll come around. I just have to remind him that I'm part of this whole 'special date' thing too."

"You will," Y/n assured him, brushing a soft kiss against his neck. "And as for us, we’ll make up for lost time."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice filled with affection. "You’re stuck with me, Mrs. Hamilton."

And as Y/n began to drift off to sleep, Lewis leaned into her hear, whispering almost to himself "I really did miss you. And I’m not going anywhere. Not for long anyway."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗘𝗚𝗚𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt uses his loss on the egg challenge as an excuse to reveal Y/N's pregnancy to his brothers.

WARNING: Pregnancy, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I've decided to post it today since it's Father's Day on Brazil! Unfortunately, I had to write it in a rush, so I'm sorry if it's not that good ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt, Nick, and Chris had spent the morning engaged in their latest YouTube challenge; a seemingly simple task of caring for an egg as if it were their own child. What had started as a lighthearted competition quickly turned into something more meaningful, though none of them knew it yet.

Nick leaned back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head, exuding confidence as he glanced at the table. His egg sat intact in front of him, a proud reminder of his victory. He smirked at Matt, who sat across from him, his egg conspicuously absent, the pieces of it having already been swept into the trash.

"Well, Matt, it looks like you lost." Nick teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. His grin widened, knowing exactly how to get under his brother's skin.

Chris, sitting at the other end of the table, tried to suppress his laughter but failed, the sound escaping as a snort. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Seriously, dude, how did you even have the courage to throw your egg after knowing that it was already cracked?"

But instead of a witty comeback or a defensive retort, Matt remained silent. His usually quick tongue was stilled, and his shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at the table in front of him. His brothers’ laughter echoed around the kitchen, but Matt seemed miles away.

From her spot by the kitchen counter, Y/N observed the scene unfold, her smile soft and her eyes filled with affection as she watched the brothers banter. She had always loved these moments, the way they could turn the simplest tasks into something fun and full of life. But today, something was different. Matt wasn’t joining in the laughter, and the silence coming from him made her heart tighten with concern.

Matt’s eyes met Y/N’s across the room, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity and worry as she noticed the unspoken emotion in his gaze. It wasn’t defeat or frustration over the challenge; it was something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat. What was he thinking? What was he hiding?

Nick’s voice cut through the tension, snapping Matt out of his thoughts.

"Come on, Matt, admit it. You’re just not cut out for fatherhood." Nick joked, his tone light but teasing.

Chris chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin.

"Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you’re not a dad yet."

The words, meant in jest, struck Matt like a physical blow. He inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to Y/N once more, and this time, her eyes widened in realization. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a small, unconscious gesture that Matt had seen her do countless times since they discovered the news. It was a habit she had developed; whenever she felt nervous, excited, or overwhelmed, her hand would rest there, a protective touch that spoke of the new life growing inside her.

Matt took a deep breath, turning his gaze back to his brothers.

"My egg 'broke,' so technically, I lost-" Matt began, his voice quiet, almost detached as he tried to find the right words.

Nick interrupted him, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he imitated Matt’s air quotes.

"'Broke'? Motherfucker, it broke." His voice was full of bewilderment, unsure of why Matt was choosing to word it that way.

But Matt wasn’t paying attention to Nick’s teasing anymore. He pushed back his chair and stood up, the scraping of the legs against the floor breaking the comfortable rhythm of the morning. All eyes were on him as he walked over to the counter, where Y/N stood, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. He leaned against the counter, positioning himself next to her, his hand brushing against hers in a silent exchange of comfort and support.

Nick and Chris exchanged puzzled glances, the playful atmosphere from moments ago now replaced with a sense of anticipation. Matt was rarely this serious, especially during their videos, and the change in his demeanor left them both on edge.

"What’s going on, Matt?" Chris asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied his brother.

Matt took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He and Y/N had talked about how to break the news to Nick and Chris for days. They had planned it out, imagined different scenarios, and rehearsed how it might go. But now, standing here in the kitchen with the camera still rolling, Matt realized that all those plans didn’t matter. There was no perfect way to tell them; there was only the truth.

"I didn’t lose." Matt said, his voice stronger now, filled with emotion that he could no longer hide. He took a step closer to Y/N, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. His eyes never left his brothers as he spoke. "My baby is safe and sound... right in the oven."

The words hung in the air for a moment, the meaning not immediately sinking in for Nick and Chris. They blinked, their expressions mirroring each other’s confusion as they tried to make sense of what Matt had just said.

"The oven?" Nick repeated, glancing around the kitchen. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Chris frowned, his gaze following Nick’s to the actual oven, which was clearly off.

"Matt, what are you-"

But before Chris could finish, Matt shook his head and smiled softly, a smile that held all the love and anticipation he had been carrying for weeks. He gently guided Y/N’s hand to her stomach, the gesture so tender and full of meaning that it spoke louder than any words ever could.

"The oven," Matt repeated, his voice a whisper now, thick with emotion. "Right here."

It was as if time stopped. Nick and Chris froze, their eyes widening in sync as the realization finally hit them. The weight of Matt’s words, the significance of the gesture; it all came crashing down on them at once.

"Wait... are you saying...?" Nick’s voice trailed off, the disbelief evident in every syllable.

Y/N looked up at Matt, her eyes shining with tears that she had been holding back for days. She nodded, her voice trembling with joy and nerves as she finally let the words out, the truth she had been dying to share.

"We’re pregnant." She whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "I’m pregnant."

For a heartbeat, the kitchen was silent. The camera continued to record, capturing every second of the moment that would change their lives forever.

And then, all at once, the emotions erupted.

Chris was the first to react. His eyes filled with tears that spilled over the rims, his face a mix of shock, joy, and overwhelming love. He stood up so abruptly that his chair almost fell, forgotten as he crossed the room in two long strides. Without a word, he pulled Matt and Y/N into a tight embrace, his arms encircling them both as he buried his face in Matt’s shoulder, his body trembling with sobs.

"Oh my God." Chris whispered, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions. "I can’t believe it. You’re going to be a dad, Matt. And Y/N... you’re going to be a mom."

Y/N found herself laughing through her own tears, the sound mixing with her soft sobs as she wrapped her arms around Chris, resting her head against his. She could feel Matt’s warm hand on her back, holding her close, grounding her in the moment.

"We were going to tell you guys differently, but..." Y/N’s voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as she tried to speak. Her lip quivered as she bit down on it, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over.

Nick, who had been frozen in shock, finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Matt, then at Y/N, and back to Matt again, as if needing to confirm that this was real. His eyes were wide, his jaw slack, but then, slowly, a wide, joyous grin spread across his face.

"Holy shit!" Nick exclaimed, his voice full of excitement as he jumped up from his chair, his movements so sudden that it clattered to the floor. He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the fact that his brother was going to be a father. That they were going to be uncles.

Nick rushed over to join the group hug, wrapping his arms around the three of them and squeezing as hard as he could, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotions.

"This is insane! I can’t believe we’re going to be uncles. Oh my God, Chris, we’re going to be uncles!"

Chris pulled back just enough to look at Nick, their faces mirroring the same shock and joy.

"Yes, you are." Y/N whispered, her voice filled with warmth and love. "You and Chris are going to be the best uncles in the world."

Matt couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He let them fall freely as he wrapped his arms around his brothers, holding them tight, feeling a surge of love and gratitude that left him breathless. This wasn’t the way they had planned it, but it felt right. It felt perfect. He could feel Chris’s shoulders shaking as he cried, and when he finally pulled back to look at his brothers, he saw the same tears in Nick’s eyes.

Chris wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a huge, teary grin spreading across his face.

"You sneaky bastards." He said, his voice still thick with his crying. "You kept this from us!"

"We wanted to surprise you." Matt said, finally finding her voice again, though it was still shaky with laughter and tears. "But I just couldn’t wait."

Nick looked at him, his grin turning mischievous.

"So, technically, you didn’t lose the challenge, huh?"

Matt chuckled, shrugging as he looked at the Y/N glued to his side.

"Nope, I didn’t lose. I think I actually won something even better."

Chris wiped at his eyes again, sniffling as he looked at Y/N, his expression soft and full of love.

"You two are going to be amazing parents. This little one is so lucky to have you."

Y/N reached out and took Chris’s hand, squeezing it tightly as she smiled through her tears.

"Thank you, Chris. That means the world to us."

Nick clapped his hands together, the grin never leaving his face.

"Well, I guess this calls for a celebration, huh? Let’s order some food and make this the best day ever."

They all agreed, the room filling with the sound of their joy, and as they gathered around the kitchen table, Matt couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

He looked at Y/N, who was beaming at him, her eyes still sparkling with tears, and ge couldn’t help but think that this was the best video they’d ever made; not because of the challenge, but because it captured a moment that would change their lives forever.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments

"this has to be the best twist ever 😭😭 I was NOT expecting Matt to drop that bombshell at ALLLL"

"omg, they're going to be such amazing parents 🥺"

"chris’s reaction had me in TEARS!!! the way he just broke down crying when he realized he’s going to be an uncle… this is why I love them so much, they're so genuine 😞"

"nick’s face when he finally understood what matt meant by ‘the oven’ LMAOOO"

"FUCK NO, I was laughing so hard during the egg challenge, and then I ended up crying when matt revealed Y/N is pregnant 🤧"

"matt is going to be the greatest dad out there, I just know it 🙏🏻"

"who cares about a fucking broken egg when you’ve got a real baby on the way 😩"

"when matt said the baby was in the oven, I thought he was joking about the egg, I did NOT see that coming 🤡"

"please guys, let me in the group hug 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻"

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zainabthescientist @littlemisswhore

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[bloodxbat]

Heyyy, could you do an NSFW fic with Spencer where it’s best friends to lovers and they’re roommates and maybe it’s a really hot day and readers barely wearing anything and Spencer can’t control himself etc 🫶🫶

Hey Anon! absolutely I can!! I had so much fun writing this, I've not written a fan fiction in so long so I hope this is ok!!

My requests and taglist are open so feel free to send me a wee message!!

Hope you enjoy the fic :))

Can’t Control Myself

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut!!! 18+, MDNI, P IN V sex, unprotected, creampie, oral (fem), best friends to lovers, swearing! Dom Spence, Praise, Marking kink, all the good stuff 

Reblogs help me stay motivated to keep writing fics! :))

Taglist: @writing-wh0re Message to be added 

Word Count: 2,649

Prompt(s) used: none

Summary: You and Spencer have been best friends for 3 years, you’ve lived together for almost 2 now. Spencer has always had a ‘’thing’’ for you but has always been way too shy to admit it. On a particularly hot day he loses control of himself over the clothes (or lack thereof) you’re wearing. 

Masterlist

The apartment you and Spencer shared was small, which made this weather even more unbearable. Books piling up, almost touching the ceiling keeping in all the heat, stopping cold fresh air from coming in. Any outfit you put on was just sticking to your skin in an instant. The fabrics attach themselves as if they were part of your skin. You huff out a frustrated sigh as you peel off yet another outfit that suffocated you in this heat. 

