#on the one hand i think she made a way bigger deal out of it than it was. and she assumed and read into a lot of things

[paxaz535]

what we already knew - paige x reader

same thing from last one lol

smut, partying, grinding, pinning

part two of two

————————

and just like that, her mouth was on yours—firm, slow, and familiar in the most addictive way. your fingers slid into her hair, pulling her closer as her hands gripped your waist, anchoring you like she’d been waiting all day for this. your body relaxed into hers, the teasing gone now—replaced with something heavier. want. comfort. craving. you were supposed to be getting ready for a party. but right now, all you could think about was the way she tasted, the way her tongue moved with yours, and how her hands didn’t seem in any rush to let go.

you started to rock your hips slowly, testing the waters, catching a rhythm that felt too good not to lean into.

paige’s grip on your waist tightened instantly, her fingers digging into your sides like she was trying to ground herself.

you felt her react—subtle at first, a sharp inhale through her nose, her jaw clenching slightly—then she started to meet you halfway, her own hips moving in sync with yours. the kisses turned messier. deeper.

her hands slid up your back, then back down to your hips, guiding you without even thinking. you gasped into her mouth when she bucked up just right, the pressure between you growing hotter, heavier.

you weren’t even thinking about the party anymore.

just her.

her lips.

her hands.

the way her breath hitched every time you rolled your hips a little harder.

“fuck,” she whispered against your mouth, forehead resting against yours. “what are you doing to me?” you smiled, breathless. “you started it.”

she brought you in again, the two of you kissing each other hard. you suddenly remembered you actually had to get ready, so you pulled away just enough to catch your breath. paige chased after your lips eagerly, planting a few quick pecks that made your skin tingle. “okay, seriously,” you said with a grin, trying to sound firm but failing. “let’s go.” she smirked, eyes sparkling. “finally. but you owe me more of that later.”

you laughed, standing up and brushing your hands over your jeans. “deal. now help me figure out what to wear before we’re late.” paige hopped up beside you, the easy comfort between you both settling back in—even with the lingering heat of what just happened.

you decided on some jorts—simple, cute, and they hugged your waist just right. you paired them with a pink asymmetrical split-hem lace tube top that clung perfectly to your chest. it was snug, especially since your boobs were on the bigger side, but it gave you that look. the right kind of attention. for shoes, you threw on your pink and white nikes, then gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror.

simple. cute. effective.

you weren’t trying too hard, but you weren’t about to fade into the background either.

you had every intention of getting drunk, dancing, maybe catching a lil something—or throwing a lil something. both, if the vibe was right.

paige had dipped out about twenty minutes ago to her dorm to change, since all her stuff was there.

you spotted the dent in the couch where she’d been sitting not long ago, lips still a little tingly from the way she kissed you before leaving.

your phone buzzed.

paige

on my way back 😏

you better be ready

you smirked, sending a quick reply.

cheeky

i was born ready. hurry up before i get too drunk without you.

-

the uber ride over was full of bass and buzzed energy. you and paige sat in the back, legs touching, the tension from earlier still simmering just beneath the surface—but tonight was about fun. chaos. a little recklessness.

the party was already live by the time you got there.

music thumping from the inside out. people crowding the front lawn. red cups in hand. porch lights flickering on and off. someone was already yelling about a speaker dying and another person screaming “fix the aux!” you stepped out of the car first, eyes scanning the crowd. paige followed close behind, her hand grazing the small of your back before dropping away.

“definitely lit,” she said over the music.

you smirked. “ice wasn’t lying.”

a familiar voice yelled out from the porch. “hey!” it was nika, already holding two cups, her braids pulled back in a ponytail and her hoodie tied around her waist. she ran over and handed one to paige, then gave you yours with a grin.

“bout time y’all showed up. we pre-gamed without you.”

“rude,” you said, sipping your drink anyway. it was strong. whoever made it didn’t believe in mixers.

“ain’t nobody tell y’all to take forever,” kk added as she popped out the front door, her curls bouncing and her energy loud as hell. “come inside! people dancing, games going, and some girl just started twerking on the kitchen table.”

paige looked at you with a brow raised. “sounds like your scene.”

you laughed, bumping her with your hip. “bet.”

you followed the music inside, the heat of bodies already heavy in the air. the lights were low, some cheap LED strips trying to hold the mood together while the living room shook with bass. your hips already started swaying.

you hadn’t even finished your first drink yet.

and you knew, tonight was gonna be fun.

you spotted azzi and amari near the corner of the living room, posted up by the speakers like they owned the place. you immediately made your way over, hips still swaying to the beat, the rest of your crew trailing behind you.

“hi, pretties!” you grinned.

azzi pulled you into a tight hug first, her head resting lightly on your shoulder. “you look so good,” she mumbled, voice barely above the music. amari followed up with a squeal as she hugged you, pulling back dramatically to sniff the air. “girl—girl—you smell like you tryna get ate out.”

you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your drink as you leaned into azzi for support.

“maybe i am,” you teased, sipping your cup like you didn’t just drop a bomb. from the corner of your eye, you caught paige and nika dap each other up at that exact moment, both of them grinning like they heard every word. it almost made you choke on your drink from holding back another laugh.

“by who is important,” a voice cut in smoothly. you turned your head and saw ice walking up, solo cup in hand, eyes low like she was already halfway faded. her grin was too slick to be innocent. you raised your brows. “you volunteering?” she smirked. “i mean… i’m just saying. the perfume’s loud, the outfit’s louder…”

“and your eyes even louder,” amari muttered, sipping her drink.

everyone laughed.

“i’m just admiring,” ice said with a shrug, then winked at you before slipping off into the crowd.

you turned back to azzi and amari with a grin. “this party’s already doing too much.”

“and it just started,” azzi said with a knowing smile. then freak hoe started blasting through the speakers and amari let out another squeal, grabbing both you and azzi by the wrists.

“nah, come on!” she yelled, dragging y’all straight to the middle of the floor like she owned it. you were laughing, trying not to spill what was left of your drink. “imma throw this money like a free throw!” you sang loud as hell, right with the lyrics. the beat dropped—and amari immediately started throwing it. no hesitation.

right on you and azzi.

you both hollered, hands flying to your knees, catching it like it was your full-time job. hyping her up like she was performing on tour.

people were everywhere. randoms were twerking on the tables, chairs, even on the couch—one girl had a whole split going. it felt like a juke party straight outta 2014. then the rest of the crew came circling around, hooting and hyping, phones out and drinks in hand, all locked in on amari.

“bounce that ass!” azzi shouted, smacking it like she meant it.

amari went crazy, hair flying, knees bending, moving like she had something to prove. and from the way the crowd reacted, she damn near did. you couldn’t stop smiling.

sweaty, tipsy, music vibrating through your chest—this was exactly the kind of night you needed.

she got up, huffing out a breath like she just ran a marathon. “your turn.” you looked at her with wide eyes, “me? i don’t even think i’m drunk enough—oh, lemme stop. aight, bet.” just then, from behind you, you caught nika’s voice low and playful as she spoke to paige. “oh shit, twin. get behind that.” you turned your head just in time to see paige smirking, already stepping closer, eyes locked on you like she was ready to steal the show.

the energy shifted — your heart sped up, but the music didn’t stop.

you smiled, ready to give it your all.

you locked eyes with paige, a sly grin spreading across your face. the beat dropped low and heavy, and you didn’t hesitate.

you turned around, pressing your back against her chest, feeling her warmth instantly. your hands found her hips as you started to bounce, throwing your ass with deliberate, slow rhythm right into her.

paige’s breath hitched, her hands tightening on your waist, steadying you as your body moved in sync with the music—and her. “damn, bestie,” she murmured low, voice thick with surprise and something else.

you smirked over your shoulder, “what, you didn’t want me to show out?”

her grin was mischievous, eyes shining. “keep going.”

the circle around you both faded as you owned the moment, throwing ass like it was a performance made just for her—hot, teasing, impossible to ignore.

paige’s hands slid lower, pulling you even closer as the bass rumbled through your bodies.

this was your dance. your game. and paige was right there, loving every second. paige’s mind was everywhere at once, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts she knew she shouldn’t be having—but couldn’t shake. every bounce, every grind you threw against her sent a rush straight through her, heat pooling low and spreading fast.

your energy was wild, untamed—completely wrapped up in the music and the moment. and paige? she was helplessly caught in it, feeling the world blur around you two like it was just you in the room.

people around you faded into background noise, the chaos turning distant as your hips moved with purpose, teasing and tempting. paige’s breath hitched, her hands gripping your waist tighter, trying to keep steady even though her mind was racing.

“shit,” she muttered under her breath, voice rough.

she wasn’t ready to admit just how much she was loving this—how much you had her completely undone. and you? you caught that flicker in her eyes and smiled, knowing exactly the kind of power you held over her right now. the party was loud, the music thumping—but for a moment, all paige could focus on was you.

and that was enough.

paige’s hands slid a little lower, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hips, her touch steady but electrifying. you felt every inch of her skin, every breath she tried to catch, like a live wire buzzing under your fingertips.

the heat between you thickened, wrapping around you both like a private rhythm only you could hear. paige leaned down just enough so her lips brushed the shell of your ear, voice low and husky. “you’re killing me right now.” you smirked, pressing back harder, your body moving in time with the bass and with her.

“that’s the point,” you whispered.

around you, the party blurred even more—laughs, shouts, music—all distant echoes. here, in this bubble of heat and movement, it was just you and paige, tangled together in the middle of the madness.

and neither of you wanted it any other way.

the song changed to more of a slower song but still twerkable. you started grinding on paige now, pressing your ass hard against her front. she rolled her eyes, biting her lower lip as she watched your body.

paige’s eyes never left you, dark and wide with a mix of surprise and something deeper—curiosity, maybe even a little awe. “fuck, girl,” she muttered, voice low, like she was trying to keep herself from getting too caught up.

you smiled softly, a small chuckle escaping.

last time you twerked on paige was three years ago. it was a different night—tipsy and careless, the music already pulsing, the lights in your room shifting just right, like fate had aligned it for that exact moment.

it wasn’t planned. it just… happened.

and now, here you were again—caught between memory and the heat of right now, the pull between best friends and something that felt like it was ready to break through.

paige’s breath hitched, her gaze flickering away for a second before snapping back, caught in the spell you were weaving. you caught that moment and smiled wider—this was far from over.

you leaned in, your breath warm against her ear as you whispered, “you wanna leave, p?” her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, eyes flickering up to meet yours—full of something raw and hopeful.

“please,” she breathed back, voice soft but steady.

your heart thudded in your chest as you tightened your arms around her neck, pulling her just a little closer. the noise of the party faded into background static, and in that moment, it was just you two—standing on the edge of everything that had been simmering between you for years.

you offered her a small, reassuring smile.

“let’s go.”

and without another word, you both slipped away into the night, ready to write your own story.

-

when you two finally made it back to your apartment, clothes started flying almost immediately. you barely had time to lock the door before paige was all over you—her movements unsteady but urgent, the alcohol on her breath more teasing than off-putting.

it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of drunk; it was that mischievous, peek-a-boo kind of vibe that made your pulse race. you didn’t mind at all. honestly, you were horny, drunk, and more than ready to fuck the hell out of paige bueckers.

paige’s hands were everywhere—pulling your shirt over your head, fingers tracing the curves she’d memorized but still couldn’t get enough of. her lips found your neck, pressing soft, hungry kisses that made your knees weaken.

you reached for the hem of her top, tugging it up just enough to reveal the bare skin you’d been craving. her breath hitched as your hands slid down her sides, the heat between you both growing faster than the alcohol buzz.

you could feel her heart pounding against your chest, matching your own wild rhythm.

“fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” she whispered, voice thick and desperate. you smiled against her skin, “good. ‘cause i’m just getting started.” there was no rush, no hesitation—just two bodies colliding in perfect, fiery sync. the night was yours.

you grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch, pushing her down gently—but with intent. she fell back with a quiet gasp, legs spreading without even thinking, like her body was already tuned to you. she looked up, waiting. expecting you to say something.

but you didn’t.

you just grabbed a hair tie from your wrist, twisting your hair up into a bun—and that was all the answer she needed. “fuck, baby,” she muttered, eyes glued to you, voice barely hanging onto its cool.

but before you went any further, you paused. your hands resting on her thighs, your breath steadying. her eyes flickered with concern, searching yours.

“on some serious shit,” you started, licking your lips, “if we do this… there’s no more of this ‘friend’ word.”

paige’s face shifted. the heat didn’t go away, but something softer moved into place—like clarity settling behind her eyes. she nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “i don’t wanna be just your friend anyway.”

you stared at her for a moment longer, needing to know she meant it. but paige didn’t waver. her gaze held yours like a promise, her jaw tight, lips parted just slightly like she wanted to say more but was too caught in the moment.

so you didn’t speak again.

you just climbed into her lap.

her hands met your waist instantly, sliding up your sides like she was scared you’d disappear. your lips met hers—slow, but heavy, like the tension had been dying to break free since forever.

her kiss said everything you didn’t:

i’ve wanted this.

i’m ready.

i’m yours.

you rolled your hips against her, hands threading through her hair, and she groaned into your mouth, gripping you tighter.

the ‘just friends’ phase?

dead and gone.

and neither of you were looking back.

paige pressed a soft kiss to your lips, barely pulling back before her voice dropped—low, rough, and filled with intent.

“lemme get you first, mama. please.”

her hips pushed up into you just enough to make her point clear—she wasn’t just saying it. she needed you to feel what she meant. that she was ready to worship you, to make you lose your mind right there in her lap.

you let out a soft moan, the pressure sending a spark straight through you, and rolled your eyes like you were trying to play it cool—but the heat in your gaze gave you away. your fingers slid along her jaw, tilting her face to really look at her.

“then stop begging,” you whispered, “and do something about it.” and with that, paige flipped the switch—fast hands, hungry mouth, and nothing left between you but want.

paige didn’t waste a second.

her hands gripped your thighs, standing with you still wrapped around her waist, and carried you like you weighed nothing. she made her way down the hall with purpose, lips back on your neck—kissing, sucking, teasing the skin just enough to leave a reminder.

your back hit your bedroom door, a breathy laugh slipping from your lips at how eager she was. she pulled back just enough to look at you again—eyes dark, lips swollen.

“i’ve been thinking about this for years,” she admitted, almost breathless. you stared at her, chest rising and falling, your hands on either side of her face. “then show me.” she opened the door behind you without even glancing, brought you inside, and laid you out on the bed like you were something sacred.

her hands moved with reverence, her lips slow and focused as they trailed from your collarbone to the top of your chest. she looked up at you one more time, waiting.

your breath hitched.

you nodded.

and that’s all she needed.

paige dipped lower, lips brushing over your skin with an aching slowness that had your fingers already curling in the sheets. her hands slid under your top, thumbs caressing your sides as she peeled the fabric off you, her eyes never leaving your body.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured, almost to herself.

her kisses moved down—past your chest, across your stomach—soft, open-mouthed, lingering like she didn’t want to miss a single spot. you couldn’t help the way your back arched, already feeling like you were unraveling and she hadn’t even really touched you yet.

she tugged your bottoms down, her hands moving slow but steady, her lips following right behind them like a promise.

once you were bare beneath her, she paused.

just stared for a second—eyes heavy, breathing a little shaky.

you were about to tease her, ask what she was waiting for, but then she looked up and said, voice low and thick:

“let me make you feel everything.”

and then she did.

she dipped her head without breaking eye contact, her hands firmly gripping your thighs and spreading them open like she’d done it a hundred times before. her mouth landed between your legs with purpose—soft at first, almost like she was tasting something she’d been craving for years.

you gasped, your hand shooting down to tangle in her hair.

