#he always makes me want to be a better person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesbuzzcutseason · 2 days ago

Text

chasing city lights

chapter 20 - sweet time erasing you

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, angst, i recommend listening to sad beautiful tragic while reading this...

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

the girls all arrived to your place as fast as they could, finding you in a state.

"oh my god" kie said, taking you in. all the girls did nothing but hold you as you fell to the floor, heartbreaking sobs escaping you.

sarah pulled you into her arms as you completely broke down. kie and cleo followed, wrapping themselves around you like they could physically hold you together while your entire world was shattering.

“it’s okay,” sarah whispered, even though it wasn’t. “we’re here. we’ve got you.”

but nothing felt okay. nothing felt real.

your chest ached like someone had physically torn it open, leaving you raw and exposed. sobs racked your body, each one more painful than the last, and no matter how tightly the girls held you, it didn’t stop the emptiness from swallowing you whole.

“i—” you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, another choked cry escaping instead.

“i know, y/n,” kie murmured, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. “i know.”

but she didn’t. none of them did.

“i can’t-” shaking your head. “i can’t do this. it hurts. it hurts so much.”

sarah tightened her hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i know, honey. i know it does.”

this wasn’t just heartbreak, this was losing him, losing everything.

"i don't know what to do." you cried.

"there's nothing you can do." cleo said, wiping your tears.

"i have no right to be upset, i broke up with him." you mumbled.

"you have every right to be upset." kie started, "this is raw, this is painful. you're going through heartbreak. allow yourself to feel this."

you swallowed hard, your breath still coming out in uneven gasps. "but what if he never loved me?" the words felt like glass in your throat, cutting you open on the way out.

sarah pulled back just enough to look at you, her brows furrowed, eyes filled with something close to anger. "don’t do that to yourself, y/n. you know he loved you."

"did he?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "because it sure as hell didn’t take him long to replace me."

kie let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "that doesn’t mean what you two had wasn’t real. but you were the one who walked away. he was always going to do something reckless after that."

you wiped at your swollen eyes. "well, congrats to him. he fucking won. he destroyed me."

sarah cupped your face, forcing you to look at her. "no. you ended it because you knew you deserved better. and that’s the strongest thing you could have done."

kie squeezed your hand. “ heartbreak is messy. it doesn’t make sense. it tricks you into thinking you need someone who hurt you. but you don’t, y/n. you don’t need him.”

but you did. at least, that’s what it felt like.

rafe had been your everything. your home in a new city, your comfort, your person.

and now?

now, he was just someone kissing another girl on your phone screen.

fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you pulled away, wrapping your arms around yourself like you could physically hold in all the pain. “i hate him,” you whispered, but the words felt hollow, not believing yourself.

because no matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t hate him. you hated how easily he seemed to let go. you hated that he got to be the one moving on while you were stuck here, picking up the pieces of something that had already shattered.

sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “you don’t have to be okay right now. but one day, you will be. and when that day comes, you’re gonna realise that you deserve so much more."

maybe one day, you’d believe that, but not today. not yet.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: i am very sorry about this one

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry @yesterdaysproblemm @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes@judesgfirl@4urvalidation@chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover@yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld@blushmimi @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy@bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @kittenjujusblog @bambii1i @thesunflowersociety @wtfdudesblog @voidangxls @jjmaybankmylovee @munsoncultedits @emmiesummers @darlingstarkey @sassyvillaintrophy @pogueprincesa @stylestarkey @sodapopwaldorf

#chasing city lights #smau #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #boyfriend rafe #obxsmau #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx

297 notes · View notes

tbaluver · 14 hours ago

Text

S/O With ADHD- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested: by a couple anonnies ♥︎ a/n: hihi my lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i just want to mention a disclaimer about this. while i do have adhd, everybody experiences things differently so what might be common for me, can be completely different to another person! these symptoms presented here are only what i’ve experienced and what my friends have experienced and what people have requested! do not refer to this to diagnose yourself. if you suspect you might have adhd, please refer to a professional! there will be a part two to this because theres more to add but anyways enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He didn’t fully grasp the idea when you tried to explain your adhd to him, your thoughts would jump from one thing to another and he tried to keep up. He would do his own research to understand better what you were going through. He would notice the little things, the way you would say you 're going to do something but never actually start or how tasks seem to take you forever to finish.

No worries about being late or rushing to go on dates or hangouts with him, there’s no set start time. Often times the dates and hangouts are flexible. He’ll wait until you’re ready as long as he gets to spend time with you and eat yummy food together, he’s happy

Indulges and learns your hyper fixations and your current obsessions. He’ll learn more about them on his own time so he can talk more about them with you

If you’re okay with it, he’ll join you whenever you need to rest and watch your comfort shows whenever you’re feeling drained or overstimulated. He’ll make the atmosphere in the room feel more cozy either by giving you space, adjusting the lighting and closing the curtains, tucking you in your blankets, so you can recharge

Praises your smallest victories even if it was just cleaning your room or finishing a simple task in under an hour without thinking or worrying about it. He knows that even the simplest tasks can feel overwhelming so when you manage to do something without thinking or bed rotting before doing something, he’s genuinely proud of you.

Zayne:

He would truly listen when you go off on a tangent of your hyperfixations, letting you ramble about them without interrupting you. Even if you branch off too many topics that you swear relates to the main topic, eventually forgetting what the point was, he patiently brings you back to the main point.

“..wait what was I talking about?”

“you were talking about how ___ and __”

He’s very organized, constantly tidying and rearranging things for you without needing to be asked. He doesn’t mind it at all. He organizes in a way that he knows would help you but if you ever forget where something is, he’s quick to help you. lost your keys? by the dining room table. your jacket? in the laundry basket. your phone? you’re holding it

Tries to keep his explanations short and easier to understand. He’ll give you just enough without getting lost in any unnecessary details

When he’s not around, he helps you by texting you on specific times to check up on you or to help shift your focus

Separate calm activities alone but together with him. You could be doing your own thing while he reads his book(s) or finishes up any medical reports

Calculates how long it usually takes you to get ready, so he’ll plan dates with reservation an hour or two ahead of time, sometimes maybe even more depending on the date, just to avoid overwhelming you. He’s always patient and understanding, sometimes he’ll help you get ready to take the weight off your shoulders

Rafayel:

In the beginning, he’ll notice you can run late to things but once you explain that it’s because of your adhd, he’ll be more understanding. Still, he can’t help but tease you just a little but he means well. He’ll just plan more hangouts that don’t require any set start time, just as long as you two are together at the end

Yap sessions with him take up an ungodly amount of hours. You both branch off to different topics, each one you both swear is just as important as the last, so the conversation goes in different directions. It takes forever to circle back to the original point.

He loves hearing about your hyper fixations. You can tell him everything, every little fact and he’ll ask you a million questions, indulging in your passion for it as well.

Loves to spend time with you but he is mindful and lets you have the space to unwind whenever you might feel overstimulated or just need to recharge

Shows so much encouragement whenever you show your creative and passionate side. He’ll recognize and appreciate the things you’re good at, even if you’re not able to see it in yourself

It’s canon that he sends you separate messages instead of big blocks of texts but its not because that’s how he feels more comfortable texting but also because he knows that long paragraphs can feel overwhelming. He doesn’t want you to miss anything or feel pressured to read through a lot at once

Sylus:

Lets you hold his hand whenever you want, no need to ask. He knows how much you fidget and he loves how you rub circles on the back of his hand, melting under your touch. If it helps you feel better, then go ahead. He’d even buy you rings to fidget with, ones that maybe match and also just so you can have something to twist and twirl when he’s not around

He adores listening to your obsessions and your hyper fixations, letting you ramble your latest interests or the new trinkets you’ve added to your collection. He’ll even surprise you with little trinkets he remembers from past conversations, knowing they would make you smile

Enjoys spending time with you even if you were focused on your own thing, whether it was hobby related or just unwinding in your own way while he’s also doing his own thing.

When you need help focusing and he’s not around, he’ll reach out at a certain time to check in and help refocus your attention

Doesn’t really send you paragraph lengths of text messages but sends you shorter messages so it doesn’t feel as overwhelming. He’ll mostly send voice messages that are short and the right length so it doesn’t let your mind drift away

Online shopping with him can help so you can control yourself from impulse buying so many things. He doesn’t mind you buying the entire world with his card but sometimes he has to stop you from buying things you absolutely don’t need

Caleb:

It’s easy for tasks to slip through or become overwhelming. You might start one thing but your mind jumps to something else and it takes a while before you can get back to what you were originally doing. Caleb would help by breaking down your chores one at a time or with more manageable steps or most of the time he’ll step in and take care of things for you so you don’t feel burdened.

If anything important was coming up the day after, he’ll leave little sticky notes for you all over the house, each one with a tiny apple doodles. They’ll be on your mirror, bedroom door, anywhere else he knows you’ll see them

Ever since you were a kid, he’ll still help you go over any of your works or anything you were unsure about when you feel like you missed any details. He’ll make sure you don’t miss anything

Never judgemental at all if you cut him off mid-sentence. He understands that you need to get your thoughts out quickly before they slip away so he lets you speak freely without worry

Sometimes you might forget to reply to a message or forget to come back to the conversation, so he’ll send a follow up message like, “whaddya think pipsqueak? :o” or he’ll send you a post to bring you back to the convo

If you’re struggling to focus on something, instead of pushing you to keep going, he’ll encourage you to take a break. He’ll help you ease back into it whether it’s breaking things down further or offering some encouragement

309 notes · View notes

urdreamydoodles · 1 day ago

Text

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

You Protect The Marvel Comics Characters By Punching Someone Who Speaks Badly About Them

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa & Elektra Natchios

Peter Parker aka. Spider-Man

- Peter Parker has been insulted more times than he can count. He’s been called a menace, a failure, a joke. He’s used to it, laughs it off even when it cuts deep. But when he hears the sharp crack of your fist connecting with someone’s jaw—when he realizes that you did that for him—his world tilts on its axis.

- “Oh no. Oh no no no.” His first instinct is to grab you, to get you out of there before this turns into something worse. You just punched someone for him. He’s supposed to be the one protecting you, not the other way around. His heart is hammering—part fear, part something softer, warmer.

- He rushes to your side, hands hovering, unsure if he should scold you or kiss you right there in the street. The person you hit is groaning, cradling their face, and Peter is torn between feeling bad for them and wanting to tell them they deserved it. (Because they did. They did.)

- “Okay, that was… something,” he says, eyes darting between you and the stunned crowd. “Not that I don’t appreciate the backup, but—y’know, punching people usually gets me into trouble.” His voice is light, joking, but there’s something else in his gaze—awe, affection, something deeper than words.

- Later, when he’s patching up your knuckles with the gentlest hands, he murmurs, “No one’s ever fought for me like that.” And when he finally meets your gaze, soft and unguarded, you see it—the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most incredible thing in the universe.

Tony Stark aka. Iron Man

- Tony Stark has heard it all. The insults, the backhanded compliments, the jealous jabs from people who will never be him. Normally, he drowns it out with charm and a drink in hand. But then—then—your fist connects with someone’s face, and the world stops.

- For a moment, he just stares. Blinking. Processing. Did you really just punch someone for him? Then, slowly—a slow-spreading, wicked smirk. Because holy hell, that was the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

- “Well, well, well.” He steps forward, slipping an arm around your shoulders like you’re some kind of victorious gladiator. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.” He’s eating this up, reveling in it, in the way you didn’t hesitate, in the way you stood up for him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

- The guy on the ground groans, and Tony glances down, unimpressed. “Next time, try using words, buddy. Or, y’know, just accept that I’m better than you.” Then he turns back to you, tilting his head. “Not that I’m complaining, but—what was that? You got a thing for defending handsome billionaires, or am I just lucky?”

- Later, when the adrenaline fades, he brushes a knuckle over your bruised hand, voice quieter. “No one ever does that for me.” And it’s not teasing anymore, not deflection—just something real. Something raw. And for once, Tony Stark is at a loss for words.

Steve Rogers aka. Captain America

- Steve Rogers has always fought his own battles. From the alleys of Brooklyn to the battlefields of war, he’s used to standing his ground—used to taking the hits for the people he loves. But this? This is something else entirely.

- One second, he’s turning the other cheek, trying to walk away from the insult. The next, there’s the sharp, unmistakable sound of impact—your fist driving straight into the jaw of the person who dared speak ill of him.