Throwing your wardrobe all over your room trying to find the loosest outfit you owned you finally found something. ‘Please let this one help, please’ you thought to yourself as you pulled on the clothes. 

You’d found a black short-sleeved crop top, so short that it barely covered your tits when you lifted your arms, and a pair of loose fabric shorts that showed off the underside of your ass accenting its curves under them. A sigh escapes your lips, you sway your hips and air brushes itself up your skin giving temporary relief from the heat. 

Finally having found your outfit you make your way out your room and down the small hall leading to the living room/kitchen to grab a cup of ice cold water. Spencer was sitting on the brown leather couch that took up the centre of the room in front of the TV, which was not switched on of course as Spencer would never ‘’waste his free time watching that thing’’. You chuckled to yourself as you noticed he was reading The Odyssey for the hundredth time it felt. 

Brushing your hand over his shoulders you greet him 

‘’Hey Spence’’ you smile walking into the kitchen area.

Spencer looks up from his book feeling your slight friendly touch, turning round to see you in the kitchen. You were stretching up on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard where the glasses were kept. His eyes went wide, your crop top and short had rode up your body at the movement. Exposing your skin, your curves, your perfection. He had never seen so much of you before. 

‘’H-hi Y/N’’ he manages to stutter out, clearing his throat.

‘’The Odyssey again Spence?’’ You ask not looking at him as you grab ice from the freezer, bending over in front of him. 

Was this a dream, his eyes didn’t leave you, devouring your body. His mouth was salivating, he wanted too much to know how you tasted, how you felt. He hadn’t even processed your question before you were walking over to him, glass in hand waving in front of his eyes.

‘’Earth to Spencer’’ You chuckle

‘’S-sorry I lost track- wh-what did you uhm whatdidyousay?’’

‘’I asked if you were seriously reading The Odyssey again? Does it not bore you?’’

‘’Yes i’m reading it again and no of course it doesn’t bore me, this is one of the greatest classics of all time!’’

You chuckle at his passion for the book. Taking a seat next to him, taking the book out his hands, your fingers brushing his skin slightly, such a small gesture but enough that his vision was turning blurry and his mind racing. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin so you looked up at him. 

Spencer was wearing a white loose fitting linen shirt, the top button undone exposing the skin of his chest to you, and brown hemp trousers. Even in this heat he still tries his best to look professional, even from the comfort of his own apartment.

‘’Everything ok Spencer?’’ Your voice filled with genuine concern, looking at your friend he doesn’t seem quite himself. He is normally hyper focused, aware of every surroundings, given the nature of his job, it's not paranoia it's just…him, but now he seems distracted.

‘’I-’’ Spencer licks his lips trying to think of the words, the right words to tell you how he really feels. How all these years he has found you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. How he’s up late at night thinking about you, what he could do to you, how he could make you scream his name. How you would feel pinned below him. He could feel himself begin to grow at the thought, your touch bringing him out of his thoughts. 

You placed your hand on his arm, stroking your thumb along his skin. Waiting patiently for him to answer. His deep brown eyes caught yours, god his eyes were beautiful, you could stare into them all day. You felt strange thinking of your friend this way but it also felt so right. You couldn’t deny that Spencer Reid wasn’t attractive, he wasn’t named ‘pretty boy’ for nothing because he certainly was that. 

‘’You’re driving me crazy’’ Spencer says suddenly, his voice low and raspy.

‘’W-what?’’ your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden boldness.

‘’You heard me pretty girl’’ his eyes stare holes into yours with burning passion ‘’You’re driving me. Crazy’’ he emphasises the last word. 

Spencer shuffles closer to you, grabbing your hand and taking it off its place on his arm. The cool air touching your palm from where his warm skin used to be moments before. Your eyes never leave his, as you watch him lick his lips once more. 

‘’Wearing this outfit, practically naked…fuck’’ he groans

Spencer rarely swears in fact you've only ever heard him swear when he clumsily bumps his head off of a shelf. My god it was hot, those types of words just rolling off his tongue.

‘’It’s getting harder to control myself around you Y/N, ever since I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. 3 years, for 3 long years i’ve not stopped thinking about you, thinking how you would feel, how you would-’ he paused letting his eyes roam over you ‘how you would taste’’

His words cause a heat to form in between your legs, a wetness forming on your shorts. It was only then you notice the bulge appearing in Spencer's trousers, the zip practically about to burst up against him. 

‘’Why don’t you come and find out’’ You don’t know where this bold side of you came from but the way it turned the expression on Spencer's face to complete lust, his eyes growing darker from your words. You hope that the image burned itself into your eyes so you would never forget it. 

Without hesitation his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, his lips were so smooth and inviting, they felt so familiar to you, like they were meant to be on yours and only yours. You could feel his tongue graze your bottom lip slightly wanting more you open your mouth inviting him in. Your tongues dance at first, softly brushing over each other, he tasted of coffee, humming against him at the taste. The kiss became more hungry, tongues battling for dominance which Spencer of course won. 

He pushed you down so you were beneath him on the couch, his hands grazing up your sides causing you to shiver. His hands reached your breasts that lay under your shirt, his fingers found their way to your hard nipples, pinching them softly. Your back arched up into him as you moaned softly at the sensation. You could feel him pulse onto you through his trousers at your noises. 

‘’That feel good?’’ he smirks, his lips travelling down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking and biting. 

‘’Mhmm, p-please spence’’ you hand made its way into his golden brown curly hair that stuck to the nape of his neck from sweat, tugging slightly as he continued to kiss down your neck. Ripping your shirt off of you to get a better look at your body beneath him.

‘’Fuck’’ he groaned, his eyes taking in every inch of your exposed skin. ‘’So fucking beautiful why didn’t I confess sooner’’ 

Before you could say anything his lips are back on you, attacking your skin sucking every inch he could find leaving red marks behind him. 

‘’S-spence’’ You gasp at all the marks

‘’Shh, I’m marking you as mine, d’you understand me? Everyones gonna know who you belong too’’

His words were like sex itself to your ears, the very thought of everyone being able to see that he had his way with you causing a pool to form soaking your thighs. Your fingers made their way to his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt pushing the material off his shoulders. His chest was so smooth and toned, your eyes roamed over the sight in front of you causing Spencer to smirk. 

‘’Like what you see?’’ he says

All you can do is nod, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, then looking into his lust filled eyes. 

‘’Good- because it’s all yours angel’’ 

It didn’t take long before the rest of your clothes were discarded on the floor. Both of you tangled in a hot mess on the couch skin sticking to the leather beneath. Spencer started to train his kisses along your chest. Teasing your already hard nipples with his tongue, soft moans spilling out your mouth. He continues his way down further, nestling his head between your thighs, wrapping his arms under you keeping you in place. 

Feathering kisses on your inner thighs, nipping at the soft skin slightly, your back arching up into him. Silently begging for more. 

‘’Need you to use your words if you want something angel’’ He continues to kiss your soft skin.

‘’P-please Spencer’’ 

‘’Please what?’’

‘’I n-need you please’’

‘’Want me to taste you angel is that what you want?’’

He wasn’t continuing until he got confirmation from you. 

‘’Mhmm’’ you nod, looking down at him. The sight of him looking up at you through your thighs drove you crazy.

Without warning Spencer slammed his lips against your heat. Lewd noises filling your small shared flat. His tongue sliding between your wet folds, lapping up every bit of you, savouring your sweet salty taste. Spencer could’ve came right there, he groaned onto you as he sucked on your clit, causing vibrations to shoot right through you. Waves of pleasure bringing you to the edge. 

Who knew Dr Spencer Reid was so damn good with his tongue. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer to you as you neared release. 

‘’Fuck Spencer oh my-’’ You moaned breathlessly. 

‘’Taste. So. fucking. Good.’’ Spencer said between licks. Not wanting to be away from your heat for even a second. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him. 

‘’You gonna cum angel? Go on, cum on my tongue, wanna taste you so fucking bad’’

His words sent you over the edge. The knot in your stomach unleashing as you reached your high all over his face. Waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your legs going limp, that was the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. Spencer moaned onto you as he hungrily lapped up all of your juices. He pulls back, his chin glistening with you all over him, licking his lips before crawling up to be face to face with you.

‘’Good girl’’ he groans softly before taking your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue. 

Spencer's hard length brushed up your folds. The sensation causes you to shiver. His tip was red, angry, needing attention. He positioned himself outside your hole. 

‘’Gonna fuck you now angel, otherwise i’ll lose control’’

‘’Please- please fuck me’’ desperation on your tongue. Hearing you talk to him like this drove Spencer crazy. Knowing he was the one to make you this way. Slurring your words with absolute pleasure. 

He slowly thrust forward, stretching you out. Your mouth hung open at his size, it felt unlike you've ever felt before, pain, pleasure, it was almost overwhelming. You gripped onto Spencer's skin so tight, your nails dug into his flesh leaving crescent shapes. Silent moans falling from your mouth as your foreheads touched together. 

‘'M’gonna move now angel ok?’’ Spencer groaned

He slowly pulled out, almost all the way before thrusting back into you, he was so deep you could feel him in your stomach. That first thrust forced out the most sinful moan, the noise going straight to Spencer's cock, he practically collapsed into your neck. He continued to thrust in and out of your wet cunt, the sounds of skin slapping filling the air. 

‘’Mm oh- fuck Y/N, so fucking tight’’ 

His pace quickened, your body shaking with pleasure. You didn’t care how loud you were being, you wanted people to know who you belonged to, who made you feel this way. Spencer's mouth was beside your ear, whimpering and moaning with every thrust he made into you. Your walls clench around him with every noise he made. 

‘’I’m not gonna last if you keep tightening around me sweetheart’’

‘’Please- wanna feel you’’

‘’What do you wanna feel angel?’’

He never stopped thrusting into you, he was going unbearably fast, you were definitely going to have a few bruises tomorrow. 

‘’Cum S-spencer, please gotta feel it’’

Your words cause blood to rush straight to his length.

‘’Fuck Y/N where do you want me to cum hmm? Getting so fucking close’’

‘’I-inside Spence, p-lease’’

‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’Yes- please need to feel it, fill me up Spencer please’’

He would like nothing more.

‘’Whatever you want, angel’’ he groaned, continuing to pound into you. He was so close, both of you breathless and sweating all over each other. Your eyes lock, both mouths agape with pleasure. Spencer's eyes turn dark, they turn lustful, he is close. You push yourself up against him more. 

‘’Fuck’’ He almost shouts, moaning loud as he releases thick white ropes into you, coating your twitching walls. The feeling of him cumming into you causing you to reach your second release. Eyes rolling to the back of your head with pleasure, you didn’t realise you were drooling over yourself. Spencer reached his thumb up, wiping it away, still inside you, waiting for both of you to catch your breath before pulling out. 