“fuck, paige—”

she hummed against you, the vibration sending a shiver straight up your spine. she was slow at first, taking her time, letting her tongue explore you like she was memorizing every reaction, every twitch, every breathy moan you let out.

your hips rolled on instinct, chasing more, and she didn’t stop you—she welcomed it. her grip on your thighs tightened just slightly, guiding your rhythm against her tongue. “that’s it,” she murmured between licks, her voice barely audible but thick with praise. “just like that, baby.”

you could barely hold eye contact anymore, head falling back against the pillows, your breath coming out in shaky gasps. your stomach was tightening, your body heating up like fire under skin.

she knew.

and she didn’t slow down—not once.

you were already so close, and all you could think was how you’d never look at your best friend the same again.

your fingers curled tighter in her hair, a broken moan escaping your lips as your thighs instinctively tried to close around her. but paige wasn’t letting that happen—her hands pinned you open, mouth still working you over like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment.

“p-paige,” you stuttered, your voice shaky, ruined. “i—fuck, i’m gonna…” she pulled back just slightly, her lips glossy, eyes wild. “come for me,” she whispered, breath hot against you. “right on my tongue, baby. let me have it.”

and just like that—like she commanded it out of you—you fell apart. your body trembled under her, jaw slack as a gasp left you, pleasure crashing through you in waves. paige didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just eased you through every second of it, tongue soft, mouth open, taking all of you in.

when you finally exhaled, chest heaving, she pulled back slowly, her hands sliding up your body, steadying you. her lips brushed your ear as she climbed over you again.

“not just best friends anymore, huh?” you let out a breathless laugh, still trying to come down, your hand cupping her jaw as you smiled up at her.

“not even close.”

you laid there under her, skin still buzzing, breath uneven, mind swimming in everything that just happened. paige was quiet for a second, her hand smoothing up and down your side, grounding you.

“you okay?” she asked softly, her voice stripped of playfulness now—just sincere, steady.

you nodded, blinking slowly as your fingers brushed her cheek. “yeah,” you whispered. “more than okay.”

she smiled, small but full of something deep. something real.

“good,” she murmured, then kissed you again—slower this time, more patient, more us now than friends before.

you stayed like that for a while, tangled up, the world outside your apartment forgotten. when the air finally settled and your bodies started to cool, she curled next to you, her arm draped across your stomach, her lips brushing your shoulder.

“so what now?” she asked, voice low, vulnerable.

you turned your head to look at her. “now?”

you gave her a soft smile.

“now we stop pretending.”

she nodded once. “yeah… okay.”

and just like that, years of friendship, blurred lines, and what-ifs finally found their answer. paige was still catching her breath, her body half-draped over yours, skin warm and slick with the afterglow. her arm rested across your stomach, fingers drawing lazy circles as her breathing began to settle. she kissed your shoulder, soft and slow, and you felt her lips curve into a small smile. but you could feel it—she was holding something back. her muscles still slightly tense, her legs shifting like she couldn’t fully relax yet.

you turned your head and studied her face in the low light. “you thought i was just gonna let you be the only one doing work tonight?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing. paige blinked, looking at you like you’d just said the most unbelievable thing. you smirked, letting your fingers trail from her shoulder down her side, stopping just above her hip. “nah, baby. i wanna take care of you too.”

she opened her mouth like she was gonna say something cocky, but you kissed her before she could, slow and deep. and when you pulled back, her face had changed. her cocky half-grin softened, replaced with something needier—like you’d hit the switch she kept hidden from everyone else. you slid down her body slowly, your lips dragging along her skin as you went. her breath hitched when you kissed her stomach, and her hands instinctively found your hair.

“you sure?” she asked, voice low, almost unsure—like maybe she wasn’t used to someone putting her first. you looked up at her, eyes locked. “you just made me see stars, paige,” you whispered. “let me return the favor.” she swallowed hard and nodded, her legs parting for you as she sank into the mattress.

you took your time.

your hands gripped her thighs, fingers kneading into soft muscle as you kissed along the inside—slow, soft, deliberate. you could feel her tense under you, then relax, then tense again. every little reaction, every flick of her hips or sharp inhale was like a reward. you kissed higher, closer, until she gasped softly and her hips rolled up into you.

and then you tasted her.

“fuck,” she breathed out immediately, her head pressing back into the pillow. “oh my god.” you moaned against her, letting your tongue work in long, slow strokes—teasing, circling, dipping. your hands held her open, your fingers spreading her gently as you gave her every bit of attention she deserved. you wanted her to feel worshipped.

and she did.

her thighs trembled around your head, her voice coming out in broken gasps and curses. “baby… shit—wait, i’m gonna—” she didn’t even finish. her whole body tensed, back arching, her breath catching in her throat as the orgasm tore through her. you didn’t stop. not right away. you kept your mouth on her through the aftershocks, soothing her, slowing it down only when you felt her hands tug gently at your hair.

you kissed her thighs before crawling back up, her skin flushed, chest rising and falling. her eyes were glassy, dazed, and when they finally found yours, all she could do was smile and shake her head.

“that was…” she swallowed, then laughed breathlessly. “i don’t even have a word for that.”

you grinned, brushing her hair from her damp forehead. “you don’t need one.”

she pulled you down, her lips meeting yours again—slow, deep, and full of something real.

after a few moments, she mumbled against your mouth, “we really can’t call this friendship anymore.”

you chuckled, resting your forehead against hers.

“we left friendship in the living room.”

[spinnydino]

˖ ࣪⭑ caught in memories

summary: nat and her team are hanging out at the mall & its all calm until she she's someone that reminds her of her father.

cws: she/he little!nat, they/them big!brother van, negative self talk, nats home life & swearing

The mall on a Saturday in New Jersey was hell with a food court, but that was all it was, right?

Until Nat saw him. The same posture. Same movements. Same energy, radiating off this man who resembled her father in all the wrong ways. That same cold, careless weight in the way he stood. What the fuck.

Nat decided she wanted—no, needed—to run. She didn’t know where to. Just away. Away from him, right this second.

So he did. Somehow, his legs had led him to the stupid bricked wall behind the mall, today its purpose was to give nat some privacy.

He dropped down onto the probably disgusting, cold ground without thinking, his body already curling in. He pulled his knees to his chest, thumb to his mouth. Just like that, he was eight agian. He was back there.

This was supposed to be fun.

She wasn’t supposed to be acting like this.

This was supposed to be a fun hangout with her team.

She wasn't supposed to be a child anymore.

She wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

She wasn’t supposed to act like this.

Why can't she just be normal?

His hands were shaking. His thoughts were loud, fast and made no sense at all. Nat had no idea how long he had been there, slowly spiraling, until “Nat, you hiding out here?” Van’s voice cut through his poor, scared mind.

Thankfully for Van, Nat wasn't too far. “Hi, buddy,” they said softly, sitting opposite of Nat, careful not to scare or disturb him any further. Nat looked exactly how he had looked the day his dad died. Small. Thumb in mouth. His eyeliner streaking down his cheeks.

“I’m fine. I am. Just—h-he looked like my dad. Like… fuck. Like I was seeing a ghost or some shi—” she confessed around her thumb, voice cracking in places, clearly using the swear words to seem bigger than she felt. “Oh, Nat,” Van cooed. “I’m fine,” she said again to prove her point, right before Van pulled her into a hug.

“You’re okay.” Van’s arms tightened just a little. Not enough to trap. Not enough to scare. Just enough to hold. Just enough to keep him from spiraling again. Nat’s breath hitched. He wanted the comfort so badly, but he didn’t know if he was accepting it 'right'

“I’m fine, Van,” she mumbled again, though the words were half swallowed by the side of Van’s hoodie and the thumb still stubbornly stuck in her mouth. Nat didn’t sound fine. He sounded eight. And furious about it. But Van didn’t argue. They just continued slowly rubbing his back. Just like they had that day his dad died.

Nat started babbling about something clearly distressed, eager not to seem stupid. Trying to prove he was normal. Van gently shut it down. “You don’t have to explain, bud” they said quietly, hand still moving gently against her back.

Nat started again, faster now, shaking his head in that fast, messy way that meant he wasn’t ready to stop. “I… I aren’t stupid! I know it wasn’t him. I just. I just” he took a deep, breath. “I want him to go 'way, Vannie. Stay d-dead.” He whispered the last part like it hurt to say. Then, louder but no steadier this time, “I want him to g-go. Make me stop feeling like a little fucking child.”

Van let go of Nat just enough to look at her while speaking. “You aren’t there anymore, Nat.” A soft smile played on their lips, a gentle one. Just safe. “You’re just… scared. Scared and dealing with the aftermath.”

Nat let out a sound, something between a relief and cry. Then he buried his face again. Still sucking on his thumb, but he felt lighter this time. "Thank you, Vannie."

[offthewall1979]

wait a second. the twymmf girl acting all "what did i do wrong 🥺" with the onstage michael kiss. she fails to mention that she quite Significantly grabbed his butt. like i'm not saying that should be grounds for what supposedly happened to her, but cmon you know he's weird....

[joeldarling]

Sweet Girl - Oldman!Joel x F!reader (+18)

Summary: You’ve been watching Joel for a long time and when Maria puts you to take care of the horses, you discover that he’s watching you too.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! F!reader, porn without a bigger plot, AGE GAP (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is 60), no reader description at all, fingering (f receiving), handjob in general. Not a long thing, sorry.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: English it’s not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. At this point I feel like oldman!Joel and I have a long term thing and I love it. You can find more spicy and oldman!Joel in my masterlist as well. Feedbacks are utterly appreciated and my requests are always open. 💌

You have known him long enough to realize that Joel Miller is definitely not the man for you. Your parents disapproved of how rude he was to everyone except his own daughter, how he had arrived years later in Jackson and seemed to own absolutely everything with his head held high and not even tolerating minuscule offenses that the rest of the population there would have found harmless.

You were born and raised in Jackson, long twenty years where you never knew anything in the world beyond the fragile walls of the apocalypse. Your father didn't let you go on patrol with the others, and as an important figure on the council, he had enough authority to spare you from that… but you wanted more. You wanted to know the world or what was left of it, you wanted to face something to feel worthy of such protection when certainly there were people out there who didn't have the same privileges.

Maybe that's why you didn't refuse when Maria offered you a temporary job in the stables, promising that she would soon transfer you to the dilapidated and moth-eaten library they were trying to preserve, even without any regular readers. Maybe that's why you didn't respond sharply when Joel arrived with his horse, asking you to help him, and then started returning every single day.

You started wearing your best clothes, which wasn't much, especially there, and started caring more about your appearance, even though no one was there to notice how eager you seemed to attend a manual labor job that involved dealing with animal dirt and vaccinating them, something Joel taught you very well. He would gently take your hand, his rough skin against yours in a delicate way, you could feel his calluses and it sent waves of heat all over your body.

You had never touched yourself before, your father used to say it was a sin, but you knew that not even he believed in God, after all, wouldn't He have spared everyone years ago when it all started?

Then, you discovered the pleasures of knowing your body and felt slightly dirty, felt that thinking about Joel while reaching your orgasm was almost like a mistake, but his smell, something between whiskey and outdated men's cologne, his deep voice and everything else... drove you crazy.

You didn't stop him when he cornered you against the wall for the first time; he was even older than your own father. Joel's suffocating presence soaked your worn cotton panties and he knew it. He had been watching you from afar since the moment you walked into Tipsy Bison months ago, wearing a short dress, and despite feeling immensely guilty, he didn't let it go to his head. Joel was grateful that your father was a big idiot for protecting you from all those stupid men who stared at you like you were a piece of meat in the city. Including himself.

When he found out you were in the stables, he couldn't contain himself. He claimed he would just admire from afar, but the solicitous way you treated him... Joel wasn't made of iron, he was the worst kind of man. And even with his age and being considerably attractive, he had never dared to give in to anyone since he arrived in Jackson.

Not until you.

He pressed his body against the wall, staring into your big eyes that blinked slowly, completely hungry for you. Joel attacked your lips and didn't even care about the possibility of Tommy or Maria walking in at any moment, he needed to devour you, and he did. He pushed up your yellowish-white lace dress, bringing his rough hands to your pussy over your panties, groaning against your lips as he realized you were already wet for him. Joel deduced that you were a virgin and wouldn't dare to be such an asshole, no matter how much he wanted to mark you as his own. He massaged your clit with his fingers slowly and pulled his face away from your mouth just to capture your reaction; you looked like you were about to melt right there, just for him.

Joel groaned undeniably, his own cock hardening against his dark, slightly tight jeans, begging for some kind of relief, fantasizing about fucking you right there and making you moan loud enough for everyone in Jackson to know who you would belong to very soon. Despite being in his sixties, Joel still had a lot of stamina; you awakened his wildest side.

“Such a good girl that ya’ are… Already wet for your old man, hm?” His voice was completely hoarse, his breathing ragged as you felt your own body tremble with the pleasure granted by his brief touch. Joel continued, as if all that mattered was the fact that you were so vulnerable to him. And maybe it was. “Gonna make ya’ cum for me, bet your virgin tight cunt wont’t hold much longer and then… Sweet girl, I’ll find a way to be in the middle of your legs paintin’ ya’ white with my milk.”

“Joel… Please…” You moaned, sighing as his touch seemed to be in every single one of your bones at the same time, his fingers moving in circles on your pussy while his own mouth was busy kissing your lips, neck, and exposed collarbone. You knew you'd have problems later, but you didn't even care when he made a point of marking your neck with a hickey.

“Cum for me, darlin’. Lemme see this pretty pussy of yours pulsin’ just for me.” He asked, and you seemed to hesitate as you realized you were the only one receiving something, but he looked deep into your eyes and shook his head no. “Nuh-uh, later, sweetheart.”

And then, you felt the peak, but Joel didn't stop like you always did when you felt yourself getting there. Your eyes rolled freely in their sockets and you felt your legs tremble. He was still there, moving his fingers and giving you every extra instant of pleasure. When he finally pulled his fingers away from your pussy, Joel brought them to his own lips, tasting you, his eyes still dark and his own cock clearly hard and needing attention. He would never be satisfied with just a little of you.

“There you go, good girl. So sweet for me.” He held you more carefully, bringing one hand to your hair and pushing the graying curls back in an attempt to look minimally presentable, and then looked deep into your eyes and said: “On your knees, honey. I’mma teach ya’ a lesson and then take care of ya’.”

And you did, you obeyed him. How could you not?

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotage you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- SO MUCH FLUFF lol- a lot of humor, next chap we'll be back to some drama so enjoyyy, Stepdad Kuna, whipped ass Kuna, some smut ofc hehe, oral (f revieving) lil bit of dirty talk, emotional sex- angst smut AND fluff - WC-6.6k

Will be eight or more parts- ties into my Mob Gojo story-takes place after part one of that (can be read alone ofc) I HIGHLY recommend the playlist (esp on the club scenes) That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- LINKReblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<Part Four Playlist Masterlist Part six>>>

Part Five

A nice and steamy, pounding hot shower was just what you needed, alone in Sukuna’s own personal bathroom, as he spends time with Touma. You’re exhaling as you sit on the marble bench, letting the water hit you in waves, sighing at just how good it feels, the little drops pounding against your skin, easing the sore achiness of your muscles.

