#my face was hurting from how big I was smiling when watching it
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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️
It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?
ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe
Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.
this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe
It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.
their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick
Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 
this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.
The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 
the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS
 “You should sit down.”
oh suck a dick
It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.
in love to hate omg
Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”
THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER
And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.
i would crashout
Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.
hm.
This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.
they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them
Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 
that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary
His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.  "Yeah? Get in line."
LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD
Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.
i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene
“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”
HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO
“Yeah, I got someone.”
that's right baby tell em
💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care
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You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.
Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.
After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.
But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.
Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.
When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.
You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.
After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 
None of it was a choice you should have to make. 
It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?
You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 
Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.
Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.
Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.
Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.
So that left Sarah. 
It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.
It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.
You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 
The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.
Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.
Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.
Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 
You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.
Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.
The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.
But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 
Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 
Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.
She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.
You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.
You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 
Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.
You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.
You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.
You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!
You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.
Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.
You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.
One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 
You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 
The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 
Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.
This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.
Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.
You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.
Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.
Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.
"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.
How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?
You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 
Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.
You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.
The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.
 “You should sit down.”
It felt like a sidekick to your chest.
The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 
Except this was real.
Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.
You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.
“Go away. I’m fine.”
But he didn’t move.
He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 
“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”
“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”
“I wasn’t—"
You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”
Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”
He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.
“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.
He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.
“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.
The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.
“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”
JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.
“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.
“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”
“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”
You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.
You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.
"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."
You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”
It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.
He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 
She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"
JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”
You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah?”
He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.
God, he could be so exasperating.
He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.
As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 
“Don’t you have something better to do?” 
“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 
You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.
Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.
He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 
Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.
“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 
“I told you, I’m fine.”
He let go, but he didn’t back away.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”
He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 
He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.
You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 
The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.
You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 
Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion
“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 
You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.
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Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 
You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 
Rafe. 
Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.
“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.
He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”
“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”
“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”
He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 
“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”
“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”
He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.
“Not happening.”
Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.
“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 
Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.
His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.
“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”
You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.
Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.
You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 
How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.
Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 
“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.
And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.
You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.
What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?
You hated yourself for caring at all.
Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.
There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.
This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.
“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 
He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 
“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”
You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 
“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”
He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."
You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.
It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.
You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.
But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.
“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”
He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”
“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 
“Put me down!” 
You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 
“Rafe, I swear—”
He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.
He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.
“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.
You could feel your heart breaking all over again.
You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.
This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.
You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 
“Get your hands off me.”
His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.
“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”
Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”
For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 
His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 
A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 
 "Yeah? Get in line."
Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.
You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 
He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.
Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.
You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.
You’d already shown him too much. 
You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.
You were seething. He had no right to do this.
The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.
You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.
He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.
You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 
“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”
You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’m not going in.”
Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.
“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”
“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”
“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”
“And what?” you interrupted.
“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”
Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”
Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”
“You’re not coming in."
He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”
Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.
“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”
“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”
You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 
“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.
Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.
You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.
“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”
You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.
“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”
“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”
You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.
“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”
“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”
This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.
She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.
“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”
A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”
She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”
You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 
“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”
“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”
Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 
Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.
“Just head down to Room 12.”
All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.
This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.
The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.
They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.
When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.
But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.
The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.
You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.
Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.
“Yeah, I got someone.”
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ppssession · 3 days ago
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It wouldn't hurt to switch roles sometimes.
Denis is a skinny nerd who looks very weak during his school break. Instead of having a relaxing break, he has to work at a seaside resort to earn money to survive because he is alone with no parents
One day while he was working hard, he met the son of the owner of this resort. He was a hot guy with a hot body that made my heart flutter. He was often at the beach showing off his beautiful muscles. He came to stay here during the school break. He seemed to be the same age as me, which made me feel a little jealous because our fates were so different
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Later, I often noticed him disappearing into a small stone alley to take a nap during the day. When he was sleeping, I would often sneak up on him to watch him. I admired his handsome face while he was sleeping, which made my heart beat faster. When I returned, I would sometimes be reprimanded by my boss for disappearing for a while One day while I was cleaning my room in the morning, I found a strange coin. It had small letters that said “Switch”. I was a little surprised when I looked at it, but I didn’t really care. After I finished cleaning, I walked out of the room and looked at the beach. I saw a young man who had made my heart flutter not long ago. Even though I had been watching him for a while, I still didn’t know his name. I tried to ask my boss, but he gave me a stupid reason that a temporary employee like me didn’t need to know the name of the resort owner’s son. Even though I was hurt, I couldn’t do anything. At work, I didn’t even have any friends to talk to.
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Not long after, my boss ordered me to bring him sunglasses. "Why didn't he go get them himself?" I thought to myself as I brought him sunglasses. When I arrived at the beach, I didn't see him. I knew immediately that he must be in that small stone alley. When I arrived at the stone alley, I was shocked to see him lying naked. Normally, he would wear pajamas, but now he took off his pajamas to reveal his big, long penis. Its thickness made my heart beat very fast. I stared at it, looking at every part of his body as he slept. But suddenly, I felt a vibration from a coin in his pocket. When I opened it, I found a strange coin that shook and glowed. I took it out and saw the small letters that said "Switch". It was shining very brightly. I don't know what made me say "Switch". Suddenly, my body slowly changed.
I screamed as my muscles changed. It was no wonder that no one could hear me, because the alley was quite far from the resort. But the strange thing was that no matter how loud I screamed, the body of the resort owner's son did not respond as if he could not hear me. My body gradually changed for the better. The muscles that were once thin gradually thickened until they were equal to his. My height quickly increased until they were equal to his. My face gradually changed as well. My eyes, nose, and mouth gradually changed to be his. The pain gradually decreased as almost everything gradually became his. Or was it only my penis that remained unchanged? But before I felt comfortable, my penis gradually expanded. Its size and length gradually increased. As its size and length increased, I felt as good as if someone was using his mouth to worship me.
When it was equal to his size, I reached my climax, my body trembled as I was released, I breathed heavily, looking at my changed body, running my hands over every part with satisfaction, this face, the curves of my muscles, and this genitals, it was so wonderful. I looked at the still body of the resort owner's son, his body slowly changed and shrunk into my old body. Seeing this, I smiled wickedly, took off my old clothes, stole the swimming trunks that were lying next to him to put on. "It feels so good to have a new chicken." While putting it on, I looked at the strange coin that had fallen as I slowly changed. I picked it up. When my finger touched the coin, memories of the resort owner's son flooded my mind. Addresses, passwords, family preferences, everything came to mind. "I finally know your name, Six. I am now Six Mason, the son of the hot resort owner. Denis walked out of the alley in his new identity. After walking for a while, he looked at his old body walking back to work and was reprimanded for being gone for so long. "Poor Denis, my old self." Denis, who was now Six, wore sunglasses and walked back and forth on the beach to show off his hot body like the old Six used to do. "Well, I have to think about what to do next in this new body when I get back to the resort. “I think I’d rather have fun with my new chicken, haha,” he said as he reached into his pants pocket to grab his penis that was slowly becoming hard inside his pants.
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This is a story requested by a lovely follower. I hope you, the readers and those who requested it, will enjoy it. Haha, if there are any errors, please help me fix them. I hope to continue writing stories like this. See you in the next one. Bye bye.
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lostfracturess · 7 hours ago
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LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO
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pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader
summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.
word count — 5.4 k
warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending
author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3
masterlist
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Winter had never felt so much like an ending.
You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.
Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.
It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.
You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.
You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.
The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.
"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.
"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."
He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"
"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."
"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"
"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"
He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"
"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."
"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"
"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."
The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."
He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."
"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."
"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"
"Satoru—"
"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"
"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."
He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."
"That's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."
"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."
"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"
You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."
"I was trying to impress you."
"You're always trying to impress me."
"But it's working, right?"
You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.
For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.
It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?
But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.
A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.
Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.
You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.
“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”
You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.
Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.
“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.
“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”
He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”
“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.
“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.
Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.
“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.
He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”
“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”
“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”
And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.
Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.
Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.
You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.
It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.
Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.
He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.
And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.
Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.
But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.
You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.
Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.
He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.
You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.
You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.
But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.
Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.
The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.
"Promise me something," you said then.
"Hmm?"
"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."
He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.
"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the only promise I can make."
"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"
"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."
"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."
His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."
"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"
"Someone has to."
"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.
"To you?" he finished softly.
"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."
He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.
"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."
You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."
"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"
"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"
​​"This is different—"
"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"
His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.
"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.
The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.
"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."
"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."
"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"
"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."
"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."
"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"
"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"
The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.
You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.
Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.
"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."
"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"
"Since I realized loving you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."