Spencer focussing on your convulsing hole watching as his cum spilled out of you, the sight almost enough to make him ready for round two. He got up and grabbed a damp cloth cleaning you both up, before pulling you into his arms.

‘’That was-’’ You begin still breathless and speechless from what you just did.

‘’Amazing’’ he finished your sentence for you.

‘’How long?’’ you asked, looking up at him, tracing shapes on his exposed glistening chest ‘’How long have you felt this way?’’

‘’Honestly- since the day I met you’’ he confessed, all you could do was stare at him with a smile creeping on your face. 

‘’I was too scared to say anything, I didn't want to ruin the friendship we had, you were, are, too special for me to lose’’ Your heart warming at this confession.

‘’But seeing you in that outfit…I just couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, I'm just glad you feel the same way’’ He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You grab his face and lightly kiss him on the lips. Sighing into him pressing your foreheads together. 

‘’I’m glad I chose this outfit then’’ You chuckle leaning your head up against his shoulder. 

You both stayed there, naked on the couch, holding each other. You convinced Spencer to watch TV with you, he actually enjoyed the show but he would never admit it. Neither of you got up to put clothes on, it was too warm for that. 

You fell asleep watching TV snuggled into him, your soft snores peeling Spencer’s eyes away from the screen. Not wanting to wake you he just smiled and kissed you softly.

‘’Good night Angel’’ he whispered.

[saetoru]

Tee 🥹 so RB Gojo always shows up to YNs house unexpectedly or wants her to come over. What if one day out of the blue, like 2 am she shows up at his house in tears due to stress. And for once he can be the caretaker and dependable one. And then she falls asleep in his arms arms and he gets to be the big spoon for once. I could see her whispering “you’re it for me too” while thinking he’s asleep.- dabitee anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BEFORE & AFTER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, stressed reader :(, comfort, cheesy banter lol i tried ok, slightly based off of this drabble

notes. dabitee anon. babie u are my biggest rb! gojo inspo u always think of the sweetest lil moments between them sobsss i adore you sm

sometimes, gojo forgets you're not always put together. sometimes, you struggle to get assignments finished, and sometimes you don't wake up for work on the first alarm, and sometimes studying is too much to handle no matter how determined you are for an A.

"thinking about me this late, sweetheart?" he grins as soon as he picks up your call, laying back on one arm as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn't expect to see you call at two am, but you do—and when he hears the short, wet sniffle through the phone, he doesn't waste a moment to sit up. "sweetheart? you good?"

"toru can you let me in?" you ask quietly. gojo feels every crack in your voice pierce into his chest—it's rare for you to need him like this. he thinks he's always needed you more than you've needed him, truthfully. you've always opened doors after he's stormed out on his father, you've always laced your fingers after arguments with suguru, and you've always rubbed his back when he's hunched over toilets after one too many drinks.

when was the last time you've let yourself need gojo? he doesn't have the time to even try and remember, his feet carrying him over to open his front door quietly. and it's you—you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks, you with tired dark circles and wobbly lips. it's you, but it's not the you he knows, the one he's used to.

the one good thing about gojo satoru is he always knows how to talk—he speaks enough for two, knows how to fill the silence when you can't bring yourself to speak. his arms tug you into his chest before you can open your mouth to explain.

"did you drive all the way here with those watery eyes?" he hums, "wanted to see me that bad? it's dangerous driving like that, baby."

"didn't wanna be alone," you mumble, sniffling into his chest. his hands are big—they're good for rubbing slow circles into your back, the warmth of his palm seeping in through your shirt and pressing against your skin.

"i'd have come if you texted me," he hums, "'m always up, anyway. you know i was beating suguru's ass in mortal combat? he owes me a burger."

"you can afford one yourself, idiot," you huff, making him chuckle. something about the low rumble of his chest against your cheek makes the tears flow a little faster—not because you feel worse, but because it's safe enough that you can.

sometimes, you forget gojo isn't that spoiled and whiny handful you love to call him. sometimes, you're reminded that he's used to being alone, that carrying emotions enough for two is his forte. your cheek presses harder against his chest, like you could bury yourself inside of him like that, like hiding away in his ribcage is where you're safest from the rest of the world. maybe it is—maybe all you need is him to make it safe.

"who's got my baby crying the night before an 8 am class?" he asks softly, “i’ll punch ‘em.”

“what if i say you, will you punch yourself?”

“for you, always,” he nods seriously.

he knows how to ask these things like that: like it's not heavy, like you can make a light-hearted joke or two so that you're not drowning in your own vulnerability. sometimes, you forget that gojo is no stranger to hiding his own vulnerability, that he knows how to hide it under a playful grin and a cheeky laugh.

"that group assignment's due soon and no one's done anything yet but me, and i had to pick up an extra shift to cover for someone, and that quiz coming up is apparently super hard, and my electricity bill was high this month and i don't know why, and....and—"

"okay," he hums, "the electricity might've been me," he says with a quiet chuckle, "i always forget to turn the lights off. I'll handle it, yeah?"

"but—"

"it's not paying for you," he cuts you off, "it's paying you back. there's a difference. now c'mon. i make good hot chocolate."

"it's out of a packet," you sniffle, lips curled into a pout as his thumb swipes away at your tears. he traces the swell of your cheek before pinching it lightly, making you huff.

"hey," he gasps, "it's special because i put extra chocolate in it! it's my secret ingredient."

"it's not a secret if it's the main ingredient, toru," you mumble, letting his fingers thread with yours as he tugs you along to follow him.

"do you just live to correct me?" he whines, "can't i have one thing?"

and when he hears that soft, breathy little giggle from you, he smiles to himself, the ache of his chest calming just a little. you think gojo could always do that if he tried—pull a small laugh or two out of you even if the world was crumbling around you, keep your lips curved up even as everything goes wrong.

he's enough to forget about that damn project, and that extra shift, and that absurd quiz, and that distressing bill. maybe it's in the way he makes the whipped cream look like a crooked heart in your mug, or the way he burns his tongue as he takes a sip too fast, or the way he swings your arm as he drags you to his room, or the way he wriggles his brows at you as he takes his shirt off before bed, or the way he presses that delicate, sweet, careful little kiss to your forehead as you lay on his chest.

because he has to be enough, he thinks as he holds you, he has to be good enough for you that he outweighs every bad thing you'll ever deal with. he wonders if you know you're it for him, if you know that no one else could fill the spot you've wormed your way into unknowingly. he realizes it that night you hold him, the same night you didn't scold him for ruining your sleep, the same night he finds his way to you when it feels like every road is blocked.

and when the roads are blocked you find your way to him too. so he lays quietly under your cheek, feeling your fingers trace those slow hearts into his skin as he hears you murmur, "i think you're it for me too, toru."

his brows furrow—and then he realizes you must have heard him that night, just like he's hearing you now. a small part of him wants to laugh at the odds, at the way you both can't bring yourselves to say it when you're sure you'll hear each other. the other part of him thinks maybe you were always supposed to find each other, that you were always meant to stay awake and hear hushed words that are supposed to be secrets.

but then you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, like you know he's awake. oh, he realizes, you've always known, haven't you?

"oh yeah?" he asks, "what if someone cuter and funnier comes along?"

you giggle—not one trace of stress or fear or defeat on your features, not with him there. "i met suguru and still chose you," you tease, making his gasp in disbelief.

"that's so mean," he whines, "i made you hot chocolate with extra chocolate! you can't say my best friend is cuter. and for the record, i'm way funnier than him."

"i'm kidding," you grin, pinching his cheek. "i love you. thank you," you add quietly.

"love you too," he kisses your temple. sometimes, gojo forgets what it was like before you—and he doesn't really want to remember.

atp rich boy! gojo is just his own character to me sjfjsjfj i’ve just created a whole new dude in my head with the same irritating blue eyes

[pseudowho]

okay here’s me getting all cocky and confident because you answered my ask once (ily for that seriously i think i screamed and fainted and sobbed and climbed up the walls a little) and once again asking you for….. for crumbs………. so my horny self was sitting and thinking…………… nanami sees you reading absolute filth and porn and you end up in biig trouble.. (i.e him doing that exact thing to you 😭) or perhaps you going up to nanami after reading absolute filth and being all needy with him bcs that straight porn made you a liittle…….. yk… 🌚🌚🌚

anyways i literally love you and ur my favorite writer ever and im gonna stop now before i burst

SMUT [smuht] (noun)

In which Nanami Kento catches you reading dirty literature...and punishes you with a performative reading.

Warnings: The anon who keeps targeting me like this needs a warning label...but otherwise: roleplay, erotic literature (*laughs and laughs in Tumblr*) being read to you while you're systematically destroyed, performative Bad!Nanami, Kento fucks you wearing a mask and leather gloves, Pleasure Dom!Kento who gets lost in the sauce, reader way out of her depth, bondage, the usual spicy goodness, couple of cheeky movie references

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The one she knew only as the Man in the Mask swept over to her, delighting in her capture, having evaded him for so long.

"Ahhh..." he sighed, his breath sweeping over the swell of her breasts, and sending shivers down her spine. "Finally...the little mouse who has wreaked havoc on my dreams for too many lonely nights. How does it feel? To be trapped here with me like this?"

Her heart stalled in her chest, and she gasped, his grazing touch to her belly leaving embers in its wake. The Man in the Mask saw her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and felt something snap inside him as he loomed over her with a whisper; "I know. I feel it too."

With little warning, he lowered his barely covered mouth to her neck, hungry against her, and--

The door opened, and you leapt out of your skin, dropping your phone to the floor. You sat bolt upright in bed, your other hand coming up guiltily from beneath the covers as Kento leaned into the bedroom to greet you. You interrupted him.

"You're home early," you said, offering an unconvincing smile. Kento looked at you, flatly. He let the statement hang for a moment. His shrewd eyes flicked, taking in the glossy subtleties he saw from you only in foreplay.

"...well I thought you'd be pleased, but I'll just go back then shall I--"

You hesitated, words caught in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your phone. So did Kento's. His eyes narrowed.

"...what are you read--"

"Nothing! It's nothing." You lied, unconvincing. You both hesitated for a moment more, before Kento darted. You cursed at him for being faster than you, and Kento's fingers closed around your phone, sitting beside you on the bed in one swift movement. You smothered a pillow over your face, screaming silently, wanting the duvet to grow great maws and swallow you whole.

Kento read silently for a moment, scrolling, before reading aloud; "...she didn't want to fight anymore, as his fingers slid between her puffy lips...goodness me...his cock strained against the fabric of his clothes, begging for attention...I bet it did..."

You had begun to crawl away down the bed, just a maggot, unworthy of the sun and all its glories.

You felt a hand clasp around your ankle, and you squeaked as Kento dragged you back up the bed, without even taking his eyes off your phone.

"I don't think so, where are you going--"

"--oh god Kento just give me something for the cringe and let me die--"

"--no no no I'm blessed to be a part of my wife's interests--"

"--I am less than human, we need a divorce, I can't look you in the eye ever again--"

Kento scoffed, dark and derisive. "As if I'd let you divorce me. As if you'd even want to...now, where did I put that..."

