#i can see it so clearly in my head like the silence between them and they're nodding their head in silence and then one of them says

[deadsetobsessions]

‘Was I that small?’

The waterlogged Red Hood had stopped dead in the streets, helmeted head frozen in place by the sight of a young boy lifting tires from an older (newer?) version of a car he knew by heart. Water dripped off of his jacket, the steady and quiet plops of water cracked like gun shots in between the sudden silence.

Blue eyes widened, darted down to assess his threat levels (high, screamed the guns in his holsters. Run, screamed the plated armor covering his entire body), and the boy stiffened.

Red Hood knew the boy as well as he knew himself, because the boy is him, and lunged before the little shit made a break for it, knocking the tire iron out of the kid’s hands as he does.

“No!” The boy- himself, a younger Jason Todd- screamed. Desperate and terrified, he flailed in the air as Jason lifted him up and out by the back of his sweatshirt. “No! Fuck you, you boob!”

Jason put his hand over the kid’s mouth and, in a move made with only stupidity in mind, dashed towards an alley. The kid kicked harder. Jason approved of mini Jason’s actions, even if it made it that much harder to escape without Batman being alerted. Never let them take you to a secondary location. Jason did, and look where it got him. Killed within years of becoming a child soldier. Good thing for his younger self- Jay, Jason decided arbitrarily and definitely without input- Jason’s about to save him the same fate.

“Listen kid, I need you to-” that is a child, do not tell a child to shut the fuck up “-quiet down, or Bat’s gonna get both of us.”

“Fuck you!”

Jason sighed. “Yeah, alright. Look.” Jason took off his helmet, yanking off the domino underneath with an impressive feat of acrobatics.

Jay went limp in his hand, mouth agape.

Jason grappled up to a roof and set the kid down cautiously. He waited.

And waited.

And-

“Are you another older brother?” There it- wait, what?

“Huh?” He grunted, baffled. Then he gagged a bit. That sounded like B. Ew.

“Y’know, like Danny?”

And oh, he hadn’t thought about Danny since forever. The brother that joined a gang to support them only to die. Jason felt a bit like a piece of shit.

But it made for a good cover. Jason barely managed to keep the grimace off his face.

“Yep.” What was it Alfred said? In for a penny, in for a pound? Jason already changed the future by snatching the kid before B could, even if he was half confused from his trip into the bay and apparently through time. “Yeah. The old man slept around.”

Bruce really did sleep around some. Fuck if he remembered anything about Willis though.

“Of course he did.” Jay grumbled, looking less wary but still ready to dip. “So, uh, what’s with the get up? You some kind of… criminal knockoff of Batman?”

Jason looked down. Right.

“Thought it’d be funny to steal his symbol,” Jason replied shortly. It rankled, but he didn’t have any other explanation that wasn’t a defensive ‘the symbol is mine by right.’ He sighed. Jason couldn’t believe he was already missing the old man. He’s not in his timeline though, clearly, and Jason’s been through enough bullshit to know he had a lot of work to do to get back to his time. For now…

“Name’s Peter. Peter Jason Todd.”

Jay wrinkled his nose. “We pretty much have the same name, gross.”

Jason, no, Peter, snorted. Jay didn’t know the half of it. “Never said our parents were creative, kid. Now, how about we get some burgers? I’m starving.”

“… Ya gonna go like that? People looking atcha can tell you’re a threat. Ain’t no way I’m bringing you back to my bolt with you looking like that. Ms. Rand’s gonna have a heart attack.”

Peter rolled his eyes, making sure his counterpart could see it. “Be right back. Don’t move.” He pointed sternly at the kid’s forehead.

“Where the hell am I gonna go, over the edge?” Jay snarked back.

——

Jason’s heart was still thrumming in his throat. If you told him he’d be sitting with another older brother in a burger joint two hours ago, he woulda hit you with a tire iron. But shit, he would have appreciated the heads up.

Coming face to face with an unknown Bat built like a brick shit house and packing enough heat to mow down the Alley’s mobs was terrifying enough, considering he was actively robbing another Bat of his tires.

Then, confirmation that Willis slept around? Great. Perfect. At least the chances of this ‘Peter Todd’ killing him went way down.

“Damn, how are you putting away more food than me?” Jason watched as Peter all but unhinged his jaw to inhale the burgers he bought. Jason’s own burger was sitting in front of him.

“These muscles don’t maintain themselves, shrimp.”

Jason scowled, taking a bite of his burger before promptly inhaling it too.

“Slow down. Your stomach’s not used to that much food in one go. Give it time to adjust or else you’ll end up puking.” Peter advised. And yeah, Jason can tell what kind of life Peter’s lived before he became… whatever he is now. The man looked suspiciously unsuspicious in sweats and a t-shirt. Where he procured those, Jason didn’t know. Nevertheless, Jason begrudgingly slowed down. Jason’s gonna interrogate this new brother of his, and then he’ll decide if he needs to ditch or keep.

The image of Peter’s gear and obvious competency in beating the shit out of people flashed through his head. He’ll decide to ditch if Peter lets him ditch, Jason amended. There’s no way he’ll be able to run if Peter doesn’t let him.

��—

Jason: I need a fake name

Also Jason: Peter Jason Todd

Jason, trying to calm his younger self: quick! Brag about yourself!

Baby!Jason: ew what a dork *relaxes*

Baby!Jason is all judgmental sass and zero fucks.

Little Jay has a run in with an unknown bat on that fateful night

Day 1 for @jasontoddweek2025 prompt for “time travel” and “the Batmobile tires”

[deansbeer]

hey girl. i love telepath! reader. ik it’s not halloween yet but i can literally see her trying to match bolt and be a playboy bunny. how do you think dean would react to that?🩷

oh, mans would so malfunction at the sight of her in a playboy bunny costume ‼️ + thank u sm for loving telepath!reader !!! it truly makes my lil heart so happy to hear <33

you're standing in your room, carefully applying the finishing touches to your halloween makeup as bolt lounges lazily on your bed, watching you with his twitching nose and curious little eyes. as usual, you're talking to him like he's your personal stylist.

"what do you think, bolt? the black ones or the pink ones?" you hold up two options of bunny ears in front of him. he doesn’t move, just stares, but you take his silence as an answer. "black it is. good choice, bub. classy."

he's your little partner-in-crime tonight, at least in spirit. you're going as a playboy bunny, and bolt, well, he's the inspiration behind the whole thing. he’s staying behind with dean and sam, though. you'd asked dean earlier if he could bunny-sit, and of course, he agreed. it wasn't like you asked him to do much—just keep an eye on the little furball while you were out.

you glance at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything is in place. the black satin bodysuit fits you like a glove, hugging your curves in all the right places. the sheer black tights make your legs look impossibly long, and the stilettos you chose—which you're still not entirely sure you won’t regret later—add the perfect touch. the bunny ears sit atop your head, completing the look.

"how do i look, bolt?" you ask, turning to face him with a grin. he twitches his ears, and you laugh. "yeah, i thought so. stunning, right?"

bolt doesn't answer, obviously, but you like to think he's silently hyping you up.

when you step out of your room, holding bolt in one arm and fixing the bunny ears as you walk, you head toward the library where sam and dean are. sam's sitting at the table, nose buried in some kind of research, while dean is leaning back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers.

you adjust one of your heels as you step into the room, the soft click of them echoing in the quiet space. both of their heads snap up when they hear you.

"so?" you say, smiling as you approach the table. "how do i look?”

sam's the first to speak, a warm smile spreading across his face. "wow, you look great. very… festive."

you laugh, setting bolt gently on the table in front of him. "thanks, sam. you're watching him while dean drops me off, right?"

"yeah, no problem," sam replies, reaching out to scratch bolt behind his ears.

then you turn to dean, who hasn't said a word yet. he's just sitting there, staring at you like he doesn't know what to do with himself. his jaw is tight, and his eyes keep darting between your face and—well, everywhere else. finally, he clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter.

"you look… uh, good. yeah. real good," he says, his voice gruff.

you notice the way he shifts in his seat, his hand briefly brushing over his thigh as if he's trying to adjust something. you don't think much of it, though, just flash him a smile.

"thanks, de. ready to go?"

he nods, standing up a little too quickly. "yeah, let's go."

the ride to the party is quiet at first. you're messing with your phone, checking for texts from your friends, while dean keeps his eyes firmly on the road. but you can feel the tension in the air, the way he keeps shifting in his seat every few minutes.

"you okay over there?" you ask, glancing at him curiously.

"yeah, fine," he says quickly, his voice a little too sharp.

you raise an eyebrow. "you sure? you've been squirming since we left. what’s going on?"

he hesitates, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "just… sore, that's all.”

you tilt your head, confused. "sore? why would you be sore? didn't sam say you skipped working out today?"

he grits his teeth, clearly regretting his excuse. "just drop it, okay?"

you roll your eyes but don't push it. whatever's going on with him, he'll tell you if he wants to. maybe you'll just have to get inside his head yourself. but that's an invasion of privacy and you'd prefer him to tell you, rather than you sticking your nose in his business.

when you finally pull up to your friend's house, the street is already packed with cars, and you can hear the faint thump of music from inside. you spot your friend waiting near the door, waving excitedly when she sees you.

"thanks for the ride, dean," you say, opening the door.

"no problem, sweetheart," he mutters, his voice tight.

you step out of the car, adjusting your tights and tugging the bodysuit into place as you walk toward the house. your friend meets you halfway, pulling you into a hug.

"oh my god, you look so hot!" she gushes, pulling back to look at your outfit.

"so do you!" you reply with a laugh, but before you can say anything else, a guy steps out onto the porch, joining your friend.

he immediately places a hand on your shoulder, leaning in to introduce himself. you're polite, smiling and nodding, but you can feel the older winchester brother's eyes burning into the back of your head from the car.

he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. the guys laughs at something you say, his hand lingering on your arm a little too long for dean's liking.

"sonuva bitch,” dean mutters under his breath, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal as he pulls away from the curb. he doesn't even wait for you to go inside before speeding off, the tires squealing slightly as he turns the corner.

his heart is pounding in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of anger and jealousy. who the hell does the guy think his is, touching you like that? you're his girl. well, not officially, but still. you're his.

he spends the entire drive back to the bunker stewing in his own thoughts, alternating between cursing himself for not saying anything and cursing out the guy for daring to lay a hand on you.

back at the bunker, sam glances up when dean storms inside, slamming the door behind him.

"everything okay?" sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

dean doesn't answer, just heads toward the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge and mutters, "watch the damn bunny."

sam exchanges a confused look with bolt, who twitches his ears in response.

meanwhile, dean sits at the table, staring at the bottle in his hand, already counting down the hours until he can go pick you up—and maybe punch the guy in the face while he’s at it.