"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."
"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"
"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."
"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."
"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"
"This isn't your fight."
"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."
He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."
You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."
His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."
"Don't pretend those are the same thing."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.
His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."
"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."
"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"
"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."
"I'm just trying to—"
"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."
"Would you prefer if I said goodbye properly? If I made it messy and painful and real?"
"I'd prefer if you stopped pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."
The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.
You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.
Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.
But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.
He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.
"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.
You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.
Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.
He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."
The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.
You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.
How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.
Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.
"I hate you," you whispered.
He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."
"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."
His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.
He didn't.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.
"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.
The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.
But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.
The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.
Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?
But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?
If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?
The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.
Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?
Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.
You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.
Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.
Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.
But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.
But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.
You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.
The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.
Even when they choose the world over you.
The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.
But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.
Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.
After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.
The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.
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author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!
tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna
@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia
@janbannan @bloopsstuff
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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
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thelov3lybookworm · 2 days ago
Text
Cat claws
Day 2: Scarred.
Summary: Maybe he can forgive Nuts.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 1177
Warnings: cat being mean to hazel :(
A/n: azzie just loses his mind in tis lmao nd you cant blame him hazel's the most adorable little thing ever 🥹 yall just wait till she begins talking azs going to sob his eyes out (subtle foreshadowing 🎀)
@azrielappreciationweek
ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Azriel watched, amused, as Hazel attempted to crawl towards the black furry creature that sat in the corner licking its paw.
Hazel had only started crawling a week or so ago, and Azriel absolutely loved watching her drag herself around. It was often amusing to see her get angry when the carpet slowed down her movements when it caught on her clothes, or when she bumped into the couch and glared at it.
She would always turn to search for Azriel when that happened, letting out the loudest yell her tiny body could muster as if ordering him to get rid of the offending item.
Even barely eight months old, Y/n always said Hazel had her father’s ability to glare and grumble.
Azriel always scoffed in return to that statement before forcing himself to stop and realise him being grumpy only proved his mate’s words to be true.
Hazel was currently looking at her father with her brows furrowed, and Azriel blinked, coming back to the present as he realised she was trying to move over the carpet. He grinned at the anger on her face and stood, bending down once he was close enough to pick her up.
He set her down closer to the cat Y/n had insisted on getting after Hazel’s birth, her reasoning being that their daughter needed a friend and then named him Nuts.
Hazel and her best friend Nuts.
‘Get it? Hazel-Nuts’ She had giggled.
It made Azriel laugh back when she had suggested it, but soon enough he’d realised she was not joking. At all.
Azriel watched on with a smile as Hazel reached Nuts and tried to grab his fur. Nuts walked away without a look in her direction, which always pissed Azriel off. Who did the creature think it was?
"Azriel, that’s a cat. He does not understand how to act with a baby-" Y/n called out from the kitchen, having peeked into the living room to see what had caused her mate to get so mad that his emotions reached her through the bond.
"Well how long does it take to learn? I swear to the mother one day I'm kicking him out if he continues to bully my daughter."
Azriel heard Y/n sigh and walk closer to him as Hazel crawled towards Nut again. He now sat closer to the hearth, where a fire burned red to ward off the winter chill that was beginning to set over Velaris.
"Az-"
But Azriel did not hear the rest of Y/n’s sentence.
His ears began ringing as he stepped forward as if in a daze, eyes sharp on the raised paw of Nuts, who, having seen Hazel get close to him again, tried to hit her.
The firelight glinted off his claws.
And then Hazel’s loud cries filled the room as her head reared back, eyes clenched shut in pain.
She had a habit of flopping on her back when she was mad. Azriel had never really worried too much about that particular habit of Hazel’s until now, when she was too close to the fire and the tiniest movement would end up with her-
No, Azriel did not want to complete the thought.
In that moment of panic, Azriel did not care that there was a glass covering separating the fire from the room, and that no matter what Hazel did, she would not be able to be burned.
In that moment all that mattered to Azriel was that the fucking cat living in his house had the audacity to hurt his daughter.
Azriel grabbed Hazel, frantically looking over her to check for her injuries. There weren’t any big claw marks, but the tiny scratch on the chubby flesh of her upper arm connecting it to her shoulder made Azriel see red.
He turned to glare at Y/n as he pulled Haze close.
"I am telling you Y/n. If by the time I return, that bastard is not out of this house, I will drop him into the sidra myself."
Y/n’s eyes were helpless, but Azriel did not wait for a moment longer as he walked out of the main door and took flight, his only mission to find Madja and get his daughter healed.
He did not want her to be scarred like the hands cradling her.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Flying back home, Azriel decided that he needed some time alone to figure out why he had reacted so harshly.
He knew Y/n had been right. Nuts was an animal. He did not understand how to treat babies. But Azriel did not want to admit that.
The stars were out, so clearly visible as Azriel flew his daughter back home. It had been over an hour since he’d left the house in such a hurry, wishing he could strangle the cat.
He had taken to the skies after Madja had assured him that Hazel would be fine, and had his emotions not been so high and panicked, maybe Hazel wouldn’t have cried at all. After long moments of being assured by Madja, Azrie finally calmed down and left.
"I’m sorry baby. Did I scare you?" Azriel mumbled, glancing down at his daughter who stared up at the sky with wide eyes. She only giggled back in answer.
The innocence in the sound made Azriel smile.
The smile faded just as quick as it had come when his eyes fell on his hands cradling her head and back.
They once were soft and smooth like Hazel’s. They once had grabbed his own parents hand with as much love as he now grasped his daughters. Only now, they were uglier.
If Y/n heard his thoughts, she would have yelled at him and forced him to say they were beautiful. But Azriel knew better. They weren’t, and they never would be.
The only thing he liked even a little about his hands was the fact that their texture was so different from other’s hands, Hazel always immediately figured out she was in her father’s arms.
Y/n always talked about how the same scarred hands he despised were the reason she and Hazel felt safe. Those words echoed back to Azriel when he began doubting himself. It always made him feel better.
Hazel squealed loudly when Azriel dipped lower, air pushing gently against her back.
She was so pure, so innocent. She did not even know of the cruel world she was born in.
And Azriel swore to keep it that way. He had hoped the world outside his father’s dungeon would be better, once, and quickly realised that there were people in the world that would pounce at the chance to scar innocent souls just for the sadistic pleasure of ruining their lives.
He did not want her soul to turn out as scarred as his too.
As he finally landed on the front porch of his home and heard loud meow’s coming from inside, he contemplated letting the cat stay.
Maybe a cat’s claw scratch was not that bad.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
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gremlin-girly · 2 days ago
Text
Kinktober Day 18
Title: Cheat Day
Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader
Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise
Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym
Word count: 2.9k
A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me
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Warm Up
You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.
You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.
And you hate that damn Stairmaster.
The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.
You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.
You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.
You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.
You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.
His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.
Workout. Focus on working out.
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Arms
The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.
It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.
Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.
Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.
"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."
"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."
He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.
"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.
Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.
The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."
"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.
"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"
You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.
"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.
"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."
Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.
Even if it made your heart flutter.
"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."
You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."
You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.
"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."
Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."
You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.
If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.
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Legs
Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.
The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.
"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."
Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.
You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."
After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.
"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."
"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.
You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."
You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.
His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.
"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.
"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."
You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.
Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.
You have to.
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Cardio
It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.
Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.
The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.
Maybe he's like that with all newbies...
That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.
So much for easing yourself back into it.
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After an hour, you decide to call it quits.
It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.
You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.
"Y/N?" Bucky
"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?
"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."
You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.
"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.
"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."
Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.
"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"
"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."
"Can I join you?"
You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.
"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"
"Sure," you say thickly.
Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.
The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.
"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.
Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.
You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.
You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.
You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.
You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.
"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."
"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.
You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.
"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.
"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.
Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.
"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."
He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.
"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.
"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."
You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.
Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.
"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."
"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.
"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.
"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."
"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.
"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."
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the-boundless-sea · 2 days ago
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a list of stark family moments and details i treasure 🫶
jon telling gilly she has a pretty name when they meet because sansa told him once that he should always tell a lady they have a pretty name upon being introduced (jon iii, acok)
robb sitting up with bran after he goes to bed, trying to cheer his little brother up after his fall by telling him how their mother will be home soon and after they'll do a surprise visit to jon in castle black
and bran realizing robb has started crying as he says this, and so taking on the role of comforter and reaching out to hold his big brother's hand as they sit in the dark (bran iv, agot)
robb being unable to resist correcting catelyn for leaving jon out when she says there were 'five wolves for five stark children' despite trying not to argue with her (catelyn ii, asos)
this acting as an echo of when they found the wolves and it initially appeared there were only five, and jon, arguing they should keep the pups to make bran happy, told ned it was a sign that there were five direwolves for five stark kids. even at 7-years-old, bran understands jon is leaving himself out of the count to make it match and loves his brother "with all his heart at that moment." (bran i, agot)
"he was no true stark, had never been one... but he could die like one. let them say that eddard stark fathered four sons, not three." - jon, as he attempts to leave the night's watch to join robb (jon ix, agot)
"mother. you forget my father had four sons. jon's more a stark than some lordlings from the vale who've never set eyes on winterfell." robb, as he legitimizes jon as a stark, names him his heir, and goes to release him from the night's watch (catelyn v, asos)
jon being so overjoyed when bran wakes up from his coma that he cries, hugs tyrion and runs around castle black telling random guards his brother is going to live (jon iii, agot)
arya and bran teaming up to ambush sansa with a dozen snowballs each and sansa retaliating by chasing arya throughout the castle until she tripped. arya stopping to make sure she wasn't hurt and throwing another snowball at her face when she isn't. sansa pulling arya to to the ground and covering her in snow while they both laugh the whole time.
sansa making a snow model of winterfell after reliving this memory because there's no point in snowballs without someone to throw them at. (sansa vii, asos)
everything about the story of jon and robb's ghost prank in the crypts. robb making sure they have one (1) candle about to flicker out. jon being covered in flour makes him a ghost. bran holding arya's hand and hiding behind robb. sansa just fucking taking off. arya's strategy being to punch a ghost into submission. jon and robb laughing so hard bran and arya can't even stay mad and start laughing too. the fact the entire reason it comes up is it's a memory that makes arya smile and feel brave. (arya iv, agot)
rickon being too young to understand why jon isn't sitting with them like he normally does when the king is visiting and holding up the procession when he sees jon sitting somewhere else. (jon i, agot) he keeps asking why jon isn't sitting with them throughout the feast. (bran iii, acok)
jon telling catelyn he doesn't care if she calls the guards on him, she can't stop him saying goodbye to bran.
robb being able to tell something is off with jon after this takes place, and gently asking if his mother said something and jon lying in response to smooth the situation out. (jon ii, agot)
bran wondering if direwolves miss their brothers and sisters too. (bran i, acok)
jon and robb climbing the towers at winterfell to practice shouting at one another after ned told them it's doesn't matter how brilliant a man is if his men can't hear his commands during a battle. (jon vii, asos)
arya thinking if she could see sansa again she'd kiss her and beg her pardons like a proper lady to make her happy. (arya vii, acok)
sansa, believing her younger brothers to be dead, thinks of how she'll name her sons eddard, bran, and rickon. she pictures them all looking like her "late" brothers and sometimes dreams they'll have a girl who looks like arya too. (sansa ii, asos)
when jon imagines leaving the night's watch, he thinks wistfully of having a son named robb. he also fantasizes gilly's son and mance's son would grow up as pseudo-twin brothers like him and robb (jon xii, asos)
the boys would all share a bed to stay warm whenever it got cold. i love to picture this after they got the direwolves so the humans and wolves are all in one big puppy pile. (jon vi, acok) jon also says he would lay up at night while his brothers slept next to him and make his plans to join the night's watch (jon i, agot), so in this mental picture i have all the other boys are dead asleep, while jon super seriously explains his plans to ghost at 3am.
whenever she's on the verge of reuniting with other family members, arya worries they won't want her anymore because of what she's had to do to survive. but when she thinks of reuniting with jon, she thinks "jon will want me. even if no one else does." (arya xii, asos)
bran, sansa, and arya all saying they have to be as brave or as strong as robb when they're hyping themselves up. (bran iv, asos; sansa iv, asos; arya ii, agot) jon dreaming of being "as good and true a son as robb." (jon x, asos) he's literally the golden standard for all his siblings.
robb's ghost showing up in both jon and arya's dreams, with neither one recognizing him (jon viii, asos; cat of the canals, affc)
bran being jealous of jon for thinking of the name ghost first for his direwolf because it sounds so cool while being so disdainful of rickon deciding to call his shaggydog. (bran ii, agot)
jon continuing to hope bran and rickon's consciousnesses live on in their direwolves when he believes them dead. (jon i, adwd; jon viii, asos)
bran wanting to be a wolf so he could find arya and sansa and protect robb in battle so they could all return to winterfell. (bran i, acok)
jon remembering how bran would always follow him and robb everywhere and try join in on whatever they were doing. (jon iii, agot)
rickon following robb everywhere and physically clinging to robb after their other siblings and parents are gone. robb arguing with catelyn over how scared and abandoned rickon feels with her gone. (catelyn iii, agot)
after bran wakes, rickon cries if robb's away more than half a day and asks bran when robb is coming back (bran iv, agot). when robb goes south, rickon melts down so much that he won't eat - he just screams and cries all day and attacks adults who try to comfort him. (bran vi, agot)
jon imagining both his sisters' reactions to seeing the beautiful morning frost at craster's. he pictures sansa crying from how magical it looks and arya running to touch everything he can. (jon iii, acok)
robb and jon's bickering devolving into a race where robb is laughing and hooting and jon is super serious and intent on winning, in a way that implies this is the norm for them. (bran i, agot)
not just summer, but shaggy and grey wind also howl in mourning when bran's in his coma. robb opens the window in bran's room so bran can "hear them sing." (catelyn iii, agot)
when bran hears the wolves howling again he worries it means somethings happened to one of his siblings. (bran i, acok)
jon and arya are so in tune they'd regularly speak in unison. (jon ii, agot; arya i, asos; arya i, acok; jon iii, agot)
jon and robb building a "great mountain" of snow to dump on whoever walks under the gate, even getting mance fucking rayder to be their accomplice, and then getting chased around the yard by their poor victim fat tom until their faces are "red as autumn apples." (jon i, asos)
rickon immediately asking if robb's coming home upon seeing a letter from him and upon being told no tells maester luwin to write robb back and tell him to come home and bring grey wolf and their parents back too. (bran v, acok)
the fact rickon specifically mentions he should bring grey wind back too, because we saw him playing with grey wind, summer, and shaggydog when his siblings were all gone or busy. they were basically his only friends for a time. (bran iv, agot)
when tyrion leaves to head back to winterfell, jon tells him that rickon will ask when he's coming back and to try explain it to him, and also adds to tell him he can have all his stuff while he's gone, which is just such cute little sibling thing, but also shows how even then jon thinks of the night's watch as being away; winterfell is still his home that he'll come back to one day.
he also tells tyrion to tell robb that he can melt down his sword and take up needlework because jon's going to command the night's watch and keep him safe. and of course, his pleas for tyrion to find a way to help bran are what lead tyrion to give bran his new saddle. (jon iii, agot)
despite his mistrust of tyrion and the lannisters, robb offers to let tyrion stay at winterfell after he sees how much his gift means to bran. (bran iv, agot)
robb no longer believing the direwolves were sent by the old gods after bran and rickon were believed dead, because what was the point of a gift from the gods if it didn't keep his brothers safe? (catelyn ii, asos)
bran going to the godswood to pray that robb doesn't have to leave and then adding if he does to have to leave to make it so he comes home with their sisters and parents and that rickon will understand what's happening. (bran vi, agot)
when jon and sansa remember robb after his death they both picture him with snowflakes melting in his hair, the way he was when they left winterfell. (jon xiii, adwd; sansa viii, asos)
when seeing sam off, the last thing jon says is for sam to put his hood up because the snow's melting in his hair, and sam notes the strange smile on his face when he says it. (samwell i, affc)
bran arguing lord hornwood's son out of wedlock should be named his heir, thinking of jon. (bran ii, acok)
robb being so upset when catelyn compares jon to theon that grey wind hops onto the crypt and bares his teeth at her. (catelyn v, asos)
jon wondering if ever really had any right to call arya his sister, saying he was as out of place as theon at winterfell. (jon iii, asos)
just... the contrast of jon thinking about sansa, and how since she became old enough to understand what a bastard is she's only ever referred to him as her "half-brother", but he misses her anyways... and sansa missing jon while living as alayne, calling him the only brother that remains to her and thinking "i'm a bastard too now, just like him." (jon iii, agot; alayne ii, affc)
robb also calling jon the only brother who remains to him. arya calling jon the only brother she has left. (catelyn v, asos; arya xii, asos)
rickon crying and refusing to leave bran until he's physically forced off. (bran vii, acok)
every word of this sentence shatters me: "every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; snow and stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see." (jon xii, asos)
ok now the angsty part
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like! jon is having this flashback because he feels guilty and conflicted over stannis's offer to legitimize him and name him heir to winterfell, never knowing that's exactly what robb wanted.
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(jon xii, asos)
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(catelyn v, asos)
he keeps remembering robb calling him a bastard as a mental chastisement for daring to put himself on their level, but one of robb's very last acts on earth was to name him jon stark!! bran wanted lord hornwood's illegitimate son to be allowed to succeed him because of jon!! jon doesn't think he counts as arya's brother. but he's the one she misses the most, the only one whose unconditional love she never doubts!! jon!!!
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(jon xi, asos)
and yet! despite all the shame and guilt, the thing that ultimately stops him from accepting stannis's offer is his belief that the old gods sent the stark siblings their direwolves, and he can't betray his family's gods! that's what makes his decision, above all else!
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(jon xii, asos)
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inkspiredwriting · 2 days ago
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just like his father
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
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It was a typical, chaotic afternoon in the Hargreeves household. Five Hargreeves was pacing around the living room, juggling phone calls and paperwork from the CIA. His wife, Y/n, was busy in the kitchen, preparing a snack for their two young children. Their daughter Maddie was playing with her dolls, creating an elaborate tea party setup on the floor.
“Maddie, keep your dolls away from the kitchen table, okay? We don’t want them to get hurt,” Y/n, called over her shoulder.
“Yes, Mommy!” Maddie replied, giggling as she moved her dolls to the safety of the living room rug.
Milo, their mischievous three-year-old son, was playing with a set of colorful building blocks nearby. He babbled happily to himself, stacking the blocks into a precarious tower.
“Alright, just one more call,” Five said, glancing at Y/n with a tired smile. “Then I’m all yours.”
Y/n nodded, returning his smile. “No rush. Just trying to keep the peace here.”
“Peace?” Five chuckled. “In this house? Good luck with that.”
Y/n was pouring juice into a small cup for Milo when she heard a strange popping sound from the living room. She turned just in time to see Milo disappear and reappear a few feet away.
“Uh, Five?” Y/n called, her eyes wide. “You might want to see this.”
Five ended his call abruptly and walked into the living room. “What’s up?” he asked, looking around.
“Watch Milo,” Y/n said, pointing to their son, who was now staring at the spot where he had been.
Five watched as Milo’s face scrunched up in concentration. There was another pop, and he vanished again, reappearing even further away.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Five muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got it. He’s got my powers.”
Y/n’s eyes widened even further. “You mean... he can jump through space and time like you?”
“Looks like it,” Five said, crouching down next to Milo. “Hey, buddy, can you do that again for Daddy?”
Milo looked up at Five with a big grin. “Jump!” he said, clapping his hands. With a pop, he vanished and reappeared on the couch, still smiling broadly.
“That’s incredible,” Y/n whispered, walking over to join them. “But... also a little terrifying.”
“Tell me about it,” Five said, lifting Milo off the couch and setting him back on the floor. “We need to figure out how to teach him control. And fast.”
After a quick consultation, Five and Y/n decided to take Milo outside for some practice. They found a quiet spot in the backyard where they could work with him without too many distractions.
“Okay, Milo,” Five said, crouching down again. “Let’s see if you can jump to Mommy.”
Y/n stood a few feet away, holding out her arms. “Come on, sweetie! You can do it!”
Milo’s face lit up with excitement. He clapped his hands again and vanished, reappearing in Y/n’s arms. She caught him, laughing.
“That’s my boy!” Five said, grinning. “You’re a natural.”
Maddie, who had been watching from the porch, clapped her hands in delight. “Can I jump too, Daddy?”
“Maybe someday,” Five said, winking at her. “For now, let’s just focus on keeping Milo from teleporting into the neighbor’s yard.”
“Or the future,” Y/n added, giving Five a pointed look.
Dinner was a lively affair, as always. Milo’s newfound powers added an extra layer of excitement. Every few minutes, he would disappear from his high chair and reappear somewhere else in the kitchen.
“We’re going to have to set some ground rules,” Y/n said, catching Milo as he reappeared on the counter. “No teleporting during meals.”
“Good luck with that,” Five said, smirking as he helped Milo back into his high chair. “He’s got a mind of his own.”
“Wonder where he gets that from?” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow at Five.
“No idea,” Five replied, grinning.
Bedtime was another challenge. Five and Y/n tucked Milo into his crib and turned on his nightlight, hoping for a peaceful night.
“Okay, buddy, it’s time for sleep,” Five said, brushing Milo’s hair back. “No jumping out of your crib, alright?”
“Jump!” Milo said, giggling.
“No, no jumping,” Y/n said firmly. “Just sleep.”
They both kissed Milo goodnight and quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
“Do you think he’ll stay put?” Y/n asked as they walked down the hall.
“Probably not,” Five admitted. “But we’ll deal with it. One step at a time.”
Five and Y/n were sitting in the living room, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. Five had his arm around Y/n, and she was resting her head on his shoulder.
“I can’t believe Milo has your powers,” Y/n said softly. “It’s... a lot to take in.”
“Yeah,” Five said, nodding. “But we’ll manage. We always do.”
“Do you think he’ll have the same abilities as you? Jumping through time and space?” Y/n asked, looking up at him.
“It’s hard to say,” Five replied. “He’s still so young. But whatever happens, we’ll be there to help him.”
“We’re in this together,” Y/n said, squeezing his hand.
“Always,” Five said, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what.”
They sat in comfortable silence, grateful for each other and ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Together, they knew they could handle anything.
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bastardbeewoman · 2 years ago
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Like holy shit holy shit I can't believe how good the new buddy daddies episode was??? I was totally bracing myself for some homophobic joke or any joke made at the expense of "two fathers" but.... there was NONE of it?!?!?!? The way we only got "you three have different last names?" - well yes because the three of them have only one braincell that refuses to work half of the time - or the question if the two of them were her fathers which they replied that yes, they were!!! And then!!! No hesitation about it for the whole ep!!!!!! Like hello this was so good??? So fucking good???????
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mommypieck · 1 year ago
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⌗︙・how jjk men like it ⸜⸜・
gojo
"hold on tight, baby." gojo whispers into your ear when your back presses against the door. he holds you by your thighs, bouncing you on his cock. he loves when he gets to pick you up and manhandle you the way he likes it. maybe it's your size maybe it's because he likes when you whine about his dropping you. he is the strongest after all - the best. he adores how well you take his cock, every inch of him seated in your tiny pussy. your boobs bounce with every thrust he makes, showing how powerful his thrusts are. you claw on gojo's back for support, making him smile. he knows you're about to leave marks all over his back for his friends to see. you always mark him up without knowing.
"are you gonna cum on my cock?" he asks you, dragging your pussy on the full size of his cock. he holds you up before dropping you down all the way. you nod, almost screaming when his pace speeds.
"okay, love. cum on this cock."
geto
his hands hold your ass as you bounce on his cock. your hips go up and down with geto's help from time to time. he's big and it took you a long time before you could fit him all the way in this position, that's why geto's favorite.
"do your legs hurt already?" geto asks when he notices you slowing down. you shake your head - a lie, bouncing on his cock with the stamina you have left. his eyes soften, you're tired already and yet you're still not whining and drooling from his cock.
"let me help you." he says, his hands hugging your middle. geto thrusts his cock in with all he has, making you fall on his chest. he's mean and he uses your pussy as his personal toy and you can't help but to moan and whine. as much as he loves fucking you like this, sometimes he wishes he would see his cock going inside of you, inside of your tiny pussy. you feel like a rag doll in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants to you.
toji
your face buries into the pillow as toji fucks you from behind. his big hands are on your ass, squeezing in while his cock destroys your insides. he likes fucking you like this because he sees your whole ass. he loves your ass so much and when he doesn't get to fuck it, he likes to watch it jiggle. he's much bigger than you and his thrusts feel like your whole body is being tossed around. he pulls out before pushing his entire length into you again. your pussy stretches almost painfully around him but he doesn't care, it's his pussy and he gets to fuck it how he likes.
"feeling good?" he laughs when you let you a slutty moan. he knows you love being fucked like this by how wet your pussy is. he angles his cock a bit, ramming it straight to your needy spot. tears fill your eyes, he's too good at this.
"you gonna squirt on my cock?" he trained you to be a good squirter, creaming on his cock every time he said so. he doesn't have to be afraid you won't because he's too good at what he's doing.
nanami
"i love how you feel." nanami moans into your ear, his hips fucking into you with passion. his body lays softly on top of yours while you have your legs wrapped around his body. he kisses you, speeding up his thrusts. you whine a little, sometimes you feel like he's too big for you. he has other plans with you though, he wants you to get used to his big cock. his hand travels to your neck and he thrusts in harder than before. you yelp but you let him take what's his. he kisses all over you, his hips suddenly ramming into your little pussy. you moan and whine, most of the time he's sweet but sometimes he makes you totally fall apart.
"do you like it like this?" he asks, even when he's breaking you, he's so considerate of how you feel. you nod, it's something new but you absolutely love it. he loves this position because he gets to be close to you and worship your body, but it also helps him making you into a drooling mess.
"so beautiful, you take it so well."
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suncoved · 1 month ago
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BIG MAN ON CAMPUS! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; fratboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary; you come to your first college party and have the worst panic attack of your life. who knew your knight in shining armour would be the captain of the biggest fraternity and the biggest fuck boy on campus
warnings ; panic attacks, anxiety, drugging, angst but like fluff!!
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"Liv, i'm really not sure about this"
You're best friend and roommate looked at you with a blank stare, watching as you pulled the tight white dress down that had ridden up your thighs. She had dragged you out of your dorm only 20 minutes ago, telling you that if you didn't come she was going to wake you up with a bucket of ice water.
"Cmon babe, you made me promise i would drag you to at least one party this year. and i don't break a promise. Which also means that i promise if you don't like the first 30 minutes, then we can go home and eat 30 pounds of ice cream and pass out in our makeup"
You smiled at her, trying to push yourself through whatever anxiety was coursing through you. Liv was really a good friend, even if she was harsh about it at times, you know that she wanted the best for you.
The smell of booze and sweat hit your nose immediately as you walked into the frat house, the music blasting and the rainbow lights blinding against the otherwise dark space.
Liv pulled you to the corner of the living room, smiling brightly at you and giving you an extra tight hug. "Ok! I'm gonna go get us some drinks, stay right there and don't move!"
She had to yell because of how loud the music was, wasting no time before disappearing into the kitchen.
You stood in the party like a fish out of water, biting your lip as you looked down at your feet.
You'd like to say that you weren't that much of an introvert. I mean sure you liked to be curled up with a good book from time to time, and you were studying a bit more than healthy. But you like to go out and shop with friends, talk to new people in your classes and slumber parties on the weekends.
But parties were something you did not do. It had a combination of all the things you disliked most in life. loud music, people yelling, drinking, flashing bright lights and... frat boys.
You'd already been brought out of your shell at college, you were confident enough now to present in classes and partner up with new people on assignments, but this was pushing it.
You were a sweet girl, but naive. You didn't have enough experience with greedy men and even you would admit that you resembled a lost deer more often than you would like.
You lifted your head as you heard someone approach you, looking up quickly as you assumed it was Liv coming back from the kitchen.
But it wasn't Liv.
A brunette looked straight at you as you made eye contact with him, a red solo cup resting in his hand.
"What's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone in the corner" he stated, inching closer to you as you subconsciously stepped back a bit. "I'm Jeremey"
He reached out his hand to you to shake, only to receive a dumbfounded look on your face.
"Normally people reply back with their name, Babe"
"Oh! Sorry!" you replied flustered, repeating back your name as he grinned wide, showing his bright smile.
You didn't want to admit that when Jeremy was talking to you, you continually kept glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that the next person to walk out was Liv, who was going to hopefully come to save you from this conversation.
"Hey, I was experimenting in the kitchen, wanna try my new concoction." Jeremy dangled the red solo cup in your face, the liquid pink and smelling of strawberries.
"No thank you. I don't drink" you replied sweetly, hoping to be polite and not upset him. "There's barely any in it, promise. Pleaseee, don't wanna hurt my feelings, do you?" He replied in annoyance.
A pang of hurt shot through you as you panicked, how could you have been so rude! Jeremy was taking time out of his day to talk to you and you rejected a drink he made you?
"Oh! no, I'm sorry. Thank you so much" you replied, taking the cup out of his hands and looking down at the liquid. He watched closely as you took a sip, your face twisting at the strong flavour of vodka.
"What do you think?" he smirked as he asked, bringing his hand up to your lips and wiping the extra liquid off with his thumb.
"Its- its great, thank you" you replied, your heart beating faster as you started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He watched you closely as he hinted to you to drink more, looking down at you like he was a wolf, and you were his prey.
You held back tears as you felt the room start to spin under your feet, your cheeks feeling hot and your hands shaking involuntarily. It hit you quickly that this wasn't alcohol that was making you feel like this, no, it was something else. Something much, much worse.
And you didn't want to stick around to figure out what it was.
"Um, sorry Jeremy, I need to go to the bathroom" you spoke up, using all your courage to push through the crowd quickly as he followed.
Your breath was now speeding up as you fought your way through the waves of people, your steps becoming faster as you felt the room spinning more and more, tears streaming down your face.
You didn't know where the bathrooms in this place were, but you didn't have time to think about that now.
You just needed to find Liv, or someone, anyone.
Your eyes fell on a room at the end of the hall, light spilling out of the crack where the door failed to meet the floor.
You didn't have time to think, just to act. Your balled fist made it up to the door, knocking over and over again as you looked behind you, Jeremy in the crowd but looking all over for what you assumed to be you.
You didn't even want to begin to imagine how stupid you looked, or how impolite you were being as your knocks became harsher and frantic as Jeremy came closer.
"Jesus, learn how to wait your fucking turn" a voice sounded as the door opened. you didn't even look away from Jeremy as you tumbled into the bathroom, accidentally bringing the person in the door with you.
"Yo, what the fuc-" the aggressive voice came to a halt quickly, but you all you could focus on was your breathing, which was out of control.
Your cheeks were wet with tears as you closed your eyes, bringing your hands up to your face and letting yourself sob. "I- I can't breathe" You let out, unknowing if you were talking to yourself or the person in the space with you.
You couldn't even handle your anxiety and emotions when you were in control of your body, let alone now.
That's the main reason you don't drink, because you tend to freak out to the point of no return, and this, this was much worse.
Your face was buried in your hands as the person softly closed the door to the bathroom. You didn't even register him softly moving you to sit on the toilet seat in the bathroom, kneeling down and removing your hands from your face.
You opened your eyes to see a man's face looking back at you, his features painted with worry and his body distanced enough away from you as to not upset you even more.
"Hey- hey. Its ok, what's wrong?" the boy asked, trying not to show how confused he was on how to deal with this situation. "Are you hurt?"
You shook your head quickly at his statement, your tears slowly coming to a halt as your vision became less blurry. You could now see his face more clearly. Fluffy dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, soft pink lips.
"Uh, um. Wait" He spoke, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the bathroom. He started frantically opening draws and cabinets, stopping when he found a box of tissues under the sink.
"Here" you looked between him and the box he was handing you before taking it in your hands, your fingers brushing past each other momentarily.
"Thank you, i-i promise I'm not this much of a mess all the time." You replied, earning a soft smile from the man. "It's ok, it happens to the best of us. Have you taken anything, or just drunk?" He asked delicately.
Rafe didn't understand what he was feeling at this moment. Because he'd never felt it before.
Sure he could be an asshole sometimes, He was rude and got into fights on occasion, and he had been known to make girls complete the walk of shame out of his room involuntarily after a big night out, but that didn't mean he would ever leave a clearly intoxicated girl alone at a frat party.
But this, this was different. He had to know what was wrong with you, and he had to fix it. Sure you were a mystery to him and only met you seconds ago, but he wasn't leaving until he knew you were safe and sound... and had given him your name.
"I don't drink- or, at least I didn't. This boy gave me something, it tasted weird. Then I got all dizzy and now- now I can't stop crying" You rambled, sighing softly and looking into his eyes.
He gazed back at you, running his tongue around his teeth before seemingly snapping out of the trance he was in. "Did you know the guy?" He huffed, obviously agitated with your reply as he ran his fingers through his hair.
You shook your head softly, a wave of sadness running through you because you couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Tears started running down your face again suddenly as you kept repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over again.
He lifted his thumb up to your cheek, softly brushing the tears away. "Hey it's okay, Don't worry. I'll keep you safe"
He didn't understand the feelings he was feeling, He had never craved to protect someone so much, He had never been this gentle in his whole life.
"What's your name?" he asked, distracting you to hopefully stop the flow of tears streaming down your face. He felt like if you didn't stop crying in the next minute, he was going to lose it.
You answered your name to him, earning a soft smile. "I'm Rafe, it's nice to meet you." He finished the sentence with your name, sending shivers down your spine.
"Liv" You gasped, making his head tilt in confusion before you shot up from your seat. "Wow, ma. Slow down, what do you mean?" Rafe replied, holding your hips to stop you from completely falling over. You sat back down quickly in defeat, your eyes wide with panic.
"Liv, I-I came here with my friend Liv. I'm gonna scare her. I need to find her." You gasped, your voice trembling as you spoke. "It's ok, We'll find her. Don't worry, it's ok." He repeated, desperate for your face to get back to your normal expression, aka, not struck with terror.
It was obvious to Rafe through the glaze cast over your eyes, the shaking from your hands and the drooping of your eyelids that someone had slipped something into your drink.
He had hosted enough parties at his fraternity to know what insecure, probably small dicked boys, not men, can do to women. And it revolted him.
"R-rafe. I'm gonna go to sleep now" You whispered, your body finally giving out before you could stop it, his arms quickly coming up to stabilize you before you toppled over.
He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, pulling your body into his arms as you didn't even stir. He was scared. So scared.
He didn't know what you were given, how much you were given, what would happen after you woke up, if you even woke up at all.
He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, unlocking the door and locking it behind him again. His room was the only one with a lock in the whole house, because he was damned if he was going to walk in on random strangers having drunk sex on his bed.
He rested you softly on his bed, making sure your head was comfortably on his pillow and resting a blanket over your body after taking your heels off.
He looked at your sleeping form, your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks, your hair falling softly over your shoulders and your chest rising and falling with your breaths.
He looked at you one last time before leaving his room, ignoring every person greeting him as he made a beeline straight for the living room.
He scanned over the large crowd in the house, numerous people dancing, some making out, his frat brothers doing keg stands, and one very panicked girl going up to every stranger she sees.
Rafe took no time before walking straight to the girl in the middle of the dance floor, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns immediately to face Rafe, her face struck with confusion.
"Are you Liv?" Rafe asks, earning a confused nod from the girl in front of him” I am! Have you seen my best friend anywhere? She's about yay height, really pretty, heart of gold, she kinda looks like that baby deer from that Disney movie, she's wearing this white dress and-"
Rafe stops her ramble with a quick nod causing her eyes to widen. "What? Where is she?"
"In my bed" Rafe replied, remembering he wasn't all that good with small talk. "What? What the fuck do you mean, in your bed? What did you do? I swear to god-"
"Ok, calm down. Someone gave her something. I found her in the bathroom sobbing before she passed out. I put her in my bed then came down here, end of story" He replied, starting to get slightly agitated.
The girl he now knows to be Liv quickly walks off, heading straight for upstairs where the bedrooms are. Rafe rolls his eyes before following swiftly behind her, though he's glad that there's someone out there other than him trying to protect his newfound soft spot.
Liv halts at all the bedrooms, looking expectantly at Rafe before he walks in front of her and opens his door. Liv immediately rushes to you, still passed out on Rafe's bed.
She sits next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Of course, on the first party she goes to, some sick fuck roofies her and she ends up in Rafe Cameron's bed" Liv speaks, not taking her eyes off you.
"How do you know my name?" Rafe asks, not even bothering to look at the person he's talking to as he focuses on your chest rising and falling. "Ha, everyone knows who you are Rafe. And if I find out you had anything to do with her getting hurt, I'm gonna chop your dick off and feed it to you and make sure everyone on campus knows it"
It would be a lie to say Rafe wasn't slightly amused by your best friend's words, holding back his smile and keeping his face stern. "I would never do that shit. Especially not to her" Liv's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the last bit of his sentence.
She knows for a fact that you did not know Rafe Cameron before this night, let alone any frat boys. Liv could cry at the sight of your passed-out form, taking full blame and responsibility for the fact that you got hurt when she was meant to protect you.
She pulled her phone out from her purse, about to call an Uber back to the dorms for both of you. "No, I'll drive you" He stated, not leaving room for an argument
Liv nodded slowly before pulling the blanket off you, your body involuntarily starting to shiver from the cold air.
Rafe walked over to his closet, grabbing his warmest hoodie. Liv looked up at him as he raised your body softly, placing the hoodie over your head and softly lifting you up into his arms.
Rafe walked with Liv down to the road outside the fraternity house, receiving hundreds of stares from people in the crowd. But he didn't care, all he cared about was you.
He let Liv open the door to the backseat of his truck, allowing him to place you softly inside before Liv climbed in next to you, placing your head on her lap.
The ride was completely silent, barring Liv's directions to the dormitories, but she didn't miss the way he was constantly looking in the rearview mirror at you.
It didn't take long before Liv was leading the way to your dorm, Rafe trailing slowly behind with you in his arms.
She flicked the light on in your dorm, Rafe quickly knowing which bed was yours from the multiple stuffies and pink blankets. He lifted the covers before placing your head on the pillow once more, knowing Liv was going to get you changed before she slept.
"Thank you, Rafe, for looking out for her when I didn't" Liv said as Rafe walked to your door, nodding curtly in repose to her statement.
He gave you one last look before he walked out of your door, watching as Liv was about to shut the door on him after saying goodbye. Panicked he placed his foot in front of the door before it shut, forcing it open.
"C-can I get her number, please?"
2K notes · View notes
midnightwriter21 · 2 years ago
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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends
characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai
AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry
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TENGEN
- this isn’t just a little fling
-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf
-he wants to be your HUSBAND
- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP
- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband
- ur getting 3 wives too
- it’s a package deal
- overprotective!!
- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission
- my heart was bursting
- carries u around
- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor
- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are
- he’s bigger and taller
-he's big all over if ykyk
-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby
- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute
- he’s absolutely mocking you
-which brings me to…
- this man teases the HELL out of you
- but with love
- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives
- in his mind ur alrdy married
- and he is NOT letting you go
- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it
- 4 lifer fr
- id marry him
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SANEMI
-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
-he’d tear it UP
-and i’d let him
- loves you so much
- doesn’t show it in public
- but in private?
- clingy as fUck
- he’s like ur shadow fr
- will follow u around all day
- hands on ur waist
- arm around ur shoulder
- holding ur hand
- he will not let go of u when ur alone
- in public he’s a lot less touchy
- but he will still stand near you
- jealous af
- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar
- you belong to him
- makes sure they know it
- makes sure you know it
-hickey MASTER
-no i will not elaborate
- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges
- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you
- but he does try
- he’s got a reputation to keep up!
-gotta act tough
-no weaknesses!!
- except for u
-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it
- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)
-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone
-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder
-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place
-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir
-claims ur super light no matter ur size
-hence the nickname "feather"
-i love him
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GIYUU
-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up
-speaking of chokeholds... ;)
-put me in one pls sir
-anyways
-awkward as fuck
-but he tries for u
-terrible with physical affection
-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved
-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch
-and make sure he's not uncomfortable
-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you
-takes a very long time to say "i love you"
-but can u blame him??
-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(
-because of this he's veryyyy protective
-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is
-is hurt or killed
-100% will die for u without a second thought
-not really a nickname type of guy
-remember he's awkward as hell
-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name
-and even that is only when y'all are alone
-but still
-even if he doesn't always show it
-you are always on his mind
-he's on a mission and walking through a market?
-he's buying you a hairpin or som
-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?
-"i wonder if she'll like these"
-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET
-ugh soft for bf giyuu
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RENGOKU
-sunshine boy!!!
- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend
-all smiles all the time
-follows u around like lost puppy
-shows off for u
-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao
-thats him
-"did you see what i just did?!"
-if u didnt...
-he's doing it again
-wants to impress you so bad
-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence
-service bf!!
-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?
-he's on it
-you need help styling ur hair?
-welcome to rengoku's hair salon
-will attempt to dress you in the morning
-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head
-zipping up ur pants
-and tying ur shoes
-brags about you to anyone and everyone
-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow
-compliments compliments compliments!!!
-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it
-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart
-constantly confessing his love
-also lowkey speaks poetry for u
-some shit like
-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"
-ugh he's the sweetest baby
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MUICHIRO
-my airheaded angel baby
-i love him sm stop
-baby boy has a terrible memory
-that we alrdy knew
-but!
-he tries so hard for you
-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you
-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over
-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time
-can not and will not remember anniversaries
-unless they're written in that journal
-will pick u flowers
-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that
-but it's the thought that counts
-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts
-you wanna go on a date?
-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together
-maybe a picnic if ur lucky
-no nicknames from him
-he calls you by your name
-its all he can remember
-he's the cutest
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OBANAI
-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public
-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you
-at least not to the other hashira
-might not be glued to your side
-but he's got eyes on u at all times
-and someone is talking about you?
-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth
-he's tuned in
-and they better not say anything negative either
-mans turns murderous
-they will wake up to a snake in their bed
-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life
-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around
-cause he's got everything
-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of
-protective but not pushy
-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself
-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you
-you're not drinking enough water?
-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all
-haven't had lunch yet?
-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.
-on a mission with him?
-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything
-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either
-he's got ur back
-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames
-nothing too crazy
-especially in public
-mostly uses ur first name
-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while
-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"
-acts like a hard ass
-but he's soft for u
15K notes · View notes
witchesverse · 2 months ago
Text
house wife
pairing: dark!50swanda x fem!reader
summary: after wanda meets you in her hex, she decides that she wants to keep you as her own.
content: noncon, heavy manipulation, degradation, mention of murder, crying, cheating (kinda??), nipple touching, fingering, clit rubbing, spitting, face slapping, mention of training.
a/n: half way writing this i realised wanda didn't have her children in the 50s so just pretend she did so i don't need to rewrite it :(
masterlist
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The moment she met you, she was hooked. Everything about you drew her in. It made her heart flutter at how you genuinely cared for others and that beautiful, shy smile that would spread across your face at one of her compliments.
And it made her stomach flip at how utterly perfect your body was.
When she created the hex, it was out of grief and the yearning for a family with her dead husband, Vision. But once she met you, that idea was disregarded, and then her children and Vision disappeared.
She didn't care for her family's disappearance. She was too focused on the fact that she could finally have you.
The real you.
"Oh, hiya, Wanda!" Your cheerful voice brought a smile to her face.
You stood at your front door, holding a cookie tray with an apron wrapped around your waist. Wanda thought you looked adorable.
"Oh no, I hope I'm not intruding on your baking time, sweetheart." Wanda's voice was laced with faux concern.
You immediately shook your head, seemingly baffled by the question Wanda had asked. "Of course not! Your presence would never intrude on my time. In fact, why don't you come and sit whilst I finish baking?"
"Are you sure? I don't-"
"I insist."
Wanda bit her tongue, holding herself back from snapping at you and spanking your arse over her thigh. How dare you cut her off.
You stepped back, letting Wanda enter your house.
Your house was big for one person; it makes Wanda think someone else lived here before the hex.
"Make yourself at home!" You gestured to the living room, "I'll just pop these in the oven."
Instead of sitting on the couch, Wanda followed you to the kitchen and watched you. She held back a moan at how perfect your arse looked as you bent down to place the cookies in the oven.
She wanted to be slow and give you time to warm up to her, but you looked too perfect to resist, especially with how your dress revealed your panties to her.
"Come here," Wanda spoke with such authority that you immediately obeyed.
She softly grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at her. She smiled at how easily you complied.
Such a dumb, pretty thing.
She dragged her thumb over your lips and your mouth dropped slightly. Her chuckle brought you back into 'reality'.
"Um," You cleared your throat and stepped away from her. Wanda hid the anger in her face.
She stepped forward, sandwiching you between herself and the kitchen counter. She placed one hand on the counter and the other on your temple.
She lifted the spell.
Your eyes widened and your sweet, soft look was replaced by pure fear. You tried to run, but Wanda prepared for that and her magic kept you in place.
"Y-You did this," You whimpered "Please, let me go. I'll do anything, please."
Wanda smiled innocently, "Anything?"
"My wife-" You gasped, "Is she here? God, I haven't seen her in weeks. Please let her go if she's here. I promise-"
Wanda covered your mouth with her hand. She didn't want to hear about your wife. She wished she trapped your stupid wife in her hex so she could kill her.
"If you comply, I promise I won't hurt her." It was a simple lie, but you believed it.
She used her thumb to wipe your tears away. She couldn't have you crying already.
"Strip for me."
She watched with an amused grin as your brain struggled to process her request, but when it did, heat rose to your cheeks. With shaky hands, you removed your clothing until you were bare and on complete display for Wanda.
Wanda's fingers brushed against your erect nipples and her other hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you onto the counter. You whimpered as your back hit the cold counter.
"So perfect," Wanda muttered, more to herself than you.
Her fingers dragged down your stomach, goosebumps rising, until she stopped at your cunt. She lightly circled your clit and you whimpered in response.
Then, her fingers went lower. She tsked, shaking her head and brought her fingers up. They were drenched.
“I’m not…” You swallowed, unable to finish your sentence.
“You’re not what? Enjoying this?” Wanda rolled her eyes “Don’t give me that bullshit because you’re drenched.”
You looked away, tears filling your eyes. You were embarrassed.
Wanda sighed. She had a lot of behavioural corrections to do.
She grabbed your chin, turning you to face her. You watched with teary eyes as Wanda spat on your cunt, spreading her spit with her fingers.
One of her fingers slowly entered, curling upwards and pulling out. She kept a steady pace, figuring out what made you scream. It was understimulating.
"More,"
Your demand was whispered and weak, but Wanda heard it.
"Say it with manners."
"Please, can I have more?"
You nearly cried. The guilt of begging another woman to fuck you ate you up, yet you couldn't stop yourself.
Wanda rewarded you with another finger, stretching you out. Your hips desperately rutted into her palm, chasing the pleasure. It was brain-numbing how good her fingers felt.
She slipped a third finger inside. It was embarrassing how drenched you were. You could feel your slick dripping down your ass and were positive it was dripping down Wanda's arm.
Your orgasm hit you suddenly. Your back was arched and your toes curled. Your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth dropped open, letting out the sluttiest moan.
Wanda captured your lips with hers, muffling your moans.
"Can't have people knowing what a whore you are." She mumbled.
You shuddered, wanting to say something snarky in reply but words fell dumb on your tongue.
"My wife-"
Wanda pulled back, anger evident on her face and her palm met your cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your heart drop and tears fill your eyes.
"So much training is needed."
Her fingers touched your temples and you were put under her spell again. She stepped back and sucked her fingers clean, watching your reaction intently.
You cleared your throat and looked around, confusion written on your face. You ran your hands over your naked body and jumped when you noticed Wanda standing there.
"My goodness!" You picked your clothes off the floor, shielding yourself from Wanda. "Sorry, Wanda. I-I don't remember getting naked but give me three seconds to tidy myself up and I'll meet you in the living room!"
Wanda grinned as she watched you walk away.
Brainless little plaything.
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talaok · 4 months ago
Text
Win Again
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x sex worker f!reader
Summary: Marcus has won yet another match, so to reward him, his master has granted him another hour with you.
warning: smut| unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), a whole lot of manhandling, he like uses your body idk how to explain it, multiple orgasms, and once again unnecessary feelings cause im not able to write something where they just fuck for some reason
a/n: i know im two days late but PLEASE read this still. (also) basic things for this guy that i've decided are canon: 1)he has a monster cock, like actually scarily big, 2) he's real fucking strong (hulk typa shit), 3) he's not a big talker (but he is a grunter). I need this man to fuck me more than i need my next breath (real), also i did so much research for this fic and you cant even fucking tell
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It wasn't often that you didn't dread going to the barracks.
These were strong, ferocious, and dangerous men, and you were but a meek lamb in comparison.
But today was different, today you were seeing him, him who fit the previous description to a tee, and yet was so different from any man you had ever offered your services to.
And perhaps it was because it never felt like you were ever offering anything, ever since that first night, you had never given anything you hadn't wanted to.
The guards stopped as you arrived at his room and you felt a wave of excitement crawl up your spine the moment they opened the door, waiting for you to enter.
The armored men stepped aside to let you pass, the cobblestones on the ground sounding against your sandals as you made your way inside, looking back at the door just in time to see it being shut close.
It was his breathing you heard first, his heavy breathing coming from where you knew his bed sat on the room's left, and seconds after, the creaks of the wood as he stood up, his feet stalking your way.
You turned to him then, a smile almost making it to your lips as you saw him alive before you once again, granting yourself a second to relish in the fact he still breathed, he was still here.
"You've won again" you spoke softly, your hands slowly finding the string holding your dress together.
He didn't respond. The window behind him caused the moon's soft glow to fall on the stone floor, but not on his beautiful face, that, you had to watch closely to inspect.
A newer cut right above his left eyebrow had appeared, and his right arm was bandaged almost completely, but otherwise, he looked fine.
His eyes remained on yours until you'd undone the dress, until it fell at your feet- then, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he took you in, and took his turn inspecting every inch of your bare figure.
"How do you want m-"
You didn't have time to finish your sentence that he'd picked you up, effortlessly pulling your body up until your legs slung over his shoulders and his face was buried in your cunt.
He hadn't even given you a second to realize what was happening that his tongue was already lapping between your folds, desperately drinking everything your body gave him.
"Oh my g-" you threw your head back, your skull finding the wall behind you being the only reason you realized he'd moved, and you were now caged between him and stone as you forgot how to speak.
The moans you had faked so many times for so many clients were nothing like the ones your mouth was spilling now, these were higher, coarser, feral, and the way you were gripping his hair... there was no way that didn't hurt.
"Y-You only" a whine interrupted your words when you felt his tongue plunge into your hole, when he started fucking you with it just like he would with his cock "You only h-have me for an hour" you breathed, your thighs squeezing tighter around him contradicting the words you were about to speak "d-don't you want me to p-please you?"
His grip on your ass only tightened and his mouth halfheartedly parted from your core to answer you.
"You are"
And just like that, he'd gone back to work. The moment his mouth closed around your clit you knew you were done for, you knew there was no point in fighting what was inevitably going to come, and so you shut your eyes, as he brought you to heaven.
Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nouse, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.
"F-fuck- general I-" The fist you had wrapped around his hair tightened as every muscle in your belly did the same "Oh!"
Somehow, through all the chaos, while you were coming all over his face, while your moans reached levels never reached before, the only thing you could feel or hear, besides pure ecstasy of course, were his groans, his groans as he drank up every drop of your juices, as if your orgasm was bringing his as much pleasure as it was to you.
You barely had time to open your eyes that his strong, big hands and even stronger, bigger arms had pulled you down until your legs hugged his waist instead.
You really did weigh nothing for him, and if that wasn't enough to prove it, the next minutes definitely would.
Your heavy breathing was fanning over his mouth as he freed his cock from his pants, but while you were expecting him to kiss you, having been blatantly staring at your mouth since he had any way of seeing it, every thought in your brain turned to dust when with one hard fucking thrust, he drove his cock into you- or the first few inches at least.
You couldn't talk, you could do nothing but throw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of it, and let him take whatever he wanted to take.
"I'm not a general anymore," he said with another thrust, stretching you out even further, even deeper.
You wanted to laugh at his words. Now? Now he was feeling the need to correct you? When you could barely breathe, let alone think?
But he didn't look interested in hearing a response from you, not when he grabbed your waist, and definitely not when he started moving you up and down on his shaft with just the sheer force of his muscles.
The moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.
"Oh my god" you whimpered, feeling tears prick your eyes as your toes curled at the feeling.
You could feel him everywhere, everywhere.
But he didn't pause, he wasn't one to take his time, and perhaps that was because he didn't have much; he resumed his movements again, retracting his hips while he pulled you up his cock, and slamming into you while pushing you down on it, leaving you breathless, a simple doll at his mercy.
His groans and growls were deep and filled with lust, just like the way he bent down to take your left tit into his mouth, just like the way he was fucking you, deep and hard, and God- God it was happening again.
"s-shit" you squeaked, your walls squeezing around him as you bit your lip, so fucked out you could barely remember your name or anything at all that wasn't how good he was making you feel.
"O-Oh my fuck-"
The arms you had intertwined behind his neck tightened with every spasm of your hole, with every flutter of your belly, until you'd come once more.
You opened your eyes, letting them trail downwards, to where his lips parted to suck in ragged breaths, begging him for a kiss.
"again" he said instead, and your eyes widened as you felt him starting to move anew
"I-I can't"
He looked at you now, really looked at you, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and then- then he kissed you. Marcus Acacius kissed you the same way he'd been fucking you for the last hour: like an animal.
It was a mess of teeth and tongues and yet it felt like the best thing on earth, better than wine, better than life, even better than the sex- it was perfect.
"again" he ordered once more, and what could you do, if not comply?
So he started again, he started fucking you again, even more ferociously than the previous time, even if you didn't think it possible.
The way his skin slapped with yours was drowned by both your desperate sounds, your legs started to tremble, beginning to fall from his hips as he moved you up and down his cock like it were nothing, and you- you didn't even know where you were anymore.
"please" you begged, a single tear of pleasure, of overstimulation falling to your cheek as he kissed you again, muting all your cries as he drove himself into you like a madman, like he was possessed.
"Time's up"
Two knocks sounded from the other side of the wall together with the warning, and you thanked Marcus for having rendered you such a mess because otherwise, that would have reminded you of how little time you two ever had, and how miserable everything really was.
His movements sped up at the notice, his dick plunging into you over and over and over until finally, it was happening again.
"give it to me" he said, and you did exactly as he asked- you gave it all to him, screaming and crying you let him have all you had to offer, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.
He came loudly just after you, groaning deeply as he filled you up to the very brim.
Out of all the words you could have said to him then, all the things you wanted to tell him at that moment, you chose none, because none would have said anything he didn't already know from the look in your eyes, from the same exact spark in your irises that ignited his own.
So he helped you to the ground until you stood on shaky legs, walked to where your dress lay on the floor, and dressed yourself again, his eyes never leaving you.
The door opened just as you were done, and you turned to him one last time again, a smile pulling at your lips.
"Win again for me, general"
He looked at you too for one last time again, as he thought about how you didn't know, you didn't know how big of a role you played in his victories, how many times he could only think of the taste of you, smell of you, feel and voice of you as he took his opponent's life, as he fought for another hour with you, another second.
"I will" he promised
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luveline · 2 months ago
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hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!
thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k
You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?
You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 
“You okay?” 
You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 
Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 
“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 
“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 
You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 
You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 
Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 
“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.
“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 
Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 
“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 
You close your eyes. 
“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 
“Your hand is so big…” 
“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 
“Prove it.” 
He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 
Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 
“You’re teasing me,” you say. 
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 
“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 
“You look startled,” he murmurs. 
“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 
“I have?” 
“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 
“At what?” 
“Flirting.” 
“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 
“Is there something wrong with me?” 
“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 
“I’ve hit my head.” 
“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 
“You’ve hit your head.” 
He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 
“You’re kissing me.” 
He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 
“Would you want to do it again?” 
Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 
Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 
“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 
“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 
He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 
“You really love me?” 
He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 
“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  
“Well, is there much else to remember?” 
You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 
“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections
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pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader
summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.
tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort
(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)
wc: ~3k
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katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.
she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.
the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.
who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.
he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.
well, only because he hired you.
it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.
he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.
"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"
you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.
"yeah, just katsuki's fine."
"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"
as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.
not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.
"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"
"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."
"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"
"uh.. tomorrow?"
"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."
he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.
the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.
he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"
he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."
he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"
he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."
you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.
the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.
when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"
"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"
"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."
you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.
he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."
he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.
"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."
you nodded along making mental notes of everything.
"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."
"okay, i think i got it."
he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."
you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"
"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."
"bye katsuki."
the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.
you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."
you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.
"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.
she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"
"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.
you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.
"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"
"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."
you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?
yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.
kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.
lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.
kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."
you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.
you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.
you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."
the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.
the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"
he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."
"ah, that's cool!"
he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.
"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."
he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."
"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."
he flushed slightly, "yeah?"
"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."
"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"
he smiled too. "yes,
yes you did."
days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.
everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.
"mama."
you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.
the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.
a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?
except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"
"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."
"can you not curse in front of the kids?"
"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."
she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.
"yeah, stranger."
you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.
you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.
katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.
"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.
"huh? i don't know what you mean?"
he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"
"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"
"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."
"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"
"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."
"oh.."
"so she did come."
"yeah. she did."
"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..
that's why we all love you."
you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."
you reached out and held his hand.
"seriously, thank you."
he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.
you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.
he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'
that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.
the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.
katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.
he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.
she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--
"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.
"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.
"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"
"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.
"so.. about our playdate?"
he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.
he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.
he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.
he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.
he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.
one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.
he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.
he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.
so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.
you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.
"kioko, kei?"
"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.
"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"
"hes waiting for you! come come!"
"come!"
they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.
"katsuki?"
"[name]."
"what's all of this for?"
"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.
"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.
and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.
so,"
he got down on one knee infront of you.
"will you marry me?"
the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.
everything was just so sweet from then on.
kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.
your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.
your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.
when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,
you were pregnant.
whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..
it had both colors.
you we're having twins.
as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.
laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.
but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,
and you'd always be thankful for it.
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tag: @kovu-bunnbunn
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miupow · 2 months ago
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★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !
what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?
꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming
a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]
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𝔅ANGCHAN
chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.
𝔐INHO
minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.
𝓒HANGBIN
changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”
𝓗YUNJIN
the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.
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