Kento stood, still holding your phone as he rummaged in his dresser. You laid flat to the bed, trying to wiggle away again, still embarrassingly wet, your mortification laced with undeniable arousal.

"Stay exactly where you are, or I'll damn well make you."

You stopped. You looked up at Kento, unusually meek, as he approached you. He stood by the bed, looming and powerful, a god made flesh. He unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, not bothering to remove his harness. He undid his belt with a clink-clink. He let his tie hang loose...and pulled a black balaclava down to beneath his collar. He finished off with a pair of soft, black leather gloves.

Something imploded inside you; a dial-up noise in your mind. Kento prowled over to you, looming over you and chasing you up the bed, caging you beneath him, and reading through the smut on your phone screen.

"Be honest," Kento read aloud, his honey-brown eyes swirling with something altogether darker and more dangerous, "if you'd wanted to escape me...you could have."

You panted, breathless, your pupils blown into inky black as you lay splayed beneath Kento. You couldn't help but be captivated, lost in his insidious pull. You felt your heartbeat between your legs.

"Did you stay because you dream of me, too?" Kento intoned. You bit the poisoned apple, trembling as you nodded up at him. "Did you stay...because you wondered if hatred was as erotic a passion as love?"

"--Kento, I-- let me go, I--"

"That's the spirit." Laughed Kento, his voice booming through you, the vibrations crackling across every nerve, and you whimpered. Kento grasped your hands together with his own, gloved and powerful, pinning them above your head with the whole weight of his body. He pulled his tie loose with the hand holding your phone.

"I can't let you leave...not now. Fuck...you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" Kento growled. Being the villain seemed so effortless to him. Your safe word had never been further from your mind, your attempts to leave so paltry and insincere. The way Kento looked down at you, waiting to see if you would make him stop, sent shivers down your spine. Kento released his tie, eyes skimming across your phone for confirmation.

"I'd apologise, for trapping you here like this..." Kento intoned, tying your bound wrists to the head of the bed as you squirmed, crying out in anguish, "...but I'll show you...how you've craved my touch, just as I have craved yours." You strained against the bonds, in just the silky chemise you wore for bed, and it didn't take much for your breasts to fall free of the fine little straps.

In truth, Kento had never been harder in his life. Seeing you battle against primal desire beneath him, feeling your half-hearted embarrassed squirms brushing your bare mound against his aching, thick cock...and your nipples, hard as diamonds and covered by a thin veneer of lace. His breaths were heavy, chest heaving as he continued his performative reading.

"Just one taste, and we can return to how it was before." Kento groaned, his mouth suckling at your neck, licking, tasting, biting. You cringed against the assault on your senses, afraid to lose yourself to such diabolical pleasure. Kento pinned your bucking hips down with his own, the tip of his cock trapped beneath his waistband against his belly. "Just once...and we can rest easy at night, knowing how it feels for me to spend myself inside you."

You keened, mewling as Kento rested the phone on the pillow beside your head, and took your nipple into his mouth, ragging it around beneath his tongue with a fractured growl. Your head spun with the weight of him, totally captured, so wildly out of control. The suckling pleasure he gave to your nipples, connected in a fine thread to your clit, making it pulse with vicarious bliss.

"I can't...can't take it anymore...Ken--" You moaned, squeaking as his teeth closed in barely hinged warning around your breast.

"Unless it's to tell me to fuck you, I won't have you mewl like a kitten at me any longer." Kento rumbled against your breast, wet with his spit and the marks he left behind as he took what he was owed. "I hope you can take it. I'm...no small man. If you are ruined, after, I know you will bear the scars with grace, just as you have bore your hatred of me."

You were already so steeped in the hot rush of being pleasured, you did not notice how Kento's eyes glowered, lathering down your body and darting occasionally back to your phone. He continued his pilgrimage down your body. Kento growled in frustration at the chemise blocking him, and he rucked it up, spitting curses as you squeaked, wriggling against him.

"At least fight like you mean it." Kento laughed, and you blushed, eyes squeezed shut, mortified by how obviously faked your resistance was. Kento kissed his way down your belly, settling at your mound. He hovered, silent, giving your desperate clit nought but the breath from his lips.

"Do you want my fingers...or my mouth?" You whimpered again, babbling nonsense, such a rough and ruined heroine. Kento laughed again, dark and delicious, raising his mask just enough to free his mouth. "No words? No matter. You shall have both."

With little warning, Kento sunk his tongue between your folds, ragging his mouth and nose from side to side again to bury himself in the heat of you. You cried out as he growled into your heat, hitting a high note as he sunk two thick, gloved fingers into your fluttering pussy, slamming inside all the way to his knuckles.

Kento swore against your pussy, grunting and moaning as he lapped at your clit and entrance with animalistic rage. Quite canonically to his role, his cock wept against his belly, pre-cum leaking down onto his waistband until the fabric was cloying and sticky, the friction against his tip sending him spiralling. He couldn't help but fuck against the bed as you melted beneath him, writhing against his tongue.

Panting, letting his gloved fingers fuck into you and imagining it was his cock instead, Kento chuckled against your clit, at just how easily he had snapped. He pulled his fingers out of you for a moment, wickedly obsessed by the stark contrast of your creamy white arousal on the black leather.

He could smell you on the balaclava, the fabric over his nose soaking with your essence. Kento felt lightheaded with the blooming, heady scent of you. His cock twitched, aching and neglected, and so close to spilling thick spurts of seed all over its owner.

You risked looking down for just a moment. The eyes of a villain pierced through you, as Kento licked his gloves clean, not breaking eye contact once. You whimpered. He laughed, and curled his fingers back into you, continuing his relentless attack on your poor, aching cunt. Your moans reached a fever pitch, and Kento felt the creep of his own orgasm through his belly as he rutted against the bed with total abandon.

"Sing for me." He groaned, lifting your hips off the bed as he knelt, sucking your clit into his mouth in a devastating final move. You tipped violently over the edge, bucking against his tongue and crying his name, a stream of nonsensical babbles. Kento was quite sure you came harder than the girl in the story.

By the time you came back to earth, being licked in slow, languid movements through your peak, you saw Kento kneeling between your legs, stroking his cock in long, jerking pumps.

"You've reduced me to this." Kento forced, his teeth gritted and his mask back in place over his mouth. "To this...this boy, fucking his own fist just from the taste of you." Kento cursed, his gloved fist wet with pre-cum, cracking his neck from side to side and growling through his lurid tale. You lay, fucked out, bound, a fascinated by how Kento's whiskey-rich voice could fill you with fumes, warm and drunk one minute, but cold and piercing the next. You swung, manoeuvred across his harsh dichotomy.

Kento loomed over you, trapping you beneath him again, blocking the light from your eyes, a bad moon rising. "You did this to me." He hissed, accusatory in his possession of you. "You started this sordid fight. But I'll finish it. No more fisting my cock at night just to the thought of you. No more dreaming about bending you to my will."

You felt Kento's tip press through your entrance, thick and insistent enough that you squirmed up the bed, crying out as he yanked you back, his hands closing around your waist. Kento plaited his fingers in your tied hands, the ghost of affection, and readying himself to slam into your quivering heat. He was falling apart, he could barely contain himself, overcome by the raw power of making you pliable, shaping you to his desires--

Kento whispered in your ear, his voice shaking, gravelly; "And when you submit...know that it was entirely your fault."

You felt your delicate petals forced aside, crying out to be filled to the brim by Kento in one slick thrust. Kento could barely suppress a roar beneath his mask, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His enormous hands cuffed your waist, making it squidge down against your hips every time he dragged your hips, moving your pussy around him like a cock sleeve.

Kento's strength made manhandling you look easy. You lay ruined beneath him, your head lolling against the inside of your own bound arm. The image of him unbuttoned, masked, gloved and still almost fully dressed above you, grunting and groaning as he used your pussy for his own pleasure, burned onto your retinas.

Kento barely moved his own hips, his eyes fixed feverishly on where he dragged your swollen pussy around the length of his cock, twitching and burning inside you. He couldn't contain himself. The hook behind his navel, all scorched steel and selfishness, beseeched him to drag his pleasure from you.

"Fucking-- ruin you-- never be satisfied...by another man again-- keep running from me, and I'll hunt you down...and take you like this every-- fucking-- time--"

As Kento's pleasure roared over him, he punctuated his thrusts against your belly with the written word in action. Making nothing more than jolted, pitiful moans as he fucked repeatedly against your sensitive cervix and soft-spot, you clambered for purchase, sobbing your pleasure as his gloved fingers rolled your clit between them.

Kento came with a string of curses, his thighs cramping beneath him with the force of it. Feeling his seed begin to pump and spurt into you, he dragged you aggressively to another orgasm with his leathered fingers. He had to feel you clench around him, sucking his seed deep inside you. He had just enough forethought to recall his final, toxic line as he gasped, groaning and bucking with the force of his ejaculation.

You could barely hear him through the fog of pleasure, faint in the distance; "If you have the nerve...to crawl back to me...full and swollen-- know we can be enemies in matrimony, as well as battle."

The room was hushed and dark, the gloom broken only by your mingled, heavy breaths, and the earthy smell of sex. You reached up pulling Kento's balaclava up and pressing a breathless little kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"...but...we still have to get a divorce. I just-- couldn't live with you knowing what I read--"

Kento laughed, his shoulders aching from the weight of the villain, slipping away with his gloves and mask.

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

[district4loading]

Blonde

Twice Sana x Male Reader

6K Words

Content Warning: angst, mentions of cheating, hate sex, possessive sana, breeding kink

Minors DNI

A/N: I've been wanting to write something about THIS^ Sana for a while now but I didn't really know where I wanted to go with the plot. That is until anon requested an interesting kinda angsty and toxic dynamic between reader and Sana.

From anon - "hear me out POSSESSIVE POWER BOTTOM SANA WITH A BREEDING KINK BUT WONT LET IT SHOW BECAUSE SHE’S A FUCKING BRAT AND YOU HATE HER BUT NOT HER BODY"

apologies to anon because I went a tad bit off script..

-

She's fucking blonde.

-

You don't know how you could ever allow Minatozaki Sana to ruin your life.

She's only five foot four and just a little over a hundred pounds but the heavy weight of her presence always seems to anchor you and keep you in her grip. You're broken up, you've been broken up for three months now. You made the decision to go no contact and completely cut her out of your life. It was the betrayal, the lying, the manipulating that acted as the final nail in the coffin, killing and burying any real love you had left for her. Now it's all bitter hatred.

It's taken you a while to get where you are. From thinking about her every day to only thinking of her maybe once a week. From not being able to listen to the songs you used to listen to together to merely flinching when they played on the radio. You weren't going to let memories of her turn the once normal parts of your life sour.

That's what you think right up until your doorbell rings.