A shower alone as a mother was unheard of, maybe a quick five minutes, but usually Touma and work had you so exhausted you got in for just that, too much to do, too tired to do more than scrub your skin, wash your hair. As fast as you could, but this was pure fucking bliss.

The first day moving most of your things - which wasn’t much- to Sukuna’s penthouse, had been a bit surprising. He’d had movers ready, they all basically did everything for you, and when you’d come, Sukuna had thankfully put up all the freaky shit in his room, and locked up all guns and drugs out of sight. The first meeting of Touma and Sukuna makes you giggle even in the shower.

Touma had been curious when Sukuna had leaned down and kissed you, hugging at your leg and looking at him. Sukuna looked right back. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Touma.” He answers, so seriously. “Are you… you in love with my mom.” Sukuna had paused, mouth wide open, brows low in a shocked glare that had made you burst out laughing.

“Touma baby, Mr. Sukuna is helping us live in this really nice place for a bit, but he’s-”

“So what if I am, kid? Got a problem?” Sukuna got down on his haunches, and Touma had stepped in front of you protectively, melting you as you watched Touma walk right up to Sukuna.

Mob boss, intimidating ass Ryomen Sukuna, and your kid crosses his little arms, tilting his own head. “She’s my Mama, I protect her.”

You gulp down your own emotions now, and Sukuna just glares at him. “And you think I won’t protect her?”

“It’s my job, I’m Touma. I protect Mama.” You’re damn near in tears, turning away for a moment, you hate that Touma feels this way, you’re instantly wracked with questions.

All the fights he saw?

Was it-

“That’s because I love mommy. Do you love mommy?”

“Maybe I do. Will you come kick my ass?” Touma giggles as you turn around and glare.

“Sukuna!”

“No, only if you hurt mommy.” Sukuna sighs then, big huge hand on Touma’s little shoulder.

“I’ll never hurt your mom. Okay? I want to… protect her. Better than you even.” You feel like you’re in some dream in that moment, as Touma stomps that little foot, shaking his head.

“Not better!”

“Way better. I’m bigger, hah!” Touma shoves at Sukuna then, and Sukuna yanks him up high, throwing him over his shoulder, as Touma’s legs wiggle. “See?”

“Put me down, Mama tell him!”

“Put him down, shit.” You can’t stop your laugh though, as Sukuna eases him down until he’s standing again, and he’s holding his shoulders very seriously.

“Will you help me protect your mama?” He asks softly, a tone you have rarely heard, and Touma sighs, nodding then.

“But I can do it alone, you know.”

“I’m sure you can, kid.” Sukuna smiles up at you then, seeing the glimmering tears in your eyes. “You know she’s kinda a crybaby.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Are you one too?”

“No, not a crybaby!” Touma determines, Sukuna grins then, spreading across his handsome face.

“Good, good… wanna see some cool shit?”

“Cool sh-”

“Bad word, Touma!” You cover his mouth, glaring at Sukuna then. “Watch that mouth, hmm?”

“She’s very bossy.” Sukuna says, Touma giggles, and then he tilts his head. “Come on, I got all kinds of… kid shit.”

“Mouth!”

“Kid things, fuck.”

“Don’t cuss like Mr. Sukuna, it’s bad.” You whisper, but Touma looks at you all bright eyed.

“He loves Mama.” You look up to see Sukuna’s blush, bringing upon your own as you clear your throat.

“You think so?” Touma nods, then Sukuna leads you both over, to open a door that’s somehow become a kid’s fucking paradise. Touma squeals, literally squeals, just running in, and you follow, blinking just a bit in shock. Touma starts bouncing on a little toddler bed, and Sukuna shakes his head.

“Ah-ah. No jumping. Didn’t mommy tell you about those stupid monkeys?”

“Monkeys… what?”

“They broke their bones.”

“Kuna!” He just grins as Touma gasps, stopping jumping immediately, but you sigh, taking in every bit of the room, dinosaurs all over, a gaming system, somehow he’s got everything a kid needs in one day. “How’d you do it all?” You murmur, while Touma starts poking around on a remote.

“I paid a shit ton of money for someone to set up shit for a little boy.” He shrugs a broad shoulder, eyeing you then. “Don’t cry, brat.”

“I… you…” You’re in tears, fully, and Sukuna sighs, holding you then, a big hand on your head as he tries to hush you. “You d-did all this? For me? For us?”

“It’s not shit, I just spent money. I literally snapped my fingers and a bunch of workers did the shit. Stop… you’re such a crybaby.”

You’re sobbing now, quietly against his shoulder, as he brushes a hand down your back, his heart filling more and more with every fucking moment he’s near you, when he sees your exhausted, tear streak face he falters, mouth opening and closing. But you beat him to it, cupping his face and leaning up.

“I really love you, Sukuna. You’re… you’re something so… you’re so different, from anything.” He exhales nervously, looking away and gulping.

“You’re being all sappy, stop it. Just wanted him to be comfortable.”

“Thank you so much. He loves it already.” You’re giggling while you’re crying, Sukuna smiles just a bit.

“You’re a wreck, brat.”

“I know.” He exhales, letting you cuddle to him, when Touma comes up and hugs his thigh, making Sukuna freeze, and you grin.

“Thank you Mr. Kuna!”

“God, even your kid uses the name? It’s Sukuna.”

“Kuna!”

“Jesus.”

You’re still grinning so hard it hurts, fuck when was the last time you were this damn happy, even with the looming threat of Naoya and so much more happening. As you turn off the silver knob of the shower, you’re curious how it’s going, Sukuna and a kid kind of made no sense, but seeing him trying more in one day than Naoya did in years was touching, it was fucking beautiful.

You don’t just - kind of love him- or - think you’re in love. No, you’re madly head over heels for this gruff crime lord, who’s giving you so much, and you don’t know what he gets in return. You want to help him, and be good for him, show him just how appreciative you are. Which, you heat up as you stare in the mirror, thinking of ways to show him tonight.

As you slip on your pajamas, you hear ‘ bang bang’ and rush out, it’s Touma saying it, over and over. You hear Sukuna’s booming laugh, rushing out with still damp hair as you eye the scene in front of you, mouth dropped open, Touma’s hand has a toy gun, his damn teddy bears have their little squishy arms tied, and there is fake money strewn all over.

“Haha, yeah kid, you just point and say it, c’mon you got it.” Sukuna’s grinning as he sits on the carpet, with his own toy gun, showing him. “Say - yo- you got my money!?”

“Yo gots my money!” Touma giggles now. “Bang!”

Sukuna slaps Touma in the back so hard the kid almost falls, affectionately you think!? “Yes, that’s it, then you-”

“What are you two doing, hmm!?” You cross your arms, and they both look at you, Touma’s eyes bright and glittering, Sukuna just smirking.

“What, we’re playing and bonding and that kinda shit. Touma, show mommy.”

“Look!” Touma shoots off the nerf gun now, and you gasp as he knocks the teddy bears right over, Sukuna smacks Touma in the back, bursting with laughter.

“This kid, I like him, look at that aim, huh? Now you take the-”

“Are you two serious!?” You demand, scowling at Sukuna, but Touma giggles and runs to you now, jumping up and down.

“Mommy, so much fun! Kuna is so fun I wuv him!” Sukuna clears his throat, bashful suddenly as he stands, rubbing the back of his neck.

You ignore the barbies that the teddy bears have thrown fake cash at apparently for just a moment, ignore the tied up bears and the nerf guns, and look down at Touma, who you haven’t seen this happy in so long. Then back at a Sukuna who is looking away, worried he’s fucked it all up.

You exhale then, realizing it.

You’re hopelessly in love, and even your kid loves this crazy ass man, on sight. “Although this isn’t the best game to play…”

They both look at you, eyes hopeful.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, hmm?” You murmur to Touma, brushing back his soft hair, you hear Sukuna’s exhale as Touma runs back to the game. Sukuna eyes you, walking close and leaning down, hands in his pockets. “You-”

“I know, I know I’m shit with kids. I just wanted you to have a break for a minute, and I don’t know what brat ass little... things even do. I figured-”

“Shh.” You grab his face then, kissing his lips gently, and he pulls you close, right against his chest, your skin dewy from the shower, eyes once again swirling with emotions, as he gulps a bit, just how pretty you are.

“You’re pissed hmm?”

“No, not pissed. This isn’t good behavior but… look at him.” Touma’s popping nerf guns at the bears with a little too much precision. “He’s so happy. Thank you for all of this, really, even if this is… inappropriate and a horrible influence, but...”

Sukuna blinks sooty pink lashes. “You're thanking me?”

“Yeah, you’re trying. And he… wuvs you.” You watch him look away again, as Touma begins to yawn.

“Tch. Wiped out already, kid?” Sukuna demands, but Touma just nods, and you swoop in, getting him to lay down, Sukuna lingers by the outside of the door, giving you both a moment.

“Will you be okay sleeping in here tonight?” You ask softly, Touma’s eyes are already fluttering shut as you cover him up.

“I like it here mommy, he’s so fun!” You grin down at him.

“He is fun.”

Touma touches your cheek with his little hand, melting you. “You love him, huh Mama?”

You look behind you, seeing his shadow along the doorway, sighing and then looking back at Touma, smiling. “Keep it a secret, but yes.” 

Sukuna’s heart hammers in his chest as he hears you both, and you hum so sweetly to him, his feelings so overwhelming he can’t control himself. The minute you shut the door, you’re in his arms, lifted, his hands gripping your thighs, pressing you against the wall.

You gasp then, before you relax, and he smells how sweet you are from that body wash he bought you, you probably would flip if you knew the price tag, but Sukuna would get you anything. You don’t know what he’d do for you, who he’d kill for you, just to keep you and that kid- who's actually pretty okay, for a kid - safe, and happy, so quickly you’ve consumed him.

You’re clinging to his shoulders, as you bite your plump lower lip, trying not to make any noise, and Sukuna exhales, leaning even closer, lips a breath from yours. “Know how crazy you make me, brat? Got me having a whole kid here, got me thinking of putting another in you.”

You flush now, arching your hips, as he hides his groan in your neck, exhaling, your hands enwrapped in pastel locks. “Think I don’t picture it too? Think you don’t make me insane?”

“I need you, brat. Now.” He whispers, you nod eagerly and he’s carrying you, like you’re nothing, kissing messy and brutal down the hallway, until you’re in his room, and he’s kissing down your neck, biting your delicate skin brutally.

“Kuna!” You’re whimpering as he does, grinding your heated cunt against him in your silky shorts, feeling his cock hard and throbbing.

“Need you now.” You nod eagerly once more, as you look up into dilated ruby eyes, almost black.

“Then take me.”

“God, what you do, woman…” You’re on his bed before you can blink, dizzy with how the man just throws you around, how he’s slipping off your shorts, you’re throwing a hand over your mouth as he spreads your thighs, kissing down your breasts, to the peaks of them, making your back arch. “Ah-ah.”

Sukuna yanks your hand off your mouth, and you suck in a breath when he’s kissing your other breasts, tongue lapping around and areola. “I can’t have him hear anything!”

Sukuna grins then. “I told you, it’s pretty much soundproof.”

Your eyes narrow. “Do I wanna know why?” He chuckles, continuing to kiss, lick and bite between your breasts and around your rib cage, shoving your little pajama top up further as he does.

“If you must know brat, I used to have Toji living here, and I decided I didn’t want him jerking off while I’m fucking.” You shake your head with a breathless giggle.

“You two!? Lived together!?”

“He lived here while he was a broke bitch, now I really don’t wanna talk about Toji right now.” He bites your nipple hard, and you whine out, head falling back against the soft pillows.

“You’re so f-freaky…”

“Mmm, I take it easy on you, you know that? Think I’ve ever been like this with a woman?” You exhale now, hands running through the pastel locks of his hair, arching your hips up more as he kisses down a shimmery white stretch mark. “God look how fucking sexy you are.”

“Kuna… please…” He smirks now, kissing even lower, until he’s hovering over your pussy, breath hot as he spreads your lips, spitting right on your clit and groaning as he watches it trail down.

“Please what, brat? I can’t take my time?” He demands, raising a brow, your pussy is drooling as he flicks his tongue on your clit, making you moan out loud, his cock is so hard he’s thrusting it against the bed for friction.

“Need you, please, stop teasing.” He flicks his tongue again, chuckling against you as your thighs are trembling on either side of his head.

“Oh do you? Need what, hmm?”

“More.” You yank on his hair, and he’s grinning against your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit but just not hitting it, watching you huff in frustration. “Kuna, please!”

“You’re beggin’ huh? So pathetic?”

“You know what-” You yank his face against you now, and he moans as you do, the action turning him on so much he can’t think, as you greedily grind against his face, and he’s leaking precum, dying to be inside your tight entrance, lapping all your juices up so hungry. “Y-yes!”

“Greedy little slutty brat f’me?” You nod as he murmurs against your skin, as his huge tattooed hands are pressing your thighs further apart, and he’s drinking you up, moaning as he works you. “Gonna fuck my face- god yes.”

“S-sorry… need more…” You’re lost now, as you rock up and down, as his tongue and nose and teeth all work you over and over so good, until you feel the pressure building, breasts heaving with your quicker breaths. “So good, f-fuck, Kuna it’s so…”

“Cum all over my face, c’mon baby.” He urges, lapping your juices from your hole up to your clit while you’re gasping for breaths, pleasure wrecking your brain, washing all over you in waves. “C’mon lemme drink it up.”

“Mnh!” You’re cumming so hard as he drinks you up, as his fingers bruise your thighs, and his mouth devours your pussy, the sounds of him echoing off the walls and making you scream out more and more. As you’re pulsing around his tongue, the wet muscle presses up, tastebuds just a little rough on gummy walls, forcing you into another orgasm.

“Mmm…” He’s moaning at your sweet taste, licking at his lips now, biting your inner thigh, the pain making you cry out again, hands now gripping his shoulders, broad and strong, yanking at the shirt he’s wearing. “Need me so bad?”

“God, you already know I do, you’re so-” He cuts off your compliments with a hungry kiss, as you’re running your fingers down his muscles, trying to take a breath, thighs shaking while his cock is rubbing between them.

“Taste yourself.” You’re lapping your juices off his lips with your little pink tongue, as he’s grinding against you, still in pants, making you huff in frustration, yanking on them as he laughs.

“You’re so mean, jus’ lemme…”

“Gotta have me right now, can’t wait, you’re so impatient.”

“No, c-can’t.” You’re freeing his cock, stroking the huge, thick length up and down, thumb pressing against his piercing, eyes darting up to his face as he drinks you in. “Beautiful.”

“Me!? Shut that shit up.”

“You are.”

“Calling me some bitch shit. You’re beautiful.” You smile and shake your head, thumb brushing across a flat brown nipple. “So beautiful I never want anyone to even fucking see you again.” His voice is husky, one of his hands guiding his cock to rub up and down between your folds, pressing against your clit, making you drool down his length.

“Never, how will I strip then?” You tease softly, he scowls, rubbing the piercing against you over and over, watching your pretty eyes flutter shut.

“Think I’ll let you?”

“Think you can stop me?”

Sukuna smirks, shaking his head as he shoves his cock deep inside you, and you’re screaming out, thankful his walls are soundproof for whatever weird reason it was, as the stretch burns so good inside your cunt. You’re struggling to take him as he watches every expression on your perfect features, your lips parted, your nails pressing into his skin.

“I can stop you alright.” He whispers, pulling back and thrusting deeper, stuffing you even more full, tears in your eyes as he works you. “Gonna argue ever when I give it to you so fuckin’ good?”