[mickmundy]

[nemisuki]

Sunshine

Jealous AU | It wasn't often you spoke to those outside your class. So imagine his shock when he saw you speaking to a random extra in the hallway. A short oneshot of jealous bakugo and an oblivious girl who is unaware of a lot of things… including their romance.

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, minor jealous bkg but not toxic, aged up to third years, dense reader, mutual feelings, bkg pov, implied short reader, oneshot, bkg is mature and a softie, open ending, 1.1k word count

He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't mistaking something. 

His red eyes are practically boring into the student's back – who had the guts to approach you. 

A random extra from another course, a guy he's never seen before. So why the hell are you talking to him? 

As much as he tried, he couldn't look away from the sight. Who knows what they might pull on you. Bakugo can tell by the way the idiot looks at her, that the guy is clearly interested. 

That pissed him off. 

And what pissed him off even more is that she's completely oblivious of it. 

The girl didn't know how beautiful she was. How blinding her smile was when she saw something she liked.

How blinding her smile was when she looked at him.

If only she recognized the significance of her own feelings.

Bakugo could tell she liked him more than a friend should. Yet the dense idiot didn't know how she felt herself. 

He knew she unknowingly developed feelings for him as they started their third year. For someone as perceptive as him, it was easy to notice the clues. 

She clings to him despite his rough demeanor. And easily laughs whenever he grumbles a snarky comment under his breath. Always following him around both in and out of class. 

At first he didn't know what to do. He wasn't one to even think about romance. But her constant proximity threw the blonde off. 

Slowly as time went on, he found himself expecting to see her by his side. Feeling a bit uneasy on those rare days they didn't spend much time together. By the time they were halfway into their last year at UA, that's when he knew. 

He liked her too. As more than a friend. 

For the first time in his life, Katsuki Bakugo yearned for romance. Yet only with her.  

The realization only made him more agitated. Him growing soft for a girl? How ridiculous.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

He was pulled out of his thoughts a few seconds later. The reason?

The sight of the other guy lifting his hand and picking a piece of lint out of her hair. Not a second later, taking the opportunity to ruffle her hair playfully.

That's what had him speed walking over there with purpose, “Oi Y/N!” 

Her head quickly turns around at the familiar sound of his voice, “Ah Bakugo! Good Morning!” she says with a bright smile, completely forgetting about the other presence behind her. 

That response alone, almost made his stoic expression morph into a cocky grin. Almost. 

He grumbles in acknowledgment as he stands by her side, looking back and forth between her and the extra close by. A silent question directed towards Y/N. To which she seems to figure out immediately. 

“Oh this is Kai from the support course. He had some ideas for potential support gadgets I could use to regulate my quirk!” 

Support course huh. 

Bakugo simply stares at the other guy, a calm yet serious expression displayed across his face. He makes no move to greet this supposed ‘kai’ or even initiate small talk. 

A moment of silence passes between the three of them.

Kai smiles awkwardly in Bakugos direction, a visible indication of how uncomfortable he is. “Erm- well I should be heading to class now. See you around Y/N” he says but then quickly leaves as he makes eye contact with Bakugo. 

Meanwhile the blonde's ego skyrocketed from his success of driving the coward away. His shoulders slightly relax from the defensive stance he wasn't even aware he was doing. 

“Huh? What was that about?” she says looking back at Bakugo with a curious expression. Tilting her head to show her confusion. 

“Tch how the hell should I know. Now hurry up. We gotta head to class” he says, turning around and starting to walk in the direction of their classroom. He doesn't need to look back to know she's already shutting her locker.

“Or do you want to be late?” he says, loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ah, I'm going. Wait up!” she says while proceeding to run to catch up. Slowing down when she reaches his side and adjusting her bag that's draped over her shoulder. 

He occasionally glances at her as she starts babbling about random topics. Though he's not really paying attention to her words. He’s eyeing the side of her head, the specific spot where the other extra touched her. 

Bakugo doesn't know how to feel. 

He's confident in her feelings for him. Confident in his own abilities. 

Yet being a boyfriend… is something he can't comprehend. What exactly makes a good partner? Empathy? Kindness? Vulnerability? 

None of those reside with him. 

He ponders for a moment and takes a look at her cheerful expression. Full of bright joy that could rival the sun. 

His feelings only seem to grow more by the second. 

Without much thought he lifts his hand and gently pats her head. She pauses her endless chatter and hums in acknowledgement, “hm?” 

“Your hair is all messed up from before” he grumbles while fixing the random strands of hair by patting them down in place.

They both halt in the middle of the hallway as she lets him finish. Giggling at the soft sensation of his hand. He raises a brow at her sudden outburst. 

“What's so funny, idiot?” he huffs out and pinches her puffy cheek, unable to resist. 

“It tickles! Plus your hand is really warm. Agh- hey!” she whines slightly at his sudden actions. Trying to pry his hands away and retaliate. Only causing his body to tingle at the contact. 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

He likes her. A lot. 

“When are you gonna realize huh” he mumbles to himself. Showing pity and letting go of her face. 

“Huh sorry what was that?” she says smiling while rubbing her sore cheek.

“Nothing nerd. Cmon pick up the pace, you're slow as hell” he rolls his eyes and continues walking to class, not waiting for her yet again. 

“Not my fault I have small legs!” she yells out and jogs after him, already falling behind.

She can't see it but his lips slightly curve up at her words. What an idiot. 

A few minutes before the bell, they make it to their classroom. Bakugo ignores his classmates as usual and makes a beeline to his seat. Sitting down and taking out his notebook. 

He can already hear Y/N chattering away in the background with some of their friends. Yet a few seconds later she's already at his desk to blab on about something else. 

Some of their friends come over as well to join in on the conversation. 

But his eyes never leave her. 

He may not know all the aspects of how to be a good boyfriend but for her, he’ll try. When the time is right. 

For now he could only wait for Y/N to figure out her own feelings. Which frankly might take awhile.

But Bakugo isn't worried. 

Because he knows she'll follow him anywhere. 

And so would he. 

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| idk why this specific fic got so popular?! it's my most viewed work but I prefer my other ones ermmm hi bakugo fans... check out my longer fics? if u want? um i love u all byeeee! plus ultra!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii!! I love your writing for the batboys!

So my request is Jason and Dick with a s/o and their like cuddling exchanging kisses relaxing and one of their brothers get them for a mission and see their brother (Jason/Dick) with their s/o for the first time. (Maybe the other batboy didn't know Jason/Dick had a girlfriend)

Okieee! Have a great day!

Dick

Cuddled himself into your side, burying his head into your neck, on the verge of falling asleep but not quite there yet as he hummed whenever you ran your fingers through his hair.

‘You like it when I run my fingers through your hair, you might as well be purring.’ You told him while giggling as he tightened his grip on your waist when he felt you shift slightly beneath him. ‘You’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Dick said sluggishly as he pushed his head further into your hand, impatient as he waited for you to continue running your fingers through his hair whenever you stopped briefly.

‘I would but you already act more than enough like a puppy regardless. I guess what they say about dogs and owners looking alike is more true in your case but instead of looks it’s personality.’ You said as you gently tugged his hair, causing him to groan as he then retaliated by deliberately kissing under your jaw and down your neck slowly as he could.

‘You think you’re funny don’t you?’ Dick asks against your neck.

‘I think I’m hilarious when you’re concerned dickbird.’ You gasped when you felt him nibble on your skin, ‘but you love me for it really.’ You added as he raised his head to look at you with a cute little pout across his tired face. You hated how exhausted he looked and so you had decided earlier that day that he was scheduled for some much needed rest, even going so far as to drag him to bed when he was too stubborn to leave a case for a measly five minutes just to eat food.

‘I do, love you I mean.’ Dick said softly as he raised his head to kiss your lips as you hummed happily against him, just as the door to his room swung open.

‘Alright dickhead, time to-‘ Jason looked up to see that he had clearly instructed something and instead of leaving he decided to stand in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

‘I didn’t know you had company in here.’ Jason then said.

‘What do you think I normally do?’ Dick asked his younger brother as he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Piss us about usually.’ Jason replied almost casually that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sibling spat. ‘Now I’m sorry to cut your lovers embrace short but we need to go, preferably now because I don’t know how much longer Tim and Damian can remain together in awkward silence.’ Dick sighed and kissed your cheek as he begun to pull himself away from you begrudgingly.

‘Sorry peanut, I promise you I’ll cuddle you as soon as I get home.’ Dick said when he saw you pout, hand tugging at his shirt which only made him want to say fuck it and stay in your arms, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jason alone to deal with Damian and Tim the entire night without them unironically pissing the other off somehow. ‘For now I’ve got some siblings to keep away from killing each other, so keep the bed warm for me yeah?.’ He adds as he cups your face and kisses you on the lips, nose and forehead.

‘It’ll be cosy and warm when you come home, that and probably smelling of dog too.’ You said as you kissed the space between his brows, cussing dick to smile and relax beneath your lips, he didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t but he knew that when he did come back it’ll be all the more worth while.

‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart.’ Dick replied, completely ignoring Jason who was wondering how the fuck you managed to deal with his brother for as long as you have.

Jason had you cosied up to his side as he continued to read a book he has been meaning to catch up on for a long while but couldn’t in due to the random spikes in crime as of late.

Which unfortunately meant that quality time between yourself and Jason was short lived. So when you were finally able to have Jason by your side for longer then an a few brief moments, you were bound to leap at the opportunity to cling onto him and smother him in kisses, much like you were doing now across his jawline and down his neck.

‘Miss me that much chipmunk?’ Jason asked with a smile as he paused his reading to rear his head back, allowing you further access to his neck, smiling to himself as he felt your lips caress his skin pleasantly. Jason was very much in need for affection after going without it for far longer then he might’ve liked, especially when most days it seemed as though your affection was all that helped Jason in getting through the day; and being deprived of such was a different kind of torture for Jason when he had finally gotten accustomed to it since the start of your relationship.

‘I did,’ you admitted, kissing his pulse on his neck before pulling away to smile up at him, ‘but with how tightly your holding my waist, I’d say you’ve missed me just as much jaybird.’ You added cheekily as you gestured down to the hand that was gripping your waist almost protectively with a playful glint in your eyes.

Jason scoffed as he then tugged you closer to him, making sure to rest his forehead against your own as he spoke, ‘I did miss you chipmunk, I’m not ashamed to admit it because most days it seemed as though you were the only thing keeping me going most of the time.’ He smiles sweetly at you as he kissed your forehead, you closed your eyes and leant into his touch happily, finding bliss at long last.

Only for the door to Jason’s room to burst open. ‘Jason! Are you ready yet Damian’s- oh.’ Dick stoped mid sentence when he noticed you cuddling up to his brother’s side.