You quirk your eyebrow and look up from your phone, wondering who could be at your door at five in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Package? No. Doordash? I wish. A friend? Maybe. You begin thinking of the possibilities as you walk the short distance from your computer to your front door. First you look through the peephole but you're only able to see your neighbors door. "Did I order something?" You mutter to yourself, checking your phone for a moment to see if you missed any emails.

Then you finally unlock your door and open it when you see that there was no email. You look down then you poke your head out, looking left then.. right. Your lips part and your eyebrows furrow as you try to process what the hell you're seeing in front of you right now. Or rather who. It takes you a minute to recognize that it's Sana and that's because something about her is different.

She's fucking blonde.

You're at a complete loss for words because you haven't seen or talked to her in months and now she's in front of you, staring into your soul with a fucking smirk on her face. She notices your gaze, full of confused awe and she thinks it's a good thing. "You like it? I did it for you" Her bottom lip juts out as she looks into your eyes.

"What..What are you doing here?" You begin to stammer as you ignored her question, having to remind yourself to breathe. She's just a girl.

"Are you saying I need a reason to visit my boyfriend?" She crosses her arms and you almost scoff, having half a mind to shut the door in her face. But you don't.

Instead, you make a face and shake your head "We're not together anymore Sana" She steps forwards and touches your hand and you almost immediately recoil and step back into your apartment "Don't touch me, I don't know where you've been." Sure it's a bit immature of you to say but after what she did to you, even feeling her hands on your body made you hostile. You want her nowhere near you.

"Seriously? It's been three months Y/n, get over it." She begins to get upset as if she had any right to. "I made one mistake and now you want to punish me for it forever! Listen he came on to me and-"

"You let him" You finish her sentence off coldly, your jaw clenching as the pain comes flooding back. That distinct ache in your chest, the turning in your stomach, she brought it all back and all she had to do was show up at your door. Your words stop her from talking and she gets this annoyed look on her face but before she can say anything else you actually gain a bit of strength and move to shut the door in her face. Sana puts her foot in the door before you do and stops you from closing it. "Listen, Sana I have a lot going on right now and the last thing I want to do right now is talk to you, just go"

You can't bring yourself to make eye contact and Sana sees it, she sees right through you. She's smart like that, she knows you like that. So she pushes herself through the door to enter your apartment because you'll let her. "Oh please, what else would you have going on besides jerking off?" She says it in that arrogant, sarcastic tone of hers. You open your mouth to protest as she walks in but then you close it and instead you exhale a frustrated huff.

"Why's that the first thing that comes to your mind?" You ask, moving to shut the door as you figured you could maybe say some hurtful things to her—get in her head and make her hurt like she made you. So you stand in the middle of your living room, keeping a good distance as you waited for her response.

"Well, you're a man and you haven't fucked in three months. You must be so pent up, baby" She uses that sweet, sultry tone to finish off her sentence, purposely pouting with those perfect lips right when you manage to take a glance at her face.

Fuck

If there was one thing about Sana? She was fucking sexy. The sexiest girl you've been with in your entire life. Now she has bleach blonde hair and you hate to admit it, as a matter of fact you wouldn't ever admit it, but she looked even hotter. It was such a shame, such a waste that her personality was awful. That she couldn't be trusted.

A little after you ended things you wondered what went wrong and you even tried to make sense of why she would do such a thing because you thought everything was going well. The intimacy was there, you saw each other all the time, there was never a day that went by where you didn't tell her you loved her and more importantly, the sex was hot.

You were ultimately perplexed until you had a good friend sit you down, slap you in the face and then explain to you that cheaters will cheat no matter what and that's probably when the hatred started.

If only he could see you now

A chuckle escapes your lips as you take a few steps forwards, tucking your hands in your pockets "What makes you think I haven't fucked in three months?" You give her a look, one thats calm and collected as if you had no care in the world, as if your heart wasn't beating out of your chest right now and this time, you get yourself to look at her. You watch as her cocky relaxed demeanor turned damn near rigid upon registering what you just said.

"But you haven't" Sana says the words in this matter-of-fact tone like she's expecting you to nod your head and confirm, but you don't. You almost laugh out loud, watching a vein nearly pop out of her neck at the mere thought of you with someone else.

Ironic isn't it?

You stay silent to build the tension, feeling a small boost in your confidence now that hers was noticeably shrinking. Now you can tell that her minds working and that's when you know you've struck a nerve. You try not to smile cause she's staring, watching every one of your moves like a hawk as you take a few steps closer to where she's sitting, right up until you're facing her. You manage to ignore her death stare and you only shrug "And if I have?"

That's when you actually get to appreciate her eyes. They're blue--or at least the color of her contacts are--and she's just staring. "Why the fuck are you playing with me?" She asks blatantly, the curse word leaving her mouth so aggressively, so seriously. Then you begin to lose your cool a bit, having a sort of flashback when you first found out about everything and that distinct feeling of betrayal came back.

The fucking entitlement was getting to you.

"You can't seriously be mad right now" You scoff bitterly and you cross your arms.

Sana stands up and you step back "Who?" Is the only word she utters and she's seething, visibly getting angrier the longer you make her wait.

"Sana, I want you out of my apartment. Now, or else I'm calling the cops" That's all you say before you turn around and walk off in the direction of your room, hoping she'd find her own way out.

You think that'll do it, you think that acting like you don't care and alluding to the possibility that you've fucked someone else would've did it for her.

You're wrong, because instead of leaving like you expect her to, Sana follows behind you closely "You mother-fucker, answer my question" You feel her small fingers wrapping around your arm and you wince when her nails nearly pierce the flesh.

You turn around to face her, yanking your arm out of her grip roughly. Then the annoyance on your face goes away and you freeze. Everything goes away because she's so close and her hand has found it's way on your arm again. She's mad at you, that's very obvious but she looks incredible and you notice how soft her hand is. "Who did you fuck? Tell me" She asks it again, more specifically this time.

"Sana-" You try to step back and the moment you do, your back hits the wall--because of course it does--and Sana doesn't miss her chance to corner you.

"Who?"

At this point you're looking into her eyes and you hate how pretty they are—how pretty she is. Then there's that familiar feeling in your belly. It's back, she still gives you butterflies. "I.." You start, and your words fall short almost immediately and just like that the power dynamic has shifted. All she had to do was get close. "No one" You relax your body, not noticing how tense you were until your shoulders dropped.

It's the truth, you haven't been able to do anything with anyone else since the breakup. It wasn't like you couldn't get laid, you had options but the attraction just wasn't there. Not for any other girl.

Her hand loosens on your arm, but she still keeps it there and her eyes sort of soften. "You're such an asshole, fuck" She hits your arm then huffs like she'd been holding a breath forever, stepping back from you to run her hand through her blonde locks.

"Oh really? Now imagine if I actually did fuck someone else? It would've felt really shitty wouldn't it?" You ask, that bitterness still so prominent in your tone. You couldn't help it, the irony of the situation is just too perfect.

Sana just glares at you and crosses her arms. For some reason you still can't bring yourself to move. You're still stuck there. "Will you ever be able to forgive me for that?" She asks and her demeanor stays the same. But you look into her eyes and you can see that she's genuinely asking like she wants you to forgive her, like she recognizes the pain she's put you through and she wants to fix it.

I don't know

"Sana...you fucking cheated on me, I've only been good to you... I just can't... why would you do that to me? How could you do that to me?" You ask the question that's been in the back of your mind for the longest time.

She comes closer and you allow it. You allow her to take your hand in hers as you stare into her eyes, waiting for an explanation, a reason. You need to know if it was your fault, if you could've changed anything, if you could've done something. "I was dumb and I wasn't thinking, baby" Her hand roams, reaching your face and she cups your cheek in her hand.

Shamelessly, you lean into it and it feels so warm, so soft. You hate it, you fucking hate her for doing this to you. The way she calls you baby makes those butterflies come back and you don't know how to feel. "Sana" You sigh and before you're able to say any words she's dropping to her knees in front of you. "What are you..." You start, but the words get caught in your throat when you realize what she's trying to do.

"I should show you how sorry I am" Her fingers hook over the waistband of your sweatpants and you let it happen.

Sana pulls them down, then your boxers go with it and you're soft. "I know you've missed me" She looks up at you as she takes your shaft into her hand. You exhale and look into her eyes but you don't respond to her. It's like you're outside of your own body, watching yourself in third person and you just can't bring yourself to do anything but watch.

Her soft hands are stroking you and it doesn't take long for you to get hard--less than a minute actually. "Sana" you whisper as she holds her fist at your base, then she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. When the warm, wet muscle comes into contact with your tip the pleasure overcomes you. "Fuck" your eyes are hooded and your mind's going blank.

You can't think of anything else, not even what she's done to you, nothing but her tongue lapping at your precum. She swirls it around then it's eventually in her mouth and her lips are so soft, pressed up against your shaft. You close your eyes and allow yourself to feel every filthy suck, slurp and lick. The sounds begin to echo in your hallway as everything gets sloppier.

Sana begins twisting her hand around the shaft jerking you at the base while she handles your sensitive head with her mouth. It feels amazing. She wasn't wrong, you missed this so fucking much. Off of pure instinct your hand is in Sana's hair and you're threading your fingers through the silky blonde strands. "That feels so fucking.. good" You bite your lip then take a sharp breath through your nose.

There's an eager humming sound that Sana makes but it's muffled as she continues to stuff you deeper into her mouth. She's going faster now, bobbing her head like she's hungry for you, like she's missed this too.

She moves her hand just so she can have your entire shaft inside and it slides down her throat so easily, no resistance as her lips touch your base. Sana holds it there and her eyes begin to water as she looks at you through her eyelashes then she fucking swallows. Your vision goes blurry for a moment and a guttural moan forces it's way out from your throat.

Then Sana drags back and it slips out of her mouth. She takes a breather, wrapping two hands around your shaft one after the other and she begins to stroke up and down. "I want you to fuck my mouth with this big, thick cock" She leans forward and flicks her tongue on the tip, catching more precum. she takes one hand and massages your balls throughly "Use me, and don't you dare fucking stop until you dump this load down my throat." She squeezes your balls for emphasis.

Your jaw almost drops "Sana" then she prepares herself. She opens wide and tilts her head back slightly. So inviting. Then she allows you to take your cock into your hand and out of hers. You guide the tip into her mouth and push your hips forwards using both of your hands to hold her head in place. It's probably not the best thing to do but you can't control yourself, not when she looks like this. Especially because she's asking for it, offering you her mouth to show you just how sorry she is.

You have to admit, it's one hell of an apology.

"Your mouth is fucking... insane" You grunt as the tight warmth of her throat squeezes your cock. She gags and you let it stay there for a bit, she's struggling now that you're in control but she won't tap out. Not like this. It takes a moment until she's breathing through her nose smoothly and that's when you begin to move your hips.

You pull out, then right back in, almost losing it at the wet sound it makes. You lick your lips then you actually start fucking her mouth, using it just like she told you to.