You shake your head, whispering out - “N-not fair…”

“Takin’ my cock like you’re made for it.” Sukuna’s words along with him yanking a thigh up, putting the arch of your foot on his shoulder and kissing your ankle makes your walls pulse around him. “Struggling to take it, too fuckin’ tiny?”

“I c-can do it.” He smirks down at you, broad smile on his handsome face, before he slams inside you so hard your toes curl, hitting your cervix as you damn near pull back, his hands dragging you by your hips.

“Don’t run, now- f-fuck…” Sukuna moans as he leans over, sinking impossibly deeper, cock stroking in and out of you, his teeth grazing your neck as he buries his face against your neck, exhaling and biting harder, spurned on by your whines, making him lose it.

“Mnh! So b-big…” You’re whispering, hissing again as he bites your neck harder, sliding hotly tongue up the side of it, shalmming his cock so far in you’re cumming again, piercing dragging right on that fucking spot.

“You’re so tight f-fuck, so wet for me, just me huh?”

You nod, panting, eyes squeezed shut as his cock stretches you open, as he’s fucking you harder now, deep and fast, his pelvis slapping into yours, making a sloppy, obscene fucking sound the wetter and wetter you get. You can feel your cunt gushing around him, feel it dripping down between your thighs, down your ass and his balls that are heavy and smacking you.

He pulls up, ruby eyes locked on yours, as you whisper - “L-love you.”

Sukuna pauses, exhaling, hot breath against already overheated lips when he cups your face with a big hand, slowing his thrusts for a moment, making every inch take so excruciatingly long, letting you feel every fucking part of him. Your heart races, you can’t stop yourself.

“I do. I do. I d-do… I know it’s-”

“Shut it, brat.” He slams his lips back down on yours, shutting up your every confession, rolling his hips so his piercing is pressing on that spongy spot, drinking in your every cry, while your pussy is tightening around his cock.

“Kuna…” You’re hiccuping at how good he feels, while he’s leaning heavy weight on you, brushing your hair back. “S-sorry…”

“Shh.” Hiis thrusts are becoming more erratic, more intense, watching your eyes roll back, mouth open. “Think I don’t love you?”

Your eyes try to focus, but he’s fucking you so good it’s impossible, you just sputter as he works over you, one hand now resting under your chin, long fingers wrapping your delicate neck. He rests his other elbow near your head, that hand entangling in your hair, pulling at it, watching as he fucks you stupid.

“Answer me, now.” He orders, you’re clinging to the sheets, and he glares now, slowing his strokes. “Get those nails back on my back.”

“Yes, y-yes sir…” You do just that, watching him moan, his head falling back, you eagerly kiss down his neck, lapping at the bobbing adam's apple as he’s in bliss, your walls contracting around him, pouring out more and more soaking arousal.

“Answer me.” He orders again, while your nails are digging against his muscled back, looking back at you, eyes black damn near, slamming his cock in so hard you have to bite back a full scream, only earning his groan, squeezing your throat just a bit harder. “Now.”

“I d-don’t know if y-you feel sorry for-”

“Nah, fuck that, I just fucking want you. I need you.” He watches your eyes go glassy, your lips tremble, as your thighs squeeze his hips, and he works your cunt so goddamn good, thumb pressing your racing pulse. “Did I fuck you too stupid, think I don’t love you already?”

“Kuna…” You’re sobbing when you kiss him, and he loses himself even more in you, inside you, surrounding you, while your back arches, lips and tongues fighting for dominance, as he flips you, now letting you on top of him.

“Gonna make me keep saying it, like some dumb fucking simp?” He demands with a glare, and you nod with a little giggle so breathless and weak, while he slips you down his cock. “Then you better ride me.”

It’s been a while, and you aren’t sure you’re good at it, faltering, as your hands rest on his strong chest, against just a part of the endless black tattoos, your hair falling to the side as you roll your hips. “Will you tell me if I’m okay?”

He scowls, lifting your hips and dragging you back down his cock, watching your breasts bounce as he brings you down on him, veins pulsing inside your cunt. “Okay is never a fucking word for you. Y’know how good your pussy is, show me, huh baby?” He whispers, encouraging you, and you nod then, biting your lip, watching as his cheeks tint pink even in the dim lighting of his room, as he bites his lip with white teeth.

“Like this?” You ask nervously, trying to shove back all the past of hearing how terrible you were at things, because Sukuna looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess right now, nodding and gulping.

“Fuck yeah, just like that, ride me till you cum.” He says, all husky, and you eagerly start to bounce now, thighs slapping against his as you ride him harder, faster, then start leaning up, thighs working themselves. Sukuna’s groaning out loud, hands now on your ass cheeks, pumping up inside you. “There it is, there you go-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit.

You instantly freeze, looking at the door, and hearing it again-

Knock knock knock.

“I need to-”

“Fuck no.” Sukuna drags you back on him as you go to get up, but you glare now, shaking your head. “Really now.”

“Mama? Mr. Kuna?” You hear, and Sukuna holds back his groan as he covers his face, cock twitching when you’re sliding off it, cursing yourself with how sore you already are.

“Let him go back to bed.” Sukuna grumbles, staring at his cock that’s glistening with you, as you slip on pajamas and giggle.

“Mostly soundproof?” You tease.

“He didn’t hear shit, promise, unless he’s right against the door the entire time.” He murmurs, cupping your face.

“I’ll be back in a bit, Mr. Kuna.” Sukuna scowls as you rush out, and throw a blanket over him.

Kids are cockblocks.

“What is it, Touma?” You murmur, as you walk out, and see him sleepily rubbing one eye, but when you bend down you see his distraught face. “Bad dream baby?”

“Bad dream. Mama got hurt in it.” He’s sniffling then, and you pick him up quickly, holding him tight.

“No, Touma I’m fine!”

“Mama was gone.” His words make your heart hammer, you shake your head quickly as you walk back to his new room, feet padding gently on the polished floors until you hit his soft carpet.

“Mama will never leave you.” You murmur, laying him back down, and Touma lifts the bright blue blanket, patting it with his little hand.

“Cuddles?” You smile amidst terror gnawing at you, trying to shove it all down for him, getting right in the toddler bed, laying on an arm as you watch him.

“You worry so much, I promise I’ll be okay. You seemed so happy today, with Mr. Kuna hmm?” You brush his hair back and he grins now.

“I like him so much! He’s so fun!”

You grin right back, heart fluttering as you think of it- Sukuna loves you.

Loves you.

“He is fun. I think he likes you alot too, Touma.”

“Will we be here a long time?” You blink a bit then, sighing and snuggling further against Touma, as he rubs your cheek, so caring already so young, he touches your heart more every moment, the love for your son so deep it feels impossible that you had room for Sukuna too.

It’s like your heart grew to expand enough for the both of them, though of course the love is so different, you now know you’ve never felt it for another man, even when you thought you loved him. Naoya. How, you can’t really fathom, the gaslighting, manipulation!?

Were you such a fool?

But then you wouldn’t have him, your baby boy.

“Mama?”

“Sorry, baby.” You try to snap back to the moment, as Touma’s little pout is so serious for his cute little face. “We will be here for a while I think.”

“I like that, Mr. Kuna can show me more games!” You yawn, as you pull him against you.

“Maybe nicer games?” Touma yawns now too, and you snuggle closer, feeling sleep tug at you. “Maybe I’ll just sleep for a minute…”

Twenty minutes.

Does it take twenty minutes to get a kid to sleep!? Sukuna doesn’t know, but he knows the kid is now responsible for the girl he loves leaving him wanting, and that’s irritating. He wants you all to himself, and sharing you is irritating, even if he does really like the kid, he needs you back.

Sukuna decides to finally go check once his cock went down, which took far too fucking long, and he pauses at the doorway when he sees it then, his heart doing this irritating flutter feeling. It’s even worse than the love he feels already, when he sees you snoring lightly right next to your little boy, who is snuggled against you tightly, his little arms around your neck.

“Well, shit.” He mumbles, leaning on the doorway for a moment, crossing his arms as he stares at the two of you, you sleeping on one arm, no blanket, it appears you’d put it all on Touma.

Sukuna sighs now, walking in the little room, taking a pillow and slipping it under your head, you hum just a bit, still curled up in the tiny little bed. He chuckles softly, taking some of the blanket and tucking you up in it, looking at the little smile on your pretty face, stroking your cheek for just a moment.

You’re so cute he’ll forgive you for leaving him hanging, he supposes, looking at Touma who snuggles right back to you, and you instinctively wrap your arm around him in your sleep. The sight of the two of you, especially you cuddling what is just about a copy of you, is too much for him, he’s feeling too sappy, and irritated, deciding to scowl just a bit for good measure.

He wants you in his bed, dammit… he wants you to cuddle him, but he has to admit as he walks out, you’re fucking adorable.

*****

Sukuna wakes up to heavenly scents wafting through his penthouse, tummy grumbling as you work your magic in his kitchen, the sight of you humming in little sleep shorts half rolled up is far more appetizing than event he scents, as he eyes Touma sipping orange juice from a little cup with a top, grinning at him.

“Mr. Kuna!” Touma runs to him, and you turn back to see him hugging Sukuna’s leg, Sukuna just stands there, grimacing as you giggle, earning his glare your direction, a thousand things unspoken in that expression of his.

“Yeah, morning kid.” Sukuna pats Touma’s head, pushing at him a bit awkwardly, eyeing you looking all fresh faced with a messy bun, spatula in your hand. “And good morning, brat.”

“Morning Kuna.”

“Tch.” He steps to you now, swiping at a little flour on your nose, inhaling how sweet you smell, pressing a kiss on your lips. “You’re in trouble, y’know?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whisper, as you now eye Touma. “Hey, can he watch some tv?”

“Shit, yeah. What do you watch, kid?” He asks, as you hand Touma a plate, and Sukuna flips on the tv in the living room, letting Touma sit on the floor in front of it with his waffles, eggs and bacon.

“Bluey!”

“The fuck’s a Bluey?” You’re holding back laughter as you finish making breakfast for you and Sukuna, listening to the ensuing humor that is your boyfriend and your son conversing.

“It’s a dog, and she’s so cool, Mr. Kuna do you wanna watch!” Sukuna grimaces, shaking his head and turning on Netflix, handing Touma the remote.

“God no. Here, you know how to put it on?”

“Mhm!”

“Good.” He pats Touma’s head again, and comes back to you, as you’re making him a plate, complete with a whipped cream smile and strawberry eyes. Sukuna’s face makes you burst into laughter.

“It’s cute, huh?”

“You’re so asking for it.” He grumbles, snatching up the syrup and slathering it all over the fluffy waffles, destroying your smiley face.

“Meanie!”

“Tch. Where’d you get all this food anyway? I order out all the time.”

“I ordered groceries, is that okay?”

Sukuna’s jaw sets. “With your money, no.”

“Kuna!”

“No, I’ll have to give you a card or some shit.” You shake your head at him, making your own plate and sitting next to him, biting back a sigh when his big warm hand touches your thigh, and he leans close.

“Sorry I passed out.” You murmur, awakening far too much he’s trying to hold back, his eyes narrow at you.

“I’ll make you make up for it tonight.” You shift just a bit in your seat at the mere thought, earning his smirk, as his hand squeezes the plush of your thigh. “With that mouth, hmm?”

“Oh, I don’t mind that.” You whisper, against his ear, sending shivers of desire down his spine, before you kiss his cheek. “This is the best day I’ve had.”

“It’s just started, though?”

“Still. It is. It feels… right?” He brushes his hand up and down your thigh, moaning as he bites into the waffle now, feeling it so flaky and fluffy in his mouth, so sweet.

“Tastes so goddamn good, shit.”

“As good as me?” You tease, mouthing quietly, he bites back a moan, dragging you even closer, one of your legs over his.

“Nothing’s that good, shit. But close?” You nibble on one too, smiling happily, to be this close to him just doing something so simple is bliss. “Gonna have to keep you around, cooking like this.”

“Yeah?” You grin so big, lighting up your face, making him falter, then making him scowl. “What!?”

“Making me sappy, so fucking annoying.”

“Poor Kuna.” You kiss him again, he tries to keep the scowl, but it fails. After a little bit he’s fully in  a four piece suit, however, overcoat and all, along with black leather gloves, making you frown a bit while you’re washing dishes.

“I have a dishwasher, brat.”

“I am just used to hand washing.” You dry your pretty little hands on a towel, he frowns as he looks at them, a little calloused from the pole already, he doesn’t like that, he really doesn’t want you doing a damn thing as soon as you’ll let him take care of you completely. “Where are you going? Should I call Miwa over for a bit to watch Touma, go with?”

“No, you can’t go to this shit.” You frown deeper, and he tilts your chin up, shaking his head. “Dangerous.”

“Then why do you go!?” You whisper, heart feeling with fear, and he leans closer, arms now on either side of you on the counter.

“Baby girl I run a mob, I’m not some little bitch. I’m always good.”

“But-”

“This is part of it.” His tone is firmer, and he lifts his jacket, showing an array of guns and knives glinting that make your tummy flip.

“All that?” You whisper, eyeing him with even more fear.

“I’m always good, promise. You play pretty housewife and hang out with the kid, I need to deal with…”

“Naoya?” You’re mouthing it, he shakes his head.

“Not yet. Meeting with the Kamo family first, okay?”

“So not as…”

“No, they’re pretty in with the Gojo family. But this isn’t a concern, what I need you to do is wear him out today so I get you all to myself, hmm?” He’s smirking, and you fight him with a pout, until he keeps kissing you over and over, and you’re melting in his arms, nodding. “Good girl.”

“You’re not playing fair.” He’s pulling and your waist just a bit, thumbs brushing under your breasts, as every nerve ending is on fire for him.

“I’ll be back later, make me something yummy for dinner too?”

“You’re liking this a lot aren’t you?” You tease, but he hears it, the hope and nerves in your voice, he pinches your ass, and you hold in your yelp, smacking a hand on your mouth as he grins.

“I’ll like it more when you melatonin the-”

“Kuna!”

“Well, just saying. I need to go though.” He frowns at his rolex, and your heart feels like it will pound from your chest in fear. “Have you seen me? Think anyone can fuck with me?”

You look down, terrified for him, feeling the guilt of causing more problems gnawing at you. “But he-”

“Ain’t got shit on me, brat, does he?” Sukuna raises a brow, god you want to just stay in his arms forever, but you know you can’t.

“Nothing, and you know that. But he’s-”

“Ah-ah. Shut it. Now, entertain the kid or whatever you do? Take the day to relax a bit. If you need something just call me.” He leans a little closer, pressing his lips on your forehead, your eyes flutter shut at how good it feels. “Bodyguards are outside, no one will come here.”

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Tch. You’ll thank me later alright.” You glare so cute, as he walks by, but not before Touma runs to him, hugging his thigh again, and the sight is so adorable your cheeks hurt from grinning. “God, you’re a clingy kid huh?”

“Mr. Kuna, will you watch a movie with me later?” He asks, and Sukuna rolls his red eyes, shrugging as he tries to pry the kid off him.

“Sure, but I’ll pick it, maybe Godfather or-”

“You will not even watch Godfather!” He smirks over at you, winking.

“I’ll let your Mama pick instead.”

“Okay! Have fun at work!” Sukuna bites back a smile, walking out then, leaning against the door and righting himself, he’s been too blissful for the day, for the night, now he knows, it’s time to get serious. He takes his phone, hearing Satoru’s voice on the other line now.