- “Hey—!” His hands are on you immediately, pulling you back before things escalate, before this turns into something worse. But his heart—his heart is a drumbeat against his ribs, because you fought for him. He should tell you it was reckless, that you didn’t have to, but all he can do is stare at you, his throat tight with something he can’t name.

- “That wasn’t necessary,” he says, but there’s no scolding in his voice, only something soft, something incredibly fond. Because no one ever fights for him. Not like that. Not without hesitation.

- Later, when you’re sitting together, nursing your sore hand, he finally murmurs, “Thank you.” And when he looks at you, there’s a warmth in his blue eyes that says more than words ever could—a depth of feeling that leaves you breathless.

Thor aka. God of Thunder

- Thor is used to insults. They roll off his back like rain on a battlefield, drowned out by the thunder in his veins. But when he hears the crack of your fist colliding with flesh— when he realizes you have struck someone in his name— he does not laugh. He is in awe.

- “By the gods!” His voice is both a boom of delight and a whisper of reverence. He steps toward you, eyes shining with something almost worshipful. You are fire, you are fury, you are glorious.

- And then he throws his head back and laughs, loud and full of joy. “A mighty warrior indeed! You honor me, my lady.” He clasps your hand, ignoring the bruises blooming on your knuckles, lifting it as though you have just won a great battle.

- The fool who insulted him scrambles away, but Thor does not spare them a glance. No, his attention is entirely on you. On this magnificent, fearless mortal who would strike in his name. And suddenly, the air around you feels different. Charged. Alive.

- Later, when the revelry has died down, he turns to you, voice softer. “You are… remarkable.” And when he looks at you, it is with the kind of devotion that only gods can give.

Loki aka. God of Mischief

- Loki is no stranger to cruelty. Words have been his weapons, his shields, his burdens. But when someone speaks ill of him— when they dare to drag his name through the dirt—he expects only one thing: to be alone in the aftermath.

- And then you hit them. Hard.

- He blinks. Once. Twice. Shock flickers across his face, unreadable and raw. He watches as you stand, fists clenched, gaze burning with something primal, something protective. And for the first time in centuries, Loki does not know what to say.

- “You—” His voice is different. Lower. There is no mockery, no amusement, only a sharp, jagged edge of something he does not let himself feel. You have fought for him. Him. And the realization shakes him.

- Later, when you’re alone, he traces the bruises on your knuckles with something dangerously close to reverence. “You are a fool,” he whispers, but his fingers linger, his breath unsteady. “A reckless, maddening fool.” And then, softer—so quiet you almost don’t hear it—“And I think I am doomed to love you for it.”

Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye

- Clint Barton is used to being underestimated. People see the bow, the lack of powers, and assume he’s less. They talk about him like he’s a joke, like he doesn’t belong among gods and super-soldiers. He lets it roll off his back—until you don’t.

- The sound of your fist cracking against a jaw cuts through the noise of the bar, and suddenly, the air is electric. You did that for him. Not because he asked, not because you had to—but because someone insulted him, and that was unacceptable to you.

- “Whoa—hey, hey, hold up!” Clint is beside you in an instant, half-laughing, half-terrified. His hands hover near yours, concern flickering in his sharp blue eyes. You’re pissed. It’s kind of the best thing he’s ever seen.

- The guy on the floor is groaning, but Clint isn’t paying attention to them anymore. No, his focus is on you—on your clenched fists, the fire still burning in your gaze. You’re beautiful like this, fierce and unwavering, and he’s absolutely, irreversibly doomed.

- Later, when he’s wrapping your bruised knuckles in an old bandana, he grins, soft and lopsided. “You know, I usually do the whole reckless, getting-into-fights thing. But I gotta say—kinda nice having someone in my corner for once.” And the way he looks at you then? Like you hung the goddamn stars.

Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow

- Natasha Romanoff has been called a monster, a traitor, a woman who can never be trusted. She’s lived a life of whispers behind her back, of sideways glances and careful distance. She’s learned to endure it. But she never expected you to lash out in her defense.

- The impact of your punch is sharp, decisive— a clean, perfect strike that she would have been proud of. And yet, it startles her. Not because you hit them, but because you lost control for her.

- “You didn’t have to do that.” Her voice is smooth, but there’s something unreadable in her expression—something unfamiliar. She’s used to people fighting beside her, but no one has ever fought for her. Not like this.

- She grips your wrist before you can throw another punch, thumb grazing the pulse point there. “Look at me,” she murmurs. And when you do, she sees it—the fire in you, the defiance, the unwavering loyalty. And it does something to her, something she can’t quite name.

- Later, in the quiet of a dimly lit room, she traces the bruise on your knuckles with the barest touch. “You’re dangerous,” she murmurs, lips curving slightly. And for the first time in a long time, she thinks—maybe she wants to be protected, too.

Bucky Barnes aka. Winter Soldier

- Bucky Barnes knows what people say about him. A killer. A weapon. A man who should have died decades ago. He doesn’t argue. He knows what he’s done. He doesn’t expect anyone to defend him.

- But then—you do. And not with words. With fists.

- The moment your knuckles connect with skin, he’s there. He’s fast, instinctive, grabbing you by the wrist before you can swing again. His heart is pounding. Not out of fear—but something deeper, something he can’t afford to name.

- “Why did you do that?” His voice is rough, almost accusing. But you don’t waver. You stand your ground, breathing heavy, eyes blazing with defiance. It hits him then—no one has ever done this for him. Not Steve, not anyone.

- Later, he sits beside you in the quiet, his metal fingers ghosting over your bruised knuckles. “You don’t have to fight for me,” he murmurs, voice almost broken. And when you reply—“Then who will?”—he feels something shift in his chest, something old and aching and terrifyingly new.

Matthew Murdock aka. Daredevil

- Matt Murdock hears the insult before it’s even fully formed—the venom in the voice, the disdain dripping from every syllable. He’s heard it before, about his blindness, about his law career, about the devil that lurks beneath the surface. He expects to ignore it.

- What he doesn’t expect is the sharp, sudden sound of your fist connecting with someone’s jaw.

- His head tilts slightly, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He felt you coil before the strike, heard your heartbeat spike. You didn’t hesitate. And God help him, that does something to him.

- “That wasn’t very lawyerly of you.” He steps close, voice low and teasing, but there’s something else there too—something reverent. His fingers brush against yours, light as a whisper, like he’s memorizing the shape of your defiance.

- Later, in the sanctity of his apartment, he takes your injured hand in his own, running careful fingertips over bruised skin. “I don’t need saving,” he murmurs, though the way his breath hitches when you squeeze his hand says otherwise. And when you reply—“Too bad. You’ve got me anyway.”—his world tilts, just a little.

Frank Castle aka. The Punisher

- Frank Castle is a ghost, a monster, a cautionary tale. He’s used to people spitting his name like it’s a curse. He doesn’t care. He’s beyond caring.

- But then you punch someone in the face for speaking ill of him—and everything stops.

- The guy drops like a stone, groaning, and Frank… laughs. It’s not a soft sound. It’s dark, rough, something almost dangerous. He steps forward, crowding into your space, looking down at you like you’re something holy and terrible and his.

- “You got a mean right hook, sweetheart.” His voice is low, amused, but there’s something else there—something molten, something raw. He doesn’t say it, but he’s never had someone do this for him. Never had someone choose him so recklessly, so violently.

- Later, when you’re both alone, he leans against the counter, arms crossed, eyes dark. “You don’t fight my battles.” His voice is a growl, but there’s no real anger behind it. And when you meet his gaze, unyielding, he exhales sharply. Because if anyone in this world deserved someone like you fighting for them—he knows it sure as hell ain’t him. But he wants it anyway.

Marc Spector aka. Moon Knight

- Marc Spector is used to being called insane. A broken mind, a fractured man, a violent, unhinged vigilante. The whispers follow him everywhere, behind his back and to his face. He doesn’t defend himself—because what would be the point?

- But then, you do. And not just with words. With your fists. The impact is sharp, the sound of bone on bone cutting through the murmur of the street like a gunshot. The moment is frozen. And Marc? He stares.

- He should pull you away, should tell you not to waste your breath, should laugh it off like it doesn’t matter. But he can’t. Because no one has ever done this for him. Not for Marc Spector. Not for the man beneath the mask.

- “You really shouldn’t have done that.” His voice is low, but there’s something almost reverent in the way he says it. His gloved fingers graze your bruised knuckles, and the moonlight catches in his dark eyes—like he’s seeing something holy.

- Later, he watches you from across the room, arms crossed, jaw tight. You stood up for him. You fought for him. And now, all he can think about is how much he wants to fight for you.

Johnny Storm aka. Human Torch

- Johnny Storm is used to the attention. The praise, the criticism, the headlines that reduce him to nothing more than a pretty face and a flame. He shrugs it off. Pretends it doesn’t sting.

- But then, he hears your voice—furious, unwavering, like a flame catching oxygen. And before he can turn, you swing. The guy stumbles back, clutching their jaw, and the entire room erupts.

- “Oh. My. God.” Johnny is somehow both horrified and absolutely delighted. He stares at you like you just set the whole world on fire. Because you did. And you did it for him.

- “I didn’t know you had that in you,” he grins, stepping closer. There’s something in his voice—something deep, awed, almost breathless. Because no one has ever burned quite like you.

- Later, when the adrenaline wears off, he’s grinning like an idiot, watching you ice your knuckles. And when you catch him staring, he just shrugs. “What? It’s kinda hot when you punch people for me.”

Reed Richards aka. Mister Fantastic

- Reed Richards has heard every insult in the book. Detached. Cold. Unfeeling. They don’t understand how his mind works, how his thoughts stretch beyond the present moment, beyond normal comprehension. He’s used to it.

- But you? You aren’t. The second someone spits out something vile, dismissive, cruel, your fist is already flying before Reed can even process what’s happening.

- “Oh.” That’s all he says at first, blinking as if recalibrating. He hadn’t expected—this. You. Your anger, your unwavering defense, the fire in your eyes. It’s an equation he hadn’t considered. And now, he can’t stop solving for it.

- “Violence isn’t necessary,” he murmurs, but he’s already taking your hand, stretching his fingers around your bruised knuckles, memorizing the shape of your loyalty.

- Later, he watches you—studying, calculating, analyzing. But for once, the question isn’t why. It’s how he ever lived without you.

Felicia Hardy aka. Black Cat

- Felicia Hardy doesn’t need protecting. She’s spent her life clawing her way out of trouble, slipping through shadows, dodging every snare. She laughs in the face of danger, purrs at the edge of chaos.

- But then—you hit someone. For her. And everything stops.

- She should be amused. Should smirk and tease and call you reckless. But instead—she just stares. Because no one, not once in her life, has ever thrown a punch for her. Not like this.

- “Darling, you really are full of surprises.” She steps close, a slow, predatory movement, her fingers tilting your chin up. There’s something wicked in her smirk—but her eyes? Her eyes are soft.

- Later, she finds herself watching you more than she should. Running a gloved hand over your bruised knuckles, feeling something dangerously close to devotion. And for the first time, Felicia Hardy wonders what it would be like to be caught.

Stephen Strange aka. Doctor Strange

- Stephen Strange is used to arrogance. His own, and the world’s. He’s used to people whispering behind his back, questioning, doubting, scoffing. He doesn’t care. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

- But when someone speaks ill of him in front of you? You react before he does. The crack of your fist against their jaw is startlingly satisfying. And suddenly, the entire universe shifts.

- “You—” He stops himself. Adjusts his cloak. Exhales sharply. He should be chastising you, telling you to hold your temper, to rise above it. But instead, he’s looking at you like you just rewrote the laws of reality.

- “You didn’t have to do that.” His voice is careful, but his fingers are gentle when they brush against your bruised knuckles. He’s spent a lifetime mastering control—so why does it slip when you’re around?

- Later, he finds himself summoning bandages with magic, hands lingering longer than necessary. And when you smirk, teasing—“Was that a thank you, Doctor?”—he only hums, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. Because maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t mind needing you.

Namor aka. The Sub-Mariner

- Namor is used to disrespect. The surface world dares to look down on him, on Atlantis, on the very ocean that sustains their miserable existence. He tolerates it only because he must. But when someone speaks ill of him in your presence, they are met with something he does not expect—your fist.

- The blow lands sharply, flesh against bone, a declaration of war in its own right. Namor watches, silver eyes narrowing, his body rigid with something unnameable. It is not anger. No, anger is familiar. This? This is something else.

- “You strike for me?” His voice is velvet over steel, laced with the kind of dangerous curiosity that comes before a storm. His people have fought wars in his name. But this? This is different. This is you.

- He moves toward you, slow, deliberate, fingers tilting your chin up. There is no hesitation when he speaks next. “You are worthy of a crown.” And the way he says it—it is not a compliment. It is a fact.

- Later, the sea sings your name. And though he will not say it outright, he watches you differently now—like a king who has found the one thing worth more than his throne.

Johnny Blaze aka. Ghost Rider

- Johnny Blaze has been called many things. Freak. Monster. Hellspawn. He doesn’t care—not anymore. He’s spent too long carrying his curse, dragging his soul behind him like a dying star.

- But then you hit someone. For him. Your knuckles split skin, the sound echoing in the dim light of the bar, and for the first time in a long time, Johnny forgets how to breathe.

- “Shit.” The word is barely a breath. You turn to him, fist still clenched, shoulders tight with fury, and Johnny? Johnny just stares. Because no one, not in his entire damn life, has ever thrown a punch in his name.

- “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, but there’s something dangerous behind his voice—something that flickers like an ember waiting to catch. He should stop this, should tell you he’s not worth it. But instead, his fingers brush over your bruised knuckles like a prayer.

- Later, he watches you from his bike, the engine growling beneath him, his heart doing the same. And when he finally speaks, voice rough, almost shy, it’s only to say: “Next time, lemme do the hitting.”

Eddie Brock & Venom aka. Venom

- Eddie Brock has heard it all before. Loser. Washed-up. Parasite. He grits his teeth and lets it slide, because what else is new? Venom, on the other hand, is far less patient.

- But before either of them can react—you do. Your fist cracks against the jaw of the one who dared to insult him, and suddenly, everything goes still.

- “Did you just—?” Eddie’s eyes go wide. Venom, however, purrs with delight.

- “They are ours,” the symbiote rumbles, voice sliding through Eddie’s skull like liquid night. “They fight for us.” Eddie wants to argue, to tell Venom to shut up, but he can’t, because he’s too busy watching you, heart pounding, something terrifying and warm curling in his chest.

- Later, he doesn’t bring it up—but Venom does. “We like them,” the voice whispers, thick with amusement. Eddie doesn’t respond. He just glances at you, hands tightening into fists, and thinks: Yeah. We do.

T’Challa aka. Black Panther

- T’Challa has faced enemies greater than words. He has fought battles with his hands, his mind, his heart. He does not concern himself with petty insults.

- But you do. The second you hear someone speak his name with disrespect, your body moves before your mind does. The punch lands with precision, trained and true—a warrior’s strike.

- He should chastise you. Should remind you that his reputation needs no defense. But when he looks at you—fire in your eyes, your breath sharp, your hands still clenched—he feels something stir beneath his ribs.

- “Impressive,” he murmurs, stepping closer. He does not touch you, not yet, but the space between you hums with electricity. He sees you differently now—not just as an ally. As something more.

- Later, as he watches you spar in the Wakandan training grounds, his mind drifts back to that moment. You fought for him. And T’Challa? T’Challa is not used to losing battles—but he is certain he is about to lose this one.

Elektra Natchios aka. Elektra

- Elektra is used to being hated. She does not care. She exists between life and death, between shadow and steel. She does not need protection.

- But then, you hit someone. For her. And Elektra? She does not know what to do with that.

- She watches as the body crumples to the floor, watches as you shake out your fist, anger still radiating from every inch of you. Something slow and dark unfurls in her chest.

- “Foolish,” she murmurs, stepping forward. But her voice is soft. Her fingers graze your wrist, her eyes searching yours for something she refuses to name. “But… admirable.”

- Later, she finds herself lingering near you more than usual, watching, waiting. You fought for her. And Elektra Natchios has spent her entire life surviving—but now, she wonders what it would be like to be worth saving.

212 notes · View notes

fireinmoonshot · 9 hours ago

Text

touchy | joaquin torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. Warnings: Mentions of food, a kind of spicy make-out scene. Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I had this idea and I just had to write it. It's shorter than my other Joaquin fics but I had so much fun writing it and I really just wanted to get something else for Joaquin out for you guys! Please send in requests for him if you have any! 💗

One thing you never expected when you started dating Joaquin Torres was how touchy the man was – there was barely any time when the two of you were together when he wasn’t touching you in some way.

It surprised you at first. He never came across as that kind of person. He was the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend. But then you’d be standing with him at a party and you’d feel his hand wrap around your waist, or whenever you had to cross the road, he’d hold your hand (not unlike your parents used to do when you were a child), or when you were at home watching a movie on the couch, his hand would rest on your thigh.

After several months of this, you finally decided to ask him why.

“Joaquin, can I ask you something?” You call from where you’re sitting in the living room, your eyes flickering up from the book that was on your lap – the one you’ve been trying to read and failing, owing to the fact that your boyfriend has been strutting around your apartment shirtless ever since he got out of the shower.

“Course you can, angel,” he calls back from the kitchen.

Out of the two of you, Joaquin is the cook of the family. You hadn’t trusted him in the kitchen at first – he had always seemed the type of person to accidentally chop off a finger because he was too distracted. But so far, no such accidents had occured and he was much better at making a delicious meal than you were.

You were quick to close your book and get up from the couch, padding through the hallway into the kitchen to see him standing at the bench, chopping something up on a cutting board in front of him – still irritatingly shirtless.

“Cooking shirtless is dangerous, you know,” you say, announcing your presence.

His eyes flicker up towards you. “For you or for me?”

You give him a look. “For you, pretty boy. I’m not the one holding the knife.”

Joaquin grins at you before putting the knife down, wiping his hands on the cloth on the bench beside him and grabbing the apron hanging over the back of one of your bar stools. “Should I put this on then? Someone clearly isn’t enjoying the show.”

“Baby,” you roll your eyes at him jokingly, crossing the room and snatching the apron out of his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant you could get burned by oil or slip and cut yourself or… well… there are plenty of dangers to cooking shirtless.”

Joaquin smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest so you’re pressed together. “Angel, all those things you just listed are also things that could happen to me if I were wearing a shirt. You know that, right?”

You can’t help the way you pout at him. “Not my point, Joaquin.”

He grins and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Was that what you were coming in here to talk about?” He asks, his thumb swiping gently back and forth over your waist.

“No, actually,” you hum. “I was coming here to talk about this.” You motion in-between the two of you, at the contact between your bodies. You’re not not a fan of it – of course you love it – but it does amuse you, the fact that your boyfriend always wants to have a hand on you at all times.

Joaquin raises his eyebrows. “We playin’ charades? Am I meant to guess?”

You laugh a little. “No, silly. This. The way I walked into the kitchen and you swept me up into your arms immediately. The way you always have a hand on my back when we walk somewhere. The way you put your hand on my thigh when we’re on the couch. The way you’re touching me all the time.”

Irritatingly, your words have the opposite effect than intended and Joaquin steps away from you, removing his hand from your waist. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and almost reach back out for him.

“You don’t like it?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You hate the look on his face – the way he looks like a wounded puppy. His usually playful eyes look sad, full of fear and you can read his expression immediately. He thinks that by doing these things, he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Baby, no – I love it!” You attempt to rectify the situation. “I just was curious about why.”

Unable to keep looking at his sad puppy dog eyes anymore, you step forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands gently. His hands tentatively rest on your waist, as if he’s afraid you’re going to move away at any second but he simply can’t help but to touch you, just a little.

“You’re so touchy and I love it, Joaquin. I love having your hands on me all the time, I swear. Just now when you took your hands off my waist it was like… like it was suddenly winter and I was freezing cold without them. I just wanna know why you do it,” you explain further, making sure you keep eye contact with him.

Joaquin frowns a little. “I guess I never really thought about it,” he replies. “I think I kinda just do it without meaning to. I just love the feeling of having my hands on you, feeling your warmth, reminding myself that you’re beside me. And I mean…” He clears his throat. “Have you seen yourself, angel? Why would I not wanna touch you at any given opportunity?”

It’s like his confidence makes a return to his body, then. His grip on your waist gets tighter and he pulls you closer, forcing you to drop your hands from his face. They rest on his shoulders instead as he backs you up a little so you’re leaning against the counter. His body is pressed against yours again, like it was only minutes ago. The warmth you’d missed before falls over you like a sheet of pure comfort.

You can’t keep the smile off your face at his words and actions. “That’s kinda cute, Joaquin,” you admit. “That you do it without thinking about it. Like I said, I love the feeling of you having your hands on me too.”

“Cute?” Joaquin looks at you with raised eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

It’s hard not to smile at his tone. “Yeah, adorable. You’re like a little puppy. You were looking at me before with the most puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a person. You looked so sad, I just wanted to pick you up and–”

Before you can finish speaking, Joaquin cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. You moan at the sudden feeling of his lips, the feeling of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. The way that his hands grip your waist tighter, one of them roaming up your back to grasp at the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper.

The edge of the counter digs into your back but you barely even notice the feeling. One of your hands moves to run through Joaquin’s hair – it’s short, but long enough for you to grip, the other on his back. The feeling of his muscles against your palm only makes you want to kiss him more. The last thing you want to do is break apart for air.

Your breath hitches as he squeezes your waist again, forcing your lips apart. Both of you are breathing heavily, though the break doesn’t last long. Joaquin wastes no time in kissing you again, but this time his lips move from yours to your jaw. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head backwards, giving him better access. When your hand grasps onto his hip, he gasps a little and you can’t help but smile at the sound.

“See?” You mutter breathlessly, tilting your head forward again to meet his eyes. “I told you that cooking while shirtless was dangerous.”

Joaquin laughs at that, a gorgeous smile finding its way onto his face. You look at him, at the sweat on his forehead, the look of lust and love in his eyes, the way his chest moves up and down quickly, his breath still heavy from your small make out session. He’s easily the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on… and he’s all yours.

He moves his hands down to your waist again and before you can do anything about it, he’s lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter and pushing your legs apart so he can stand in-between them. At this angle, you’re basically the same height.

“I see no problems here, angel,” he flashes that gorgeous grin again before messily pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away quickly though, much to your disappointment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m not cute, I am going to continue cooking you dinner. I’ll let you go back to your book.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, turning to watch him as he returns to the cutting board. “I have a much better view right here than I do in the living room, baby. Besides, someone has to supervise you to make sure you stay safe while cooking like that… it’s bound to be a hard job but I’m pretty certain I’m up to the challenge...”

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world #captain america brave new world x reader #joaquin torres x you

185 notes · View notes

777rare · 2 days ago

Text

🌞SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT.3

Since most of you voted for Solar Return Chart Observations, here we are! I will post the other topics that I mentioned in the poll as well but first,here you go~☺️💖 THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

Also, I tend to include this activity in my observations titled 'Imagine' so I can help in making you understand these observations as well as make it fun and easy for you guys. So whenever you see an 'imagine' title, please try imagining what I ask you to imagine, you can be creative with it because imagination is a wonderful way to learn better.

• Where Chiron sits in the Solar Return Chart is where you will experience a lot of pain but also where you are pushed to heal unhealed past wounds. This can even reopen old wounds. You will either hurt people there or will be hurt by subjects related to that house.

Example: Chiron in the 11th house can make you have hurtful experiences with social groups where you may feel left out, you may be insulted or bullied through jokes by your friends, you may also hurt your friends and if you have an elder sibling, he/she can play the role as well where either they are the ones wounding you or pushing you to heal what you haven't healed (intentionally or unintentionally) and also possibly your relation with them can be quite rocky and hurtful this year.

• Where your Fama asteroid(408) is, is where you will be very recognised and known. Where a lot of eyes are on you and your every move is witnessed by others.

Example: I had this last year in the 9th and I was very recognised in my college, by my teachers and my classmates. Every one of them had eyes on me (not like in a creepy way, for some reason they always witnessed what I was doing, but yes,my teachers intentionally kept an eye on me because I was a big responsibility and was in a lot of drama, even though I didn't want to be in it{I had it with venus, Pluto, Mars and mercury}).

The reasons why you are recognised or seen by many will depend upon the planet there or the sign overlaying that house (make sure to check where the sign lord is sitting in the chart).

• Having Gemini Ascendant in the solar Return Chart means you will definitely be surrounded by friends and talk a lot that year. Even if you are the most silent creature on planet Earth, you will yourself be surprised how much you speak to others that year.

Example: I am an INFP type and we are firstly known as introverts, even if you do not believe in the personality types, it's okay, I was a very quite person in 2023 and the years before that but last year (2024) I had Gemini Ascendant and God, I could not shut my mouth. I kept laughing with friends, joking around with them but I also had a LOT of mood swings so be prepared for that as well. People couldn't quite understand how I suddenly became this and then that within a fraction of seconds (which is the duality of this sign).

• Any planet or asteroid sitting in the 1st house becomes the theme of that year. Whatever happens that year in any area of your life will definitely be connected or will surround the topic of that planet or asteroid. That planet or asteroid will be the major focus that year for you.

✨ Imagine:

Your chart as the solar system and that planet in the 1st house becomes the sun while everything else in the chart represents the planets that revolve around that sun.

Example: If you have moon in the 1st house, overall that year will be revolving around your emotions, you home, your mother, your mind, women in general and your secrets.

Also make sure to check where the planets sign is seated because that house and the planets seated there are most tied to this planet.

• If you don't have any planets, look at the ascendant lords placement in the chart. 👇

An Example:

Leo ascendant sign lord, sun sitting in the 6th house, overall the theme of this year will surround your health, your mundane chores, your lifestyle, your pets, your innocence, your acquaintances, your hidden enemies etc.

Now, also check the aspects to the planet and whether the planet is seated with anyone else as well. If is Sun sitting with Pluto in the 6th house then overall there is a huge transformation in the way you go about your day, your health can also change drastically for the good or bad.

If the planet is conjunct another planet which is sitting in a different house, then the effects of that planet in that house will affect the other house as well. Like if sun in the 6th house is conjunct mercury in the 7th house, the areas of relationships and partnerships also will affect your health this year and there will be a focus on that area of your life as well.

Before studying your Solar Return Chart always see if till this day the whole sign Solar Return chart is reasonating with you or if placidus method is working out fine because it can really make a difference as the planets can shift into the next house in the whole sign method and changes the prediction.

SPECIAL DEGREES!

A planet in Special degrees (0°,22°,11°,29°) can indicate that the planet will be playing a VERY HUGE role in impacting that year for you. The degrees matter as well though:

• 0° = Major or Massive changes will occur there or that planet will have an unforgettable impact in that house and that area of your life. Whichever planet is in this degree will have an entirely new way of how they show up in your life so always check it's aspects and placement.

An Example:

I had my Pluto in 0° last year and my pluto was in the 9th house with venus, mercury and Mars. Now, Pluto had conjunct Venus and Mars so my beauty and the way I showed up in my college was entirely different, like an unrecognisable change was seen in me. Major changes were seen in my education, my beauty, the way I took action, the way I carried myself around, the way I dealt with men, my relation with my dad and teachers, etc.

I also had a lot of experiences where I showed my tough side towards a man which I never did in my entire life. Pluto took an entire 360° turn in my life but also this made me have so much of a controversial presence in the lives of my classmates and those I had real connections with. I was always in the drama in my college, lol, even when all I did was exist. There was so much of drama in my life last year, gosh.

•22° = This is the famous "kill or be killed degree" and yes, that is exactly how I feel this degree works out in a chart. Whenever a planet is in this degree in your Solar Return Chart, that planet is going to challenge the hell out of you. I'm not even joking. Look, I don't want you getting into a war with a planet for pete sake😂 but that planet is up for a challenge so kill that planet with kindness (not literally kill, and if any planet heard me, I am sorry, but these guys need to know wtf you doin' lol).

An Example:

I had my Moon in 22° last year and my Moon was sitting with uranus and Jupiter in the 12th house, conjuncting with Uranus. Oh. Mah gosh. First of all the uranus was giving me Hell on a silver platter and then came this moon who wanted to challenge me. I was so damn EMOTIONAL!! Like I faced such internally damaging experiences that challenged my emotional strength and my decision making ability was so challenged because I was always having an uneasy mind. My morals were challenged by my emotions.

I just wanted to go into a coma till it all ended. My entire year was like that "eeemotional ddaaaamage" meme lol. ��But damn, I put up a good fight. Even my mom and I were in a huge war with eachother, no. Literally. Anyways, I was in an internal war with my mind, my mother, my home, my family, my emotions and my goddamn tears that didn't stop flowing like a waterfall. I hated my entire family last year and was in an epic war with them but yeah, I got through it all.

(Not necessary you will hate your family too or be at war with them, but you may struggle with the women in your family or women in general).

• 11° = OOkayy, now we come to this nice degree. This degree is all about the leveling up. When a planet is in this degree, you are gonna see major unexpected changes related to that area. Even a glow up! You will be throwing out the old and making space for the new when it comes to the areas of that planet.

You will be experiencing more events that open up your mind more and change your perspective on things in that area. This also makes you very influential in the areas related to that planet and house. You can also gain online popularity that year or just be seen by many online accounts that year based on what planets is in this degree.

This will also make you show up very uniquely in the areas of that house and the planet. You will also be very active online and have a lot of online connections based on what planets is in this degree, for example if one has venus in this degree, it can be more online romantic suitors or just flings.

The planet can show the reason for your online popularity or influential presence.

An Example:

I have Jupiter in 11° in the 10th house this year and even though the year just started and my birthday recently passed, I did come back here on Tumblr after a very long time and have already been posting a lot which many people read. Also, I will have a lot of recognition this year.

Also, I will level up definitely this year immensely and by next year, I will again be unrecognisable to those whose known me since ages. I am also being seen by readers online a lot because of my spiritual content and content related to deities which is Jupiter (ruler of the 9th and 12th house).

• 29°= Well, this is a very well known fame degree along with 0° and 11°. Even 17° is in this category but it is not as special as these degrees are in my opinion. The 29° can make a planet reach its highest peak that year. That planet is in its peak, like really really strong.

This is because this degree is the highest and the last degree in the chart. In Vedic astrology we often term a natal planet in the highest degree as 'Aatmakaaraka' which means "soul carrier".

So basically, the planet in this degree this year will be the planet carrying your soul for the entire year. Whether you are in good hands or not cannot be told with the degree but with how the planets position is and where the planet is seated.

Now, when I say that I don't mean you will be in danger if the planet in this degree is sort of malefic and harsh, but I will say that you will be experiencing whatever that planet offers in your chart, a 100% so if it is planets like Mars, Pluto, neptune, uranus or Saturn or these planets are in conjunct with the planet in 29°, you can face a lot of struggles, but please don't take too much tension.

It's like That planet will be in a sugar rush where they are completely active, like no stopping, just doing doing doing.

Again, how and for what you will be very recognised for is based on the planet in this degree.

✨ Imagine:

The planet in 29° is a giant who is carrying you on the palm of his/her hand till your next birthday and you can't even get off the giants hand because if you jump out of his/her hand, you'll fall, some few feet, till you get squashed on the soil, so you have to just sit there and see where the giant takes you. You can question the giants actions and maybe even change directions but you cannot get off the giants hand till you reach the destination that the giant is taking you to.

An Example:

I had Venus in 29° last year and my Venus was in the 9th house with mercury, Pluto and Mars, conjuncting Mars and Pluto. Now....I obviously had an extreme unrecognisable glow up and I was the major topic of romance in my college for the drama that took place with it.

There was Major drama in my love life in college last year and I was the topic of so much gossip (mercury in the 9th). I also had a lot of arguements and competition with the women in my college even though I never wanted it. Venus was also trine ascendant so I was seen as rather charming and not egotistical by others.

People knew I was genuine and that others unnecessarily got triggered by my presence (12th housers problems) but yes, I was also seen as unattainable by the opposite and even the same gender. (Trust me,it's just the Pluto effect, I look like an average human being with acne😀).

Also, I couldn't stop this Venus giant from taking me where I was supposed to be taken,I did change directions and everything but nah, in the end, the giant took me to the destination meant for me...Hell. lol😂😂 no, I'm joking, it took me to a better place.

...

Having a lot of special degrees, like I had last year, can be a year full of experiences like never before. Whatever you never experienced, you will be experiencing this year. For some reason even if events are quite similar, they just don't feel the same and you will remember that year extremely well because of how much different it felt and how it deeply impacted you.

Thankyou for reading this post!💖✨

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed composing it!

Have a great day ahead and see you in the next one❤️‍🔥☺️

By the way, I have a very interesting post coming up and I'm sure you all will love it!🤭🎉

156 notes · View notes

lunamond · 2 days ago

Text

I know this is by no means a new take (especially here on tumblr) but I'm of the very strong opinion that as written, the Acotar series actually provides a lot of evidence that most (if not all) of Rhysand's actions are in some shape or form always about Tamlin. Even his relationship with Feyre is about Tamlin.

A lot of people hold up Acomaf ch54 as this super romantic turning point for Rhys' character, which is incredibly funny to me because to me it only ever cemented the unfathomable levels of homoerotic obsession Rhysand has for Tamlin.

He admits that during Acotar he convinced Amarantha to let him go out of Utm to check on Tamlin and the Spring court, where he then left a decapitated head branded with the Night court symbol, like some weird bat shaped cat.

He also visits for Calamnai. (What are you doing here on the spring sex festival night, Rhysss?!? He isn't going to pick you!)

Obviously his meeting with Tamlin in Acotar is a classic for any Tamsand fan, his voice is a "lover's caress," he demands Tamlin call him Rhys instead of Rhysand for old times' sake (???!!), he threatenes Feyre‘s life to make Tamlin get on his knees and specifically fixates on her sexual thoughts about Tamlin.

When he kisses her utm to cover up Tamlin‘s scent, she also weirdly remarks on the fact that Rhysand can still taste Tamlin, which... is quite the odd thing to point out, if I'm meant to believe he is only interested in Feyre.

He also has literally admitted, to Feyre herself no less, that his weird roofy lapdance humiliation of her utm was specifically to upset Tamlin.

It just screams of "if I can't have you than I'm going to make your life miserable and steal your girl" behavior.

All his posturing in front of Feyre, presenting himself as the most powerful HL, the prettiest, the best and most just ruler, etc just comes across as him desperately trying to prove how much better he is than Tamlin, which obvs was intended to make him appear more attractive as the new love interest, but quite frankly it just seems kinda pathetic (I mean this affectionately, especially in the context of Tamsand. But eve beyond the ship, I just really adore pathetic fictional men).

Even in Acofas, he cannot stay away from the Spring court, he claims he needs to go there for diplomatic reasons, but he literally has courtiers? He has send both Cassian and Lucien on diplomatic missions before? Why would he personally need to go?

But, when he meets with Tamlin, he tells him that being with Feyre (his mate and supposedly love of his life?!) isn't enough, and he tries to goad Tamlin into a fight. (He wants to wrestle him so bad it makes him look stupid fr). When Tamlin doesn‘t respond like Rhysand hopes, he gets disappointed and dejected. Later, he returns and cooks Tamlin food, an action that has been explicitly romantically coded in this series...

Also, as a side note throughout that entire interaction, Rhys' internal monologue can't shut up about how green Tamlin‘s eyes are.

I'm hyper critical of the Acotar series and Sjm on the best of days, I don't like how Rhysand's character is written at all. But reading him as the most egregious case of a closeted gay guy channelling all his surpressed feelings into being the most toxic ex might be the only way his character writing can be redeemed for me personally (unfortunately Sjm is too much of a coward to ever purposefully write this).

I know its never gonna happen in canon, but to me the perfect resolution to the series would be Rhysand and Tamlin resolving their gay rivalry and finally getting together to live out their thruth as the disaster couple they were clearly meant to be. While Feyre and her sisters get to go off and be free from the clutches of all these toxic men.

#acotar critical #anti acotar #sjm critical #pro tamlin #rhysand critical #anti rhysand #tamsand #tamlin

172 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 2 days ago

Text

why were you digging? what did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

art by wolfythewitch

Hozier lyrics in which they embody when loving you.

multi x gn!reader

[tw/cw} - some of the lyrics are gendered, few suggestive parts

[note] - i forgot i had this drafted for a while lol anyways only romantic vibes cause i couldnt find satisfactory lyrics for grim and ortho :( i also was gonna add the halloweenie boys but then it wouldnt have been evenly split and i didnt want that lol

"I know who I am when I'm alone/I'm something else when I see you" - It Will Come Back

He's always been sure of who he is and how he presents himself. He has an image that he must uphold, his reputation is dependent on it. Yet, that perfectly sculpted person comes crumbling down, firm marble turned into malleable clay with you. He should be appalled by the very idea of someone having so much hold over him, yet he can't bring himself to care. You see through him, and it's addicting. You see through him, but still show him kindness, and it's addicting. You see through him, still show him kindness, even knowing just what thoughts he has of you at night, and it's addicting. He has an addiction, and you're his drug of choice. There is no rehab for getting him off of you, once he's hooked he's never letting go of the high that you are. Then again, if you knew just who he really is, perhaps the addiction was mutual.

Riddle Rosehearts, Cater Diamond, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper

"We lay here for years or for hours/So long, we'd become the flowers" - In a Week

He is admittedly a simple man, even if he might portray or say he desires otherwise. But deep down, he is very simple: he'd like to be with you forever, that's it. Laying in the grass, the sounds of cicadas and birds singing, the smell of dewy grass and freshly bloomed flowers, all of that with you would be his dream. He hopes that you two will live a long life together, that your graves will be one, your bodies decomposing together into the earth as nature intended. You hope that centuries into the future, some bright-eyed archaeologists will see the patch of flowers growing over your grave and dig to find your two skeletons intertwined. You both hope that theories and myths are created in the image of your long gone bodies so that the memory of your love will live forever on.

Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl, Rook Hunt, Silver

"She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily/Better yet, she wouldn't care" - Jackie & Wilson

Loud and impulsive to a fault is how most would describe him, and really he should care more about the problems this causes. He should, but why when you take him as he is, flaws and all? To you, the impulsivity, his loud mouth, his rash nature, his bluntness, they weren't flaws—they were him and you love him. And he loves you—for all your naivete, doting, and enabling ways. If there's trouble to be found, it's likely you're both involved: you chasing after him as he goes of. Is it naive to think that this sort of relationship won't eventually burst into flames? Probably. Is it a bit toxic if you were to look at your relationship critically? Probably. But he doesn't care (even if he normally would or should), and neither do you. Instead, for just a bit, you indulge in the present, rather than the past or future. Just for a bit

Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt

"You're bright as the morning, soft as the rain/Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape" - Too Sweet

Something about you is just a bit off-putting: you're a bit too put together, too cheery, too sweet for someone in your situation. It's more off-putting to him that he's drawn to you anyways. Part of him holds himself back, as he's a realist at heart. One day, any day now, you can go back home, where your sweetness rightfully belongs. Part of him though wants to that sweetness, make it rightfully his and his alone. It's why he can't keep himself away from you, he'd rather defile you, ruin you for anyone else so that you'd have no choice but to come running back to him for that sweet satisfaction that only he can provide. You're not stupid though, you know just what he's doing; lucky for him, you're happy to let him age you into a fine wine, made just for his taste.

Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Lilia Vanrouge

"Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I" - Francesca

You have ingrained your very being into his own. The sight, the sound thought of you has him yearning for your touch in ways that would put a god to shame. But Eros had no role in his love for you. Since he's met you, somehow you've managed to core out a space in his heart in the shape of your body. Without you, he'd be empty. Without you, he'd be devastated, experiencing an anguish that would kill his very soul. His love is so strong, so overwhelming, so earth-shattering that he'd alter the very laws of the universe just to keep you with him. Could you even bring yourself to deny him if the choice to leave ever came? You have him in the palm of your hand, like a god with their worshipper. You'll be a merciful and loving god to your devotee, won't you?

Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

230 notes · View notes

nilla03 · 23 hours ago

Text

𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙑𝙀 & 𝘽𝙀𝙔𝙊𝙉𝘿𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 : 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊!

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔: 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑖 𝑝𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒, 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑥

𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 დ

His Tinder pictures had been dangerous enough—a few casual shots, a grainy gym selfie, one where he was holding a stupidly big fish. But in person? Toji Fushiguro was something else entirely.

Broad, thick, and lounging in the dim booth like he had nothing better to do than watch you lose your mind over him

Because it wasn’t fair how effortlessly attractive he was, how his black button-down strained around his biceps, how his forearms flexed when he adjusted the sleeves. He’d ordered a whiskey neat, barely glanced at the menu, and then spent the next twenty minutes watching you toy with your straw like a nervous little thing.

“You always this quiet, sweetheart?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and way too amused.

You forced yourself to smile. “I talk.”

“To who? Your little dating app matches?” He smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “How many you got lined up after me?”

You scoffed, but your fingers were tight around your drink. “You think I’m a serial dater?”

“I think,” he drawled, eyes dark under heavy lashes, “you’re a cute little thing who has no idea what to do with herself right now.”

You could barely eat, barely sip your drink. The way his gaze kept dropping—lazily, knowingly—to your lips, your chest, the hem of your little dress riding up your thighs. It was all too much.

You weren’t even sure how it happened, who broke first.

One minute, Toji was tossing a couple of bills onto the table, the next, you were pressed against the sleek leather of his car, panting into his mouth as he dragged you into his lap.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he rasped, fingers digging into your thighs. “Knew you were all worked up. You been dripping since we sat down, huh?”

You whimpered against his lips, rocking forward instinctively, and he groaned, big hands sliding up your ass, gripping tight.

“You shoulda just said somethin’, baby,” he murmured, licking into your mouth like he was starving. “Woulda bent you over the table.”

The mental image made you whimper, nails clawing at his shoulders.

He chuckled, teeth grazing your jaw as he shoved your dress up, rough palms kneading your bare skin. “Yeah? That what you want? Me playin’ with you in public, makin’ a mess of you in front of all those people?”

You shook your head quickly, but the way your hips rolled against him betrayed you.

Toji groaned, dragging you closer, letting you feel the hard, thick length of his cock pressing against your soaked panties. “Lyin’ little thing,” he muttered, pulling the flimsy fabric to the side, thick fingers slipping through your slick folds.

“Shit,” he hissed, middle finger teasing at your entrance. “You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“Been—been like that,” you admitted, voice shaky.

That earned you a dark chuckle, his hand slipping lower, pushing one thick finger inside you.

You gasped, walls fluttering around the intrusion, but Toji just groaned, lifting his hips to grind against you.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he muttered, adding a second finger, stretching you open, his thumb rubbing messy, slow circles against your clit.

You were a mess already, clinging to him, legs trembling as he worked you open, his mouth hot against your neck, teeth scraping your skin.

“Gonna let me fuck you in my car, princess?” he murmured, curling his fingers just right, making your breath hitch. “Gonna let me wreck this pretty little pussy?”

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, gripping your hips and grinding you down against him, letting you feel the full, thick press of him through his slacks. “You know what you’re doin’, sittin’ all pretty in my lap, whimperin’ like that.”

You barely had the sense to shake your head, eyes hazy, lips swollen from his kisses. “N-no, I—”

“No?” He smirked, pressing you down harder, making you keen. “This little dress, these pretty panties—” his fingers toyed with the lace before snapping the waistband against your skin, making you jolt. “Come on, sweetheart. You think I don’t know a needy little thing when I see one?”

You shuddered, hands fisting in his shirt, and Toji growled, impatient.

“Take ‘em off.”

You barely managed to lift your hips before he was yanking your panties down, shoving them into his pocket like he was collecting a prize. Then, strong hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wide over him, letting the cool air kiss your soaked folds.

“Fuck,” he murmured, one big hand dragging up your thigh, thumb grazing the messy slick coating your skin. “Look at you.”

You whimpered, face burning, but he didn’t give you a second to get shy. His hands gripped your ass, guiding you forward until your bare pussy was sliding along the thick bulge in his pants.

The friction was too much—too hot, too good. You moaned, clutching his shoulders, hips moving instinctively, chasing the sensation.

Toji groaned, head tipping back against the headrest, his hands tightening on you. “That’s it, baby,” he muttered, voice rough. “Use me.”

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t think. He was so thick, so hard beneath you, and the slow drag of his clothed cock against your bare, slick folds was driving you insane.

You sobbed, hips rolling in desperate little movements, thighs shaking.

Toji groaned, watching you with half-lidded eyes, his jaw clenched. “Goddamn,” he muttered, voice low, thick. “Look at you, fuckin’ yourself on me like a needy little thing.” You whimpered, burying your face in his neck, overwhelmed.

But he wasn’t having that. One big hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to his. “Nah, pretty girl. You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted to get all worked up over dinner, let me take you out here and make a mess of you.”

Toji smirked, dark and mean, and suddenly, he was undoing his belt. “Alright, baby,” he rasped, shoving his slacks down just enough to free himself.

Thick. Heavy. Leaking at the tip.

Toji caught the way your thighs squeezed together and chuckled, rubbing the fat head of his cock against your dripping folds.

“Go on, princess,” he murmured, guiding you up, his tip catching against your entrance. “Sit that pretty pussy down on me.”

Your breath caught as Toji’s thick head pressed against your entrance, teasing, stretching, the barest push making you tremble. He didn’t rush, didn’t force—just held you there, gripping your hips, watching with dark, hooded eyes as you struggled to take him.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough, laced with hunger. “You can do it. Just a little more.”

You whined, nails digging into his shoulders, overwhelmed. He was too thick, too big, and the slow burn of him stretching you open had your thighs shaking.

Toji groaned, pressing a hand to your lower belly, feeling the way he was sinking into you, inch by inch. “Shit,” he muttered. “So tight, baby. You feel that?” He gave the lightest push, and you gasped, clenching around him. “Feel me deep in there?”

You nodded frantically, eyes glassy, mouth parted on a whimper.

He chuckled, dark and low, gripping your hips and pulling you down another inch.

You sobbed, thighs squeezing around his waist, toes curling in your heels.

Toji groaned, head tipping back against the seat, his hands flexing against your soft skin. “Fuck,” he rasped, voice raw. “This pussy’s a goddamn dream.”

Your head was spinning, legs trembling as he filled you, splitting you open in slow, agonizing inches.

“Breathe, baby,” Toji murmured, soothing but smug, stroking a rough hand up your spine. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ good.”

You tried, tried to steady yourself, but the stretch was so much, the pressure so intense—your walls fluttered around him, struggling to accommodate the sheer size of him.

Toji let out a low, satisfied groan, his fingers digging into your ass. “There she is,” he murmured, eyes dark, hooded with lust. “Knew you could take it.”

You barely had time to adjust before he shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the car floor.

You choked on a gasp, hands flying to his chest, nails biting into the fabric of his shirt.

Toji grinned, mean, before doing it again, forcing a desperate moan from your lips. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, dragging you forward, making you take him deeper. “Look at you, baby—sittin’ on my cock like you were made for it.”

You could barely think, barely breathe. Every inch of him stretched you so full, pressing into every sensitive spot, hitting deep, so deep—

Toji groaned, rolling his hips, slow and deliberate, watching the way your body trembled. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Feel how good I stretch this pretty little pussy?”

You whimpered, nodding weakly, and he chuckled, dragging his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

Your hands clawed at his chest, desperate, overwhelmed, hips jerking as he kept you trapped, held you there, letting you feel every thick inch of him.

“Gonna make a mess on me already, baby?” he murmured, pressing you down harder.

You sobbed, thighs shaking, the coil in your belly tightening too fast, too much-Toji growled, fingers tightening on your hips. “Go on, sweetheart,” he muttered, picking up the pace, fucking up into you with slow, deep thrusts. “Cum on my cock”

Your whole body tensed, a sharp gasp breaking from your lips as the pressure inside you snapped. Your vision blurred, head tipping back as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching down around him.

Toji groaned, teeth gritted, his grip bruising as he fucked you through it, dragging every last tremor from your shaking frame. “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice thick, his pace turning rougher, sloppier. “Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight—”

“Gonna fill you up, princess,” he muttered, thumb pressing into your swollen clit, making you jolt. “Stuff this little pussy full—“

With a deep, shuddering groan, Toji buried himself to the hilt, his grip on you unrelenting as he spilled inside, thick and hot.

You barely had the strength to move, panting against his shoulder, body trembling, slick and sweat-damp against his chest.

Toji huffed a low chuckle, one hand smoothing up your back, the other gripping your thigh possessively. “Shit, baby,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your temple. “Next time, we’re skipping dinner.”

#jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji smut

226 notes · View notes

dfstolenart · 3 days ago

Text

Home With You | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: After a long and emotionally exhausting day, you come home feeling overwhelmed from the weight of your job but luckily your sweet loving boyfriend is there to comfort you.

A/N: so cuteeeee, love this one. Lmk your thots<33

BYR (B4 u Reid): sweet Spencer!, hard day at work, hints at abuse, child gets taken away, sad reader, sweet talk, flirting and feeling of not being enough. | kissing <— [warnings]

Your home was dimly lit when you entered the smell of a vanilla candle filled your nose, and your boyfriend was on the couch with a book on his lap

The weight of the day still pressing on your shoulders, you shut the door quietly behind you and drop your bag down with little care to where it lands

The exhaustion isn’t just physical, it sits in your bones heavy and aching, like the stories you’ve heard today, the ones you can’t unhear. The ones that make you question if you’re even making a difference.

You forget you’re standing in the middle of the entry way until a soft gentle voice pull you out “You’re late.”

He’s still sat on the couch only this time his eyes are on you scanning your face the way he does when he profiles a suspect “I know.” You murmur as you kick off your shoes “Didn’t expect to be.”

You make your way towards him, and he quickly closes his book moving it to the side of him “Come here.” He softly says as he pulls you onto his lap “tough day?”

The laugh that leaves you is hallow “That’s one way to put it.” Before you can say anything else Spencer’s hand is cupping your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones

His touch is grounding, pulling you back from the spiral you feel yourself slipping into.

“Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head “not yet”

He nods, understanding in his eyes “okay”

You rest your head on him, and grab his hands interlacing them together

For a while neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. But Spencer is patient, he always is. He knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. Eventually you break the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

“There was a little boy today. Six years old. His mom.. she” your voice cracked “She wasn’t a monster, Spencer. She wasn’t some evil person, but she was sick, and he was the one paying for it.” You feel his arms tighten around you, and he presses a soft gentle kiss to the side of your head “I’m sorry” he murmurs

“I had to take him away. He cried the whole time for his mommy, telling me she didn’t mean it trying to convince me to take him back home.” Your eyes stung with tears and you squeeze them shut “I know I did the right thing, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Spencer sighed, and squeezed your hand “Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself if I’ve done the right thing? If all of us at the BAU have? We don’t always get happy endings. Sometimes we don’t even get closure, But what keeps me going, what keeps us all going is knowing that we tried. That we did everything we could.”

You met his gaze, searching for something understanding, reassurance. And you find it.

His hand leaves yours to brush a tear from your cheek “That little boy… he might not understand now, but one day, he will. And because of you he’ll have a chance at something better.”

You let out a shaky breath

“I just feel like I’m suffocating sometimes, like no matter how much I do it’s never enough for these kids. I want to do more for them, i wish I could just take all their pain from them.”

Spencer pulled you in closer to him “you’re doing more than enough.” You close your eyes allowing yourself to believe him, even if it’s just for tonight.

“I love you” you whisper

“I love you too.” He says, holding you tighter, as if he could shield you from all the darkness in the world.

Spencer holds you against him for a long time, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. His warmth, his presence, it’s enough to keep you tethered even when your mind still lingers on the weight of the day

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice lighter now, teasing “cuddling releases oxytocin, which reduces stress and promotes emotional bonding. So technically I am scientifically proven to be good for you.”

You both look at each other smiles both plastered on your faces “oh, is that so Dr. Reid?”

“Mhm” he hums clearly pleased with himself “Also prolonged physical affection can also lower blood pressure and improve someone’s overall mood. So, really, I’d be doing you a disservice if I let you go.”

Amusement flickered through your tired eyes “To me, that sounds like an excuse to keep me in your arms.”

He smirked “It’s science. Don’t argue against it.”

You shake your head rolling your eyes “I think you just like having me close.”

“I do” he admits easily, his voice dropping just slightly sending a shiver down your spine, his fingers continue to trail lightly up and down your arm “You’re warm, you smell good and well I’m very fond of you.”

“Fond of me?” You raised an eyebrow “You’re supposed to be utterly obsessed with me.”

He let out a small laugh “what if I say I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you? That I think about you every second we’re apart, and when you’re not in my arms, I wish you were.”

Your breath catches, your heart flutters you feel so special to hear these words come from the man in front of you “That's better.” you say

Spencer leans in, brushing his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. It's slow, lingering, and so sweet

Then he pulls back, you feel empty without his lips on yours “Then i’ll remind you every day for as long as I live.” your heart swelled

“You're really good at this whole comforting thing.” You smile as you rest your forehead against his, he grins “Well I do have an IQ of 18-”

“Shut up” you cut him off with a desperate kiss . . .

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid series #criminal minds bau

128 notes · View notes

akawifeyy · 21 hours ago

Text

friends with benefits | fic (FC43)

description: it’s six months into your relationship with formula one driver franco colapinto, but you’re still believing the delusional lie that there’s no strings attached.

tropes: no strings attached, he’s obsessed with you, playboy, girlfriend!fem!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: suggestive and mature content (!!), minor mentions of violence, swearing

| note: agh i love franco so much, i wish there was more f1 content with him

Franco kissed you, his touch soft as a feather while his fingers splayed across your skin, worshipping your curves. He knew every inch of you, committing it to memory like you’d evaporate in his arms if he didn’t do so. “Mmm, mi alma, I love you,” he murmured in the shell of your ear, his breath warm. “I don’t know how I could ever live without you.”

You froze, going deathly still, at a loss of words. I love you. This was the first time he had ever uttered that phrase, and you were struck dumb, unable to respond.

Noticing your distress, Franco cupped your cheek in reassurance, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grinned. “You don’t have to say it back. I understand. I want you to mean it when you do tell me it.”

“No, that’s not it,” you whispered, face flushing with embarrassment. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to break the spell and ruin the sweet moment. With Franco’s rapidly intensifying schedule, time between you was being whittled down more and more.

Franco’s eyebrows furrowed, concern etching lines in his face. “¿Que te pasa?”

Averting your gaze, you quickly blurted, “I didn’t realize we were so serious. I guess I still thought we were just hooking up, no strings attached. Hearing you say that…It’s just shocking.”

He reared back, dropping his hand from your face like he had been burnt. “Are you trying to tell me that there’s someone else you’d rather have been spending your time with?” His eyes hardened with hurt as he imagined you underneath some faceless man while he made love to you. In Franco’s mind, the two of you had been together since he’d taken you out on that first date in Buenos Aires, exploring his hometown with you by his side. Ever since then, you were inseparable. So why were you pretending otherwise?

You shook your head, suddenly feeling stupid. “No, of course not, I just assumed you’d find someone better and leave me. I thought all Formula One drivers were like that.”

Franco blinked. “There is no girl better than you, Y/N. And I’m not all Formula One drivers, I’m my own person.”

“Well…” You squirmed out of his reach, turning away from him as you fumbled for the right thing to say. “So, we’re… together? You want to be with me? For real?”

He nodded vigorously. “I’ve always wanted to be with you. I thought I made this clear.”

You twisted your lips, guilt gnawing at your insides. “It didn’t click. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been calling you mi novia to my parents ever since day one,” Franco said, expelling a breath. “Telling them that I’ve found my wife, I’ve found the woman I will marry and spend the rest of my days with. And the whole time you’ve been believing that we were nothing? Just fuck buddies?”

Heat permeated your skin, and you thought you might die from the humiliation. “I’m sorry, Franco.”

“You’re not just a good fuck for me, Y/N,” Franco hissed, stepping close to you and jerking your head up so you would be forced to look at him. Arousal pooled in your lower gut as you watched frustration grow in his piercing stare. “You’re my everything. Why else would I buy you everything you want? Why would I make you wear my jersey, hold your hand in public, warn other men off and threaten to chop their dicks off? Just to have some fun?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his words sunk in. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t understand how upset I am with you,” Franco retorted. He tugged you roughly, crashing his lips against your forehead. “Mierda. Six months, and you really thought you were just another warm body for me?”

You covered your mouth with your hands, all semblances of speech eradicated.

“You’re not. Get that idea out of your head.” Franco’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We’re not fuck buddies, or some other crazy shit. We do have strings attached, because I’m in love with you. And I’m never giving you up for another woman. Not in a thousand years.”

You inclined your head. “OK, if you say so.”

“Good.” Franco touched your chin again with one finger. “Now let’s get back to what we were doing, hm?”

A moan broke free as he lowered your shirt, revealing the bare skin of your shoulder and collarbones. A flurry of kisses were embedded as his own shirt was removed and you were placed carefully on the bed. He positioned himself on top, his strong arms barricading you and muscles flexing as he began working his way down to your pussy. When your skirt was tossed on the floor along with your panties, he began his conquest, two fingers sliding in you without much difficulty.

“It’s like you’re built for me,” Franco growled. “So fucking ready.”

You swallowed back another moan as he extricated his fingers, instead replacing it with his cock.

“¿Todo bien?” he asked a few minutes later, languidly thrusting as sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. “Do I need to stop?”

You shook your head feebly. “No, please, Franco,” you mewled.

“I hope you know that I adore you, hermosa. I don’t care if this is too much, too soon, because my emotions are going to swallow me whole if I don’t tell you.” Franco groaned as he dug deeper, his entire body pulsing with unspent energy as his release neared. “You live in my every heartbeat, you linger in my thoughts. When I am away from you, I feel like I will die.”

“I...” Your breath was shaky as you continued, “I love you, Franco.”

“If my legacy is to be your lover, then so be it,” he added. “Haría cualquier cosa por ti.”

And together, the pleasure that had been steadily mounting reached its breaking point, and you unraveled together.

Two souls, in sync. The way you wanted it to be forever.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #fc43 #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #formula one #f1 fic #f1 writer #f1 fanfic #f1 smau

122 notes · View notes

scoupsakakitty · 20 hours ago

Note

Hii hellooo, may i have a request like svt 14th fem member youngest like they care abt platonically and protective specially when there's some male idol who wants to hit on her? Or like whenever they are shooting and some people stare at her, or during live some like that and like they become protective but the reader doesn't have any clue thank youu

Unspoken Rules | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

"Y/N, stand over here," Seungcheol murmured, subtly guiding her to the middle of the group as they prepared for a live broadcast.

Y/N blinked up at him, confused. "Why? What's wrong with my spot?"

"Nothing. Just... better camera angle," he answered smoothly, glancing over at Joshua, who was already nodding in silent agreement.

"Right," Y/N said, unconvinced but not questioning it further.

The members had always been protective of her—she was their youngest, after all. But lately, something had been feeling... off. Like there were unspoken rules she wasn't aware of.

The broadcast started, and everything seemed normal—until she noticed the way Jeonghan casually placed a hand on the back of her chair whenever a certain male idol sitting across from them spoke to her. Or how Mingyu laughed a little too loudly whenever she responded to said idol’s questions, effectively drowning out the conversation.

It wasn’t until later, when she scrolled through comments, that she saw fans noticing it too.

"LMAO the way Seventeen turns into a human shield whenever a guy talks to Y/N." "DK literally just changed the topic mid-sentence when that dude asked for her number." "Do they realize she’s an adult? 😭"

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay," she started as she marched into their waiting room, crossing her arms. "What is going on?"

The room went silent. Some members pretended to check their phones, others suddenly found their drinks very interesting.

"You guys are acting weird," she pressed.

"We're always weird," Vernon pointed out, unhelpfully.

"Don't change the subject!" She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me why you guys keep acting like my personal security team every time a guy so much as looks at me."

A long pause. Then, Woozi sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, Y/N, you’re our little sister. We don’t trust these guys."

"Yeah," Hoshi nodded seriously. "Some of them seem... too interested."

"Too interested?" she repeated, confused.

"Like, flirting," Jun clarified, making a face as if the word itself was offensive.

Her jaw dropped. "Wait. You guys think they—?" She burst out laughing. "You guys are ridiculous."

Seungkwan scoffed. "Oh yeah? Tell that to the dude who tried to ask for your number last week."

"What?! When? Who?"

"Exactly," Dino muttered. "You don’t even notice."

Minghao crossed his arms. "That’s why we have to."

Y/N stared at them, realizing just how deep their protectiveness ran. It wasn’t just playful big-brother energy—they genuinely looked out for her.

She sighed, shaking her head. "And what if I want to finally meet someone? What if I wanted to give him my number?" She looked at them, exasperated. "You guys can’t protect me forever."

Seungcheol, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, his voice firm but gentle. "Yes, we can. And we will. Until we know for sure that the guy is good enough for you."

The room hummed in agreement.

"Exactly." "Facts." "Scoups speaks for all of us."

Y/N groaned dramatically and fell backward onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. "I can’t win against you guys, can I?"

"Nope," Jeonghan grinned, ruffling her hair again.

She huffed but couldn't help the small smile creeping onto her face. Maybe having thirteen overprotective brothers wasn’t so bad after all.

155 notes · View notes

w0lvierama · 1 day ago

Text

SFW

Boyfriend!Megumi, who tries to be sweet just for you. He’s not good at it, but he tries his best. He’s sure to tell you he loves you often, not wanting you to ever doubt your relationship with him. He kisses your forehead when you’re worried, always reassuring you that he’ll take care of things for you, no matter what. He gets embarrassed when you hold his hand in public, but he doesn’t pull away.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who is not one for pet names. He gets awkward when he tries to call you anything other than your name. However, you can’t help but notice how the tips of his ears grow red whenever you sweetly make up dumb nicknames for him. His favorite nicknames tend to be the dumber ones. He’ll sarcastically say that you’re going to make him sick with how sweet you are.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who always comes to you when he’s exhausted. He’ll melt into your arms, cuddling you as he tries to get the good sleep you tell him he needs. He sleeps a lot easier around you, and doesn’t get his usual nightmares. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair while he’s dozing.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who summons his shikigami for you to cuddle with, because he knows how much you love animals. His shikigami are always happy to see you.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who saves up his allowance to buy you books and clothes. He won’t admit it, but seeing you light up and smile whenever he gets you a gift, makes his day so much better. Most of your jewelry is from him.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who gets his driver’s license and a car, so that you don’t have to take a taxi anymore and he can see you more often. He’ll drop you off at work, leaning over to mutter in your ear, “Have a good day. Call me if you need anything.” He’ll then kiss your cheek, and give your knee a squeeze.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who doesn't like you wearing skirts out in public because he’s worried you’ll be harassed. He’ll walk beside you on the street, a hand on the small of your back, glowering anytime someone else looks at you. He gets jealous easily, and can be a bit insecure about your relationship.

Boyfriend!Megumi, who only smiles when you’re around. You’re the only person who doesn’t annoy him constantly. He’ll act annoyed sometimes, but you can see right through him.

Boyfriend!Yuji Next! SFW again!

After Boyfriend!Yuji is Boyfriend!Choso. If you guys have any requests feel free to leave them in the comments. Otherwise, the ones I do next will probably be JJk Men as husbands. I’m not opposed to doing Part 2 of some of the boyfriends either.

#jjk fluff #jjk #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #Megumi gets his drivers license #headcanon #megumi x reader

128 notes · View notes

sidemari · 3 days ago

Text

Aftercare Headcanons

Characters included: Hwei, Jinx, Kayn, Viktor, Yone x GN!Reader

Author's notes: I hope you enjoy this and forgive me any mistakes! Let me know if you have any requests about this fandom.

Picture: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/8585055533861864/

Hwei

He can get clingy after sex, mainly because he feels extremely safe by your side.

He will usually make sure that everything is okay with you, if you felt respected and satisfied with the way he made you feel and especially if you are in need of something specific.

After sex, he will always treat you as if you were the most fragile and most lovable person in the world.

Compliments and declarations of love are his strong point. Hwei will murmur words of reassurance and express what he feels for you almost as if he were reciting poetry.

"Whenever I'm alone with you… You make me feel like I'm whole again." He kissed your lips slowly before climbing back on top of you, straddling your lap, and looking at you with eyes full of love and desire. "I can't get enough of you… Let me keep loving you."

"Touch me, yeah." You guided his hand to your chest. "Make me feel like I'm alive again."

Jinx

Usually Jinx will openly proclaim how essential you are for her to feel grounded in such a chaotic and cruel world.

Regardless of how hectic, overwhelming and overstimulating your sex was, she makes sure you know that just being by your side after such an intimate moment is just as good, if not infinitely better than loving you all night.

She will reassure you as she worships your body, compliments how beautiful you are and talks about how your expressions and bodily reactions are extremely precious to her.

"Remember when we first met as kids?" Her voice was a mere whisper.

"Yeah, I do. I'll always remember that day." You pulled her for a delicate kiss yet still trying to get as much as you could of her before parting for air.

"That night… You ran into my heart so carelessly, so abruptly… And…" You encouraged her to continue by caressing her cheek with affection. "And fuck… I'm glad I was wondering those streets at dawn for I met you and now I can't imagine a future where we don't belong together."

Kayn

It's not uncommon for you to feel overstimulated after having sex with Kayn. He's a passionate lover, his touches are almost desperate, his kisses are needy and fervent and he's not at all ashamed to admit that he loves to break you whenever the mood allows.

That said, the aftercare he usually provides you is to try to meet your needs as best he can.

He always cleans you with soft towels while you regain enough energy to get up and take a shower. He'll usually bring you water or some other drink of your choice or even something for you to eat, if that's what you want.

Some of the comments about the marks he's capable of leaving on your body are made to tease you, because he knows you get embarrassed. And if there's anything as good as having you under him, completely under his control, it's seeing the way you behave when you're embarrassed.

"You're mine." He whispered against your neck before returning to suck it, finishing the last mark of the night.

"Kayn… This is going to be hard to hide."

"That's the point." He fell beside you, pulling your body against his. "Do you want me to make you a hot chocolate in a little while?"

"You're trying to distract me from the fact that you marked me in every way possible today."

"Maybe, but… A hot chocolate would be nice right now, wouldn't it?" He kissed your shoulder before chuckling softly.

Viktor

Already posted this as an alone work, but wanted to add here as well.

He's the kind of guy who cares about your well-being before, during, and after you have sex.

It's not uncommon for him to stay with your body cuddled against his while your heavy breathing and overstimulation slowly fade away.

Cuddles, words of reassurance, slow and affectionate kisses, massages wherever you may be sore and a relaxing bath together after sex are essential for him to show you how absurdly perfect and important you are to him.

One of the greatest proofs of love that Viktor can show you is to sleep next to you (always after you, due to his protective instinct) and stay by your side all night, making sure to still be with you when you wake up, even if he has countless responsibilities and unfinished projects.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Good morning, Vitya." His fingers stroked your hair as you wiped the sleep from your eyes.

"Thank you for yesterday. You were absolutely perfect." A certain embarrassment took over you at the compliment, making you hide your face against his neck, inhaling that welcoming scent.

"Maybe I'll have to drag you out of your lab more often." You murmured.

Yone

He cares about you a lot, that's the essence of him as your partner. You always come first and even though you insist that he deserves to let himself be vulnerable and be taken care of by you, Yone prefers to provide you with everything you need before thinking about himself.

He carefully checks to see if he left any marks on you that might be sore later, apologizing as he gently kisses the marked spots.

Usually you stay silent after sex, just enjoying each other's company and warmth.

Every single time Yone caresses your hair until you relax enough to sleep and occasionally murmurs an "I love you" when he thinks you've already fallen asleep.

"I love you so much." He murmured against your hair.

"I love you so much too, Yone." You whispered back, snuggling even closer against his chest.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I want to enjoy this moment with you a little longer. It's been so long since…" Your voice voice went quiet.

"Yes, I know." His hand rested on your thigh, caressing it. "But I'm here now and I'll never leave your side again."

Other works of mine:

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770889163155357696/love-hurts?source=share (Viktor x Fem!Reader)

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770262867164512256/reunited?source=share (Viktor x Fem!Reader)

https://www.tumblr.com/sidemari/770344104203862016/hii-ur-smut-is-scrumptious-can-you-do-size?source=share (Jinx x Fem!Reader)

Songs I've been inspired by to write this work:

The Cure - Lovesong

Pearl Jam - Black

Dream, Ivory - Welcome and goodbye

The Neighborhood - A little death

#viktor x reader #viktor smut #yone x reader #yone smut #jinx x reader #jinx smut #hwei x reader #hwei smut #kayn x reader #kayn smut #arcane x reader #arcane smut #viktor viktor viktor #man i'm having insomnia

84 notes · View notes

sv3t1ana · 12 hours ago

Text

SYNOPSIS ᯓ You were always meant to be nothing. A servant, a shadow in the grand halls, another soul swallowed by his world. And yet, he sees you. Knows you better than you want to be known. When you stop running, was it ever a chase at all?

PAIRING ᯓ trueform! Sukuna x fem! reader

WARNINGS ᯓ fem! reader, throat fucking, Sukuna is murderous, choking (barely), oral (m + f receiving), two cocks (one hole), second mouth, he's lowkey down bad for you, stomach bulge, he cries, choking on it, he wants everyone to hear you, you're lowkey jealous because he fucks you so well.

WORD COUNT ᯓ 3.4k

SERIES ᯓ GOJO ⋮ GETO ⋮ CHOSO ⋮ SUKUNA

No time for anything but duty.

Dawn was yet to break when you stirred from your thin, pearl white bedding, the distant toll of a gong signaled the start of another day to service the King of Curses. Frigid air coming from your open window causing goosebumps to kiss your skin, fingers stiff while you pushed upward to swing your feet off the bed.

The grand hall awaited.

Moving quickly through the dim corridors, your footsteps slapped against the stone. Other servants were bouncy, murmuring among themselves as they hurried to their own tasks. For some reason, Sukuna preferred you. That fact alone ensured you were allowed no leisure, no freedom, no pleasure.

The grand hall was vast, towering pillars with gilded braziers. It was your responsibility to rekindle them, to sweep away the remnants from last night’s indulgences. Scattered bones, wine stains, the destruction Sukuna left wherever he went. You worked in silence, sweeping, scrubbing, making sure to leave not a trace of mess before he entered.

By midday, your monotonous duties led you to Sukuna’s chambers. A cavernous space lined with dark silks and the ever-present scent of blood. You moved with your usual practiced efficiency, wiping down the lacquered surfaces and straightening furnishings. All while listening, there was always something to hear.

Today it was Uraume’s voice, calm and collected.

“They begged for mercy.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and amused. “Did they?”

“You slew them anyway.”

“Their supplications did but offend me,” he spoke, tone laced with disdain, waving his hand dismissively. “To levy demands upon one such as I… how unworthy the breath spent.”

Uraume didn’t argue. They never did. No one did.

It was always like this, he destroyed for no reason. No one dared to question it.

A heavy presence filled the room as you straightened the last piece of furniture. A kind of presence that made the hairs along your arms raise before you turned. You knew what was about to happen.

“You are slow today.”

His voice was smooth. You kept your eyes down, focusing on the task at hand.

“I am thorough,” you corrected, wringing the cloth in your hands over the soapy water bucket.

“Hm.”

A single sound. You’ve been here long enough to hear his smirk.

You swallowed the sharp retort that rested on your taste buds and moved toward the door when you finished your last task. Before you could reach it—

“Woman.”

You stopped, not by choice but because it was a command. Even if it wasn’t meant to be.

“Do you find my chambers displeasing?”

You blinked once, face expressionless. “I find them filthy.”

Another pause, then a laugh. Though not cruel, but entertained.

“Good.”

He merely watched as you turned on your heel and left.

You hated him.

You hated everything about him.

His arrogance, his amusement of suffering, the way he looked at you as though he were waiting for something, like one day you might offer him more than disdain.

You hated being here at all. That all your life was to serve him. Losing all purpose and reduced to serving a homicidal monster who thought himself a god.

And yet, he preferred you. That was the worst part.

He would never let you be. That's why you were the only servant allowed to perform duties inside his personal chambers. It made you wonder why you were always given the task of cleaning up after him, it was like he wanted you to see what he did.

It had been weeks of the same grueling routine of your new schedule, of enduring his presence and feeling the unwieldy weight of his gaze even when you weren’t looking. You should have expected it, that sooner or later he would grow tired of the silent treatment.

Your summons came at dusk. One of the lesser servants palpitating as they spoke.

The lord has requested you.

His chamber was dimly lit, braziers casting shadows against the silk-draped walls. Sukuna was reclined, one arm against the curve edged atop his throne.

“Woman.”

You stopped a few paces before him, reluctantly bowing to the floor.

“Lord.” The word seared your tongue, burning like embers from a growing flame.

A slow smirk grew on his lips. “How obedient.”

He studied you for a moment, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. Exhaling through his nose like he was disappointed, “you hate me.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Is it amusing to state the obvious, my lord?”

He chuckled, “I find amusement in many things.” A pause, then quieter, more deliberate, “you, most of all.”

Your fingers twitched, brows furrowing slightly as your eyes narrowed. “Then find new entertainment.”

His smirk widened. More certainty than mockery from before.

“You loathe me,” he mused. “And yet, here you stand. When I call, you come.”

“I am a servant.”

“A servant whose words do not wane. And yet, you do not leave.”

You swallowed, no response to give. Truth is you took up being a servant for added protection and the free rent. Beforehand, you had been struggling to make ends meet for years. Now, you are one of the longest lasting servants Sukuna had the pleasure of employing. You could leave, sure, at the expense of your life. But you already gave your life up to serve him. It was this or death.

Sukuna leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Is it duty that keeps you here?” His eyes flickered, “or something else?”

Your breath caught halfway down your throat.

There it was, the shift. The shift you refused to acknowledge, the one he stoically waited for you to realize.

The thing is, he didn’t demand it. He didn’t ask. He simply made it inevitable.

And you hated him for it.

The silence between you stretched. You should have scoffed and turned on your heel already, leaving without another word. But here you were, feet remaining on the polished floor, fingers gripping the inside of your sleeves.

Sukuna only watched, an unreadable expression you’ve grown to detest. He had no smug grin, no sharp amusement. Only patience. He was waiting like he always did.

Your jaw clenched while your eyes darted to the floor. “You are mistaken if you think—”

He shifted and rose to his feet in one shift motion. The space between you disappeared too quickly. His presence was overwhelming, looming over him the thousands of innocent lives taken for the sake of amusement. Entertainment. One clawed finger reached forward, catching the edge of your chin and tilting your face upward.

“Am I?”

His voice was low, deep. Something sent heat crawling through your blood vessels, blaze threatening to set your skin on fire.

“You assume much,” you bit out. Resisting the instinct to pull away, resisting the urge every cell in your body was screaming at you for to pull away. After all, he would win if you did.

“I assume nothing.” His thumb brushed the curve of your jaw, cocking his head back to truly look down at you. “I see.”

Your breath was uneven, rage and something else twisting in your chest creating the perfect mixture of rage, uneasiness, desire? “And what is it you think you see?”

A deliberate smile spread across his face slowly.

“A human who does not flinch.” His fingers traced lower, skimming your throat before resting his fingers around the back of your neck and thumb resting lightly in the curve between your collarbones.

“A human who has spent years writhing over a hatred that wavers.”

“No.” You answered, “you’re wrong.”

He hummed, stepping back and releasing the hold around you. Giving you just enough space to breathe, but not enough space to release you from the metaphorical tether he tied, binding you both together.

“Perhaps,” he pondered. “Or perhaps you are afraid of what hatred becomes when it festers too long.”

There was an invitation, a challenge in his tone. Something else entirely different from the usual amuse present in his gaze.

You should leave.

Walk away.

Turn and never come back.

But you didn’t.

That was all the answer he needed.

The worst part was he never saw you as weak, he didn’t dismiss you like he did other servants. He knew you would kneel before him willingly so there was no point in asking. Instead, he lured, pulled, and twisted until you were the one standing too close.

He leaned in, breath ghosting over your ear and down your neck. “Tell me, human,” he murmured. “If your hate is so pure, why is it that you linger?”

You could only shake your head, will your heart to stop its swift pace.

Moments of silence pass, Sukuna feeling you through his eyes, arms crossed across his chest while you kept your gaze low and head slightly bowed.

“What is it that you want?”

He smiled, slow and knowing. “Ah,” he said, tilting his head and bringing his hand up to his chin as if he was in great contemplation. “Finally, the right question.”

“You know what I want,” he continued, his voice nothing over a small rumble. “The real question is, what is it that you seek?”

Your breath stilled, he was doing it again.

Twisting, digging, forcing you to see something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

You hated him.

And yet—you wanted him.

He hummed and walked away, turning around half way to curl his finger at you, petitioning you to follow. You did just that, unsure of how this all happened. How had you got here in the first place? Your own feet brought you here, yet you barely remember the journey. Here you remain, following your lord where his bed lay.

It’s then that he grabbed your body whole, whipping you around to face him while he sat on his bed as you stood between his legs.

“Well?” He began after moments of stillness and silence. “On your knees.” While he gripped the crown of your head and pushed you to the floor.

You didn’t resist. In fact, you obliged without hesitation.

You skillfully opened his robe to reveal his rock hard length. Holding back a gasp at the sight before you—two cocks. Nimbly gripping both with each hand, choking each while you lapped your tongue on both tips, spitting and letting it drip to his base, giving each equal treatment.

He watched before you, an expressionless face as you loved on his cocks, reacting indifferently.

You gazed up with inquisition to watch his reaction as you dragged your tongue down one and began pumping a steady rhythm with the other in hand.

He let out a quiet hiss, almost too quiet for your dept ears to hear when you completely enveloped him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his length while his cock head grazed your uvula, causing you to gag. You coughed around his cock, letting dribbles of spit mixed with his precum drip from your mouth to his base. You sucked and sucked, pinching your cheeks around his thick veiny circumference.

You only popped! your mouth off him when you felt his hips jerk in attempt to throat-fuck you. It wasn’t now that he was allowed that control. Not after the nauseating consciousness he forced upon you earlier.

Lowering your lids while you traced the veins up and down his second cock, using your free hands to jerk his other, twisting in tandem, squeezing tightly when you reached his angry red tip. You pointed your tongue and circled his tip and opening, as if to tease the one you serve.

You watched as his eyes narrowed, you saw the way he held back his moans. You saw the way he had to fight his body going limp by positioning his arms to brace his upper body behind him.

You embraced his second cock in your mouth, this time letting one hand pump the length your mouth couldn’t reach. He brought his hand out to smack yours away, gripping the back of your skull and pushing you down.

You choked, coughed, gagged. Tears brimming the corner of your eyes when you moaned and adjusted to the sensation of his cock in your throat.

And he was so deep you were sure he could see the outline of it. His breath quickened for a moment before he pulled you off. “Enough.” He said calmly. He wasn’t calm.

He grabbed your forearms to pull you atop him, forcing your clothed pussy to graze his spit covered, sloppy cocks.

“Your garments. Remove them at once.” He demanded.

You did as told, taking your time in attempt to mock him. Pulling your shirt over your head slowly to reveal your braless chest. You watched his blank face, not missing the way his pupils dilated ever-so-slightly when your rotund tits bounced out from the fabric holding them back. He gripped one firmly in his large hand, letting the plush tissue of your breast pillow between his fingers as he massaged with greedy desire, letting out a quiet hm like he was deciding something, or rather, coming to a conclusion.

He wanted this just as much as you.

When you removed your pants and panties he grabbed your waist tightly to position you so your pussy would grind against his cocks that lay on his naturally-defined abs.

“Hah,” he laughed. Feeling your dripping cunt coat him in even more of your sweet fluids. “Ready for me already, are you?” He still gripped you with two hands, using an extra hand he slapped your pussy. The sound of it squelching filled the empty room as he kept slapping it, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull.

You splayed your fingers on his chest for support, looking up at him with a distressed look on your face when he positioned his first cock at your entrance.

“Human, can you not handle me?” It was a rhetorical question. Not that you’d give him the pleasure of hearing your answer even if it wasn’t.

You furrowed your brows and sat down as if to prove a point, filling yourself up immediately with one of his cocks, ignoring the pain, the sting you felt while he nearly tore you apart.

He gritted his teeth, “I see now.” He smiled, “you are too inexperienced.”

You stuffed yourself repeatedly, almost seeing stars every time your hips descended at the limited capacity your small body had in comparison to him. “Inexperienced?” you huffed out between breaths, tears rolling down your cheeks and eyes pinched shut. “My lord… should you… expect me to… lay with more men?”

“I never said such a thing.” He growled, seeking the strength to resist stuttering his hips from your painfully languid pace. He didn’t want to hurt you too much.

You felt your walls begin to flutter around his cock already, your clit hitting the wet tongue of the mouth on his stomach every time you filled yourself with him. It had been only a few minutes of this, and yet your body still hasn’t adjusted. He had a good two inches that wouldn’t fit. His tip was already kissing your cervix, the ache that rang through your entire body like a bell when your poor pussy couldn’t keep up with even a slow pace. He was painfully large.

“Make haste, human.” He spoke, lowering his lids and sucking an inhale through his lips. “Hasten your pattern. Reach your precipice.”

You felt the building pressure in your stomach when he spoke, the coil tightening in your abdomen as you lost composure and came from a single one of his cocks alone when you felt him internally grunt and muscles tighten beneath your palms. Your body nearly went limp, as when you went to collapse forward he caught you, switching positions quickly so you lay on your back with him between your legs, now pulled out from your entrance.

“Inadequate,” he voiced, gripping both cocks with either hand, centered at your entrance. “This shall be rectified at once.”

And before you knew it, he was inching both of his cocks inside you. It burned, it felt as if he was searing you apart, like you were a fly compared to an elephant. The throb you felt radiating through you that started at your center, the sweet, sweet throb.

You saw the way he looked up at you, looking for permission to continue. You threw your head back whimpering, gripping the sheets at your sides with your mouth agape. Looking at him once more to see him avert his concerned gaze turn into a more nonchalant one.

“You must take this.” He looked down, having the tongue on his lower stomach dart out to lap at your folds, caressing your clit with care as if to soothe your pain.

He took the hint when you linked your ankles behind his sculpted back, pulling him in. He gripped your thighs, threw your ankles above his shoulders and pulled your body to him. Letting him fill up as much as possible before hitting the limit.

Getting in another inch or two, he began his erratic pace. Grunting as he thrusts, he held a wicked, evil smirk on his face while he gripped your waist like you’d run away.

“I… I still hate you,” you reminded him. Sukuna made you drunk. It was the pain, the pleasure, the agony from losing this fight with him. He only let out a demented laugh in response.

You panted loudly, clenching around his length as if it were a lifeline. You’d gotten somewhat used to his size with just one cock, and now he fucked you apart with both. It was truly a transcendental experience, pain morphing into pleasure, hate turning into a reluctant passion.

He removed one cock and began fucking you at an erratic pace with the other. His other cock slapping your stomach each time he snapped his hips, rutting into you and grunting like an animal.

You were still so tight, and now his one cock could fit fully inside you, like he really did stretch you out to fit him. He saw the bulge of himself outlining your lower abdomen, giggling to himself.

“You humans,” he huffed out, voice low and gritty, “are so fragile.”

Your moans only became louder when he pounded faster, deeper. At one point deciding to cover your own mouth in attempt to lower your voice from being heard, he smacked it away.

“You must not.” He commanded. “The estate must be apprised of our connection.”

He then brought his calloused hand to rest at the base of your neck, teetering on the edge of just barely gripping you but still keeping you in his hold. Your fingers linked behind his neck, beckoning him to come closer.

Your lips met, kissing for the first time and sharing breaths, moaning in his mouth. And fuck, was he a good kisser. You wondered if he’d ever done this before… and with who.

His lips devoured yours like he’d been waiting years for your arrival. Like he could never get enough. It was such a stark contrast to his usual bloodthirsty demeanor. He was ruthless in having you, lying in wait for you to realize what you already knew. The festered hatred splitting in two to create something new. The fire burning in your chest with hate wasn’t so different from the fire in the pit of your stomach as his cock alone made you cum for the second time tonight.

Sukuna rarely demanded, and he never chased. He simply stood, watched, and waited.

When the moment came, and years lying in wait for the moment when you turned toward and not away, he would not gloat. He would only smirk, as if to say, finally.

For all his taunting, smug certainty, he was just as bound to you as you were to him, your lord. Something about you was different than the rest of the servants. The care and precision you put into your duties was different than their usual mindless acts of submission. Your defiance was sharp and deliberate. You may serve him, but you never belonged to him.

And that was what he sought most from humans and rarely found. Not a servant, not obedience, but you. Entirely and willingly consumed by something stronger than hatred.

That’s why he gravitated towards you, and that’s why he picked you to be the first human to ever become intimate with him.

Therefore he waited. He waited for the moment you’d stop resisting the inevitable. For the moment you were his just as he, in the depths of his cruel, stubborn heart, was yours.

Which is why when he expended himself, painting your walls with thick ropes after ropes of cum, room filled with the slowing slap of skin, grunts, panting, smelling of shared sweat and sex, you just had to ask,

“My lord, are you crying?”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #hate fuck #jjk fic #he's lowkey in love with you #sweet but psycho

85 notes · View notes