It feels so incredible that you don't miss a thing. Especially her occasional gag when you accidentally lodge yourself too deep. The sight is one for the books too, she keeps her big eyes open as you use her. What Sana can't say, her eyes will. They're so inviting, telling you to keep going, keep using, keep fucking—everything.

It's so subtle that you barely notice it, but Sana begins to undo the button on her jeans. Then she pulls the zipper down and she circles her clit slowly. She moans softly, eyes squinting as she touches herself while you use her throat. You expected it sooner or later because it's what she usually did when she sucked you off.

"Ah" You moan, feeling the heat build up in the pit of your belly "You have no clue... how ready I am to dump this fucking load in your throat. She only looks at you because she can't even nod her head, your hold is too tight. She moans a little and you try to control your breathing. It's getting erratic and every muscle in your body is burning up. "Yeah, just keep letting me use this... fuck i'm cumming" You give her a warning right before it happens.

You hold her head extra firm as you slide your member all the way in, her nose touching your base as your cock pulses and throbs. You're completely filling her mouth with it, painting the inside white with your hot seed while you grunt through your teeth. The feeling is only extraordinary and pleasureful and when you finally come down, you slide your cock out.

She loses her balance, leaning over as she gasps and chokes and holds herself up with her hand. You allow her to take a second to breath and when she's okay, you watch as she slides the other hand out of her pants and sucks on her fingers. Then Sana gets up on her two feet and pushes you against the wall again, she kisses you harshly then uses her hand to stoke your hard cock "Sir" She uses the term that never fails to drive you crazy, it's the implied authority that gets you "I want you to take this cock and fucking use me until you're done. It's my apology to you"

If you weren't completely blinded by lust, you'd push her off of you and tell her to leave because what she did is unforgivable and she can't just fuck for forgiveness. But her gaze is way to powerful and you're not strong enough to push her away. So instead you nearly growl and grab her wrist to pull her into your bedroom. You fling her forwards and she catches herself on the bed, climbing onto it as you pull your shirt off.

You walk towards the bed and yank her jeans off, then her panties and you motion for her to take her top off as you get into the bed and in between her legs. She's looking at you like she fucking needs it, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in the sexiest way. As you go to line yourself up, you stop when you remember something. You may have lost your mind but you still have enough sense to reach into your nightstand and grab a condom.

"What's that for?" She gives you a look as she watches you tear the package open with your teeth. You don't answer her, you just continue on to put it on. Once it is, you prod her entrance but Sana pushes on your lower abdomen to stop you. "Y/n" The look in her eye is serious, like it's unfathomable that you're trying to use protection right now.

"Sana"

"Take it off, I don't have anything" She blinks "and you should know that" You can tell she wants to hit you right now, but she refrains from doing so.

"It's not cause of that, I just don't want to make any mistakes" You shrug when you know that there's no true reason other than to punish her. "Now it's either you move your hand or you get the fuck out and you never see me again."

Just like you expect, she moves her hand. "but I can't - it'll be harder for me to.. you know"

"You told me to use you and that's what i'm going to do. I don't give a fuck if you cum or not"

The words sound so coarse leaving your lips and it causes Sana to shut her mouth. Her lips quiver a bit and her eyes start to well up but she holds her glare. You never liked being mean to Sana and quite frankly if you're being real with yourself it's a blatant lie. No matter what you want to have her cumming, creaming and squirting on your cock until she can no longer think.

But you won't let her know that

You slide in and the first thing you feel is this unfamiliar pressure that squeezes around you tightly. It's something you're definitely not used to but you'd bare with it because you have to. Then maybe you'll think about it.

Sana exhales a pleasureful sigh before grabbing you by your arms to pull you in and you lean over her and begin to move your hips. She's so wet and warm, so slippery that you can just glide your cock in and out of her cunt without any resistance. Almost perfect. 

There's also this noise that you can hear, it's the obscene sound of her slick coating the latex each time you bottom out in her weeping pussy. You can feel it just enough that it has you biting your lip to stifle your own noises.

She's moaning heavily under you, although she said it'll be harder for her cum you know that she's still feeling the wide stretch that your thick cock faces her with. She's got her eyes closed and her hands clutching onto your arms as she wishes she could feel you bare with each vein scraping against her insides. It's something she's missed, but still something she'd have to earn back.

"Fuck - your cock.. it's so fucking -" A long whine follows and it's like she's completely forgotten whatever she was going to say in an attempt to tell you how good you're fucking her. She clenches and you feel it, almost shuddering when you do. Sana pulls your body down, slowing your movements as she gets her lips on your neck.

She sucks hard and you know she's leaving marks where she shouldn't be, you shouldn't let her but her lips feel too perfect on your body. It's all fucked up and you hate the fact that she's leaving deep red or purple marks on your skin. It tells you many things, one of them being that she still thinks you're hers and that you'll be hers forever. 

The thing is, she might be right to think that way because you don't move or flinch. You can't tell if you hate her or love her. "Sana" You murmur, feeling her cunt begin to squeeze you wildly, like it's trying to suck you in deeper. She's stopped the assault on your neck by now and your mouth is right by her ear so she can hear every grunt and moan you let slip. "This pussy feels so fucking perfect wrapping around me" You kiss her cheek and let your jaw hang open, your teeth scrape against the soft skin and you get a taste of the sweat that's built up on her cheek"

"T-The best you've ever had... right?"

You almost lose yourself and say 'yes' but you stop right before. She gets off on that, she always has. So you keep quiet and you quicken your pace. The moment she begins to react to the change in speed is absolutely priceless. Her high pitched moan, her mouth hanging open, the look of pure devastation in her eyes, everything. "Shit - please, please, please"

You hum and she wraps her legs around your waist, ankles pressing into you lower back. "Aw look at you. You're getting so close, Sana" You say it in a smug tone, hot against her ear. "What happened to having a hard time cumming?" 

"I'm - I'm - I'm - I - Fuck" She sputters "Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" A crackled whisper escapes her lips and you have to bite back a smirk. Does she seriously think she has any power right now? Is what you ask yourself before doing something so villainous, you think she might actually cry or curse you out.

You slip your cock out of her wet heat and the guttural sob that escapes her throat is nothing short of perfection. The raw emotional grief in her voice makes you feel all too powerful and it might make you even more fucked up than she is. "Fuck you!" Her legs loosen around your waist and she kicks her legs at you and you stop her by grabbing her legs, laughing a bit in response. "I fucking hate you" She huffs.

With a smirk on your face, you grab her by the hips and in a swift motion you flip her over. You straddle the backs of her thighs, remembering just how much she loved to be pinned and fucked like this. With her face buried in the sheets and her body being forced through the bed. So you slide your cock past her warm ass cheeks and back into that sopping cunt. "Fuck" She drags out as you push yourself to the hilt, knowing that this angle never failed to fuck her up. "You better fuck me hard, fuck me and make me fucking cum on your cock. I fucking need it"

"Not even a please?" You snicker while you prepare to actually wreck her. Despite her crude language you can tell she's so fucking horny and needy for you. Ready to cum all over your fucking cock and be used until you release your load anywhere you want. 

Definitely not inside

"Fuck y-" She can't even curse you right because you've decided to shut her up by completely bottoming out in her cunt. What cuts her insult short is nearly a scream that could probably be heard by everyone on your floor.

You lean over and plant your fists in the mattress for better leverage. It allows you to plow into the soft cushion of her ass so easy, your cock angled perfectly to jab into that spot that can turn her dumb in no time. Her moans go into that higher pitch and you watch as her hands search recklessly for something to grab. The sheets do just the right job.

"Sana..." You grunt "This cunt is fucking creaming for me" You look down, just to see how the condoms been completely painted white with her sticky substance. 

Her walls start to convulse and clench erratically and she's right there, just so close to letting herself go. You keep your pace, deciding that you'll be nice and let her cum because this'll be a day she'll remember for years no matter where she ends up, or rather who she'll end up with. 

Cause it can't be you, right?

You don't think about it too much, you're focused on the mindless murmuring that you can't even begin to make out because she's doing it with her face pressed into the bed. Her back arches and her ass raises into your thrusts and that's when you know it's happening. "Already sweetheart? we've just switched positions" You snicker and she doesn't even have the brain power to curse at you because she's right fucking there.

Sana gasps and her upper body presses deeper into the mattress while her ass just chases your cock, like she needs it deep forever. "Cumming - I'm fucking - God" She groans and shudders through the remainder of the orgasm. Her entire body is feeling the waves, the shocks, everything as she cums and that's how you just know it was good.

She stops and her body lays flat on the bed again so you begin to move your hips. "Now it's my turn" You grunt as the heat builds up in the pit of your stomach "Where do you want it Sana?" There's nothing she says, she just moans weakly into the sheets "Want my load on your back?" No response "Want it in your mouth?" Nothing "Want it all over that pretty face of yours?" You continue and it's almost as if she doesn't really care where you cum. 

Or thats what you think until "Or... do you want me to pull this condom off and fuck my cum deep into this raw cunt" She clenches tight, and you almost lose it right then and there.

"Where... ever - fuck - you want" She does her best to turn her head and look up at you, those eyes telling you that she wants to be bred and claimed by you. But she doesn't say it, it's like she can't bring herself to. Or she just won't. 

Either way, you're not giving her what she wants.

It takes you a few more strokes and just a bit of concentration because of the condom but you're just about ready to burst. You think about it for a moment, getting careless and fucking a baby into her. Maybe you'll raise it together, maybe it'll mend your broken relationship. You seriously think about it, knowing that she probably isn't on any birth control and you could actually breed her, right here, right now. This pretty thing thats under you, writhing and moaning would be tied to you forever if you had a kid together.

"Fuck" You gasp as you pull out with swiftness, peeling the condom off before struggling to get to where her face is. Sana opens her mouth weakly and you get your cock into your fist the moment it all happens. You're cumming, almost keeling over when the ectasy hits you like a brick. You look down and it's absolutely covering her, some getting in her mouth. You make sure to pull the rest of it out, smearing the last bit of white on Sana's face.

She swallows what she caught in her mouth and gives you a smile "I hope you take it into consideration, what with my apology and all"

"Take what into consideration"

"Taking me back"

Yeah right, Hell no

-

Maybe you aren't to be taken serious, maybe no one should ever take you serious because you obviously can't even take yourself serious. It's only been a month since that day with Sana. How the fuck does she keep ending up in your bed, every. fucking. night. 

She's like a fucking disease, you can't get rid of her.

You tell her you hate her, she giggles and says she hates you more. You tell her to get out, she stays and you end up fucking. You tell her you don't love her, she kisses you. It's like she knows you're full of shit, like she knows you. 

Each day she shows up at your door she proves that theory right. 

It's no surprise that you're in love with her, you've come to terms with that recently. But somehow, this new look of hers has really been wrecking you. It's the way she rocks the bleach blonde hair with such confidence. Like she knows whenever she walks into a room, all eyes are on her and they don't stop staring until she isn't present anymore. 