“Got it scheduled right?” He asks Gojo then, and he sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s gonna be so boring.”

“Rather bang that bartender huh?” He snorts in laughter as he rides the elevator down, hearing Gojo sigh dramatically again.

“More than that.”

“Shit, you down that bad already?”

“Says you, Stepdad Kuna.”

“God don’t you fuckin’ call me that too, shit.” He’s disgusted as he steps into the back of the limo, hanging up and seeing Satoru in the backseat, all pouting.

“I don’t wanna be up this early going to see them, they’re so-”

“Boring, yeah yeah. Think I wanna?” Sukuna grumbles right back, looking out the window for a moment, thinking of spending the day with you.

“I know this is necessary just… the Kamo family are pretentious as fuck, I get tired of trying to make deals with them.” Satoru sprawls his long legs, then perks up just a bit as Sukuna grabs a little baggie. “Gonna share?”

“If it cheers your mopey ass up.” Satoru’s grin is back, though his shades are pushed up a little higher than usual. “You gonna go on a date with her?”

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna ask her…”

“When?”

“Um… I… how do you ask a girl out exactly? I’ve never…”

“Yeah.” Sukuna snorts in laughter again. “We are not having a father to son talk I sure the fuck hope.”

“I’m not much younger, and women just come to me.” Satoru sighs again, snorting a line and pinching his nose. “I really like her, Kuna.”

“I hate that name so fucking much.” Sukuna snorts one too, wishing he could instead snort it off your pretty body. “Just ask her?”

“Like and take her where?”

“I don’t fucking know, Fiji?”

“Yeah?”

“No, Satoru, shit… like dinner or something. Hmm…” He pauses then, he hasn’t even taken you out yet. “Where do you take dates?”

“Let’s ask Suguru.” When Satoru and Sukuna stop in front of Suguru’s place and he glides in, he’s now bombarded by the two grown ass men, Satoru pouting, Sukuna’s lips in a terse line.

“You all look… serious.” Suguru muses with a smirk.

“How do you ask a girl on a date!?” Satoru asks, and Sukuna shakes his head, holding up a hand.

“Where do you take your girl on a date?” 

Suguru blinks a bit now, before snorting in laughter, one of his hands over his mouth, shaking dark hair. “You two serious?” A pair of blue and red eyes just stare at him now, and he sighs. “Shit, you are. Alright then…”

I KNOW so much fluff- this will clearly be more than six parts- prob eight? I don't know yet I'm having too much fun with Stepdad Kuna don't you judge him!!!

Taglist #1 @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua @mai-505 @suguru-nugget @scorpiosugar

[mrsbarnesblog]

˖˚⊹ i’ve got you

part 1

➤ summary: after leaving you with Sarah, Rafe decides to deal with your ex and make sure that he would never have the power to hurt you again

➤ w/c: 2k

➤ warnings: mentions of SA and being filmed without permission, violence, blood, threats with a gun, protective Rafe

➤ a/n: for those who asked to write the continuation of the first part. also i’m accepting request for Rafe, so if you have anything interesting to share, feel free to send it to me🪼

masterlist

Rafe didn’t say much when he left you in the living room of Tanneyhill, only threw a blanket over your body and left a soft kiss on your forehead, as you both knew exactly where he was going. Only Sarah stood speechless in the doorway, looking from her brother to you and being absolutely lost about what was going on. 

A few hours ago you came in normal, greeting Rafe the way you usually did—shy, hesitant. The way that made Sarah always tease you about it. She didn’t notice anything weird. And after you disappeared in the bathroom for an hour, coming out of there with her brother, shaken and clearly after crying there the whole time, Sarah didn’t know what to think. 

She had never seen Rafe like that before. Sure, his temper had always been over the top, but an absolutely cold and murderous look on his face when he brushed past her and ordered her to look after you? Well, that was new.

“What happened? Is there… anything going on between the two of you?” She asked softly, sitting at the edge of the sofa near you. You shook your head, not trusting your voice to speak and knowing damn well that if you open your mouth, you will burst into tears again. She let out a sigh, for a moment debating calling Kie or Cleo to ask for advice, but eventually she let go, settling near you while you slowly drifted to sleep. 

Rafe’s knuckles twitched against the leather wheel as he drove with one hand. He knew where Ethan lived, remembering that busted apartment off Madsen Street, the third floor, the one with the shitty balcony and peeling green door. He parked crookedly and didn’t even bother locking the car, knowing that it wouldn't take him long. 

He didn’t knock, he slammed his hand against the door a few times. Ethan opened it with the usual, sleazy grin on his face, holding a phone in his hand, as if he was waiting for something. His eyes widened for a split second before he puffed his chest to make himself look bigger and taller than Rafe was, looking him up and down dismissively. 

“The fuck do you—“ Rafe didn’t let him finish, shoving him back into the apartment and slamming the door behind him so hard it felt like the whole building shook. 

Ethan stumbled back, barely not tripping over the sofa, trying to look tough and cool, but Rafe saw that fear in his eyes. The one he always had around him, as if knowing that Rafe could snap him in half if he really wanted to, and Rafe definitely thrived on that feeling. 

“Get the fuck away, Cameron!” Ethan mumbled, backing away with every step Rafe took, fidgeting with his phone and helplessly looking around. 

“You know why I'm here. Though you could scare her into crawling back to you, huh?” Rafe’s voice came out low and dangerous, the feelings about you being hurt finally getting a release. Ethan’s grip on the phone tightened, the screen lighting up, making Rafe’s eyes zero in on it and jaw clench. 

“I didn’t—man, it wasn’t like that, I swear—” Rafe didn’t let him finish, throwing a punch right into his jaw. Ethan fell on the floor, crying from pain, as blood trickled down his lip, trying to get up, face red and twisted in a mix of pain and fake bravado. 

“You don’t know what she’s like, man—she—she wanted it, alright? She was moaning my name—”

That earned him another blow. This one knocked a tooth loose. Blood bloomed across his lips.

“Say that again.” Rafe snarled, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him upright like he weighed nothing. “Fucking say that shit again. Tell me she asked for it. Tell me she wanted you to touch her, to drug her, to film her like she was just something for you to use and toss away.”

“I didn’t drug her!” Ethan spat, his face bleeding now, splotches blooming on the floor and light wall behind him. “She drank too much, okay? It wasn’t my fault! What do you want me to say?”

“That you're worthless.” Punch. “Pathetic sack of shit.” Punch. “Who’s about to lose everything.” Punch. Rafe threw him back down like garbage, breathing heavily, before connecting his boot with Ethan’s ribs with so much power that it was enough to break them. 

Rafe finally was satisfied enough, seeing that piece of shit hunched on the floor and covered in his own blood. He reached behind him, pulling a gun from the back of his waistband, and held it steady, cold metal glinting in the hallway light. Rafe wasn’t shaking. His hand was terrifyingly still, aimed right at the forehead.

Ethan coughed, whining on the floor, trying to lift himself on shaking hands, still oblivious to what could happen at any moment. When something metal clicked near his ear, Ethan’s eyes went wide, head snapping towards the sound. He scrambled backward, palms scraping against the floor. “What the fuck, man… What the fuck?!” 

Rafe thrived off the look in Ethan’s eyes. That pure and pathetic fear, the moment he understood that he was absolutely alone and unable to protect himself. And Rafe would’ve pulled the trigger. Oh, he really wanted to. But he knew how much it would hurt you to know that he got blood on his hands, he could imagine you blaming yourself for it.

“Phone. Laptop. Drive. Whatever shit you have, you’re gonna delete everything. Every video. Every picture. Every fuckin’ copy on every drive, every cloud backup. All of it. And you’re gonna do it with a gun to your head so you don’t get any bright ideas. You better pray I believe your ass, or otherwise I’m gonna blow a hole in your fucking head just like you deserve.” His voice was cold and steady. Ethan started nodding, fidgeting with his phone and unlocking it only on the third try. 

Rafe stood there and watched everything. He watched Ethan open the files, show the videos, show the backups, and delete every last one. And then, with the gun still trained on his face, Rafe made him reset everything to factory settings. Wipe. Everything.

“And the drive.” Rafe said again, voice flat.

“It’s gone, I swear—”

“Drive. Now.” The barrel of the gun touched Ethan’s temple, and he slid down the wall, on which he was leaning while sitting, to the floor, crawling towards the desk and pulling it from a drawer. One last backup. Rafe smashed it with his boot, again and again, until it was nothing but plastic and wire guts. 

“You show your face again, you text her again, or you look at her again, and I swear to God I’ll bury you alive after breaking every bone in your body. Do you hear me?!”

Ethan was choking on his own sobs now, snot mixing with the blood, face pale and eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He nodded frantically, hands raised like a white flag, but Rafe didn’t move. He crouched down, slow and measured, keeping the barrel grazing Ethan’s forehead, his eyes full of rage but clear and sharp.

“If I hear one rumor, one whisper, one goddamn trace of her name tied to what you did…” His eyes locked with Ethan’s, voice stone cold. “You’re dead.”

He turned, leaving Ethan curled on the floor, the door hanging crooked on its hinges behind him. 

Out in the car, Rafe gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went bone-white. He didn’t start the engine right away. He just sat there, breathing hard, his shirt clinging to him, his heart almost jumping out of his ribcage.

Rafe returned back to Tanneyhill an hour later, feeling that he had to calm down before seeing you. He took the longest road to clean his mind, to think about what happened and about what it meant for the two of you. 

His feelings for you were clear and sincere, they always had been, since the moment he finally accepted that there was a reason he felt different whenever you were around. So now, when all the cards were on the table, he had to be careful. He could never forgive himself if he fucked it up. Not this time. Not with you. 

He moved through the house slowly and quietly, going through the big rooms to the one where he had left you. 

Sarah was in front of him the same second she heard the soft steps. Her eyes got wide at the sight of the blood, his and clearly someone else’s, on his split knuckles. Hair messy and eyes still slightly distant and cold—clear indicator that something had happened that disturbed Rafe deeply. 

“Rafe… What the hell happened?” She hissed as loud as she could, looking back for a second to look at your sleeping form. “Tell me you didn’t kill anyone…” Her voice dropped lower, an unsettling feeling creeping into her. 

“I didn’t.” Rafe mumbled, not even looking at his sister. His eyes were on you, slightly softer now. 

“I don’t— I don’t fucking understand. Why was she crying? Where have you been? Why the hell are you looking at her like a lovesick puppy?” Sarah got desperate, her hands flying to her head, running them through her blond hair, and groaning when Rafe still didn’t pay any attention to her. 

“If she wants to, she’ll tell you.” That was everything he said before brushing past Sarah, moving towards the sofa, and dropping to his knees in front of you.

You were asleep, but it was clear that it wasn’t peaceful. Your hands were gripping the blanket and keeping it close to your chest. Blow slightly furrowed and lashes fluttering against your cheeks. 

Rafe brought his clear left hand to your face, sliding his knuckles down your jaw. 

The gentleness of his touch made your eyes open slowly, a quiet and tired sigh escaping from your lips. Everything was blurry at first, until your eyes focused in the dim room and saw Rafe’s face in front of you. 

“Rafe.” You whispered his name softly, lifting your hand to touch his. 

“I’m here now.” His thumb brushed your cheek, slow and grounding. “I handled it. It’s all gone. I promise.” You stared at him, stunned, trying to process everything, to understand that it all was not a sick nightmare. Your lips slightly trembled, but you were too tired to cry again. “You don’t have to worry. He won’t come near you ever again.” 

You nodded slightly, and something inside you unclenched, just enough to let the exhaustion come crashing in all over again. When you shifted and, instinctively, reached for him, Rafe caught you before you could even sit up fully.

“C’mon.” He said, rising with ease, one arm sliding beneath your legs, the other behind your back. “You’re sleeping in my room tonight.”

You didn’t protest. Just curled closer against him, eyes falling shut again as the motion of his footsteps rocked you softly, lulling you back to sleep. 

“Are you serious right now?” Sarah’s voice echoed faintly behind you. “She’s staying with you?”

But Rafe didn’t answer her. He didn’t even turn around. He just carried you upstairs like you were the most precious thing, and it was his work to protect you. And for him it was. From now on he promised himself to keep you close and safe. 

When the bedroom door clicked shut behind you, Rafe laid you down gently on his bed, tucking the covers around your body. 

You were half-asleep, but when you sensed him moving away from you, your hand caught his wrist as if on instinct.

“Stay.” You whispered, barely audible.

Rafe stilled, unsure if it was really what you wanted to. Then nodded, slow and reverent.

He climbed in beside you, not caring about changing his clothes or about the dried blood that caused him discomfort. If you wanted him, he couldn’t say no. The moment the mattress dipped under his weight, you rolled toward him instinctively, curling into the curve of his chest. His arms came around you without hesitation, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. 

Rafe didn’t fall asleep right away.

He laid there in the dark, listening to the soft sound of your breath and the quiet thrum of his own heart. Every now and then, he’d press the lightest kiss to your temple, not to wake you, just to remind himself you were real. That you were safe. That you were his.

[jaylalolz]

hi! can i request more jealous/possessive nicholas? perhaps with some making up?🥹

ty!!!

❛ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, Nicholas and his girlfriend get into a heated argument after he ignores her all night while out with friends, leading her to turn off her location and go out.

A/N, thanks for requesting!! hope u like it

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas knew he had messed up the second he walked through the door. His phone had been blowing up with unread messages, but he had ignored them—too caught up in the chaos of the night with his friends. She was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like she had been waiting for this confrontation all night.

“You couldn’t send one text?” she snapped as soon as he stepped inside, her voice sharp. “Not one?”

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I told you I was going out with the guys. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you disappeared! You didn’t answer my calls, didn’t respond to any of my texts. Do you know how that looks? Like you couldn’t care less.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Nicholas could feel his own frustration rising.

“I was just out having a good time. Why are you blowing this up into something bigger than it is?”

“Because you don’t get it!” She stood up, her voice getting louder. “You always do this. You vanish with your friends and act like I don’t exist for the whole night. It’s like I’m not even on your radar when you’re with them.”

Nicholas clenched his fists, feeling cornered. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… didn’t think it was that big of a deal to be off my phone for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Nicholas, it was the entire night! I was worried about you!”

She turned away, grabbing her bag and phone from the counter. Nicholas could see her fingers tapping at her screen, and his stomach twisted when he realized what she was doing.

“Seriously?” he asked, watching as she turned off her location. “You’re pulling this again?”

“If you can’t bother to text me back, then you don’t get to know where I am,” she said coolly, her eyes daring him to say something. Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving him standing there, frustrated and angry.

Hours passed, and Nicholas was left stewing, replaying the argument over and over. She had every right to be pissed, but the way she just shut him out like that, like he didn’t matter… it made his blood boil. He picked up his phone to check if she’d cooled off yet, but instead, he saw it—a new Instagram story.

She was at the club. Smiling. Laughing. And there, standing next to her, was some guy.

Nicholas’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew where she was. He wasn’t about to sit there while some random guy made her laugh like nothing had happened.

When he got to the club, it didn’t take long to spot her. She was leaning against the bar, talking to the same guy from her story. Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. She was doing this on purpose. She knew he’d see it, knew it would set him off.

Without a second thought, Nicholas pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on her. He reached her in a few quick strides, his hand gripping her arm, pulling her away from the guy before either of them knew what was happening.

“Nick, what the hell?” she protested, but he didn’t stop. He dragged her through the crowd, ignoring her complaints until they were outside in the humid night air. He didn’t let go until they reached his car, opening the passenger door with more force than necessary.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated, eyes flashing with defiance, but she got into the car, slamming the door behind her. Nicholas got in on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel to calm the storm inside him before turning to face her.

“You think that was funny?” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Turning off your location and posting that story, letting me see you with him?”

She glared at him, her arms crossed. “Maybe now you know how it feels when you disappear on me for a whole night.”

“That’s what this is about? Payback?” His voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I was out with my friends, but you—what? You run off to the club, posting stories, talking to random guys just to piss me off?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Nicholas,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But maybe I wanted you to notice. Maybe I wanted you to feel what I felt when you ignored me all night.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my attention,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.”

“Maybe if you actually paid attention to me, I wouldn’t have to find someone else to talk to.”

Nicholas’s temper flared, and without thinking, he reached out, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not rough. “You don’t need anyone else,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “I don’t want you talking to anyone but me.”

Her breath hitched, their faces inches apart now, the tension between them thick and charged. She tried to stay angry, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, the raw intensity in his eyes, that made her pulse quicken.

“You don’t get to ignore me and then act like you own me,” she said, her voice faltering slightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“I do own you,” Nicholas growled, his hand still gripping her waist. “You’re mine.”

For a moment, the air between them was heavy with everything they hadn’t said. The anger, the frustration, the possessiveness—it all tangled together in the space between their heated breaths.

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Nicholas’s lips crashed against hers, silencing whatever protest was about to leave her mouth. She resisted for half a second, but then she gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same fire.

The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by all the emotions they had been keeping bottled up. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, they were both breathing hard, the anger between them replaced by something rawer, something deeper.

“I hate it when you shut me out,” Nicholas murmured, his voice softer now, though still laced with possessiveness. “I hate it when you go to someone else.”

“I only do it because I’m scared you don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw, softer than before.

“I care,” he said firmly. “More than you know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they held each other. Eventually, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” she admitted softly.

Nicholas pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

They stayed like that for a while, their earlier argument forgotten, replaced by the certainty that, no matter how much they fought, they always found their way back to each other.

[mononijikayu]

ni yao de ai — ryomen sukuna.

“We saw you look up at your girlfriend after that game-winning spike. What was running through your head?” And Sukuna, grinning like a fool. “Ahhh, just hoping she’s proud of me, you know?” Then it became bigger and bigger. One after the other, he could not shut up. He was, after all, too damn in love. “Your girlfriend’s reaction went viral after your match. Do you watch those clips together?” And Sukuna, without missing a beat. “Hell yeah, we do. I send her all my favorite edits. Couple goals, you know?”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Volleyball! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Baby, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Volleyball Pro! Sukuna, Astrophysicist! Reader, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 6k words.

Note: i'm working on the actor nanami fic, so here is something for you to enjoy while you wait for that. also, i keep thinking about how sukuna would have been like pro-hero bakugo had he not been dating reader. like, he would be so good at volleyball, but he would be so eager to be blunt about absolutely everything and just be so crass, you know??? anyway, our sukuna managed to not be like that, cause he's #1 lover boy first. enjoy this!!! see you in a couple days!! i love you!!! <3

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THIS WAS NOT OUT OF THE ORDINARY NOWADAYS, FOR YOU TO SIT HERE. Your long-time boyfriend, professional volleyball player Ryomen Sukuna, has always been a bit of a big deal. Well, you try to not make it to be but you both know that it is.

He was undeniably talented, incredibly confident, and dangerously charismatic. But it wasn’t until this past year, when he officially made Japan’s national team and became their standout player, that his star practically exploded.

And with that… came you.

You didn’t ask for it at all. The attention, the headlines, the fan-cams. However, by virtue of loving Sukuna, you had become a fair bit of a participant in his stardom. And it wasn’t like Sukuna did it on purpose. 

Well, actually he kind of did. Because if there was one thing about your boyfriend, it was that he never shied away from publicly loving you. In fact, he leaned in. Hard.

And you?

You could never say no to him when he asked. Ever. Because you loved him as he is, and that includes loving you. And if supporting him meant occasionally being pulled into the spotlight alongside him. Well… you’d do it a million times over. That’s how much you loved him. 

It started small at first.

Little moments here and there.

Well, he tried to ease you into it.

Like when Sukuna played his first international match for Japan, and you sat quietly in the front row with his family. You thought you were being lowkey, just there to support your love. But the cameras caught you. Multiple times. Your face blown up on the jumbotron — smiling, proud, hands clasped in silent prayer every time he served.

Sukuna noticed you on the screen mid-game, and instead of ignoring it like any normal athlete would. And then he would go on and smirk. Then almost like he can’t help it, he winked at you. On live television. You damn near sank into the earth.

The clip instantly blew up on Twitter. 

Everyone on the internet lost its mind. 

Suddenly there were viral captions like:

“When the national team’s ace makes eye contact with his girl mid-game and winks?????”

“The way he’s SO unapologetically in love I’m crying.”

“The girlfriend has MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY I’m obsessed.”

And you? You just wanted to disappear.

Ryomen Sukuna, on the other hand, ate it up.

“You see how they love us, babe?” he grinned later that night, scrolling through TikTok edits of you two.

“My love, I was literally just sitting there.”

“Nahhh, you were the cutest girlfriend alive.”

“Stop watching the videos, I look like I was going to hurl because of nervousness.”

“Nope. I’m obsessed with us. Sorry, babe.”

But then it started escalating. Almost too quickly. The more Ryomen Sukuna won on the national stage. And the more the media realized he could not shut up about you. The more you started to become a topic. At first, it was small questions during post-game conferences.

“We saw you look up at your girlfriend after that game-winning spike. What was running through your head?”

And Sukuna, grinning like a fool. “Ahhh, just hoping she’s proud of me, you know?”

Then it became bigger and bigger.

One after the other, he could not shut up.

He was, after all, too damn in love.

“Your girlfriend’s reaction went viral after your match. Do you watch those clips together?”

And Sukuna, without missing a beat. “Hell yeah, we do. I send her all my favorite edits. Couple goals, you know?”

And suddenly you were trending on Twitter at every single match. 

People started calling you “Japan’s National Team Girlfriend”. 

There were TikToks like “POV: You’re dating an Olympic-level volleyball player and he’s obsessed with you”. Someone even made a fan account dedicated to you. Some people are making fan accounts about the two of you. It was just insane.

You were horrified about it.

You never expected this.

Sukuna, however, was thriving.

“Babe, you’re famous now.”

“I am just—this is crazy, my love. I didn’t think this for myself.”

“Too bad. You’re dating a national treasure. That makes you one too.”

“You're the only national treasure here, not me—”

“Wrong. We’re a package deal. We always have been, babe.”

“Well, fuck. Looks like I gotta know how to deal with this.” You sighed, leaning into the couch. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you so much.” He says, looking at you with those warm loving eyes. “Very much.”

You sighed, moving close to lean into him. “I love you too. Very much.”

And then, of course, came the Vogue interview soon after that.

Sukuna got asked to do a pre-Olympic feature for Vogue Japan. It was going to be a full-blown video interview and magazine spread to highlight him as the country’s volleyball superstar heading to his first Olympic Games. 

You didn’t think much of it at first—until Sukuna casually mentioned. “They wanna do a segment with you, too.”

You froze. “Wait. What?”

“Yeah, you know….like those….interviews we watch.” Sukuna said it, like it was the most casual thing. “Like a couples segment. You know. Cute shit.”

“Okay, but this is insane. I don’t think I’m good enough to be interviewed for a magazine like Vogue.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most beautiful and smartest person in the world, like the coolest. How could you not be in the magazines?”

“You’re just saying this cause you’re biased.”

“So?” He snickered, leaning closer to you like a cat to his owner. “Isn’t my opinion the only thing that matters?”

“My love, please—”

“Babe, come on. It’ll be fun. Just some quick questions. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Are you sure you want me there?”

“I always want you with me.” He whispers to you, eyes adoringly looking at you. Almost begging. “Please come with me.…I’ll make it worth your while later.”

You can’t say no to him. Not like this. Not ever. You sighed. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

And so, here you are now, right beside your boyfriend, in this studio.

The massive studio hummed with quiet energy. You could feel the subtle buzz of camera equipment, the low chatter of the production crew, and the muffled thuds of footsteps as people flitted around making last-minute adjustments.

Despite the growing tension in the room, there was one person who looked like he couldn’t be less bothered and that was Ryomen Sukuna himself. Your beloved Sukuna is now Japan’s top star volleyball player right now.

The man who was about to debut in his very first Olympic Games. And yet he sat there like he was in his living room, entirely unruffled by the cameras or the fact that the world was about to have their eyes glued on him.

To him, this was just like any other day. It was nothing special, nothing worth that much of a fuzz. It’s media day. Well, of course he was with you. That was always something that made him happy.

But the occasion in itself just as it was, like on all work days.

It truly did make sense for him to be like that.

After all, Sukuna had been through enough media circus for the past few years. With all the pre-game conferences, after-game interviews, constant media coverage during training camps.

By now, cameras had become like background noise to him. Even though he wasn’t the most camera-savvy person, he had long accepted that it came with the job. As much as you have.

Though, you know it was just still so insane. This level of fame was not something you expected to see. But well, what can you do? Your boyfriend is an ace at anything he does, and he always will be.

So here he was now, gold chain glinting under the bright studio lights, his long arm draped casually behind your chair as if he had all the time in the world. His thumb, rough, calloused from years of playing was tenderly brushed the curve of your shoulder absentmindedly, warm and familiar. His long legs were spread obnoxiously wide, his knee brushing against yours like it belonged there.

You, however, were fighting down a giggle like you did when you were both younger. It wasn’t fair how good he looked in front of the camera. Your Sukuna was in his official team Japan tracksuit, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed forearms.

His messy pink hair was styled back, just enough for his sharp jawline to be obnoxiously prominent and his signature smug grin made it look like he had already won gold before even stepping onto the court.

And then like he could feel you staring, Sukuna leaned toward you. 

You raised a brow as you finally noticed his ruby eyes tender on you.

“What? There something on my face?”

“Bet I can answer faster than you, babe.” His voice dropped low, just for you to hear, the gravel in his tone sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You snorted, glancing at him. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t embarrass me, my love.”

His grin sharpened, canines flashing. “No promises, babe.”

You groaned to yourself.

You were so screwed.

He’s competitive even on this.

The interviewer settles in her seat across from you both, a friendly smile on her face. “Alright, we’re rolling!” she calls out. “Let’s give them a warm welcome!”

The crew claps behind the camera and you and Sukuna stand up, quickly bowing your heads lowly to everyone in the room, greeting them politely one by one. The crew did the same, with eyes full of awe as they both looked at you two as you sat down.

“Alright, hello everyone!” the interviewer finally smiled, straightening in her seat. “We’re here today with Ryomen Sukuna, Japan’s powerhouse volleyball player heading to his very first Olympic Games — and we’ve got his longtime girlfriend, [Your Name], who is also a Astrophysics researcher joining us today!”

Sukuna perked up a little at that introduction, his grin widening. “Renowned, huh?” He turned to you, his voice dropping low, teasing. “Damn, babe. Are you that famous now, my baby?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting down a smile. “Says the Olympic athlete. Let’s not do this, please.”

The interviewer laughed. “We are so excited to have you both here. Thank you for making time despite your hectic schedules — especially you, [Your Name]. I imagine taking a break from Astrophysics research work isn’t easy?”

“Oh—” you started, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I really shouldn’t have gotten a break. I was actually supposed to have a research advisory today…”

Sukuna turned to you sharply, his brows raising. “Wait—what?”

You blinked. “…Huh, what?”

“You never told me that. I thought you just got permission.” Sukuna scoffed, his head tilting. “Babe, you really have a major advisory today? How the hell did you get off work?”

“Ohhh, yeah…” you cringed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah… funny thing about that.”

The interviewer’s interest piqued. “Oh?”

You hesitated and then bit back a smile. “So… My head researcher’s daughter is actually a huge fan of Sukuna. Like, borderline obsessed.”

Sukuna’s brows shot higher. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah.” you chuckled sheepishly. “And when they found out I was doing this interview with him, my boss was like, ‘Yeah, just get me his autograph and I’ll look the other way on you missing the advisory.’”

Sukuna immediately cackled. “Really? That’s damn hilarious.”

“Swear to god, it's crazy in there when it comes to you.” you laughed, sinking a little in your seat. “He told me, ‘If you get me a video of him saying hi to my daughter, I’ll even let you off the hook for the paperwork you forgot to pass last week.’”

“Babe.” Sukuna turned his entire body toward you, his grin practically ear-to-ear. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? That’s easy. Just give me a pen later—hell, I’ll record her a whole-ass personalized video.”

You scoffed, blushing. “Oh my god, no—you don’t have to do that much—”

“Nahhh, I gotchu, babe, don’t worry.” Sukuna grinned mischievously, already plotting. “I’ll make her dad look like a hero. Gonna be like: ‘Hey princess, your dad is the real MVP for letting your fave’s girlfriend skip work today to give you content.’”

You smacked his arm, mortified. “Oh my god, you are so insane.”

The production crew lost it almost immediately.

The interviewer covered her mouth, laughing.

“I’m serious!” Sukuna laughed, scarlet eyes crinkling. “You know how many brownie points that’ll get you at work? You could literally ghost them for a week and they’ll still cover for you.”

“Oh my god, stop—”

“And the paperwork you forgot?” Sukuna shot you a playful smirk. “I’ll just sign it with ‘Ryomen Sukuna’s girlfriend is a genius, give her a raise.’ Boom. Problem solved.”

“RYOMEN SUKUNA.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Sukuna raised his hands in surrender. “Just don’t call me that, okay? You know what my name is.”

The interviewer was crying. “I am so sorry, I can’t breathe—you guys are adorable.”

You slumped in your seat, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never living this down.”

Sukuna just laughed harder, his hand finding your thigh and giving it a warm squeeze. “Nah, you’re good, babe. I’ll make sure you’re employee of the month after this.”

The interviewer, trying to recover. “W-well! We really appreciate you being here, [Your Name]. Seriously. It's not every day we get a literal astrophysicist and an Olympic athlete in the same room.”

“Oh no, I should be the one thankful!” you stammered, still flustered from Sukuna’s antics. “Thank you for having me here with my love. Honestly, it’s such a privilege.”

Sukuna practically preened. “Her love. You guys heard that, right?”

You smacked his arm. “Oh god, don’t even start.”

“Too late, babe.” Sukuna grinned smugly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m riding that high all day. Like, that’s from the one I love right there. I’m riding this forever.”

“You can’t just—” You lower your face to your hands, feeling yourself warm. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t get embarrassed so fast!”

“I’m trying hard not to!”

The interviewer was now fully crying from laughing.

And you? You were about two seconds away from melting into the floor from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

You just can’t believe he’s like this today.

“So, uh, are you guys ready for some quickfire ten-second questions?” She asks as you finally recover, lifting your head.

Sukuna cracks his knuckles dramatically. “Easy. We’ve been together more than a decade or so. I can ace this.”

You scoff. “You’re gonna overthink everything.”

Sukuna feigns offense. “Excuse you? I’m very decisive.”

The interviewer laughs. “Alright, let’s put that to the test. First question: Sukuna, what’s your favorite pre-game meal?”

“Ramen.” he says instantly. Then, a beat later, “Wait. No. Her curry. Yeah, yeah. That one….the spicy one. Final answer.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you serious? I thought you hated it.”

He grins smugly. “It’s true. I loved it all. Took another plate after you left. Your food hits different, you know?"

You roll your eyes but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. “O–okay, I guess.”

The interviewer beams. “Cute. Okay, [Your Name], what’s his go-to post-game routine?”

“Oh, easy.” you say, straight-faced. “Complaining about his back. Then how he doesn’t like how Gojo Satoru took that line shot at him at a game. Take a ridiculously long, hot shower. He has a beer before we eat dinner. Then aggressively demands my cuddles.”

Sukuna sputters at you. “Aggressively?!”

You arch a brow. “You corner me in the kitchen. Every time.”

He throws his head back in a laugh, his large hand sliding to your knee. “Okay, fine. Fair point.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Alright, Sukuna — who’s the first person you call after a big win?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Her. Always her. And she picks up, even mid-experiment.”

Your chest tightens, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You’re too much.”

“Hey, I really do call you the most after every match.”

“And after a loss?” she presses.

Sukuna leans slightly toward you, his arm shifting so his hand now rests protectively on your thigh. “Also her. But I’m significantly more annoying.”

You snort. “So much pouting. He becomes, like, unbearable.”

Sukuna gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Unbearable?! I’m mourning, babe!”

“You’re sulking. Just like right now.”

“Same thing!”

The interviewer is practically doubled over laughing. “I love this dynamic. Okay, favorite thing about each other — go.”

Sukuna’s answer is immediate. “Her laugh. Hands down. Best sound in the world.”

Your heart lurches, face instantly heating. “Oh my god, shut up—”

“No, like dead serious, babe.” he interrupts, his smile softening. “Could be having the worst day ever, and if she laughs? I’m good.”

You smack his arm, your face now an embarrassing shade of red. “You’re being gross on camera!”

Sukuna shrugs, unbothered. “Truth is truth, babe.”

The interviewer melts. “Okay, your turn, [Your Name].”

You stammer, still flustered. “Uhh—” you scramble to think of something non-cheesy, but instead, your mouth betrays you. “The way he always warms his hands before touching my face.”

Sukuna freezes. “…Huh?”

You blink. “…What?”

“That’s your favorite thing?” he asks, blinking at you like you’d just dropped a bombshell.

You squirm. “I mean, yeah. You do it all the time. Like, even if we’re just watching a movie or something — you always warm your hands first. It’s cute.”

The grin that spreads across Sukuna’s face is devastating. “You’re so obsessed with me.”

You physically groan. “Oh my god, shut up.”

The interviewer is practically swooning. “This is the cutest thing ever—okay, okay, next one. Sukuna, if you could steal any skill from your girlfriend, what would it be?”

“Her patience.” he deadpans.

You burst out laughing. “What?”

“No, like actually, I really think you mastered it so much.” he insists, leaning forward. “You have no idea how insane she is at staying calm. Like, I’ll be losing my mind over a game or a bad practice, and she’ll just—” he waves his hand, mimicking your nonchalant demeanor, “‘Okay, babe, it’s fine. You’ll win next time.’ Like. What the hell? Where do you get that?”

You’re dying of laughter. “It’s called balance, my love.”

“It’s witchcraft.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Then learn it.”

He laughs at your words. “No, but I’m genuine about this. My girl can sit there and deal with a long day where her research yields bad results and do it again even though it takes long. And come home to me sulking and just know how to be just as patient.”

You looked at him, eyes full of love. “You’re so….I love you. Just a lot.”

He smiles back at you. “Love you too, babe.”

The interviewer sighed, whimsically. “I love you two so much. Okay, final question—and you both have to answer this.” She leans in dramatically. “What’s the very first thing you’ll do if you win gold at the Olympics?”

Sukuna’s cocky grin is instant. “Kiss her. On live TV.”

Your jaw drops “‘kuna, my love! Don’t just say that!”

“What?” he laughs, utterly shameless. “Manifesting, babe.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Your boyfriend snickers. “Yeah, you say that now but you’re gonna make out with me after this—”

“Oh my god, not here!”

The interviewer howls with laughter. “And what about you, [Your Name]?”

You glare at Sukuna but ultimately sigh in defeat. “I guess… I’ll let him.”

Sukuna beams, victorious. “See? Obsessed with me. You were lying earlier, hm? Saying you won’t and now here you are, you admit the truth. I am so vindicated.”

You slap his arm, but you’re grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, but I am your annoyance. That's my happy life right there, being loved by you like that.”

The interviewer shakes her head, still giggling. “I swear, if you actually win gold and kiss her on live TV, I’ll play this clip everywhere.”

Sukuna’s arm curls around your shoulder, pulling you in. “You better be ready, babe. I’m serious.”

And the terrifying part? You can already picture it. Because you know that he can do it. He can win it all just like that. You could see the gold medal around his neck, the camera zooming in, and Ryomen Sukuna turning straight to you with that same smug grin before sweeping you off your feet.

You purse your lips into a flat line, blushing. “Yeah, yeah…..I’m prepared.”

The interview finally wraps up there.

You’re still a little dazed. The cameras, the lights, the overly intimate questions about your relationship—but Ryomen Sukuna? He still looks happy, still completely unbothered. Like he lives for this. Which, you suppose, he does.

His arm never leaves your shoulder as you stand to shake hands with the Vogue team, his thumb still brushing absentminded circles against your skin. And just as you think you can finally slink away into the background, done with all the attention, Ryomen Sukuna pulls you right back in.

“Babe, c’mon.” he murmurs, his mouth brushing your temple. “Stay for the photoshoot.”

You blink. “What?”

“The shoot. They’re doing my Olympic feature photoshoot now.” He grins like he already knows how this will go. “Hang around for a bit.”

Your eyes narrow. “I thought this part was just you?”

“It is.”

“Then why do you need me here?”

“Moral support.” he says with a teasing smirk. “Also, you look really cute today, and I need you to stand there and be hot while I take photos.”

You gawk. “My love…..”

“What?” He shrugs, pulling you even closer as he starts walking toward the set. “I’m serious. Just stand off to the side, babe. I’ll behave.”

You have exactly zero trust in that promise. But you sigh and let him tug you along anyway. Because at the end of the day, you can’t say no to him. You never could. Not then and certainly not now. That’s just how much you loved the man.

So you do stay. But you try your hardest to stay out of the way. This is just for him, and only for him. You shouldn’t meddle. This isn’t for you. You do not want to get involved. So you make sure he sees you but sees you preoccupied, as you take food from the snack pile and coffee from the coffee machine.  

The photoshoot setup is expansive. There were grand lighting rigs, enormous backdrops, a team of stylists fussing over Sukuna’s hair and clothes. He’s already swapped his casual attire for his Japan national team uniform, crisp and iconic in its red and white.

And good god, you were stunned.

He looks obscenely good, even better than normal.

You were just hypnotized.

Like, you can definitely say that it's an actual deity-tier sort of beauty. Tall and lean, the muscles in his arms and thighs practically sculpted. His sharp features and dark tattoos look even more striking against the stark white backdrop. And the way he carries himself. It was that dangerous, unbothered confidence that had the photographers practically swooning as much as you were already.

You stand quietly off to the side, as you stuff yourself with snacks. You were doing your best to stay unnoticed and so far so good. But the moment Sukuna locks eyes with you from across the room, in the middle of his solo shoot, you already know you’re already fucked.

Because he grins. That stupid, sharp, predatory grin.

And you just know something is going to happen.

Because, you know that look on his face.

He’s about to pull some bullshit.

“Alright, Sukuna — tilt your chin up a bit. Perfect, perfect — can we get some more intensity in those scarlet eyes?”

He obliges easily, shifting his stance. For a few moments, you think you’re in the clear. Maybe he’ll actually behave. Maybe he’ll just get through his shoot without doing anything that would just throw you off your horses.

“Hey.” Sukuna suddenly calls out — loud enough for the entire set to hear. His gaze zeroes in on you. “Can she come here real quick?”

Your stomach drops.

The entire team turns to look at you.

Your soul leaves your body.

“I swear to god…..” you hiss, mortified. “No—”

“C’mon, babe.” he grins. “Just real quick. Just one picture.”

The photographer, looking intrigued, asks, “Wait — are you talking about her?”

“Yeah. Of course I’m talking about her.” Sukuna says smoothly. “That’s my girl.”

Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

You try to melt into the floor. “My love, no—”

“Babe, come on.” he says, mockingly sweet, “I thought you were here for moral support? Come on, just one picture. I won’t even ask them to include it in the spread.”

The team just absolutely loves what’s happening right now. They’re already whispering to each other, eyes lighting up with interest. One of the assistants, who was clearly a hopeless romantic, suddenly gasps, “Oh my god, can we get her in a couple of shots?”

“No, no, no you don’t have to.” you stammer, mortified. “I-I’m not part of the shoot—”

“You are now, babe.” Sukuna smirks, already striding over to grab your hand.

“My love, I’m not even— I didn’t sign anything—”

“Babe, relax.” he murmurs, tugging you right into the center of the set like it’s nothing. “You’re not doing a solo shoot. Just stand next to me. That’s it.”

The photographer, gleeful, immediately jumps in: “Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes. Let’s do a few couple shots. Just casual. We can get a few ‘power couple’ frames, I love this.”

“No, please, it’s not fair to you all or him.” you say, panicked. “It’s his shoot, I’m not supposed to—”

Sukuna grins down at you. “C’mon, babe. What’s one photo?”

You glare. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He tugs you even closer. “C’mon, let me show off my pretty girlfriend a little. Please?”

“…I hate you so much.”

The next twenty minutes are the most unhinged photoshoot of your life.

It starts simple. Ryomen Sukuna standing tall in his Olympic uniform, with you just casually next to him. He’s still smug and composed, while you try your best to look like you belong there. But then it escalates, as it always does with him.

“Can you put your arm around her waist?” the photographer asks.

Sukuna immediately complies, almost too gleefully, you might add, as he was pulling you flush against his side, his arm curling snug around your lower back.

“Actually, can you lean down and nuzzle into her neck a bit? Just natural intimacy.”

You really could feel your soul just saying a hail mary and saying goodbye for good. Your Sukuna doesn’t even hesitate. His mouth brushes your temple, his nose drags against your skin, and he actually whispers in your ear: “Told you you’d be in this shoot, babe.”

“I hate you so much, like a lot. Right now.” you grit, cheeks burning.

“You love me, a lot. I can tell.” he grins. “Like look at that bright eyed love!”

“Can we get one with her in front of him? Like, you know, back to his chest?” The director suddenly says.

You barely have time to react before Sukuna’s already wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. His long fingers splay warmly across your stomach, deliberately making the pose look far too intimate.

The camera shutter goes crazy.

And then—the final blow from the director:

“Okay, for the last shot—Sukuna, can you kiss her?”

Your brain explodes. “WHAT—”

“Ohhh, I think I can.” Sukuna drawls, thrilled. “Hang on.”

“I swear to god, you can’t just—my love!”

Too late for any arguments, he’s made up his mind. His hand slides up to your jaw, his thumb tilting your chin just slightly. And then, without a hint of shame, he leans down and kisses you. Right there. On the set. With the cameras flashing like crazy.

It’s not even a small kiss. It’s full and lingering. It’s passionate and hot and burning. It was the type of kiss that only belongs to you two. Yet you don’t push him away or pull away. Instead, you let his hand cup the edge of your face, his mouth molds against yours, and you feel his stupid grin against your lips.

The photographer practically screams. “Oh my god, that was too good! That was just perfect!”

You finally part from him. But it took you a bit before you were back down to earth from the spellbound trip to love. “You are so annoying, I swear!”

“Babe.” he says, smug as hell. “I think we just sold out this magazine issue.”

“I’m going to kill you, that was too passionate! That’s just for us—"

“Please. You’re gonna frame these photos later.”

“Ugh, no I won’t!”

“You so will.”

And when the photos do come out, everything just shifts in the world. The entire internet loses its mind over Japan’s national volleyball ace and his head-over-heels-in-love girlfriend like he always is, you realize, miserably, that Ryomen Sukuna was absolutely right.

Because you do, in fact, frame one of the photos.

Well, almost all the photos you got.

And what does Ryomen Sukuna do?

He never shuts up about it.

══════════════════

epilogue

The group chat video call came in less than five minutes after the interview aired. You barely had time to process the fact that the clip of you and Sukuna had already exploded on social media — like a firestorm-level viral. 

Your phone was pinging nonstop with texts, notifications, and Twitter mentions of people collectively losing their minds over “Astrophysicist GF x Olympic Athlete BF” like it was the rom-com of the century. Like it was the most important trope out there.

And just when you thought you could quietly crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment…

Incoming Video Call: “Menaces + Nanami (we tolerate him)”

“Oh my god no—”

“Babe, answer it!” Sukuna grinned, already stretching his long arm to grab your laptop. “I need to see what they’re about to say.”

“Sukuna, I’m literally not ready for this shit—”

“You’re literally adorable, babe. Don’t worry!” Sukuna smirked, already clicking Accept. “Let me enjoy my W.”

The call connected. Chaos immediately erupted.

Gojo Satoru (Camera OFF): “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

Geto Suguru (Camera ON):

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

Nanami Kento (Camera ON):

“…Are you all seriously screaming?”

Itadori Yuuji (Camera ON):

“BROOOOOO THEY WENT SO HARD IN THAT INTERVIEW OH MY GODDDD!”

Fushiguro Megumi (Camera ON, Visibly Unamused):

“…I’m logging off.”

Gojo Satoru (Camera ON, Appearing Out of Nowhere):

“NO YOU’RE NOT, MEGUMI— OH MY GOD YOU TWO WERE INSANE.”

You immediately face planted onto the table, groaning. “Kill me. Just kill me now.”

“Babe, why? You were really cool!” Sukuna laughed, wrapping an arm around you. “This is literally my proudest moment.”

“Oh my god, this is just so—” You groaned.

“Bro. Bro, oh my god.” Itadori was crying. “Sukuna. The way you said ‘Her love. You guys heard that, right?’ I— I fell off my couch cheesing, bro. You haven’t changed!”

“RIGHT?!” Gojo practically screeched. “And then he was going like ‘I’ll get you employee of the month, babe.’ I almost died! This was so—I can’t even explain it!”

Sukuna was thriving. His grin stretched wide, his canines flashing. “Ayyyeeee, you finally got it Gojo! You got someone, so you understand right? You see how I held her down? Boyfriend of the year.”

“You really are, bro!”

“My love, stoppppp!” you wailed dramatically.

“Nah, babe. Let me cook from boyfriend to husband!”

“Okay but REAL TALK. [Your Name]. Explain to me why your head researcher just casually let you off work because his daughter’s a fan of Sukuna.Also, how the hell are there fans of Sukuna?” Geto Suguru says as he munches on his popcorn.

“Taking offense to that last part, Geto.”

“Hahaha, I don’t care!”

You groaned harder. “I really don’t know. But it worked. I mean, people are asking me for Sukuna’s autographs for their kids at the research facility.”

“No, cause that’s wild, actually.” Suguru laughed. “Your literal superior was like, ‘Get me his autograph and you can skip work.’ That’s insane. I wish I could do that.”

“Well you could had you gone to the same research dept as me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna work there. Your deadlines are crazy.”

“Hey, my influence is really good for her right now!” Sukuna grinned, leaning into you smugly. “I’m basically her office’s MVP. They should name a telescope after me, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s not what I'm working on right now! That’s the other team!”

“Eh, same thing.”

“The Ryomen Sukuna Space Observatory, nice ring to it.” Gojo said dreamily. “Iconic.”

“Guys, really.”

“I would like to formally request to be excluded from this narrative.” Nanami Kento deadpans as he puts away his paperwork.

“Oh shut up, Kento. Are you still acting tsundere after all this time?” Gojo cackled. “You enjoyed it.”

“No. I did not.”

“Then why’d you text me ‘how did Sukuna–san improve in comedy? he’s hilarious.’ right after it aired?”

Nanami froze. “I did not do that—”

“YOU DID TOO!” Itadori gasped loudly. “I saw the receipts, senpai. You can’t just lie about that!”

“Lies.”

“Don’t deny it!”

“I will deny it, there’s no proof.”

“…Sukuna–senpai, I have to say, you being in love still after all this time really made me cringe.”

Gojo Satoru lost it. He almost fell off his chair, laughing. “That’s so—what the, that’s so—”

“See? People do cringe when you go lovey-dovey!” You tease him, and then laugh as you lean against him. 

“Wow, didn’t know that’s your true feelings about me, babe.” Sukuna scoffed, faking offense as he playfully rolled his eyes. “No love for the Olympic boyfriend, huh?”

“You sounded like a sickeningly in love golden retriever, and it was disturbing.”

Sukuna snorted. “If I still had the privilege to order you one hundred laps, I would.”

“Hm, but you don’t.”

“All because you’re jealous. How’s your date yesterday? Bad like last time?”

Megumi recoiled like he’d been shot. “Senpai, that’s so—”

“Nahhh, I get it, Megs. Cause I’d be mad too if I was third-wheeling greatness like this, while I’m waiting on Cupid to give me luck.” Sukuna gestured grandly to you and himself. “It’s hard out here.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be mad, bro. Just manifest your own [Your Name].”

“I swear to god, senpai.”

“Again, manifest. Hell, I’ll even help you. My sister’s into you—”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay but can we talk about how senpai just easily offers the autograph AND the video like it's nothing?” Yuuji enthusiastically says, smiling from ear to ear.

“REAL! Like, this is so crazy. ” Gojo gasped. “He just casually said ‘I’ll make your boss look like a hero, babe.’”

“Bro is so down bad, man.” Geto snickers, drinking his beer. “Everyone’s losing their shit everywhere.”

“And then he was like, ‘yeah don’t worry, I’ll help sign your paperwork.’’” Yuuji grows louder, more enthusiastic than before. “I can’t believe people are seeing it more closely like this. You’re a lucky lady, senpai!”

“Yeah, who can say they have such a long loving thriving relationship, no?” Gojo teases, as he leans on the screen. “LIke, people are jealous!”

“Guys, please!” you howled, your head hitting the table as your face turned scarlet. “PLEASE STOP—”

“SU-KU-NAAAAA–SENPAIIIIII!” Yuuji screamed, clapping. “You’re built differently, man. This is why you’re not bitchless!”

“This is why you follow in my footsteps, Itadori.” Sukuna laughs proudly. “You will only end your suffering if you follow me. That goes for you, Nanami, Fushiguro.”

“No thanks.” Nanami and Fushiguro say, almost at the same time.

“Nah, cause now that I think about it….my girl’s gonna expect me to do well too, Sukuna.” Gojo says, rubbing his chin. “That’s such a cruel move, Sukuna!”

“Hey, I love my girl as easily as breathing.” Sukuna raises his beer can, like cheers. He grins. “Good luck. I’m here if you need tips.”

“…The fact that this interview is already at 4 million views is baffling.” Nanami whispers as he looks at his phone. “It was just released an hour ago.”

Your head snapped up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh yeah, it’s viral now.” Megumi deadpanned. “It’s already trending. Twitter’s obsessed with you two.”

“Yup, yup.” Itadori confirmed. “Hashtag ‘Astrophysicist GF x Olympic Athlete BF’ is number one right now.”

“YOU’RE LYING.”

“Dead serious.”

“My love.” you whirled on him, horrified. “What did you do?”

Sukuna, entirely unbothered: “Won.”

“Bro, people are literally shipping you two like it’s a Netflix rom-com.” Gojo snickers, sighing. “I want mine to be like that.”

“Right?” Suguru agreed. “And they’re already calling you ‘The only loverboy to ever loverboy’ which is kinda crazy to say about Ryomen Sukuna.”

Yuuji sighed. “But it fits, don’t you think? He loves his girl.”

Sukuna beamed. “As they should.”

You were spiraling. “I can’t go back to work like this. They’re gonna tease me—”

“No, babe, you’re good.” Sukuna said smugly. “You literally got immunity. They’re too obsessed with me now.”

“OH MY GODDDD.”

“…So when exactly did you two sign up for a publicized rom-com?” Nanami asks.

“Bro, right?” Gojo laughed. “Next thing you know Sukuna’s proposing on live TV after winning gold.”

Sukuna gasped dramatically. “Wait. That’s fire, actually.”

“Hey, don’t you dare!” you screamed.

“Imagine it, though!” Gojo egged on. “He wins gold. Camera zooms in. Sukuna pulls you onto the court. Boom. Proposal.”

“Don’t give him ideas, Gojo Satoru!”

Geto cackles. “Nah, once you give Sukuna ideas and he likes it, he’s not gonna change his mind.”

“Write that down, bro!” Itadori gasped.

“Oh, I will!” Sukuna grinned.

“Ryomen Sukuna, I swear to god—”

“Hey, hey, slow down. That’s not my name.”

“I’m not stopping until you say you won’t do that.”

“Here me out, let me cook on this idea, like this is a really good idea. Come on!”

“No!”

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Family Expansion

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: none

Bea series continues

After Bea was born, you and Carlos both knew you didn't want to stop at just one child. You wanted to have at least three, although you didn't know that one little girl like Bea would be such a handful.

Bea is a little girl with character, very attached to both of you and especially to Carlos. Since Bea was already three years old, you didn't want there to be a big age difference between her and the second child, so you decided to start trying for another baby.

About three weeks ago when Carlos came back from the race in Singapore you welcomed him in your home with a pregnancy test in your hands and his eyes started to water with how happy he was. Since that night he couldn’t keep his hands off you and your stomach. He loved being a dad and he was the best at it. Bea was his whole world (and you of course), and the fact that he will have another little being with you sent him over the moon.

Anyway, tonight is the night you decided to break the news to Bea, explain to her in the simplest possible way that she is going to be a big sister. You were very nervous about it because you didn't know how she would react, and Carlos found it funny that you were afraid to tell a three-year-old that you were pregnant.

“Don’t laugh, Carlos! It’s not funny at all.” You sigh crossing your arms and looking away from him.

“Mi amor, you’re overreacting. I don't know why you keep thinking that another baby in the family will upset her.” He says placing a hand over your stomach and gently rubbing it.

“Well, that is exactly why! She will no longer be an only child and you know what our daughter is like. Very possessive, especially about you, and she likes all the attention to be focused only on her.”

“Baby, we have to tell her sooner or later. We might as well tell her sooner so we can start talking to her about it more often and start getting her used to the change.”

You sigh running your hands over your face then through your hair.

“Hey, look at me” Carlos says taking your chin between his fingers making you look at him. “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t overthink this so much, she’s just a kid. Even if she doesn’t understand some things now that’s okay because she’s not supposed to. We’re in this together, always.”

“You’re right” You say leaning your head against his chest and he places a kiss on top of your head. “I’m sorry I’m making such a big deal out of this.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna go get her from her room.” He says getting up and leaving you on the couch in the living room.

While you were waiting for Carlos to come back with Bea, you thought that maybe you were exaggerating a bit, that you were making a bigger deal out of it than it actually was. Maybe Bea will be overjoyed to have a best friend for life. Maybe she will enjoy sharing everything with the new baby.

But then again, you knew your daughter very well to know that Bea doesn’t share things.

“Mama!” She exclaimed happily reaching out to you from Carlos' arms.

“Hey, baby” You smiled taking her in your arms. She sat in your lap wrapping her tiny arms around you and leaning her head on your chest. “Did you play with the new kitchen that daddy got you?”

“I did”

“What did you cook today, hm? What did chef Bea make for dinner?” You asked her.

“I..I made a soup. And a chicken. And potato.” She explained, counting on her fingers.

“Good job, baby.” You smiled kissing the tip of her nose.

“Okay, princesa, mommy and daddy have something to tell you, okay?” Carlos started and your heart rate increased. He took her from your lap and seated her between the two of you on the couch.

“Okay”

“Remember how we used to talk about having a baby brother or a baby sister for you?” Carlos asked her moving her curly hair out of her face.

“No” She simply said.

You and Carlos quickly both looked at each other and clamped your mouths shut to keep from bursting out laughing right at the start.

“Ay, nena no digas que no.” (Baby, don’t say no) He says pinching her nose. “Well, mommy has a baby in her belly. You’re going to be a big sister.”

He put his hand over your stomach and you put yours over his. Bea’s eyes just followed your movements without saying a word. Her expression was unreadable, but you could tell she wasn't thrilled with the news .

“How does that sound, mi amor?” Carlos asked her trying to snap her out of her thoughts.

And just like that hr lower lip started to twitch and she started to cry. She opened her mouth and cried inconsolably. You looked at Carlos and mouthed “I told you so” and threw your head back sighing.

He quickly took her in his arms and started rubbing her back as she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“Bea, don’t cry, bebe” He tried. “You’re going to have so much fun with the baby brother or baby sister. You’re always going to have someone to play with, maybe share a room together. Isn’t that so much fun?”

“I-I don’t-” She sobbed. “Don’t need it”

“It's not a matter of whether you need it or not. Mommy and Daddy want you and another baby. You will still be our little girl, forever, only we will have one more baby.” He was choosing his words carefully making sure to include her in every sentence that left his mouth.

Once she calmed down a bit and stopped crying she said “But-but I wanted an ice cream, not a baby brother or a baby sister”

Both you and Carlos laughed squeezing your eyes shut at her nonchalant statement.

“How about you get an ice cream and a baby brother or a baby sister?” Carlos asked her.

She took some time to think and soon agreed to the proposal. “Okay..”

“Entonces tenemos un trato, si?” (Then we have a deal, yes?) He hugged her tightly kissing her cheek and she nodded her head yes. “Go get your shoes because I’m taking my girls out for an ice cream right now.”

“Can we get a puppy too?” Bea asked.

“Well..” Carlos laughed looking at you.

“Carlos!” You warned him with your eyes knowing that he has trouble saying no to his favorite girl.

“We’ll see about that, let’s get some ice cream first”

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

snapdragons mean i'm sorry

summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine

You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store. 

Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life. 

Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours. 

Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend. 

You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room. 

When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.” 

You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.

Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family. 

The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out. 

Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks. 

After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind. 

Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway. 

“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?” 

“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it. 

You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see. 

You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.   

“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets. 

If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”

“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”

You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?” 

“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter. 

“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of. 

“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice. 

“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.” 

“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.” 

Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.” 

“You love her.” 

“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.” 

You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal. 

He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.  

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks.  You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled. 

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

“I have to know.” 

He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.” 

You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.” 

“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” 

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Big Guy Big Belly

König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.

At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave. 

Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first.  König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later. 

He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.

Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, König included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.

It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.

See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.

Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.

If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.

The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?

But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.

He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.

All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.

[yieldtotemptation]

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[eufezco]

just a little fluff + angst scenario i wrote because we don't have enough content of logan x reader looking after laura and the three of them forming a family.

english isn't my first language. marvel masterlist <3

—laura, go back to the couch —. logan grunted.

she had opened the door to your room and her head was peeking out. her big brown eyes stared at you. you were in bed, tucked in, waiting for logan to lie down next to you. the dim light from your bedside table was the only thing lighting up the room.

—don't make me tell you again, kid.

—it's fine, lo —. you grabbed his arm and stopped him as he was going to the door to close it. logan huffed. —is everything okay, laura? —you sweetly asked the little girl.

she simply stood in the doorway, biting the inside of her cheeks. laura looked at your bed, if logan lay down there wasn't much more space left but if you squeezed in a little bit maybe she could… logan called your name and shook his head. the little girl looked at you from the door with big dark eyes, glossy with exhaustion and decorated with small dark circles underneath them.

the night before logan and you woke up to her screams. you ran to the living room, followed by him, both scared that the men who wanted to hurt her might have entered your house. but laura was having a nightmare. when you knelt next to the couch and shook her gently to wake her up, she pulled out her claws in panic and cut you on the arm.

you hissed, watching as the blood began to run down your arm. she was more terrified by what she just did than you were.

it's okay, i'm okay, laura. look, it's nothing. are you okay? were you having a bad dream?

the girl nodded to your questions, her eyes could only stare at your arm, bleeding nonstop. logan knelt next to you and grabbed your arm to take a better look. he then looked at the girl, you could see on his face that he was angry. you put your other hand on top of the one he had holding your arm. i'm okay you assured him. his expression relaxed when he realized that with your eyes you were asking him not to blame laura. he walked you to the kitchen to clean your wound and then covered it with a bandage.

it wasn't her fault, lo. you told him and he looked at you in disbelief. he went to your room without saying a word to laura and you kissed her forehead after tucking her in. no matter how much you assured her that you were fine and that it had been an accident, laura didn't sleep at all that night, thinking that she had hurt one of the two people who cared about her the most.

but this night she was at your door as you looked at logan with your lips pressed together. he called your name again. —don't —. he spoke firmly. but how could you say no to the little one? she hadn't asked you anything yet you knew exactly what she wanted.

there was a few seconds of silence.

—you wanna sleep here? —you finally asked.

laura nodded and logan grunted. she was quick to enter the bedroom and close the door behind her. she was wearing a t-shirt of logan's that she almost dragged on the floor. she liked his t-shirts better because they were bigger and she could curl up in them while sleeping.

she went to lie down between the two of you but logan was quicker and took her place. laura huffed and you rolled your eyes. it was like dealing with two small children. but there was no way he was going to sleep apart from you, not even separated by an eleven-year-old girl.

laura ended up curling up next to you in bed and before turning off the light, you made sure that she was well covered by the blankets. she subtly moved closer to you, hiding her head in your chest, and she did not take more than five minutes to fall asleep. you didn't take long to fall asleep either, following the girl's deep breathing and playing with her hair.

the next morning logan was the first to wake up. your back was against his chest, one of his arms was hugging you against his body. well, one of his arms was hugging you both against his body. his arm not only reached you but laura too, who lay with her back against your chest as you hugged her from the back.

as he went to get up to make breakfast, he felt how some small fingers closed around his big ones and kept him from getting out of bed. he looked at the little girl sleeping peacefully, letting you be her big spoon while she held logan's fingers tightly in her hand.

he lay next to you on the bed again, he could afford to stay there a little longer just to spend some more time with his two girls.

[mrsbarnesblog]

for you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.

Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘

Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 

He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.

“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 

“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”

“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“

Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 

“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 

“I said that she looked fuckable.” 

It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 

Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 

Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 

You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 

You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 

“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 

“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 

“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 

Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 

Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 

Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 

“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 

“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”

“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 

“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 

As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 

“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.

“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 

“Is that so?” She looked at you. 

“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 

“Liar.” 

“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 

“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 

“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 

“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 

“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 

“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 

“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 

“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 

“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 

“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”

“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 

Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 

When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.

“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 

“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.

“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”

“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 

"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 

“I thought she hated me.” 

You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 

“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 

Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”

“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 

“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 

“Then I'll let you do it.”