You and Jason looked at Dick, who seemed frozen on the spot with his sudden stillness and unblinking eyes, before looking at each other.

‘Is he…okay?’ You whispered to Jason, concerned.

‘He’s fine. Dick’s just being…well a dick.’ Jason replied as he picked up a pillow and threw it in Dick’s direction, ‘Paging dr dickhead.’ He adds as the pillow hit dick square in the face as you slapped Jason on the bicep. ‘Be nice to your friend? Brother? I don’t know-‘

‘I didn’t know you had a significant other Jason!’ Dick exclaimed, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place as he smiled widely at you both.

‘And there’s a good reason for that.’ Jason growled as his hand on your waist tightened.

‘So they’re the reason you didn’t want to come out on patrol tonight?’ Dick continued as he made himself comfortable on the edge of Jason’s bed. ‘Who knew my little bro Jay jay was in love.’ He teased and he tried to pinch Jason’s cheeks, only for Jason to smack it away with a grunt, dick shrugs as he played on his stomach and kicked his legs. ‘So tell me how you met, leave no detail out of it.’

Needless to say dick has to be dragged out of the room by the scruff of his neck by an agitated Jason as he dropped him off with Damian, who was sharping his sword, and said ‘he’s your problem now.’ And went back to his room to you to cuddle.

[luveline]

would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3

ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k

cw suggestive content

“Is that okay?” he whispers. 

You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 

Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 

He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 

Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 

He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 

“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 

“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 

You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 

You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 

There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 

“I really am sorry, Pete.” 

His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 

“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 

“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”

“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 

“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 

“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 

“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 

“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 

You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 

“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 

“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 

“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 

“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 

“From that statue on ESU?” 

“What? How would I do that?” 

“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 

You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 

“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 

You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 

Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 

“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  

[rafecameronssl4t]

i miss thornton!reader so bad!!! can we get one, maybe reader got hurt by barry and topper fights rafe about it! love uuuuu

Protective || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I've missed writing Thornton!reader :(

Warnings: suggestive, slight angst if you even call it that lol, other than that nothing rlly

Word count: 3,417 (longest fic i've written so far lol)

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The music thrummed through the house, filling every corner with a heavy bass as Kelce glanced around the crowded room, his brows furrowed. He leaned closer to Topper, who was lounging on the couch with a half-empty beer in hand. “Yo, where’s Rafe? Haven’t seen him all night,” Kelce shouted over the noise.

Topper, barely looking up from his drink, shrugged lazily. “Probably off somewhere with my sister,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. Just as he said it, the sight of you and Rafe caught Kelce's attention, and Topper turned his head. Rafe appeared at the top of the staircase, hand firmly gripping yours as the two of you descended.

His expression was smug, almost victorious, while you walked carefully beside him, your legs unsteady, a faint flush still lingering on your cheeks. The subtle tension between you didn’t go unnoticed. Topper narrowed his eyes, rolling them dramatically. “Where were you guys?” he started, though a moment later he held up a hand, groaning.

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t even wanna know,” Topper groaned, his eyes narrowing as he sank deeper into the couch, clearly regretting the question. Rafe’s smirk only widened in response, that signature arrogance playing on his lips as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of your back.

“What’s wrong? Not havin’ fun?” Rafe’s tone was taunting as he sat down, effortlessly pulling you into his lap. You settled against him, your body fitting into his like second nature, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the alcohol in the air. Topper’s response was a dry scoff, his eyes cutting away, tired of the banter.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He took another sip of his drink, clearly unimpressed with the scene unfolding in front of him. You glanced at your brother, trying to lighten the tension. “Where’s that girl you were seeing? Natalie or something—” you began, but Topper’s cold voice sliced through your words, shutting them down.

“Broke it off with her. She was a bitch anyway,” he said, his tone harsh, dismissive, like the whole thing had been a waste of his time. There was a chill to his words that left an awkward silence between you, broken only by the sound of the party continuing in the background. You exchanged a quick glance with Rafe, who simply shrugged, his expression unbothered, like the drama swirling around him barely registered.

Rafe’s fingers, however, were far more interested in the hem of your dress, teasing the fabric between his fingers as he leaned in closer. “I’m having a smoke. You comin’?” His voice dropped lower, intimate, a subtle invitation. You glanced towards the patio door, the thought of stepping into the cold night air making you hesitate. “But it’s so cold out there,” you pouted, your lips curving into a playful smile.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes dropping to your legs as he gave your thigh a teasing pat. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea wearin’ this dress,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he traced lazy circles on your skin with his thumb. “Oh, it was a bad idea, huh?” you quipped back, tilting your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his gaze.

You could feel the electricity between you, the unspoken tension that always lingered just beneath the surface. Before Rafe could respond, Topper groaned again, loudly this time, clearly done with the back-and-forth. “Get outta here, seriously. The two of you are disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he was going to walk out. You held up your hands in mock surrender, laughing softly.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” you teased, sliding off Rafe’s lap. Rafe stood, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer as the two of you made your way outside. The night air hit you immediately, crisp and cold, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, pulling you against him as if he could keep you warm just by being close.

~

Rafe leaned back against the side of the house, the dim glow of the porch light casting shadows across his sharp features. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the faint trail of smoke curling lazily into the cool night air as he gazed down at you. He wasn’t really paying attention to the words spilling from your mouth, your voice a pleasant hum in the background, but his eyes were locked on you—specifically, the way your glossy lips moved as you talked.

You were leaning casually against the wall, your phone in hand, gesturing slightly as you yapped about the latest gossip swirling around Figure 8. Your voice was animated, every detail about who hooked up with whom and who got into another petty fight filling the air with energy.

Rafe, however, was only half-listening, his attention drawn more to the subtle curve of your lips, how they glistened under the soft light each time you spoke. The way your mouth moved was more captivating than any story you could tell. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the embers lighting up briefly as his gaze drifted lower, trailing from your lips down to your neckline, his mind wandering.

You didn’t seem to notice his distracted state, too engrossed in the details of your latest story. But to Rafe, it didn’t matter what you were saying. He was content just watching you, the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space between you both.

You continued talking, the glow of your phone illuminating your face as you swiped through the latest drama on social media. “So apparently, Anna broke up with Drew,” you said, your voice filled with excitement as if it was the most riveting thing that had happened all week. “And get this—she’s already seeing Chase. Like, they were spotted together at The Wreck, can you believe it?”

Rafe exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his eyes lazily following the movement of your lips, still half lost in his own thoughts. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled in response, barely processing the names you were tossing out. His mind kept drifting—your lips, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the cool night air.

You didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as you scrolled through your phone, continuing. “And then there’s Claire—God, she’s still with that guy from The Cut. You know everyone’s talking about it, right? Like, what is she even thinking? She could do so much better, but nope, she’s still with him.”

Rafe took another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side before responding, his tone casual and almost uninterested. “Yeah, she’s an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze still fixated on your lips, completely disconnected from the gossip itself. You sighed, exasperated by how uninterested he seemed. “Are you even listening, Rafe?” you asked, shooting him a playful glare, though you knew this was how he always acted when you talked about Figure 8 drama.

He smirked, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips as he finally met your eyes. “I’m listenin’,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I just don’t care about half the people you’re talkin’ about.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in just a little closer. “You should care. It’s your crowd, Rafe. You act like you’re too cool for it, but you know you love it when someone else’s life is falling apart.”

Rafe chuckled, his hand firmly tugging you closer by the waist. “Nah, I just like watchin’ you get all worked up about it,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips as he tossed his cigarette aside, his focus now entirely on you. You sighed, tucking your phone into your back pocket, arms crossing over your chest as a shiver ran down your spine.

“Can you hurry up? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” you groaned, leaning into Rafe for warmth. The night air was biting, and the flimsy dress you’d chosen was doing nothing to help. Rafe smirked, wrapping an arm casually around your neck and pulling you against him.

“Quit whining. I already warmed you up earlier,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they glanced down at you. His hand rested possessively on your hip, the cockiness in his tone making you roll your eyes. You were about to fire back a snarky remark when a voice cut through the darkness. "Rafe!" someone called out, the tone sharp and angry.

Before you could turn to see who it was, you suddenly felt a rough pair of hands grab your shoulders and shove you aside with force. The world seemed to tilt for a moment as you let out a startled shriek, your body stumbling as you lost your balance, crashing into a bush. The cold leaves scratched against your skin, the shock of the shove still fresh as you blinked, trying to regain your composure.

“What the fuck, Barry?!” Rafe’s voice exploded with fury as he shoved the man back, his stance immediately tense, ready to throw a punch. But before he could escalate, he turned back to you, eyes wide with concern. He was by your side in an instant, one hand gripping your arm, steadying you as you struggled to get up.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice softening, all the teasing from before gone, replaced by genuine worry. His hands moved to gently brush the dirt and leaves off you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of injury. You took a deep breath, still a little shaken, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice quieter now.

But your eyes were narrowed, darting to Barry, who stood a few feet away, his face twisted in a malicious grin, his energy dark and threatening. “Oh, my bad, Princess,” Barry sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glared at you. “Just here to let your boy know he’s gotta pay up. Real fuckin’ soon.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Rafe instinctively moved you behind him, his body blocking yours in a protective stance. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Pay up? What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe snapped, his voice rising with frustration. “I already gave you the money—what more do you want?”

Barry chuckled darkly, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “Yeah, you gave me some of it,” he growled, his tone low and threatening. “But we both know that wasn’t the full amount, Cameron. I don’t like bein’ shortchanged.” Rafe’s posture stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as he squared up to Barry, tension rippling through his body. “You got what I owed you,” Rafe hissed, his voice laced with fury.

“I’m not giving you a goddamn cent more.” Barry took another step forward, his gaze shifting from Rafe to you, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better be careful, Rafe,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “You wouldn’t want Princess here to get caught in the middle of your little debt, would you?”

Rafe’s entire body went rigid, the implication in Barry’s words sending a jolt of rage through him. He stepped closer to Barry, his voice low and dangerous. “You keep her out of this,” Rafe growled, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.” You stood behind Rafe, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

You could see the barely contained fury in Rafe’s stance, the way he was holding himself back from lunging at Barry right then and there. Barry gave a mocking shrug, stepping back with a grin still plastered on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said casually, turning on his heel as if the conversation was over. “But I’ll be back, Rafe. You know where to find me. Don’t make me wait.”

He shot one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the cold, the air heavy with unsaid threats. Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, his expression softening only slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice still tight with lingering anger.

You nodded, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. “What the hell was that about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice a mix of concern and frustration. He sighed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s nothin’ you need to worry about,” he muttered, though the look in his eyes told you it was anything but nothing.

"Why the fuck was a drug dealer walking through my house?" Topper’s angry voice sliced through the tension, making both you and Rafe turn toward him. His face was red, brows knitted together in fury as he stormed up to the two of you. The pulse of the party inside was distant, but the rage in Topper’s voice filled the silence outside.

His eyes landed on you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the dirt on your dress, and the lingering shock in your expression. “The fuck happened to you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp and piercing, searching your face for answers. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the remnants of the altercation with Barry.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, brushing a hand over your arm as if to wipe away the discomfort. “Bullshit,” Topper snapped, cutting you off before you could even try to explain. His anger shifted, his eyes narrowing as they darted to Rafe, who was still standing protectively in front of you. “I told you to take care of my sister,” Topper growled, his voice low but filled with fury.

“I don’t want her around a fucking drug dealer, Rafe!” Rafe straightened up, his expression hardening. “Topper, calm the fuck down,” he shot back, his voice steady but laced with annoyance. “It wasn’t like that.” “Oh really?” Topper scoffed, taking a step closer. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it was like that. What the fuck is Barry doing here, and why is my sister gettin’ shoved into a goddamn bush?!”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “Barry’s deal is with me. I’m handling it,” he muttered, but the tightness in his voice betrayed the weight of the situation. “I didn’t know he’d pull shit like that.” “That’s not good enough, Rafe,” Topper spat, his voice rising. “She’s not some collateral damage in whatever fucked-up deal you have goin’ on.” You stood between them, feeling the heat of the argument escalating, the tension rolling off both of them in waves.

“Topper, seriously, I’m fine,” you tried to interject, though your voice was drowned out by the two of them squaring up. Rafe shot a glare at Topper, his patience thinning. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” Topper barked out a laugh, disbelief in his voice. “Under control? My little sister gets shoved around, and that’s you havin’ things under control?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his temper flaring. “Watch it, Top,” he warned, his voice dark. “Barry’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him. You don’t need to worry about her.” But Topper wasn’t backing down, his protective instincts kicking in as his eyes darted between you and Rafe. “You better,” Topper seethed, his voice dangerously low.

“’Cause if this happens again, I won’t just be worried—I’ll make sure this thing between you and her is done. I don’t care what you two have going on, Rafe. If she gets hurt because of your shit, I’ll end it myself. She deserves better than to be dragged into whatever mess you’re caught up in.” Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your face. “You don’t mean that—” you began, your voice trembling as you searched Topper’s eyes for any sign that he might back down.

But the fierce determination in his gaze made it clear he was dead serious. “Oh yes, I fucking do,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, unwavering in its conviction. “And I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating, charged with unspoken tension.

A chill raced down your spine, and your heart pounded violently in your chest at the thought of your parents getting involved. They had always been skeptical about your relationship with Rafe, questioning his intentions and whether he was truly good for you. You could almost hear their voices in your head, echoing their concerns “He’s trouble,” and “You deserve someone better.” The idea of them finding out about the chaos swirling around you made your stomach churn.

“Topper, wait—” you tried to interject, stepping forward to bridge the widening gap between them. “You can’t just threaten Rafe like that. It’s not fair—” “Fair?” Topper shot back, cutting you off with a glare. “What’s not fair is that my sister is getting mixed up with someone who can’t keep her safe. This isn’t just about you two playing house; this is serious!”

Rafe stepped in, his voice steady but edged with irritation. “I get it, Topper. You’re trying to protect her, but you’re not seeing the whole picture. I care about her. You think I want any of this to happen?” “Then act like it!” Topper snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re letting this shit happen right under your nose. If you truly cared, you’d make damn sure it never came to this.”

The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, a taut string ready to snap. You glanced at Rafe, searching for reassurance, but his jaw was clenched tight, frustration and anger warring in his expression. “Topper, please,” you pleaded, your voice softer now, desperate to diffuse the situation. “You know how much Rafe means to me. He’s not like that—”

“Not like what?” Topper interrupted, his voice rising again. “Not like a drug dealer? Not like someone who can’t keep his life together? You’re smarter than this, and I refuse to watch you throw yourself into the fire just because you think you can handle it.” Your heart sank as you realized that his anger was coming from a place of love, a protective instinct that had always been there.

But it still hurt to see him turning on Rafe, the person you cared about deeply. Rafe’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. “Topper, if you really want to protect her, then trust me to do the same,” he said, his voice calmer, but the fire still simmered beneath the surface. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with guys like Barry,” Topper shot back, his voice taut. “You need to figure this out, Rafe. Because if you can’t, I’ll step in, and I won’t hesitate to make it clear to everyone—including Mom and Dad—that you’re not the right guy for her.” Rafe's lips part slightly as he glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes.

“And you both know that the only reason this even works is because I’m allowing it. Mom and Dad are already skeptical enough about this whole thing. If anything goes wrong, you know it’ll be on me to explain why I let it happen” Topper says, his voice laced with frustration as he narrows his eyes at both of you.

He glances at you one last time, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment, before he turns and walks away, leaving the tension hanging in the air. As soon as he’s out of sight, the tears spill down your cheeks, warm and stinging. “Rafe…” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, but Rafe doesn’t respond with words.

Instead, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly, enveloping you in his warmth as you quietly sob against his chest. “Shh, it’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it, okay?” he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle balm against your hurt. His hand caresses your hair, fingers weaving through the strands in a soothing rhythm as you cling to him, seeking comfort in his presence.

[wandaslittlebird]

It Felt Like Coming Home

WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After being strong for so long, the veil starts to slip.

CW: Dissociation, Crying, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Gang, I don't know how long this slow burn is gonna last. I might have to adjust to a medium paced burn, cause I apparently don't know how to write a blossoming relationship in a compelling way. For that reason, this one is kinda short.

Chapter 3 of A Room of Your Own

———————————————————

The next morning you found yourself awake earlier than usual. Again. You had a habit of not sleeping well when adjusting to new environments. So you once again made your way to the kitchen before sunrise, where you once again found Wanda leaned up against the counter in the same silk robe from yesterday.

She smiled over her coffee mug when she saw you. “Good morning! Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

You nodded, taking a seat on a stool at the island. 

“Same as yesterday? With my creamer?” 

“Yes please,” you yawned. 

She slid the mug across the island and leaned forward against the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”

You took a sip of coffee and nodded. You hadn’t really slept okay, but you didn’t have any desire to share that with Wanda. She was clearly trying very hard to make you comfortable. She wasn’t buying it. There was clearly something under the surface that didn’t escape her notice. She let the silence sit for a long moment, hoping you would say something. There was a warm glimmer in her green eyes urging you to speak up. You looked down into your mug, idly tapping the mug with your pointer finger. 

Realizing you were going to need more prompting, Wanda spoke again. “How are you feeling? About everything.”

You shrugged, not looking back up at her. You felt surprisingly fine, aside from not sleeping much. But there was another feeling too. One you couldn’t quite describe. It felt like you were stuck in a perpetual hypnopompic state, trapped in the liminal space between being asleep and awake. You were probably just tired. “I’m alright. Just tired, I think. I always have a bit of trouble sleeping in new places.”

Wanda nodded, not entirely satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to press you any further. 

You both turned your head as a very tired looking Natasha came through the doorway. Even with bedhead and tired eyes, she was beautiful. And the smile that spread across Wanda's face as her wife approached was breathtaking. They were picturesque: a type of beauty you could see even through your grief. You had a good feeling about them. Naive as it may be, you were compelled to trust them.

“Morning Y/N,” she yawned, wrapping her arm around Wanda’s waist. “I trust Wanda is taking care of you?” 

You nodded and smiled at them both. “She is.”

“Mmm, she always does,” she hummed, kissing her wife’s cheek. Natasha poured herself a cup of coffee, setting up next to you on the island. She slid you a pen and a pad of paper. “Wands and I are gonna go to the store in a bit. If you’re up for it, you can write down a list of the things you want. Favorite foods, snacks, school supplies, whatever you want.”

You cautiously took the pen. “Oh you all don’t have to go shopping for me or anything just because I’m staying here.”

Natasha leaned against the island, bracing her elbows against the marble. “What if I want to?” She asked in a low, almost testing tone before straightening back up. “It’s really no problem. We’re going to the store anyway. No reason to have you make a separate trip.”

You smiled. You really did hate the grocery store, so you weren’t going to argue. “Careful,” you said lightheartedly. “I might get used to you spoiling me. Then you’ll really have to kick me out.”

Wanda chuckled. She loved seeing this witty, playful side of you peak out beneath your shy, meek exterior. Natasha seemed to bring it out of you. Natasha seemed to bring it out of a lot of people. You couldn’t see the mischievous smirk that spread across her face. “Oh don’t worry. By the time Nat and I let you go you’ll be so high maintenance you won’t settle for anything less. I think you’re due for a good spoiling.” 

A faint blush rose to your cheeks as you finished your list and slid it back to Natasha. “Five items. Woah. I tell you what Wanda, this kid really pushes the limits,” Natasha teased, setting the pen and paper back down in front of you. “Make it ten and I’ll promise to reign in Wanda when it comes to spoiling.” She gives you a wink as you quickly scribble down a few more things. 

************

After a quick trip upstairs to get dressed and ready, they both headed off to the store, leaving you alone to explore the house. The house wasn’t necessarily a “mansion”, per se, but it was certainly bigger than any house you’d ever lived in. Every room had its own special charm. You carefully perused all the repurposed bedrooms and storage spaces you came across, thoroughly exploring all of your surroundings.

Your favorite room, though, was Wanda’s office. It appeared to be a repurposed bedroom on the top floor with a massive window lining the wall and a huge L-shaped desk. It was cluttered, but in a way that made it look more lived-in than messy. Best of all, there was a small indentation in the wall where you guessed there used to be a closet that Wanda had fashioned into a reading nook. The nook sat, pristine and unused, but you could see yourself curling up there for hours. Maybe Wanda would let you sit here and read while she worked. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t even hear the front door click open as Wanda and Natasha returned from the store. 

“Y/N? We’re back!” You heard Natasha call from the foyer. You quickly left the office, closing the door as if you were scared they would catch you. You weren’t sure why the idea made you so nervous. They made it clear you were free to explore. You just naturally felt like an intruder, despite being a welcome guest.

“And we have a surprise for you!” Wanda sang as you came down the steps. 

She sat down a number of paper bags before pulling a mossy green blanket from one of them and handing you the silky soft material. You smiled and took it from her, rubbing the soft material against your cheek. 

“I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I noticed yesterday how much you love soft material and I thought you might like a new blanket for your new bed,” she explained, swaying nervously on her feet. She was worried you weren’t going to like it. 

You hummed contently, unwrapping the blanket and throwing it over your shoulders. It was so incredibly soft and it was big enough to cover your whole bed. Much more suitable than the throw blankets you’d brought with you. “Thank you so much. It’s so nice and soft.”

“And we got some popcorn and ice cream because we were thinking about having a little movie night,” Natasha added. “What do you think? We could gather up all the softest blankets and build you a little nest.”

You stood still, shocked by the suggestion. You thought in staying with them, you’d just be a roommate, coming and going with a few scattered interactions. But this wasn’t just a passing interaction like morning coffee was. They were proposing that you spend the evening together. They wanted to hang out with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Wanda blurted out after a long moment of silence. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. If it’s more beneficial to just take some time to yourself, hang out in your room, that’s absolutely fine. It’s just a suggestion. If you wanted company.” 

“A movie sounds nice,” you said quietly, pulling the blanket tight over your shoulders. 

Wanda visibly relaxed and smiled softly. “Then I’ll put these groceries away while you two find some blankets.”

“I found one!” Natasha shouted playfully, picking up your blanket wrapped form and carrying you to the corner of the couch where she gently set you down. “You stay here and get comfortable. I’ll go round up some more soft things.”

Both women returned a few minutes later, Wanda with a big bowl of buttery popcorn, and Natasha with a random amalgamation of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals that she promptly dropped directly on top of you, burying you in the heap. 

“Natalia Alinovna Romanoff!” Wanda shouted disapprovingly, setting down the popcorn bowl and rushing to dig you out. You emerged with a giddy, content smile, snuggled up with a fuzzy body pillow. “She could’ve suffocated.”

Natasha jokingly rolled her eyes, which earned her a playful slap on the bicep from Wanda. She couldn’t possibly stay mad at Natasha after watching you happily wiggle under the comforting weight of the soft blankets. You twisted and flopped around like a puppy walking in circles and scratching its pillow so it could lay in its bed just right. The women smiled and giggled affectionately. 

After a few minutes, you finally settled, surrounded in a nest of blankets. 

“Do you have something in particular you’d like to watch?” Wanda asked, grabbing the remote and settling in next to Natasha on one end of the large couch. 

You shrugged but they couldn’t see it under all the blankets. “I don’t know. Maybe Robin Hood or The Aristocats. Something lighthearted and old.”

Wanda clicked the remote, waving her arm in different directions to try to get the TV to respond. After a moment, Natasha took the remote and easily found an old movie on Disney +. Wanda sneered and scrunched up her face. Natasha kissed her nose. 

The movie played in the background, but you spent more time paying attention to the women curled up on the end of the couch. They weren’t “cuddling”, per se, but their bodies weren’t pressed tightly together with their legs nearly intertwined. They both looked so at peace with each other. You yearned for that feeling. 

“You wanna join us?” Natasha asked almost playfully when she caught you staring. 

Wanda, who was closer to you, opened her arm and beckoned you over. 

You paused for a moment before emerging from your blanket nest, crawling up and laying hesitantly beside her. You rested your head in the crook of her arm, but kept your hands curled up against your own chest. 

“Well hang on now, I want some cuddles too. Get over here,” Natasha said with a mischievous smile before pulling you in between them. You giggled as you were gently pulled over Wanda plopped into a small spot on the couch in between them. You nearly head butted Natasha in the process. Wanda pulled your new blanket from the heap and tucked it around the three of you. Natasha wrapped her arm around you and smiled. “Much better.”

You settled into Natasha's chest with your back pressed up against Wanda while she ran her hand gently up and down your spine. You sighed, content in their cocoon of warmth. You felt so supported and loved, affectionately squished between the two women. 

“Are you alright, honey? You're shaking,” Natasha asked, looking down at you with a hint of concern. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You weren’t shaking. But as you started to pay more attention to your body, you noticed she was right. There was a small, almost imperceivable tremble in your muscles. Almost imperceivable unless you happen to be laying on top of someone, of course. 

“And your muscles are so tight. Like you're constricting your entire body,” Wanda added, sitting up to look at your face. “If this is making you uncomfortable we don’t have to…”

“No,” you interrupted. “No it’s not that. It’s just…” You were suddenly aware of your body in a way you hadn’t been in quite some time. It felt like returning to a home you didn’t remember leaving. It was like when you’re going somewhere and you get to your destination, and you can’t remember the drive. You were just… home.

Before you even recognized it, the shield you had unintentionally built started to crumble. Tears fell from your eyes, wetting Natasha’s shirt. “Oh poor baby, you must be exhausted, living with your body so… activated all the time,” Wanda cooed sympathetically.

Neither of them were surprised. In fact, both women acted as if they had anticipated this. Natasha pulled you closer, cradling your head under her chin and gently rocking you. “It’s okay. You're safe now, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’re gonna protect you.”

Their words only made you cry harder, but in a freeing, cathartic way. Wanda rubbed the back of your head gently, leaning over to say “Let it out. We’ve got you, angel. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Their words seeped into your bones, giving you permission to crumble as you sobbed into Natasha’s chest. They both continue to soothe you, rubbing your back and stroking your hair. Neither of them chided or rushed you, giving you time to adjust. Wanda brought you some water. Natasha helped you sit up as she pressed the cool glass to your lips. 

As your sobs faded to sniffles and your eyes started to droop, Natasha whispered “It’s alright. You can fall asleep here. We’ll get you to bed.” You drifted off, finally relaxed and at peace.

[docdudo]

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader (Part 4)

"What?" You asked, your voice quiet and laced with a hint of snark, just as annoyed as you were cautious of them.

There you were, pressed against the big, red armchair they had placed you in, staring back at the four familiars with a mix of annoyance and fear, eyes never leaving their intimidating figures.

Yes, they were your familiars now, but... it's a big adjustment to get used to so quickly.

You were still cautious, that's to be expected...

"We're going to have a talk." Price says simply, though his serious expression just makes you sink deeper into the armchair. "It's a bit overdue, but we wanted to ensure the bond had settled nicely before addressing any of this."

His comment makes you glance down at yourself, glaring at the gold bands still snugly wrapped around your arms and legs.

"First of all, let's start by the most important part. We can see you're not a part of any Coven. Where did you use to live, doll?"

You huff slightly at his question, since you were pretty sure Kyle and Johnny already told him about your little conversation outside.

And, by the way, why is this jerk speaking in the past?? 'Used to live'??

"I live with my grandpa at the edge of this forest..." You answer quietly, still clearly annoyed, but toning it down to avoid being rude to these ancient beings.

Your comment made Johnny scowl once again, huffing in annoyance as he crossed his arms quietly in the corner of the couch. Kyle still wore a pensive expression, tilting his head slightly as he listened to your words once again. Simon merely cocked an eyebrow, maintaining his relaxed posture as he leaned against the nearest wall. And Price, he simply nodded slowly, a slight frown forming on his face.

"Right..., your grandfather, you say?" John repeats slowly, watching you nod with conviction.

"Witches dinae have 'grandfathers'." Soap grumbled, still pretty much annoyed with your insistance.

"Watch it, Soap." Gaz sneered, slapping the back of his head.

"Ah won't! How do ye want me calm when all I can hear is that a human man kidnapped a baby witch??" The snarl he let out with his words made you flinch back in the armchair, looking between the two of them with hesitant and scared eyes. "A fuckin' man, Gaz! Are ye not worried??"

"The two of you, out."

Silence fell over the room as Soap and Gaz turned to fix Price with piercing stares, their expressions etched with angry defiance, making it painfully clear they had no intention of leaving.

"Do I need to repeat myself, lads?" He snarled, turning to stare back at them with a face you wish you never see directed at you.

"We're leaving." Gaz huffs in controlled anger, getting up from the couch and grabbing Soap so he can pull him by force out of the room.

Soap resisted a little, just a little, but as soon as he saw your scared expression, body pressed firmly against the armchair, he relutantly matched steps with Kyle, leaving the room.

Ghost seized the opportunity, pushing off the wall and walking to the couch to sit beside Price, where the other two were sitting moments ago. He was bigger than the others too, such a large man that was impossible not to be overwhelmed by his presence. Then again, the one they call their captain, Price, is just as bad when it came to intimidation.

"Sorry about them, doll," John drawled in his gruff voice, though it still carried a gentle undertone. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, bringing himself almost to your eye level. "Those animals don't know how to behave in front of a kid. But don't blame them too much, first time actually interacting with a witchling."

"Talk a bit more about your gran'father, won’t ya?" Ghost rumbles gruffly, his voice so much like Price’s that it catches you slightly off guard for a few moments, just blinking slowly in his direction.

Now that you were alone with these two, the atmosphere felt completely different compared to being alone with Soap and Gaz. Sure, they were all powerful and intimidating, but these two were in a league of their own—much scarier, more imposing. Maybe it was the way Price spoke with unshakable authority, or the way Ghost sat manspreading on the couch, leaning back as if he couldn’t care less, his face almost entirely masked except for his piercing eyes.

It was intimidating, and it made you freeze up in fear of saying something wrong. You weren't sure why they had taken such interest in your grandfather, or why Soap keep insisting 'Witches can't have one', but you knew something was wrong here (which isn't impossible considering that you knew basically nothing about real witches).

"He's... he's just... it's just my grandfather..." You mumble quietly, keeping your eyes on your own lap, away from their intense expressions.

"I understand tha', but could you talk a bit more about 'im?" Ghost says simply, slowly, leaning forward on the couch similar to Price's position. "Human, innit?"

"A-Ah, yes.... he's... he's nice, mhm... short too, but that's because he's already old..." You were still speaking quietly, but you felt a bit more confident talking about your grandfather, eyes slowly going up. "He's... 79 this year, but he doesn't like celebrating his birthday... says it makes him feel old...... ah, he always lived around here, never liked living too close to people. Likes nature and all that..." You shrugh a little, not really knowing what they wanted to hear.

You're pretty sure your grandpa is a very simple old man; There's no reason for them to be so cautious. Even if that guy was some kind of criminal in his younger years, he's surely no threat at all now a days, not when he's already this old and thin.

You feel the need to voice your confusion, this is going too far.

"He's... very normal, I don't understand what's... the problem here..." You mumble, frowning a little as you finally gather enough courage to stare back at them.

"How much do you know about witches, darlin'?" Prices asks back, still pretty much patient and calm.

That's good. Except that he's still not actually answering your damn question-!

"Dunno, not a lot." You grumble back, shruging once again. "What does that has to do with my grandpa? He's human."

"You see, witchling… witches don’t usually live with humans," Ghost says softly, as if trying not to offend you.

You continue to stare at him with an impassive expression. You’d already deduced as much, but you still didn’t see the problem here.

Price lets out a small chuckle at your confusion, shaking his head slightly.

"What we're trying to say, kid, is that it's pretty rare to find a witch not living in a Coven. It's dangerous for witchlings to be alone. And… the only male interaction a witchling should have is with other witches' familiars."

The way he speaks is surprisingly soft, but it’s clear he’s trying to clue you in on the fact that your situation is highly unusual. In truth, he also seemed a bit unsettled by the idea of a witchling like you living with a man. They were all uncomfortable with it, actually—trying their best to remain at least somewhat civilized, resisting the urge to immediately lock you away in their arms and ensure no one ever got close to you again.

"Ah… so all witches are women?" You had sort of deduced that a while ago from things your grandfather had said, but it was good to finally have confirmation.

Their reactions, however, told you that maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Ghost, his face mostly hidden beneath a skull balaclava, immediately widened his eyes in surprise, his body going rigid on the couch. And Price, who had been wearing a faint smile, dropped it instantly, his expression turning more intense than ever.

They spent a few moments in complete silence, simply staring at you, before Price finally spoke again, his voice cautious.

"…Yes, witches are all female." He then closes his eyes, seemingly gathering strength and patience—or something like that. "I guess that's to be expected... you're clearly new to this."

"And all familiars are male." Ghost adds, now calmer, his eyes serene and his posture more relaxed.

You blink slowly at that, nodding a bit. That's new information for you, so does that mean...?

"So... witches have babies with familiars?" You ask innocently, tilting your head slightly to the side.

And once again, their entire demeanor shifts as they freeze, shocked expressions plastered across their faces (or, the most shocked their mostly expresionless faces went).

"YA GOT TO BE FACKIN' KIDDIN' MAH!" Soap yelled from somewhere deeper in the house, causing you to sit up straighter in alarm—though the quick sound of Kyle shutting him up with a slap quickly followed.

Was that a stupid question to ask?? What's with these reactions??

"No, no, witches do not have kids with familiars." Price quickly interjected with a firm voice, his brow furrowed in a mix of concern and disgust.

"Price, it's a baby witch…" Ghost reasons, still a bit rattled but mostly unbothered by now. "She doesn't know any better."

"Then we'll teach her," Price says with finality, getting up from the couch in one fluid motion and approaching your small curled up form on the armchair.

You let out a small, indignant sound as he picked you up effortlessly in his arms, patting your back gently to calm you down. One of his hands went to caress the gold bracelet on your arm, a satisfied smile crossing his face, as if reminding himself he had a witch once again.

"Mhm, me and Kyle will take our time teaching her everything she needs to know. Gonna be a proper witch, aren't you, witchling?" Ghost rumbles gently, his voice so low it almost sounds like a growl.

You watch him get up from the couch to stand by Price, your gaze lifting to meet his face. You’re just a little alarmed as he rubs your cheek with the back of his gloved hand in a gentle caress, rumbling quietly from his chest.

You keep forgetting these beings are not humans like you're used to.

"Why cannae be a teacher too?" Soap drawls from where he’s now leaning against the farthest wall, Kyle just smiling in amusement as he stands by his side, arms crossed.

"You're not cut for it." Ghost deadpans back, still rubbing your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Ah'll let ya knae I'm totally cut for it." He smiles back deviously, approaching you all with confident steps and an amused Kyle right behind him. "Right, lassie?"

Ghost rolls his eyes slightly at Soap's antics, hovering close to you as Price gently lowers you to the ground, in case you lose your balance.

"I still don't get it..." You mumble, a bit confused as you look up at their faces. "And... my grandpa... he must be worried about me... I-I have to... go back..."

Johnny immediately frowns at your words, approaching you instinctively like you were gonna run away any second now, but Price nods slightly, pensive.

"Actually, that's a good idea. Let's meet this "grandpa" of yours."

[wisecura]

Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?” 

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on. 

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous—definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates. 

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer. 

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone. 

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions. 

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two. 

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist. 

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal. 

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a  friend. 

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you. 

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before. 

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were. 

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“ 

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back. 

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy. 

They began popping up on your dual missions,  offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date.  Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.  

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about. 

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better. 

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew. 

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you. 

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was  your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be. 

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality. 

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you. 

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse. 

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease. 

 You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't? 

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply. 

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you. 

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry. 

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents. 

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun. 

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him. 

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset? 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

[capellla]

Our Chemistry / First Love Making

Hello, in this reading we will look at your first time together with your person and their reaction to your body. You can read this pac reading for whoever you want or your future spouse. In the extended version we will look at the act itself ,their kinks, and their after thoughts and feelings. This pack can also be purchased privately on my patreon. So check it if you are interested.💚

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1 I see you two walking freely on a street on the night of your first. You will both be enjoying the silence and that night atmosphere. It may be early days in your relationship, but you are clearly in a relationship and maybe even just announced it. At that time, you will want to return home after spending some time with each other, and he will want to stay out a little longer. You will feel deep down that the time has come and something may happen. However, he or she will display an enthusiastic but self-controlled attitude. You will want it deep down and you have actually thought about everything in your head a little bit. For him, this situation is unexpected and he feels that he needs to control himself. You will both have to think about this situation for a while. Whose house will you return to and will the other person stay there? But eventually he won't be able to resist and will start kissing you while you're out at that point.His kisses will reveal his slow, loving yet passionate nature.You'll both get the message and return home, and you won't be able to wait any longer. He will lay you down on the bed and slowly move your clothes down your legs.

Their reaction to your body

If you have scars or moles on your body, he will love them and I see him running his hands over them. He will love and want you with everything you have. There will be no problem or limitation for him. He will like every inch and side of you. I can see that he will especially like between your legs. He will caress that part of you and make you relax. Don't worry about your breasts and top, it will be no problem at all. You may not be ideal, but every part of you is beautiful for him.

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2 This night will happen after a moment when you were upset with each other and your hearts were broken. You will be open to this night spiritually and he will be dreaming of this moment but he or she will not show it. I see you going home in a car. You are not living together yet. He takes you to your house and leaves you at the door. But he wants to come with you because he does not want to leave you without resolving this issue. Even though you seem not to want to, you accept. Your partner is very confident and knows what to do. While he sits on a sofa, you go to your bedroom and prepare yourself. Then you call him and start solving the problem with a different method. This person is very confident and prepared and probably experienced. He knows how to entertain you and mend your heart.Even though you seem chaste, you are sincerely waiting for this moment because you want him closer to you.

Their reaction to your body

You may not be the most confident person when it comes to your body. You may have flaws or parts of yourself that you think are flaws. That's why you may have a hard time opening up to him/her easily the first time. And you may reflect that on him/her. He/she may also feel a little uncomfortable about this and may not know what to do to appease you. But this person will definitely love you and adore you, especially your flaws. He/she will especially love your back and the way you look from behind. He/she will love your hair. I can honestly see that he/she will love you from head to toe. But you being so hard on yourself may also bother him/her at first.

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3 This will happen at your home tonight, maybe after a date and a romantic dinner. You are in a very sensual and sexual energy and you have expectations from this day. Your partner is a little more introverted and tends to close himself/ herself off. Of course, he is also waiting for this moment, but he just can't predict when it will come. It seems like you will be the one to open him up and take control a little more. Right after dinner, I see you lying down on the couch or somewhere. Then one of you will probably get on top of another and start kissing right away. Its probably you initiating this first night.

Their reaction to your body

This person will shower every inch of your body with love. You are already very confident and don't expect anything from him, but this person will feel very lucky to have you. I see a sense of pride forming inside him. He will want to show you off to everyone, but of course he will keep you to himself and only to himself. The thought of someone else touching you will drive him crazy, and he will feel a little protective.

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[vanesycho]

Can u write maths professor Haechan nsfw? And I ssly love your works so much 🥺 you are so amazing 💚✨

• student f!reader x math professor!haechan | m.list

warning | smut, fingering, kinda age gap

word count | 1,4k

a/n | thank you very much for your nice comment love, I hope you like it🤍

enjoy reading！

The corridors of the mathematics department on the vast campus of the university were always quiet. Professor Lee Donghyuck was a figure who brought this silence to life with his energetic demeanor. The reason he was popular among the students was not only his charisma, but also his teaching skills that could make even complex topics understandable. However, at this point, you definitely didn’t care about the lesson.

Your eyes started to focus on him instead of the equations on the board, the way he held his pencil, the way he adjusted his glasses every now and then, the way he explained the problem to the students by leaning slightly towards them, his shirt rolled up to his elbows, the mocking yet warm smile on his lips when one of the students gave the wrong answer...

“Y/n L/n.” When you looked around, an empty lecture hall greeted you, Hyuck’s gaze was fixed on you, you quickly lowered your head and started to pack your things. You were about to pick up your notebook when a hand stopped you. When you looked up, you were met with him. “Should we talk about this constant distraction you experience?” his voice was deep and whispery, making you swallow hard as you looked away from him. “I’m sorry professor.. It wasn’t something I did on purpose.” he slowly pulled his hand away from your notebook, quickly grabbing your last item and standing up. “Did I say you can go?” you were about to walk past him but his voice stopped you. He reached you in a few steps, you felt a shiver run down your spine when his breath caught your ear. “Tell me, what did you learn in this lesson?”

Fuck. Your eyes drifted to the board as you muttered a curse under your breath. Hyuck’s hand found your chin when he noticed it, turning your face to him. "Ah-ah, no cheating. Since when did you stop listening so much?" it was more of a scolding than a question, he definitely didn’t expect an answer from you so you just stayed silent. “Understood. You better come to my office tomorrow. We need to make up for the lesson you missed, okay?” you nodded in agreement as the thought of being alone with him increased your blood circulation. “I don’t think I got an answer, Y/n?” He leaned towards you, the word 'I understand' you mumbled vaguely made him grin slightly, you let out a breath the moment he finally pulled away from you, even this small conversation was driving you crazy so you didn't stay there any longer and threw yourself out.

"Come in." The door opened and Hyuck's head shot up, a smile on his face as his eyes saw you. "Ah..Y/n. I've been waiting for you." He started the lesson without much conversation between you. But the same problem distracted you again, him. His voice had taken over your focus, you looked at the pen he was twirling in his fingers, not even understanding what he was talking about. Was he delicate with his fingers? Or was he the type who acted completely cruel? Oh, you would do anything to get the answer to that.

You licked your dry lips, his hand with slightly veined eyes made you press your legs together. Donghyuck's gaze occasionally went to you, he could clearly see that you weren't focusing, he put the pen he was holding on the book and took a deep breath. "You're not focusing Y/n, what's on your mind, hm?" Your breath caught for a moment, you looked at him, "No- nothing, professor." He hummed. Then stood up and took a book out of his bookshelf and placed it in front of you. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the book you were browsing for a few seconds was about math. Hyuck reached for the book from behind you and opened a page. “Read it. Out loud and if I see you’re distracted, nothing good will happen, understand?”

You nodded quickly, moving to sit next to you as you starting to read. “Integral..” you read the title, you could see him watching you with his eyes locked on your face, the tension gripping you, even though it was hard to continue knowing he was watching you, you knew you had no other choice. “The indefinite integral is found by inverting the derivative of a function and the constant of integration...” was the thing that cut you off mid-sentence is his hand on your thigh, only amusing him as your breathing stopped momentarily. You could feel him moving closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “What’s wrong Y/n? You seem distracted again.” he knew exactly what he was doing and it was only getting on your nerves. His hand reached up a little higher, thumb gently caressing you over the panties under your skirt. You fought with yourself not to squeeze your legs together, holding your breath for a moment again as his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh hard. “You know I don’t like my questions to go unanswered, do I have to repeat myself?”

You shook your head, opening your mouth to answer. “No- no I..It’s okay Professor Lee.” He removed his hand from your leg and stood up, grabbing the book in front of you. You let out a deep breath and watched him as he finally moved away. He put the book back in its place and spoke as he approached the table again. “This is what’s disrupting your concentration.” He turned the chair towards him and placed one hand on the top of the chair, leaning slightly towards you. “We can’t continue with this lesson until we find a solution to this problem.” His voice was whispery and made your body tremble. “So sit at the table and spread your legs for me, Miss L/n.”

You were afraid to double-check what he said, and he knew that you wouldn’t go against him when it was Lee Donghyuck. So you got up from the chair and sat on the table and soon he got between your legs, went to your panties, he moved the piece of fabric to the side and his fingers found your pussy "Oh fuck.. How long have you been so wet hm?" His middle finger caressed your clit for a while then slid down, slowly inserting it into your hole. One of your hands went to his shoulder and you squeezed it lightly to keep from moaning, his finger was slow but it felt just as good.

After a while you let out a loud moan this time as he added his second finger "Shh.." his voice found your ear, fingers started to destroy your pussy quickly "Professor..." the needy sound made him mutter a curse. You knew you were close to orgasm, his fingers were moving as if he knew your insides by heart.

"Professor Lee, are you there?"

The sound of a knock on the door made you look at him in fear, he looked into your eyes and replied "What's wrong Sion?" You waited for him to stop, but he fooled you. You put a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noise, nothing more than small whimpers, but damn it you knew you were going to cum soon. “I came to ask you a question about the last class, are you free?” he grinned, leaning into your ear before answering. “Am I free? What’s the worst that could happen if he walks through that door, Miss L/n?” You shook your head quickly, adrenaline rushing through your entire body. “Please..” were the only words you could get out of your mouth, the fact that you were in such a tight spot that it only made him laugh, his fingers curling inside you making it hard for you to hold yourself back, you leaned your head against his chest and finally climaxed. You couldn’t help but moan loudly as all your fluids hit his fingers, “Professor Lee? Is everything okay? Think I heard some- ” while interrupting his sentence he pulled his fingers out of you. “Find me back in an hour Sion. I’m busy right now.”

After a few footsteps, the surroundings became quiet, you heard a giggle as you buried your head in his chest in embarrassment. “Good job, Miss L/n. See? You managed to cum without losing your focus, so that must be the problem.” You watched him clean up the place, after a while he came back across you and put his hands on either side of the table, squeezing you. “I hope you’ll be more careful from now on. If I see you distracted again, I won’t care if people see you this time.” You nodded in approval, he placed a small kiss on your lips and whispering, “Well done, my girl. We’ll continue our unfinished lesson tomorrow, okay? Class is over for now.”

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[viperify]

girl omg i need academic rivals with mattheo !!! the rest is up to you, ily 🫶

Smutmas 2024 | 𝗱𝗲𝗰 𝟬𝟭: ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Just shut up.

Short summary: Turns out even the best have to resort to cheating once a while. You wouldn’t let him get away with it though. As you then pay him a visit at his dorm, confronting him, he turns to his usual methods of getting himself out of trouble…

Warnings: oral f!receiving, rough sex (somewhat), unprotected p in v

A/N: This is my first time writing Mattheo. Be nice. 😾

wordcount: 2,2k

You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed from the back of the classroom.

The self-claimed Potions master, Mattheo Riddle, cheating on an exam while Snape wasn’t looking in his direction. Shaking your head slightly, you averted your attention back to your exam paper. You couldn‘t let him get away with that. Especially as Potions was one of the few subjects he could easily outscore you in.

Christmas should be the festival of love and peace, you knew that. Though him getting a better grade than you solely because he cheated – it wasn’t right.

Festive decorations adorned the castle at this time of the year. It was soothingly calm around you, only distant whispers cutting through the otherwise quiet surroundings. Clearly, you thought. Not many students were around at that point anymore, most of them having left the castle to return home during the break. You sighed, secretly wishing to go home, see your parents, who currently were on a trip to visit a distant family member.

Exhaling softly, you made your way back to the Slytherin dormitories after having eaten dinner in the Great Hall. You descended the stairs and just when you were about to enter your dorm, a familiar figure disappeared behind the corner leading to the boys’ dormitories. The brunette curls undoubtedly revealed it was Mattheo, who had apparently also stayed back at Hogwarts. Perfect, you thought.

You reckoned it was a great idea to pay him a visit, to confront him, threaten him. You assumed you’d get something out of it, make him admit his wrongdoings. Though it didn’t exactly go according to plan.

That’s how you now find yourself trapped between the cold stone wall of his dorm and himself, easily towering over your smaller form.

“You might want to repeat that?” He sneers, acting like he didn‘t hear you the first time. You knew his games, the way he was trying to intimidate you, silence you. You wouldn’t give in that easily though.

“You cheated on the Potions exam, Riddle. I saw it. And if you don’t admit it yourself, I will have to report you.” You state best as you can, arms crossing over your chest, standing your point.

His eyes darken, realization setting in. He scoffs, inching closer to you. “You didn’t see shit.“

You almost laugh. “Well, I did. And you will have to live with the consequences.”

He just looks at you for a few seconds, and you can almost see the thoughts forming behind his brown eyes. A sly smirk forms on his lips. Mattheo then leans in impossibly, uncomfortably close to your face, but you are denied any complaints as he speaks up.

“You know, darling“ he pauses, his breath hot against your cheek as his fingertips ever so softly trail up the exposed skin of your thigh, halting when he reaches the hem of your skirt. “I have also happened to catch a sight of you looking for the answers just about… here.” With that, he firmly squeezes the flesh of your thighs, drawing a breathy gasp from you, his touch electrifying on your hot skin.

“That’s not- not true.“ you stammer and he grins in response. Fuck.

Mattheo’s gaze sinks to where he had just touched you, exhaling shakily as his eyes travel back up your form, and after staring an awful long time at your covered breasts, his brown eyes finally meet yours. “I too could tell on you. How you write the answers under that slutty skirt of yours.”

You huffed, shaking your head slightly, finally turning away to escape his intense stare.

“Hm? Cat got your tongue?” He smirks sheepishly, delivering another squeeze to your thigh.

“Riddle I sw-“ your words were cut off by his lips hungrily crashing onto yours, his hand sneaking up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing down around it. “Shut up.” Mattheo groans as you two break apart, catching your breath. “Let’s forget about it. Just shut up.”

“That’s how you solve your problems, is that it, hm?” You sneer, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “I am not one of your toys. It doesn’t work li-“

He cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Another kiss, this time more wanting, hungrier, and to your dismay, you couldn’t help yourself but moan into the kiss.

Then, when you were able to overcome your demons and finally kiss him back, he pulls away, his signature smirk decorating his face. “It doesn’t work like that, huh?” He taunts, winking at you, taking a step back.

Idiot, you think. Your eyebrows furrow, pushing yourself of the wall. “Just shut up.” You murmur, closing the gap between you two another time.

Then, his hands sneak around your waist as he groans into your mouth, pulling you with him as he sinks down onto his bed. Mattheo has you sat on his lap while you two practically devour each other, your hand tugging on his brunette curls, that you, if you now think about it, learned to love over the years. When you then break apart and slowly open your eyes, you find a changed man in front of you. He doesn’t any longer look at you in spite, if anything – with pure lust. A sight you preferred a thousand times over the usual way he would glance at you during classes.

As he is adjusting his posture, slightly thrusting upwards in the process, you feel it. You feel just how hard he is underneath you. You bite your lip and grin, eagerly grinding your hips on him, causing friction just where you need it most. One of his hands guides you, the other trailing up your thigh. He barely touches your skin, yet you feel the burn of his touch. It’s hot, it’s electrifying. It’s what you have secretly desired for a long time. Mattheo steadily makes his way under your skirt, giving the flesh of your ass a firm squeeze. You moan, and as you tilt your head back, he leans in to trail soft, open mouthed kisses all the way from your jaw down to your shoulder and back up. He sucks, bites, leaves marks. “Fuck- you are mine now. Want it or not, I don’t give a damn.”

The only reply you manage is a quick nod, though clearly unsatisfied with your non-verbal answer, his teeth dig into your tender skin, not enough to draw blood, yet enough to leave a bruise. “M’ yours! All yours!” You hiss, not really thinking about what you are saying, too focused on the building ache in your lower stomach, too focused on how his lips feel on your body. “That’s a good girl.” The brunette praises you, now slightly thrusting against you. At this point, you are a mess. You feel your arousal sticking to your panties, surely already having left a wet patch on his trousers as well.

“Merlin Mattheo, please, I need you.” You whine, close to begging him with all you have left just to feel him inside of you. Pathetic, you think to yourself. Mere minutes ago you were still up against his throat. Atleast you now have an answer. The rumours are true after all, he truly knows how to wrap girls around his finger. You just didn’t think he could do it with you. Yet here you are, yearning to have all of him.

He doesn’t leave you much time to rethink your choice, making quick work of your clothes before he flips you around, almost too easily, too skilled, you think, but you don’t dare complain. Not now, when you are too far gone anyway, mind clouded by pure lust.

Mattheo places himself between your legs, and you close your eyes in anticipation. You feel just how hot his breath is against where you need him most, where every nerve of yours is aching to be touched, to be caressed. And so he does, softly at first. He leans down to place a kiss on your clit, drawing a moan from your parted lips.

With your eyes still closed, every single touch, every breath of his feels a hundred times more intense, and you almost shriek when his tongue first slides through your folds, and he groans, the vibrations spreading through your core. “Who knew you would taste so fucking heavenly, hm? You are soaked, and it’s all for me, darling.”

You open your mouth to argue with him, tell him to just shut up and get to work. Mattheo though is just a tad bit quicker and finally wraps his lips around your puffy clit, expertly licking and sucking on it, adding two fingers which immediately find the spongey spot inside of your cunt that has you see stars.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He demands, and you do as he says, even though it’s hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head with how good he’s making you feel.

You threaten to get lost in the depth of his brown eyes that draw you right in as he stares back up at you. And then, you clench around him, exhaling through your mouth as your head falls back, your surroundings suddenly becoming a blur when you feel yourself at the brink of release. One last thrust of his fingers, you think, and your body would shatter, shatter around the very man you despised. But then- suddenly, it’s gone and you feel empty, your orgasm fading away. Your eyes blink open to spot a half amused Mattheo in front of you, licking his fingers clean.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, catching your breath. “I was so close!”

He laughs. “Darling, the only way you are going to come is around my cock.”

You scoff in return. That fucking idiot. “I hate you, Riddle.”

“You hate me, huh?” He asks with a smirk, voice low and seductive as he pushes himself up, inching closer to your face, now a mere centimetre away from your lips. He looks down at them and back up again to meet your wanting eyes. “Yet, I get to fuck you.”

“Go on then. Do it.” You encourage him, because after all, you have had enough. You need this release, whatever it may cost. He smirks, well aware of how much it infuriates you.

Then finally, you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. And he moves slowly, too slow for your liking. First, he looks down to where your bodies are about to connect, and then, with a bit more doubt present in his voice, he asks you one last question. “You ready? I am not going to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.” You reply huskily, and at last, Mattheo pushes into you. You gasp at his size as you stretch around him, almost painfully so, and he slows down for a moment. “Matt-“

He shushes you. “I know. Just breathe.” You nod. One slow and deliberate thrust after the other, letting you adjust to him. When he feels you relax around him, he finally picks up the pace, your legs wrapped around him as he thrusts into you. “Oh Merlin- please-“ you moan, and he glances down as he hovers over you. “What do you want, darling? Tell me.”

You want him, all of him. Deeper, harder, anything. “Please, I need you. Need more of you.”

Mattheo nods in response, breathing heavily above you, his curls sticking to his forehead as gives you what you want. He slams into you from a different angle now, allowing him to go deeper, brushing against your cervix with almost every thrust.

“Fuck Mattheo, please- I am going to-“ you almost scream, the sensations overwhelming as his fingers find your needy clit, rubbing figure eights on it. “Me too, darling. Let go for me. Show me how pretty you look when you come for me.”

His words send you spiraling over the edge, pure pleasure reverberating ting through your body, and for a moment you feel like you are levitating, levitating from the way your climax had struck you, from the way he was making you feel. You clench frantically around him, and he groans loudly. His thrusts have now become ragged and uneven, cock twitching before he spills himself inside of you at last, thick, hot ropes of cum decorating your inner walls. Mattheo then collapses on top of you, entirely spent as your sweaty bodies embrace each other.

You both catch your breaths as you calm down from your highs, and after a minute he rolls off of you. You sit up, expecting him to tell you to leave either way. Though, he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I thought you’d want me to go. You know this was only for-“ he sighs and closes his palm over your mouth. “Just shut up.” He says.

You decide to stay with him in the end, lying on his chest. Just as your eyes were threatening to close, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep, he speaks up once more.

“Christmas is the festival of love and peace, I assume you are aware of that?”

You nod and he lets the thought linger in the air for a while.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” You smile.

[maskedbyghost]

arranged marriage with simon is everything! can you bless us with more thoughts about them? lyy

i wanted to write about this for a few days so i hope you like it :)

the mission’s over. it’s finally done. everything that brought you and simon together under the pretense of an arranged marriage has wrapped up. now, you’re both standing in captain price’s office, watching as he slides a stack of papers across his desk—divorce papers.

“well, that’s that,” price mutters, not quite meeting either of your eyes. “once you two sign these, we can close this chapter. clean break, like we agreed.”

you nod, but your throat feels tight, and your hands won’t move. you’re standing beside simon, close enough to feel the tension radiating off him, but neither of you says anything. price lingers for a moment, clearly sensing the awkwardness in the air, but he doesn’t push. he just nods to both of you and heads out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

the silence that follows feels suffocating. the divorce papers sit on the desk, staring up at you like a cruel reminder of what’s supposed to come next.

but you don’t reach for the pen. neither does simon.

you just stare at the papers. it should be easy—this was always meant to be temporary. but the thought of signing them makes your stomach churn. you can’t imagine not having simon by your side anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. and yet, you don’t know how to say it out loud.

you glance over at simon, and he’s looking right at you. his dark eyes are searching your face, trying to figure out what you’re thinking. his hand twitches, he looks at you like he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come.

instead, he just steps closer, his gaze flicking between you and the papers on the desk. and when he sees that you’re not moving, not signing, something in his expression shifts. a flicker of realization.

without a word, simon grabs the divorce papers and, in one swift motion, pulls out a lighter from his pocket. your heart races as you watch him flick it open, the flame catching the edge of the papers. they burn slowly at first, but then the fire spreads, curling the pages into ash as they drop to the floor.

you don’t say anything. you’re too stunned to react. but simon turns to you, his eyes blazing with an intensity you haven’t seen before. he steps forward, closing the distance between you, and when he’s just inches away, he cups your face in his hands.

“you’re not leaving me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm. his thumb brushes your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. “ever.”

you swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat. “simon—”

“no,” he interrupts softly, but there’s no anger in his tone. just raw determination. “you’re mine, love. this… this isn’t ending.”

and then he kisses you.

he’s pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken feeling into that kiss. you melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality. because, in a way, he is.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his breath is warm against your lips. “we’re not signing anything,” he whispers. “i don’t care what anyone says. you’re my wife. that’s not changing.”

you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “good,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “because i wasn’t going to sign them either.”

simon smirks, his hands still cradling your face. “figured as much.”

the mission might be over, but this—whatever this is between you and simon—is just beginning.

-------------------------------------------

MY TURN NOW GOD PLEASE

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[v6quewrlds]

❝ sky full of stars, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe's a big space nerd. you're a big space nerd. it's a match made in space nerd heaven.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: literally laid awake last night thinking about this. decided to write it during my lecture. short and sweet but i love writing joe in love. suppressing the urge to cite my sources on this lol. ty to wikipedia's black holes article <3 also don't worry y'all will still get a game day fic on sunday 🙂‍↕️

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: science talk, general cheesiness.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x nasa engineer!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 1k.

Your eyes scanned the living room, your gaze lingering on the framed LSU jersey hanging on the wall. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you thought of Joe's insistence on displaying his pride so prominently in his Cincinnati home. Despite his celebrity status, he remained as down-to-earth as the day the two of you met eight months ago, a quality you cherished deeply.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet room as the documentary's narrator droned on about black holes. Joe's breathing grew even and steady, his head comfortably nestled in your lap. You felt his hand twitch in his half-sleep, his thumb brushing against your thigh through the fabric of your shorts. You gently stroked his hair, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Your thoughts drifted to the upcoming mission you were helping to prepare at the Johnson Space Center. The excitement of possibly making more discoveries on your Mars probe was palpable, and you couldn't wait to get back to Houston. Yet, here you were, feeling more content than ever, with a man you never thought you’d end up with. The rhythmic beat of Joe's heart against your palm was a reminder of the love the two of you had found amidst your two dramatically different lives.

You leaned back, your hand still cradling Joe's head, and refocused on the documentary. The TV screen flickered with images of stars, galaxies, and cosmic phenomena that you knew so well from your work, yet seeing them here, in Joe's home, made them feel so much more profound.

“So, how do black holes, like, eat stars?” Joe’s sleepy voice interrupted the silence. His eyes remained closed, but his mind was clearly still processing the information he had been hearing.

“It’s not so much that they eat stars, but rather they have such intense gravitational pull that nothing can escape them, not even light,” You explained, your voice a soothing murmur. You felt Joe’s head shift slightly, his curiosity piqued.

“So, it’s like a cosmic vacuum cleaner?” He mumbled, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the room. “In a way, yes. But a vacuum cleaner you definitely don’t want to get too close to. Once something enters a black hole, it’s gone forever.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “How can something be that powerful?” His gaze was earnest, the curiosity in his eyes warming your heart.

“It’s all about the mass and gravity. When a star dies and collapses, it can become so dense that its gravity is just too much for anything to resist. Not even light can escape, which is why we call them black holes. They’re like the universe’s trapdoor.” Your voice was soft, your eyes shining with the same enthusiasm that had captured Joe’s attention when you’d first described your job to him.

Joe nodded, his eyes drifting back to the TV screen. His fingers twined with yours, and you felt a gentle squeeze. “And what happens when something does fall in?” His question was genuine, his curiosity a bridge between your worlds.

“Well, we think that anything that gets too close gets stretched out like spaghetti. But before that, it passes the point of no return, gravity gets so intense that it bends time and space itself. It’s like nothing we can truly imagine.” Your words painted a vivid picture in the quiet room, your voice a mix of wonder and knowledge.

“You’re like nothing I could truly imagine. You’re like my own black hole, pulling me in with your brilliance every day.” Joe’s words were a gentle whisper, his blue eyes opening to find yours, a warmth that didn’t quite match the cosmic chaos on the screen.

Your heart fluttered. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Heisman.” You leaned down to kiss his forehead, your smile tender. The room felt smaller, the universe’s mysteries forgotten as the two of your shared a moment of quiet intimacy.

The documentary played on, but your attention had shifted. Joe’s hand found yours again, fingers interlocking. He pulled himself up, dirty blonde hair messy from rest, eyes squinting in the light. “You know I’m going to keep asking questions until I understand everything you do, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Joey. You know I love talking about this stuff with you.” Your voice was filled with affection as you reached for the remote and paused the documentary. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the only light source in the otherwise darkened space.

Joe sat up, his hand still holding yours. He leaned in, your eyes locking for a brief moment before your lips met in a gentle kiss that grew in passion. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you shifted on the couch to face him. Your kisses grew deeper, a silent declaration of your love and appreciation for one another’s differences and shared moments of wonder.

As you pulled apart, Joe whispered, “You know, I still can’t believe you agreed to go out with me. A guy who throws a football for a living asking out a NASA engineer.” His self-deprecation made you laugh again, the sound music to his ears. “Still not sure why you’re with me.”

“Why not?” you said, your voice filled with warmth. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Joe. And you’re incredibly good at what you do. Maybe not launching rockets, but you have your own kind of rocket science going on out there on the field.”

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. “You always know what to say to boost my ego.”

“I’ll say whatever it takes to get me ahead of Ja’Marr in your heart,” you teased with a laugh, leaning forward to steal another kiss from his pink lips. The warmth of his breath tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Joe’s arms tightened around you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at catching my throws.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at catching your heart, so I think we’re even,” you quipped back, your eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

Joe’s chuckle grew louder, the sound rumbling through the room like thunder. He leaned back, pulling you with him until you were lying on top of him, your legs draped over his. “You definitely win that title, babe. No contest.”

Your smile never left your face as you looked down at him. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You felt his heartbeat beneath you, a steady drum that matched the rhythm of your own. The air between the two of you was electric, the kind of charge that could spark a star into existence.