She loves the attention and it kills you. You first witnessed it when she convinced you to take her out a week ago. The waiter couldn't keep his eyes off of her and it didn't help that she wore a dress that had her tits practically spilling out. Instead of telling her to cover up, you ended up punching the guy right in his face.

Then you took Sana home and fucked her on your couch cause you were too impatient to make it to the bed. You needed her to know she was yours in that immediate moment.

It wasn't always like that before. When you could actually trust her you couldn't give a fuck about what she wore or how she wore it, cause you knew that nobody else could have her.

Now that that's not so clear anymore, you need to make her aware of it every time.

It's maybe one in the morning and you're fucking her again. You've got her bent over, on her hands and knees in your hallway. Again, you couldn't make it to the bedroom because when you got here you pushed her against the wall and began kissing her. Then you had her pinned as you fucked her into the wall and somehow you both sunk to the floor.

"You've been such a good fucking girl for me lately" You mutter as you bring her to the brink of her next orgasm "Keeping yourself all nice and untouched for me"

"All for you sir.. I'm yours I'm fucking.. yours" There's a shudder in her voice and in no time "I'm gonna fucking - fuck!" She warns, her needy body meeting each one of your thrusts. It's like you've got her addicted to you and she can't help but need your cock deeper inside.

A harsh slap lands on her ass and she yelps "Do it Sana, cum for me" You grunt and it takes a moment for her to get through this one because it hits her like an 18-wheeler. The way she freezes like a deer in headlights then falls apart like she's having a seizure. She's cumming so hard that you think of asking her if she's alright. But she's more than alright as she continues to fuck her cunt on your cock. 

You're not wearing a condom and you know it's stupid and reckless but you went through all of them and when you reached for one, there weren't any left. Sana looked all pouty, telling you that you could always just pull out while also reminding you that she's been good and that she's just so fucking horny and needy for you that nothing else could satisfy her that wasn't your cock going so deep down her cunt that you hit her cervix. Maybe not literally, but you catch the drift.

Anyways the idea of pulling out starts to seem more and more impossible as you allow yourself to enjoy the feel of her velvety walls. The way they squeezed onto you all slick and wet and warm. It felt almost too good. You have to slow down, cause if you keep going at this rate you might... 

That's not good

"Gonna cum soon" You announce and you don't even know where. There's only one thought in your mind. Fill her, fill her, fill her. It tells you and your entire body begins to tremble. "Sana, be a good girl and tell me what you want" You hunch your body over hers because if you're going to do this, you need to hear it from her. She presses chest into the floor, now she's face down ass up. She doesn't say anything and you're only getting closer so you fist a handful of those blonde locks. She moans loudly but that's not enough "Say it Sana, or else you're not getting fucked for a month"

You know that'll be just as much torture for you as it is for her but you're hoping to God that of all things she knows about you, she doesn't pick up on that. "Fuck okay! I want you to fucking breed me... need your cum deep in my fucking cunt" She finally breaks and just like that your cock begins pulsing. You loosen your grip on her hair as you use her cunt and fuck your load deeper.

She clenches like she's trying to milk you for absolutely everything you've got "Thank you" She whispers.

-

"So.. you came in me"

"Yep"

"And all of a sudden you actually want us to try again? No bullshit"

You nod your head, trying to make sense of it all in your own head. You don't know why exactly you're taking her back, nor do you know why you're climbing into bed with her. "All I know is that... despite what you did to me, I still love you. I love fucking you, I love cuddling you and I love waking up next to you" You sigh cause you know it's pathetic and she doesn't deserve it but the way she holds you and runs her fingers through her hair has those butterflies coming back.

Maybe you do know how you allowed Minatozaki Sana to ruin your life

[simplygojo]

More Than Enough ⸺ Nanami & Toji

author's note ⸺ This was such a thoughtful request so thank you very very much for requesting it anon!! I liked writing this, and I tried to stay true to thier personalities, let me know your thoughts :)

request ⸺ “Can you write a fluff fic about insecurity’s with toji and nanami?” - Anonymous

pairings ⸺ Toji Fushiguro x reader; Kento Nanami x reader

warnings ⸺ self esteem issues, mentions of negative thoughts, a wee bit of sadness, reader uses female pronouns, comforting men

✧.* —TOJI FUSHIGURO— ✧.*

The weight of your thoughts hung over you like a thick, oppressive fog. You sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, staring at the muted glow of the TV screen without really watching. 

The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light from the screen and the pale reflection of the moon on the window. It should have been peaceful, but the knot in your stomach twisted tighter with every passing second.

Beside you, Toji Fushiguro was the embodiment of ease. 

His broad frame relaxed against the cushions, one arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder. 

That subtle touch of his used to calm you. 

Tonight though, it only seemed to magnify the storm swirling inside your chest.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His sharp, chiselled features were shadowed in the dim light, and even with his half-lidded gaze, Toji looked every bit the unshakable man you knew him to be. 

He had that quiet strength, that effortless confidence that seemed untouchable. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were falling apart, cracking under the weight of everything he wasn’t—everything you were.

And it wasn’t fair to him.

You shifted uncomfortably, the words burning in your throat, but your heart was racing too fast to keep them down.

“Something on your mind, princess?” His voice broke the silence, low and smooth. 

He hadn’t even looked at you when he said it, as if he already knew. Maybe he did.

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, but you couldn't help the wave of insecurity that followed. 

Princess—did you even deserve a name like that? 

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “I just… sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough. Like I’m too ordinary compared to you.”

The second the words left your mouth, a rush of heat crept up your neck, a mixture of shame and vulnerability. 

You’d never said it out loud before. It sounded ridiculous now, selfish even, to admit something so deeply buried. 

Toji wasn’t the type to coddle insecurities. He faced the world head-on, and part of you feared he would just shrug it off.

But instead, Toji’s gaze finally landed on you, his smirk fading just a touch. 

“Ordinary?” He repeated the word as if it was foreign coming from your lips. 

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”

Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you avoided his eyes, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. 

“I mean, look at you, Toji. You’re strong, untouchable… You never seem unsure of yourself, and I… I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time.”

Your voice broke on that last part, and you hated yourself for it. Why did you feel so small next to him? 

Maybe it was just being next to someone so self-assured, so in control, who had this strange way of magnifying your own insecurities. 

And even now, the silence that followed felt like it was suffocating you.

Maybe he was annoyed. Maybe he thought you were being childish. Maybe—

Before your mind could spiral any further, Toji’s calloused fingers curled beneath your chin, gently forcing your gaze to meet his. 

The intensity in his green eyes made your breath hitch in your throat. 

There was no judgment there, no impatience—just a look that was so focused, so real, it made your heart stutter.

“You think I care about any of that?” His voice was quieter now, but laced with a seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“I don’t need you to be some kind of warrior. If I wanted that, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. His touch was grounding, but your thoughts were racing, a mix of disbelief and hope. Could it really be that simple? Could you really be enough for someone like Toji?

“Toji, I—”

“I’m not perfect,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly, almost like he was amused by the idea. 

“Sure, I’m real close–but I’m just good at pretending. I’ve got more blood on my hands than you can imagine. Things you don’t even want to know about.”

Your heart clenched at that. 

You knew Toji’s past was dark, that he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders, but the way he spoke about it now—there was a pain in his voice, one he rarely let show. 

And yet here he was, letting you see a piece of that burden.

“But you’re still—” you started, wanting to reassure him, wanting to say anything to ease that weight in his voice.

“Stop saying things that are so obviously not true,” he said, cutting you off again. 

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of the gesture. “You’re the only damn thing that makes me feel human. That’s all that matters.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the weight of your own insecurities seemed to lift, replaced by something softer, warmer. 

Toji didn’t care about the things you weren’t. He cared about the things you were. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

“Toji…” you whispered, your voice trembling as the flood of emotion threatened to overwhelm you.

“What you don’t think you’re hot enough? Or smart enough?” His smirk returned, but this time it was softer, more intimate. “You think I’d ever be with someone who wasn’t just as good as me?”

The conviction in his voice, the way he said it like it was a fact and not just some comforting lie, made your throat tighten with emotion. 

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and before you could say anything, Toji pulled you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin, “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Your chest tightened, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as you could. 

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest was the only thing grounding you now, the only thing keeping you from falling apart under the weight of his words.

In Toji’s arms, with the warmth of his embrace and the steadiness of his presence, your insecurities began to fade. Maybe they’d come back in time, but for now, you let yourself believe that you were more than enough for him.

For the man who’d seen the worst the world had to offer and still chose to see the good in you.

✧.* — KENTO NANAMI — ✧.*

You sat curled up on the couch, scrolling absently through your phone. The TV hums quietly in the background, but your attention has drifted elsewhere. 

Your eyes flicker from your screen to the man beside you, Nanami Kento, who is deeply immersed in a book. Even in his casual state, glasses perched on his nose, the faintest crease in his brow as he reads, he looks flawless—like he stepped out of a movie. 

The soft lighting of your living room casts a warm glow over his sharp features, and you can't help but compare the two of you.

Your fingers trace mindless patterns on the edge of your phone, but your thoughts swirl with insecurity. 

How does someone like him—poised, handsome, effortlessly put together—choose to be with someone like you? 

You can’t shake the feeling that you’re… lacking.

The reflection in your phone screen catches your eye, and you frown at the imperfections you’ve never quite been able to ignore. 

Your hair’s a little messy from a long day, your clothes plain in comparison to the polished image of Nanami sitting just a few feet away. The familiar knot of insecurity tightens in your chest.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate yourself—you try—but when you’re sitting next to someone who seems perfect, those little doubts grow louder. 

You think of all the women out there who would fit beside him better. 

Women who are effortlessly stunning, stylish—everything you’re not. The thoughts churn in your head until you let out a small, defeated sigh, trying to quiet the voices.

Nanami notices. Of course he does.

Without a word, he closes his book and looks at you. He doesn’t ask right away, just shifts closer, his knee now brushing against yours. The warmth of his presence is usually enough to calm you, but tonight, it only makes the weight of your insecurities heavier.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, rich, and familiar—like a steady anchor in the middle of your storm. You shake your head lightly, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing,” you lie, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. You don’t want to burden him with something as trivial as your insecurities. How silly would that sound?

But Nanami doesn’t let it go. 

He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face so that your eyes meet his. 

His gaze is unwavering, full of concern and warmth. “Sweetheart,” he repeats, his tone firmer now, but still so gentle. 

“I can see it’s not nothing. Talk to me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, the lump in your throat growing harder to swallow. You hesitate, debating whether or not to say anything at all. 

But there’s no use hiding from Nanami—not when he’s looking at you like that, with so much patience and care.

“I just…�� You sigh, struggling to find the right words. 

“I don’t understand why you’re with me.”

His brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering across his face. You feel embarrassed now, but the words come spilling out before you can stop them. 

“I mean… look at you, Kento. You’re—you could have anyone. You’re smart, handsome, perfect. And I’m just… I’m just me.” Your voice grows quieter, but the vulnerability in your tone hangs heavy in the air.

“There are so many girls out there,” you continue, feeling the weight of your insecurities settling in your chest. 

“Girls who are prettier than me, girls who look like they belong next to someone like you. And I just—I feel like I’m not enough.”

Nanami’s face softens immediately, the crease in his brow replaced by a look of understanding. 

He doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he shifts even closer, his hand sliding from your chin to gently hold your hand. The warmth of his palm soothes the edges of your anxiety, but the vulnerability lingers.

“Is that what’s been weighing on you?” His voice is a low murmur, thick with sincerity. He turns your hand over in his, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin. 

“You think you’re not enough for me?”

You nod, trying to blink back the sting of tears. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only quiet concern, and it makes the knot in your chest tighten.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning in closer until his forehead is nearly resting against yours. 

His voice is like velvet, smooth and steady, wrapping around you in warmth. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

His words catch you off guard, and you blink up at him, your breath hitching in your throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he continues, his gaze unwavering as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. 

“Not just on the outside, but believe me, you’re definitely beautiful on the outside too, but you have a kindness, a warmth, and a sense of strength that I admire every single day. And that’s something no one else can give me.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Do you understand? You are everything to me.”

Tears blur your vision, and you try to blink them away, but Nanami just smiles softly, squeezing your hand. 

“I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t care what they look like, because no one—no one—compares to you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding as the weight of his words sinks in. He reaches up, brushing a tear away with his thumb, the tenderness in his touch making your heart swell.

“I didn’t fall in love with anyone else, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I fell in love with you, only you. And I’d do it again, a thousand times over.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in his eyes. 

He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift.

“You are more than enough,” he whispers, his lips leaving a tender kiss on the top of your head. “You’re unfathomably perfect to me.”

You melt into him, your head resting against his chest, and as his heartbeat thuds steadily beneath your ear, you feel the overwhelming warmth of his love wash over you. 

He gives you a little squeeze and leaves a trail of kisses all over your face while holding you in his embrace. 

“My beautiful girl…”

Maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to believe him.

[bones4thecats]

Whoops! I forgot to add an emoji, sorry!

I'm the anon who made the Record of Ragnarok request regarding a goddess of fortune and luck s/o. I'd like to be called 🐢 anon, please.

RoR w/ Goddess of Fortune + Luck! S/O

Characters: Poseidon, Qin Shi Huang, and Hades Requester: 🐢Anon A/N: This was a nice thing to write, each of them have their own story, which basically never happens anymore, lol. Anyways, hope you like this! And have a sparkling rest of your days/nights! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of death, insinuated assault, SWEARING in Poseidon's part, murder, blood, and slight description of death (tiny gore warning) ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is a FEMALE and based on Yaoshi (HSR)

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╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 You were his beauty to his beast. While that might not be physical on his behalf, his emotionless and cold demeanor made everyone, including his own family, believe him to be a devil in an angel's skin

🔱 On average, you would visit your believers in your temple, waving each ahead before gifting them with luck and a small fortune every time. But, as your reputation grew, so did your follower's egos

🔱 Poseidon was pissed when he found out one of your long-time followers had a son whom was trying to get into your pants so you would gift him with an unbelievable fortune and unbelieving amounts of luck just for being 'yours'

🔱 He decided to visit your temple one day, stabbing his trident into the stone flooring as he walked, alerting all that surrounded the area, and making them bow in respect to the God of the Sea. Poseidon just scoffed and kept walking, not giving any human any glance, they, in his eyes, did not deserve a perfect being like himself's attention

🔱 As he strode through, he found Aphrodite and Heracles outside of your temple, watching over the many children in the surrounding garden. They smiled as they caught Poseidon walking, as he just asked for your location

"Y/N went to her chambers with this guy... I think he said his name was... Dolion?"

"Yes, that was his name Heracles. They've been gone for about 10 minutes, I was about to send Heracles to check on them, but since you're here!"

🔱 Poseidon nodded and walked to your chambers, his trident making the same clack noise as he heard a man yelling at someone, which made your husband furrow his brows slightly as he listened in

"Get out of here, Dolion."

"Oh go fuck yourself, you whore! Just manipulating my emotions like that?! Making me feel such a strong connection just for you to take it away because you're married to that bastard, Poseidon?! How could you?!"

"Dolion. I will not tell you again. Get the fuck out."

"Don't tell me you never felt the connection with me, Goddess of Fortune and Luck? Come on, Y/N."

"You have no right to call me by that name. Do not make me kill you where you stand."

🔱 The sound of you screaming made Poseidon burst in the room, his trident pushing against the male's neck as you fell to the ground, your long hair pooling around your small frame on the ground

"You have five second to apologize, worm."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"Five."

"Seriously, man! Who are you?!"

"Four."

"Oh for the love of Olympus. Answer me!"

"One."

🔱 You closed your eyes as Poseidon stabbed the man's neck, plunging his trident's three tips into the stone wall and causing blood to begin drip down the body of the now-deceased young male

🔱 Standing up and listening to your chain-wrapped foot hit the ground as you hugged Poseidon from behind, your grip tightening around his stomach, making him look back at you and breath out, providing your ears with the familiar echo of his breathing. He then grabbed your arm and wrapped his own around your midsection, keeping you in a protective grasp

"Thank you, 'Seidon."

"Hmm."

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╚═════ Qin Shi Huang ═══════════════════════════╝

👑 Qin Shi Huang knew that you and him being in a relationship was bound to start some kind of controversy within the Einherjar, as they distrusted pretty much any God they came across. Yep, that means they distrusted Buddha for quite a while

👑 You merely sat up with the rest of the fighters as Qin fought, and you smiled gently as Hades walked in, causing Leonidas to look at you with narrowed eyes

"What are you smiling at, Goddess?"

👑 Chuckling at his animosity, you reached outwards, pointing towards the tall, white-haired God of the Dead before speaking up again

"That man caused many issues between me and my old human friend, Tamaki. Honestly, seeing such an enemy fight against my husband is a fight I cannot tear my eyes from for a second."

👑 Kojiro smiled as you spoke, looking back down at the Emperor. He then looked at you and asked you how you had met the royal and gotten into a relationship, after all, being a Goddess of such a high-caliber in the Shinto Pantheon must have been hard to deal with a human

"It's quite the detailed story. But if you wish to know so badly, Sasaki, I shall tell you the shortened version."

👑 The others adjusted their positions to listen to you, curiosity spread through their tough and chiseled forms as you began to speak, recanting your love story with your husband

"One night, I had decided to take a walk through a garden, but this garden was owned by the Emperor's family. It was there that I noticed a young man walking around, a blindfold over his eyes, much to my confusion at the time. I walked to the man and asked him if he could see and needed assistance, the man, whom I later learned to be Qin Shi Huang, had merely waved me off with a smile before asking if I needed help since he never saw me around the building."

"Wait- he can see through that thing?" Buddha asked.

"Correct, Buddha. But, after I left, I had given him a peony and a orchid. The peony, in Chinese culture, stands for good fortune, while the orchid stands for wealth and fortune. I began to come by nearly weekly, which allowed us to grow closely before he proposed and we married. I revealed my identity as a divine being a mere few days before he proposed, so imagine my shock when he asked for my hand in marriage!"

👑 The others chuckled as you finished your story, allowing you to look back down as your husband readied his form for the fight. You allowed a single tear to fall down from your eye, but before it hit the ground, you picked it up and tossed it onto the ground, making a four-leaf clover pop up from the flooring. Grabbing it, you blew it to your husband, in your own, silent way to wish him luck in the battle for Humanity's safety

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╚═════ Hades ════════════════════════════════╝

💀 As you pat the young deity's head, your husband watched from a distance. You had been bonding with Zeus' family a lot more after the birth of Ares, his youngest brother's oldest son, and after Hermes' birth, you had just doubled down on your Auntie-responsibilities, even as the two aged

💀 Hades smiled as you looked at the middle of Zeus' boys, using your magic to tie tiny golden fabric-strands onto his body, around the arm like a bow for Hermes, he lightly adjusted it to his style while you smiled and pat his head lightly

💀 Laughing as you saw Ares began to mess around with his father, Zeus, as he tried making a speech as if he was going to lead another army to battle, you gave one of the most beautiful smiles in Olympus

💀 Hermes then told you he needed to go visit with his mother, you nodded and allowed him to go speak to Hera. You then clasped your hands in front of your hips and walked towards your husband, stopping by his side and laying your head on his shoulder

"Good afternoon, my love."

"Good afternoon, my King of the Netherworld."

💀 Chuckling and laying his head on your own, Hades smiled gently. He could feel your welcoming and warm aura pulse through his own cold and noble one, and it was a feeling he didn't want to let go of anytime soon

"Aunt Y/N, Uncle Hades! It's good to see you both!" A voice rung out, snapping both you and Hades out of your peaceful moment.

💀 Looking back up, you saw two of your three nephews. Heracles and Ares walked up and shook their Uncle's hand while they hugged you delicately, making sure they didn't accidentally damage any of the golden accessories that dawned your figure

"It's good to see you both as well. How has training been?" Hades asked.

"Alright. Dad almost destroyed the arena last week, though." Ares answered while Heracles nodded with a tired expression.

"Well that sounds like fun, calming your father down and all." You teased, making the three guys smile and chuckle at the thought of Zeus acting like a child in need of discipline from his parents.

"Y/N!" Aphrodite yelled out, waving you over to her and her nymphs.

💀 You peered back at your husband, who just nodded and kissed your forehead, allowing you to walk over to your old friend. Aphrodite was excited about something, and he knew you were naturally a curious being

"You really love her, don't you, Uncle?" Heracles asked.

"That I do. That I do..."

[pretty-little-mind33]

chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend. 

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning. 

He's pissed. 

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now. 

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him! 

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh. 

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch. 

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already." 

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends. 

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny. 

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed. 

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–" 

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state. 

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter." 

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why. 

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends. 

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath. 

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you. 

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does. 

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too. 

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear. 

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears. 

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again. 

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter. 

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty. 

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls. 

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground. 

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes. 

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!" 

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen. 

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her. 

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James. 

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom. 

It had been better quality than yours anyway. 

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'. 

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–" 

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is." 

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater. 

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him. 

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you. 

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head. 

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart. 

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish. 

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you. 

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks. 

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that. 

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts. 

He has never felt more like an ass than now. 

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head. 

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed. 

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens. 

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him. 

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment. 

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp. 

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache. 

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group. 

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you. 

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture. 

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you. 

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back. 

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart. 

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence." 

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm. 

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?" 

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. 

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up." 

Sirius just laughs loudly. 

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle. 

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot. 

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop. 

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.  

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features. 

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours. 

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut. 

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both. 

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you. 

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small. 

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite. 

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese