#that i saw this live that i waited for this day to day

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | PROLOGUE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the handsome kook that came crashing into your life.. quite literally. it’s hard to think that at one point you and rafe didn’t know one another, especially since you two have spent every passing day together for the last four months.

WARNINGS: drug use, driving under the influence, reckless driving, rafe arguing with ward, descriptions of a mild injury, mentions of addiction and sobriety, blood, reader tends to rafe’s wounds, fluff, opposite of slowburn, forced proximity (?), time skip (from four months ago to the current day), slight angst

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhhhh!! it’s finally here, and i couldn’t be more excited to share this with all of you!! all feedback is deeply appreciated <3 feel free to ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!

LINKS: series masterlist | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

rafe set a new record for himself tonight, and he wasn’t proud of it. not only did he lose count of the lines he snorted off of topper’s coffee table, he also had ward blowing up his phone. “aye, man, i don’t think you should be driving.” topper slurred, downing the alcohol in his glass. cleaning the residue from his nose, rafe shook him off, stumbling through the crowd of people in the living room before hopping in his truck and peeling out of the packed street.

jaw ticking, rafe cursed to himself when his phone started ringing, ward’s contact lighting up the screen. “i’m going home already, alright? yes— yes, dad! i know we have a meeting with some investors in the morning.. what? no i’m not fuckin’ high!” he rambled on, feigning offense when his father called his bluff. “just stop— i know, okay? i’ll be there in a minute—” before rafe could finish his sentence, he took a sharp turn, swerving onto the curb before hitting a light pole.

you were locking up the icecream parlor when you heard the high pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, a loud crash making you jump from your spot in front of the door. spinning on your heels, your eyes widened when you saw a black truck just feet away from the main street, smoke billowing from under the hood. unsure of what to do, you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but of course, the strip was always empty at this time of the night.

“son of a bitch!” you heard someone groan before they tumbled out of the front seat, falling face down against the concrete. you gasped, dropping your purse before running across the street. “are you okay?!” you helped the stranger sit up, wincing when you saw blood dripping from his nose. he stared at you wide eyed, his pupils blown as you kneeled in front of him. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” you reassured him, slipping off your cardigan before holding it against his nose. you noticed the open gash on his brow, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes soften. “we really need to get you to the emergency, do you have a phone?” rafe shook his head, leaning back against the tire of his truck. “no. well, yes, i have a phone.. somewhere.. but i can’t go to the emergency, not like this.” just then, rafe felt a sharp pain shoot up to his temple from his neck.

“yes, like this! you’re all scraped up.” you said incredulously. “no, i mean i’m not sober.” as if he was waiting for you to judge him, rafe watched as your expression didn’t falter. “i promise you, going to the emergency and getting help from a professional is a lot more better than not going at all. your truck can always be replaced; you can’t.” your words lit a fire in his chest, the sincerity in your tone making him crack a pained smile.

“i’ll go to jail for this, and i just can’t do that right now. i have to be somewhere in the morning, my dad will kill me if he finds out..” remembering that he was on the phone with ward before he crashed, he scrambled up to find the device, only to groan and plop back down on the street. still holding the pink cardigan to his head, you guided his hand to hold it for you. “what are you looking for? i can try to find it.” rafe let out a shaky breath, mumbling “my phone.” before you got up and spotted it near the tire.

turning it over, you held it up for him to see. it was completely shattered. “i don’t think it’s going to work..” you handed it to him, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “what the fuck?” he breathed out, holding his head in his hands. you’ve never seen someone look so defeated before, your feet moving on their own before you could think. “do you think you can walk? my place is only five minutes away.” rafe looked up like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

“your place?” he repeated, half shocked and half confused as to why you’d offer him help. “yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours, “i don’t have a phone there, but i can at least get you cleaned up..” rafe tried to weigh out his options, only to realize he didn’t have any. “are you sure?” he was truly at your mercy. “yes. here— just keep holding this to your head, let me go get my purse and we can be on our way.” you left him with your cardigan, running across the street and grabbing your bag before getting him up.

“i’m a lot stronger than i thought.” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood as you wrapped one of rafe’s arms around your shoulders. “fuck, what about my truck?” rafe leaned his weight on you, nearly making you topple over before you took a step. “someone will find it and call a tow, you could call the towing company tomorrow,” you explained to him, “do you have anything valuable in there?” rafe laughed, shaking his head. “just my piece of shit phone that has no value now.” he grunted, walking with a slight limp.

“hey, uhm, what’s your name?” rafe looked down at you, both of you sharing a glance before he looked away. despite him not being in the right state of mind, there was no doubting how insanely pretty you were. “y/n.. and yours?” why on earth were you getting butterflies right now? “rafe.” was all he replied before he started asking you an abundant amount of questions. rafe learned a lot about you in the short five minute walk to your camper. what you did for a living, where you currently worked for some extra money, what your hobbies consisted of.. along with being a pogue.

“so.. you live all alone in this pink camper in the middle of the woods? aren’t you scared some psycho will come across it and want to know who’s inside?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “a psycho?” you flashed him a playful smile, “like you?” rafe watched as you unlocked the small screen door, a chuckle threatening to slip from his throat. “i would laugh if it didn’t feel like i had a thousand needles stabbing me in my brain right now.” he swallowed thickly, accepting the hand you offered him to step in.

he was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cake and vanilla frosting. he loved it. “i know it’s really small in here, but you could just take a seat right there on that little couch and i’ll go get my first aid kit.” rafe did as you said, eyes darting around your space. pink florals, white lace trim, usually he’d be irked by this kind of decor, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t mind it this time. rafe leaned back on the soft sofa, settling into the cushions while you scrambled for the little first aid kit somewhere in your bathroom.

spotting the small box on your little shelf, you grabbed it before making your way back to where rafe was sitting. he opened his eyes momentarily, finding you even more pretty now that darkness didn’t surround you two. he kept his gaze on you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “sorry about this..” rafe took the pink cardigan away from his head, the fabric now stained with blood. “oh, don’t worry about it,” you smiled, “you needed it more than i did.”

pressing a damp cloth to his nose, rafe groaned when you applied the slightest bit of pressure. “i’m sorry!” you pouted, taking a seat next to him. rafe reassured you he was alright, a groan leaving his lips as he clutched his stomach. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you lifted his shirt, your eyes widening at the sight. he was scraped and bruised, a small wound adorning his lower abdomen. “here, lets get this off.” you pulled rafe’s t-shirt over his head, both of your cheeks heating at the compromising position.

“we could stop if this is too weird for you—” you shook your head, taking an ice pack out of your freezer. “no, it’s okay.” you pressed the cold bag to his skin, still wiping away the dried blood on his face. “i’m not sure how far you live, but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk anywhere.” your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound of it soothing rafe more than any kind of medicine he could take right now. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine.” rafe watched your fingers dance across his stomach, your nails sparkling underneath the dim lighting of your camper.

you thought for a moment. “i guess what i’m trying to say is; i think you’re better off staying the night here..” you trailed off, meeting his gaze, “you’ll be able to get to a phone in the morning and call whoever you need to. you should just get some rest right now.” rafe was stunned. you wanted him to stay? “i don’t know..” he sounded uneasy, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t help but feel like he was imposing. “it’s okay, i swear! you could take my bed since there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep on this little thing.”

“no, no way, i’m fine with sleeping on the floor.” you smiled at him, eyes flickering down to his lips. “no, really, it’s okay…?” you trailed off, unsure of what to call him since you didn’t know his name. “rafe.” he answered. “rafe,” he liked the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue, “i’ve fallen asleep plenty of times over here, i’ll be fine on the couch.” you got up, wringing out the towel you were using to clean him up. “i just have one rule, though,” rafe held the ice pack to his stomach, humming as you grabbed some ointment and a couple of bandages.

“you can only lay in my bed if you’re clean.. and you need a shower.” the corner of rafe’s lips quirked. “if you want to see me naked all you have to do is ask.” you blinked, pushing his chest softly. “that’s not what i meant.” you giggled. “i’ll get you a change of clothes, just get in there for right now.” rafe was already too far in to look back. getting up with your assistance, you guided rafe to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. “there’s clean towels and wash rags on the shelf!” you called from the kitchen, yawning as all of tonight’s events started to catch up with you.

rafe didn’t know what to make of all of this. one minute he was high out of his mind, crashing into a light pole with his dad on the phone, and the next he was inside some gorgeous girl’s camper getting tended to before using a strawberry scented body wash in her shower. what the fuck was his luck? taking his time in the shower, rafe thought about how he’d explain everything to ward tomorrow, from the towed truck to the cuts and bruises.

he wondered if ward would even care.

by the time rafe was done, he was stepping out of the bathroom smelling like a slice of strawberry cake with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he glanced over at the couch, your back facing him as you slept soundlessly. moving aside the pink curtain that concealed the doorway to your room, rafe slipped into the sweatpants you left out for him, settling underneath your silky soft sheets shortly after.

how was it that you just happened to be the only person around when he crashed? how did he crash right in front of where you worked? and why were you being so nice to him? rafe had so many questions and couldn’t think of any logical answers. he didn’t believe in fate, but looking back on it, that seems to be the only explanation. the next day he woke up to his clothes freshly washed and wearable again, your music playing softly in the kitchen. “good morning!” you chirped, your hair and makeup already done for the day.

“hey..” rafe was still shirtless, his eyes following your every move. “what time is it?” he took a seat at the little booth by the wall, his head no longer pounding the way it did last night. “it’s about to be ten. i was debating if whether or not i should’ve woken you up earlier, but you really needed to sleep.” you leaned back against the counter, admiring the handsome man in your camper. “your wallet should also be with your clothes there on that chair,” you started, “..so i was thinking; the little store just right outside of these woods has a pay phone that you can use.”

rafe nodded. “yeah, that sounds good.” he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up without wanting the day to be over with already. “hey, listen— uhm, i owe you a huge one for everything you’ve done for me.. i apologize if it was an inconvenience in any way, but i really do appreciate you.” rafe got up, grabbing his wallet from your room. “here. please take it.” you looked down at the hundred dollar bills tucked between his fingers, shaking your head as you moved his hands away.

“absolutely not.” you laughed. “no, please, take it.” rafe got closer, opening one of your palms before closing it around the bills. “rafe, i don’t want it!” you backed away, “i’m serious.” rafe let out a sigh. he already knew how this would go, so instead of urging you to keep it, he placed the money on your dresser after he was done changing. “well i guess i’ll be leaving now.” you masked the disappointment on your face by offering him a smile. “yeah, i guess so..” without saying a word, you and rafe stared at each other before he wrapped his arms around you, the action giving you butterflies.

before you could say or do anything, he pulled away and left, leaving your camper feeling more emptier than usual. you walked over to the door where you watched him walk away until you couldn’t see him anymore, a pout on your lips as you did so. while you were sure that you would more than likely never see him again, you couldn’t be more wrong. that day was the first of approximately one hundred and twenty one days, and counting, that you two would spend together. rafe came back to you the next day with a brand new pink cardigan to replace the other one you so selflessly let him ruin.

one icecream date turned into several, which then progressed into him coming over to your place with an overnight bag, his very own toothbrush now taking a spot next to yours. which then led to him picking you up and dropping you off at work, and so on until he finally said that you were his. you two spent the entire summer underneath the trees, rolling around in the grass as you two gasped each other’s names into your mouths, sharing sweet kisses and an even sweeter love that continued to grow with no intentions of ever stopping.

rafe had gotten sober out of fear that he wouldn’t remember what a love like this felt like if he was high all the time, and without judgement, you were there with him every step of the way. you stayed by his side when he felt like all hope was lost, and for that he could never thank you enough. although ward wondered where rafe would go off to, he didn’t bring himself to care as long as he was doing what he needed to do for the family business. with his dad off of his back, and you to come ‘home’ to everyday, he could say that he was truly happy.

even now as you two sat in your favorite diner, sharing a milkshake and laughing at whatever the other was saying, you felt no worries when you and rafe were together, your heart threatening to burst at the seams everytime you looked at him. everything was perfect.. at least for now. all good things must come to an end, and when you two are threatened by none other than ward himself, the love bubble you two have been mindlessly floating in is suddenly popped.

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @archiveofvirtue @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @ankoluvly @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine

[formulamar]

puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1

max verstappen x vet!yn

fc: girls from pinterest

summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?

vetyn

liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others

vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗

210 comments

ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐

vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄

ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!

albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?

vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾

albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭

rumorhasitf1

liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨

Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?

531 comments

maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect

30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭

rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!

dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!

vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒

verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ

maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU

frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx

jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...

maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...

twitter

vetyn’s story

translation: “new client”

twitter

vetyn

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others

vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)

it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘

245 comments

lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)

vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)

alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.

char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭

ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝

liked by vetyn

alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️‍🔥

vetyn: merci belle 🥰

albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓

liked by vetyn

ynfriend: so proud!

roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN

vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!

russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????

ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets

ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸

liked by vetyn

rumorhasitf1

liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others

rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀

1,034 comments

rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO

maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????

butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king

maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era

hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing

hamstappen: just kidding hehe

rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP

vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak

30three: and Max is sleeping soundly

sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....

justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too

username: wait who

maxielno1: his ex

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others

maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?

23,672 comments

redbullracing: 🦁

rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun

maxisfast: 😭

maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰

f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌

vetyn: mega! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: 😘💙

albono33: YN?

rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....

30three: so proud of you! 🧡

verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!

vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉

martingarrix: Mate how was the club?

maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂

f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥

somedutchguy: LEGEND

twitter

vetyn's story

to be continued..

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐

[gamerexdrex]

The last thing you wanted after the end of a work day was to stare down at the barrel of a gun.

Your roommate, , sighs.

"You know, it has been fun living here with you, i could even pretend I was a normal person for a bit."

Their grip in the gun tightened, yet you could see a tinge of regret in their otherwise stoic expression.

"I'm sorry"

Faced with the inevitability of death, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind

"Wait, you are an assassin?"

Your roommate stops, just when they were about to pull the trigger, and slowly lowers it, eyes wide "You didn't realize?" They asked, looking like they were having they where about to have a heart attack.

"But- but- the lock picking! The knife collection in my room! For goodness sake, you saw me commit tax fraud!"

"One, lock picking is useful for when we lose our keys; Two, that collection is sick as fuck; and three, I am more suprised of the fact that you didn't notice I was doing the same" you shrug "I honestly wondered if you had ADHD or something"

Your roomate stares

They then proceed to go to the table, put the gun there, then flop into the couch.

You can hear their muffled screams and something about retiring to a convent.

You look over them. Nobody told you your roommate would be so dramatic. You gently touch their back "Hey, it's ok; you freaked out and acted rashly, happens to the best of us"

Their screaming stops, and they turn around; Although instead of the relief you expected, your roomate looked at you as if you said the earth is flat.

"What"

You stare back

"Oh wait I never told you didn't I?"

You smile, and wave a little bit of jazz hands

"I was an assassin too!"

"WHAT"

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[authorhjk1]

30 days

(Irene x Male Reader ft. TripleS Nakyoung)

Trigger warning: cheating

You were destined to fail. No way in hell would you be able to survive this ridiculous challenge. You knew that from day one. Especially with such a gorgeous wife like Irene.

The two of you had a bet going. Throughout November, neither of you were allowed to cum. The loser would face severe punishment. Which would be nothing new to you. But up until 10 minutes ago, you thought you had a chance to succeed. A slim chance. But a chance nonetheless. It could've been the first time in your life having the upper hand in the bedroom. Up until now, Irene always was in control. She always decided when and where and how often.

Which was fine to you, until around two months ago. Irene started to pay less attention to sex. The two times a week became once a week. And then, you went a couple of weeks without proper sex at all.

You were about to get worried. Rightfully so. Irene is a gorgeous, beautiful, sexy woman. And you know you aren't the best lover in the world, but it always seemed like Irene was satisfied with you.

Luckily, she suddenly brought up the topic of participating in this year's NNN challenge. No sex, no masturbating, no cumming for 30 days. Your reward? The chance of doing something, you've always wanted to do. Have sex with Irene the way you want to. Maybe for once be in control.

But all that now seems to almost suffocate you as you lie on your and your wife's bed. Your eyes staring up at the ceiling, but you're not really looking at it. Your crotch covered in cum, your dick already softening again. Your phone in your left hand.

You glance at it again. You couldn't help yourself. You met her a couple of days ago while picking up Irene from her music show appearance. The younger woman was talking to you, maybe even flirting? Now that you think back at it, that could've actually been possible.

Kim Nakyoung looked like a tease with those shorts that showed off her thighs. That shirt that showed off that midriff. And that tie that almost seemed to beg you to pull on it.

She was already sexy in person. But when you saw this picture 10 minutes ago, you knew you had lost.

You still remember all the things you thought about doing to her, which Irene would never let you do. Bend Nakyoung over a table, or just have your way with her, while she's on all fours on your bed. Making her ride your cock, while doing those body rolls she did during her performance. Even trying out how tight her ass is. And finally finishing off by painting her face, while Nakyoung plays with her clit at the same time.

You sigh heavily. Maybe Irene doesn't have to know? Would she ever find out if you just get yourself together and walk back into the living room? While still thinking about keeping your loss a secret, you hear the door open.

Before you can even blink, Irene is standing the room.

"What do we have here?"

An amused, slightly derogatory smile plays around the corners of her mouth. Almost as if she knew you were gonna lose.

"I-I think I lost."

"Oh, I can see that."

Her eyes move to your phone.

"Even thinking about someone else?"

"It's not what it looks like."

You're afraid Irene would take it the wrong way, but she just looks at you, waiting for an explanation.

"I just thought about doing stuff to her, which I'd never do to you."

"Why, because it's dirty?"

You want to say that it's mainly because she doesn't let you do it, but you're not brave enough to say that.

"Yes. While it's hot, I would never want to see my wife doing stuff like that."

"Of course not."

Her amused smile makes you feel warm, but also guilty. The fact that you're still lying here like this, the fact that you lost, the fact that you thought of someone else. You know Irene's punishment for you won't be a small one.

The last days of November have arrived and you've grown more worried by the second. Irene never told you when or where or how you'd face your punishment. At first, you thought it was gonna be December 1st or November 30th. But you could be wrong as well.

When you arrive at the cafeteria to start your lunch break, you keep picturing an angry Irene making you suffer for hours on end, before finally letting you cum. Halfway through your meal, you get a message from Irene, which is quite unusual. She knows you're working around this time and she might be working too right now as well.

"Today is the day."

You swallow hard, knowing that when you're coming home today, you're done for. Even more fantasies and hellish punishments invade your mind. Irene once mentioned she'd love to try out something that involves pain. She might've been talking about herself, but you're not so sure about that anymore.

You almost drop your fork, when she sends you a picture of herself. Your wife is basically only wearing lingerie. A black see through crop top, showing off her porcelain like skin underneath. You can clearly see her tits and her nipples. All of that barely concealed by the black flower patterns on the fabric. Her tight midriff makes you unconsciously rest your hand in your lap. Her panties are black lace as well. They appear to be see through too, but the black flowers hide her lower lips. The black stockings end in a flower pattern as well. They look tight, making it seem like her thighs are thicker than usual. Irene's black heels make her look taller and her legs longer.

Seeing that she's dressed in all black confirms your suspicion. You'll get punished today. You're glad she isn't holding a whip or anything. Maybe she's just hiding that?

"You better come home now. Or your punishment will be worse tonight."

Taking the second half of the day off was an easy decision. Not just in fear for what's to come if you don't, but also because of your excitement. You've never seen her in that outfit before and you just want to look at her wearing that in person.

When you pull into your drive way, you notice someone's bike standing near the front door. Looks like Irene ordered lunch for the two of you. You already had lunch earlier, but you don't mind eating again. Getting out of the car and walking towards your house, you realize that the door is slightly open. Where is the delivery guy anyway?

Maybe he is inside, waiting for Irene to pay? But wouldn't she have money on her and wouldn't he normally wait outside? You feel a little uncertain as you open the front door fully.

You step out of your shoes and hang up your jacket. You still don't see anyone.

Entering the living room, you freeze.

Your wife is kneeling on the floor. Kneeling between another man's legs, who's sitting on your couch. His pants are lying next to him. And Irene has her hands on his thighs and her lips around his cock.

"I-Irene?"

You're standing to her right as she looks up. You don't know what kind of reaction you expected. But you definitely didn't expect her to lift her head and give you a smile, while she keeps stroking him.

"Hi, babe. This is your punishment."

You still can't believe this is actually happening. Your wife is sucking off someone else? In your house? Not even bothered by you watching her?

You don't know what to do as you see her taking him into her mouth again. You don't want to watch, but for some reason you can't look away. You feel disgusted when the delivery guy puts his hand on your wife's head. He guides her up and down on his cock.

You take a step back, your legs hitting the armchair behind you. The sound makes Irene lift her head to look at you. But the man's hand pushes her further down his length instead. You hold your breath. Irene would've killed you for that, but you see her just smiling up at him, his cock now deeper in her mouth.

The man hasn't even acknowledged your presence yet. He stays focused on Irene, watching her giving him head.

You still try to find the right words. Something heavy seems to be stuck in your throat. You don't want to scream. Or cry. Or do anything. You just silently watch how your wife lets her head bob up and down the delivery guy's cock.

Soon, you notice Irene's top is missing. Her perky tits are exposed, slightly glistening with her own spit. Another string of saliva falls off her lips as she quickens her pace. The guy's groan makes your stomach twist. You catch the sparkling wedding ring on Irene's finger as her hand strokes his base.

How could she do something like this? She seemed distant from time to time, especially recently. But you never expected Irene to cheat on you. And you never thought she would let someone have this control over her.

The sounds of her lips gliding along his wet shaft and her humming around his length fill the room. You don't know for how long you've been watching her already. A minute? Two?

"Irene."

Her name weakly leaves your lips once more.

Your wife finally lifts her head off his cock again. A string of saliva connecting her lips with his tip. It tears as she leans away a little.

"Don't act all surprised. You should've seen this coming, really."

"W-What? Why?"

You sound weak, almost whining.

"It was fun with you at first, but I'm getting over it."

Irene keeps stroking the guy's cock, while talking to you, spreading her saliva everywhere.

"What do you mean? We're married."

"So? That doesn't mean I can't have some fun."

"Fun? You're cheating!"

Your emotions are mixed between anger and sadness. Irene seems like a stranger to you now.

"It's not cheating, if you watch."

"Of course it is!"

Irene rolls her eyes.

"Don't be such a baby. Watch or leave. Choice is yours."

"But-"

You don't continue as your wife starts to ignore you again. She takes the guy's cock back into her mouth, her lips now tightly sealed around his shaft.

You don't know what to do. Stay or leave? You watch her closing her eyes and gliding along his length slowly. She only makes that face when she enjoys her food very much. Her eyebrows furrow a little.

Finally sinking into the armchair, you try to look away. You feel like your body is to weak to keep you standing.

"Oh, fuck. That feels amazing."

The man's words make you look back at Irene. You can see how her tongue moves inside her mouth, occasionally bulging her cheeks.

"You like that?"

Irene lets go of his cock and looks up at him.

"You like it when I suck you off like this?"

"Fuck, yes."

The delivery guy takes her face into his hands and guides her back onto his cock. You watch with wide eyes as he seems to thrust up into her mouth, while making her head move up and down as well. Irene never let you take control, she never let you fuck her face. But she's now letting this stranger do it. You can see how he makes her take all of his cock, her lips meeting his base with every thrust. When you hear her gag, you close your eyes. You don't want to see or hear it. But the gagging only becomes louder as he now properly fucks her face.

Once he lets go of her again, Irene looks up at him.

"Your cock has me so wet. I want it in my pussy."

Your eyes shoot open again. You're unable to comprehend what she just said. A blowjob was already too much. And now she wants him to actually fuck her.

You see him helping her onto the couch. It seems it's on purpose the way the two of them position each other. Irene now directly faces you on the couch on all fours.

Most of the time, when the two of you had sex, Irene usually just rode your cock. She was always in control. But now you watch how she purposefully arches her back and raises her ass higher. The man, now kneeling behind her, reaches for her panties and pulls them off of her. Irene smiles when she sees you following his movements.

"Don't worry, baby. I still love you."

Her words sound wrong to you. She's saying one thing, but doing the complete opposite.

"Just let me have this once in a while."

"But-"

Irene interrupts you as the the man makes her moan by licking her pussy. You can't directly see it. But his hands on her ass and his head right behind her leave little to the imagination. Your wife's face contorts in pleasure. She's tightly holding onto the cushion in front of her, her long dark hair partially covering her face. You hear the delivery guy eat out your wife and you can't find any words. You have nothing to say.

"Damn, give it to me."

Irene's moans make you want to cover your ears. But the way she looks at you has you paralyzed. She looks so satisfied, so turned on. You've never really seen her like that before.

When the man gets back up, you hold your breath.

"Make me take it."

Irene sighs, looking straight at you.

The two of you lock eyes. Your wife bites her lower lip. You can see the exact moment when his cock enters your wife. Her mouth falls open, her eyes grow wider. A deep moan leaves her body.

Irene's face shows you exactly how deep he's inside of her. When he hits her limit, Irene's brows are furrowed and she bites her lip.

"You cunt is fucking tight."

You never thought you'd hear another man say these words about your wife. She only responds with a moan as he moves back, before thrusting into her again.

After a short while he really starts to fuck Irene like you never did. She always told you she doesn't like to have sex like that. Makes her look like a slut. But now that man is reaching forward to take a fistful of her hair.

"You like getting fucked by someone else in front of your husband?"

The question leaves your heart aching as he pulls on her hair, making your wife arch her back further.

"Yes, I love it. Make me your whore."

His thrusts become faster and you seem to sink even deeper into the armchair. It's not like you can blame this man. If a woman like Irene would throw herself at you like this, you wouldn't be able to resist too. But why does she let him do this to her?

"I'm gonna ruin your pussy."

"Yes, you own it now. Ruin it!"

Her moans make you shake your head in disbelief. You still can't understand why she'd do this. Aren't you enough for her? If she'd let you, you'd do this too.

"Baby..."

You look at her, when you hear her calling for you.

"Don't look so sad. I'm trying to save our marriage here."

"What? This is the exact opposite of-"

Once more Irene's loud moans cut you off.

What did she mean by that? That she'd leave you, if you don't let her have sex with other men?

"I just - yes, right there! - need a big cock once in a while to show me my place."

"But..can't I do that?"

Irene ignores your question, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the delivery guy hits the perfect spot. She doesn't talk for a while, only moaning and gasping as he keeps pounding her from behind.

"Irene?"

You call her name again, but she doesn't respond. Her head drops between her shoulders as he lets go off her hair. A loud clap echoes through the room as his hand meets her ass.

"Fuck, yes! Spank me! Punish me!"

Irene's face is a combination of happiness and pleasure. Her smile is replaced every other second by a deep moan.

Another spank. You can see how her right cheek jiggles for a moment.

"Spank me harder, make it hurt."

When you watch the delivery guy fucking and spanking your wife, you finally realize how hot Irene looks right now. She'd look just as good when you'd fuck her like this, but she never let you. You kinda see her in a new light. She always looked sexy. Now she looks slutty. Which makes her even hotter for some reason.

"God, yes!"

Only now do you catch yourself staring at your hand, which is slowly rubbing your crotch. Looking back up, you see how the guy has reached underneath Irene. His left hand gropes and plays roughly with her perky tits, while the other still hits her cheeks. Over and over again, the sound echoes through the living room.

"You like this, slut? You like it when I play with your little tits?"

"Yes, use my body. Touch me."

Your wife's words reach your ears and you have to stop yourself from opening your pants. It hurt to see her like that at first, but now you have that urgent need to touch yourself. To play with yourself while watching your wife getting fucked.

Irene's eyes sparkle in amusement when she catches you rubbing your crotch. A mischievous smile plays around her lips.

"It's fine, baby. You lost this bet anyway. You can jerk off, if you want."

You feel shame warming your cheeks. You never thought you'd actually even consider this. But when the delivery guy grabs Irene's arms and pulls them up from underneath her body, you can't hold it back. You slowly undo your pants as he fucks your wife from behind. Her upper body in the air, her arms behind her as he holds onto them. You watch her head bounce with every thrust as you take out your cock.

"I knew you'd like it, baby. Just relax and enjoy the show."

The man fucks Irene harder now, probably turned on by you jerking off to the two of them. She has to close her mouth to not bite into her tongue, her head continuously moving around.

"Take my cock, slut. I want you to make me cum."

His words make you stroke yourself faster. Irene is probably trying to flex her muscles, wanting to hug his cock even tighter.

"Fuck, just like that."

He groans and you catch Irene's smile, whenever her face isn't covered by her hair, which is flying around in the rhythm to his thrusts.

As you keep jerking off, you notice how hot Irene really looks right now. You get into it more, watching how your wife gets fucked. He is rougher with her than you ever could be.

"I'm gonna cum soon."

His words make you stroke yourself faster.

"Where do you want to cum?"

You never heard this question before. You're curious about the answer.

"Your face."

He lets go off Irene's arms, making her fall onto the couch. You watch how she quickly slides to the ground, kneeling and waiting for him to stand up. You see her side profile, her mouth open.

The delivery guy strokes his cock, which is slick with her juices. He aims it right at her. You feel yourself getting closer already too.

It doesn't take much longer. When he orgasms, he shoots his load all over your wife's face and into her mouth. Irene gasps and tries to get all of it. Her hand replaces his, trying to get every last drop.

You follow quickly after, making a mess of yourself, like you did a couple of days ago.

When Irene finally turns to you, you can see how her face is full of cum.

"To be honest with you, honey, this wasn't our first time."

"What?"

You ask weakly, still recovering from your own orgasm.

"You were right earlier. I've been cheating on you. But now it's not cheating anymore, if you keep watching us."

You see her using her finger to scoop up his cum.

"F-For how long already?"

Irene sucks the cum off her finger, before smiling at you, most of her face still covered.

"30 days."

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

Hi, everyone! Just something small for the end of NNN. I thought I'd try out something new. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me now what you think.

Stay healthy!

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[jeonginsleftcheek]

On Top(drabble)

a/n: i was peacefully writing my next dolly fic and hyunjin made me feral. that's it. you're in the hotel room with your bf after the concert hehe.

(if you saw me post this twice - no you didn't)

"You've been craving me all day, haven't you doll?" his voice was sultry as he leaned back on his elbows and looked at you.

Your thighs pressed together, a guilty look on your face as you've been riling him up with your texts and suggestive pictures during the live.

"Admit it." he smirked, laying down and looking at you with his eyes hooded.

"Yes. Been needing you all day, Jinnie."

"Climb on top then." he beckoned you with his fingers and you obeyed, making your way towards him.

Before you could sit on top of him, his legs wrapped around yours, stopping you.

"Take everything off for me." he said, his voice low.

Your face burned as you peeled your clothes off, now standing naked in front of your boyfriend.

You noticed a bulge already growing in his pants, making you gulp loudly.

"My clothes too." he grinned cheekily and you leaned down to unbutton and unzip his pants, sliding them off before doing the same with his shirt and boxers.

His cock slapped against his stomach, already leaking for you and he looked so delicious that you almost fell to your knees and took him in your mouth.

"Come on. Don't make me wait, doll."

You bit on your lip as you kneeled over him, hovering a little before you grabbed his cock, running his swollen tip against your wet folds.

"Been keeping that pussy all warm and wet for me, hm?" Hyunjin smirked, his eyes becoming cloudy with arousal.

"Yes, just for you Jinnie." you whimpered, finally pushing his length inside your warmth, slowly sitting down on him until he filled you up completely.

"Good girl. Always taking my cock so well." he said, folding his hands behind his head.

"Mm." you whimpered, your pussy clenching around him, arousal coating his throbbing cock.

"J-Jinnie." you whined making him chuckle.

"Fuck yourself on me, doll." he said and you moaned as you started swiveling your hips on top of him.

He looked at you with eyes full of lust as they traveled from your face to your perky breasts all the way down to where he was filling you up.

"Sucked me right in, hm. So needy for me, aren't you?" he bit on his lip.

"Y-yes, need you Jinnie." you babbled, already gone just from the stretch.

"Prove it. Show me how much you need it." one of his large hands ended up on your thigh, squeezing you for encouragement.

You braced yourself with your hands on his chest as you started to fuck yourself on him, lifting your hips up and slapping them down on his as you used him like a human dildo.

"Yeah, harder baby, I know you can." Hyunjin grabbed a handful of your ass making you moan loudly as you started fucking yourself faster on his cock, the tip hitting that delicious spot inside you.

The sound of skin slapping skin was so loud in the room, your slick coating his cock and balls, making it easy for him to slip in and out as you fucked against him.

Hyunjin moaned lowly, now grabbing both your thighs before his hands ran up your waist to your breasts, cupping them and squeezing.

"Who does this little pussy belong to?" he smirked, playing with your nipples.

"Y-you, you Hyunjin." you moaned, so close to your release.

"And these pretty tits?"

"All yours." you threw your head back, fucking on him harder as you felt that familiar build up inside you.

"Are you gonna cum on my cock?" he smirked at you.

"Yes, oh my god! Please!" you moaned.

"Good girl, cum for me." he moaned too, but you were struggling, your thighs burning and pussy clenching so hard around him that he was dangerously close to cumming too.

"I-I can't." you whimpered with tears in your eyes.

"Need Jinnie's help, baby?" he cooed at you almost mockingly.

"Yes, please." you begged making him chuckle.

"Hold onto my hand, doll." you gripped his hand, his fingers entwining with yours, his other hand on your hip.

A broken sob escaped your lips as Hyunjin started fucking up into you, grunting as his tip kept brushing your cervix.

Soon, you came all around his cock, your juices spilling everywhere on his crotch as you whimpered.

"Did so well." Hyunjin groans, gripping both of your hips.

"You're gonna take my cum now." he smirks lazily before digging his nails into your skin as he started fucking up into you hard, making you see stars.

You whimpered in overstimulation as Hyunjin came, filling you up with his warm cum and fucking it up into you.

He sat up, grabbing your face to kiss you, his tongue licking at yours before he leaned back, smirking at you.

"Just so you know, we're not done yet."

had to do this hehe💅🏻

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust

[anon-vester]

Ivan could feel the constant squirming in his butt. He thought that Kysic was done trying to escape from his ass. It was punishment for always taking his stuff without permission.

48 hours ago.........

Ivan had found several things missing again from his room. He knew who had done it. His roommate Kysic had a nasty habit of borrowing his stuff without even asking. Sometimes, he would return them not the way he had taken them. It really pissed him off about that. He often told him not to take anything from his room unless he asked. Yet time and time again Kysic kept doing it over and over. He decided to put a stop to it and teach him a lesson in leaving his things alone.

As Kysic was in the living room watching tv, Ivan brought him an open soda can. "Here, you must be thirsty." He handed him the soda can.

"Thanks roomy, I thought you would be really upset over my nasty habit." Kysic spoke as he drunk the soda. It was so delicious that he guzzled down the whole thing in seconds. "That was tasty and refreshing." He added as he noticed Ivan smiling back at him. "What's with the smile?" He asked.

Ivan looked at him, "You will see. And I also am still upset over your nasty habit. But I decided to put you in a place to break that nasty habit of yours." He spoke as he waited.

Kysic didn't know what exactly he meant by that. Suddenly thought the whole room was spinning all around him. Everything grew in size, even the couch he was sitting on. He looked over at Ivan who was now like a giant to him. "What's happening?!" He exclaimed in a tiny voice as continued to shrink in size.

Ivan laughed this time. "Soon, you will be small enough to fit in my ass. It will be you prison for the next two days at least. This will teach you the value of personal space." He paused. "You will be my personal butt toy." He added.

Kysic soon found himself centimeters tall, and the world around him extremely huge. He saw Ivan lower his shorts and underwear. He realized that his roommate wasn't lying to him. He began to run, but was already too late. Ivan snatched him up and stuffed him in his butt crack towards his hole. He then stuff part of him into his hole for good measure. "Enjoy your new home for the next two days." He heard him say before closing his butt cheeks, leaving him in a total dark and sweaty prison.

The last 48 hours had been a place of torture for Kysic. There wasn't an ounce of light unless Ivan parted his butt cheeks. It was stuffy and sweaty. Him passing gas made his prison almost unbearable to be there. The worst of it was when Ivan workout. It made it extremely sweaty and slippery. He had to work hard not to get swallowed in his hole. At night, Ivan would fart in his sleep, causing him to pass out and wake up frequently in his hole. Ivan was careful to make sure he couldn't escape his ass when he showered. He would plug him in, keeping him from any means of escaping his prison.

Kysic felt like he learned his lesson. He would leave his roommate's things alone for now on. He hoped some squirming would help Ivan realize he wanted out and learned his lesson.

Ivan was enjoying how much Kysic was squirming in his hole. He really did make the perfect butt toy. He had initially planned just a 48 hour stay in his butt but decided to enjoy his tiny prisoner a little longer. He could tell him his plan, but it would be more fun for the little butt toy to found out on his own. That thought really amused him as he continued to work on his computer.

[the-kr8tor]

For you Ekko reqs, may I suggest R and Ekko hurt/comfort where Ekko slowly confides with R about what happened at the end of show (like probably a year or 2 of Ekko trying to process everything) and how he sometimes wished he stayed at the alt timeline? 🥲 Just him processing his grief of everything while R comforts him. Mans deserves better

-😅

Ahhhhh writing this made me tear up ngl 🥲 I hope you like it! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, can be read as platonic, cw violence mention, cw injury mention, cw blood and death mention, hurt/comfort.

Navigation

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Ekko?” Your call is carried by the cool autumn wind, breeze fluttering your lashes as you stare at his back. You see him shrink in his seat, face hidden on the crook of his elbow. Walking closer, footsteps clanging against the metal balcony where you always find him on the same day it all happened. “You'll catch a cold up here.”

Piltover shines in front of you, warm light flickering off by the windows as people settle in for the night. But the glimmering fire paper still flies above the city, its light fading as it burns out in the breeze. It's the anniversary of that day, the day Piltover and Zaun saw war right on their doorstep.

Your arm aches, a phantom pain ebbing in and out when your mind goes back to that exact day where the sky was covered in searing smoke, and the streets splashed in warm crimson. Thumb brushing along your scar, it's a mark, a reminder of what was lost that day.

After a minute, Ekko sighs, still unmoving on his spot. “I'm not leaving.”

“I'm not trying to make you leave.” You fetch the blanket that was folded and draped over your shoulder. “I have a blanket for you. If you want it.”

He turns his head slowly over to you, mind playing tricks on him as he sees the flash of you bleeding and yelling for him. Eyes bloodshot, skin clammy and marred with blood. As fast as it came, he blinked and it's gone. Vision returning to the present, the present that wouldn't be possible if not for his sacrifice.

“Don't just gawk at me, bossman,” you smile gently at him, the blanket now unfurled in front of you, ready to drape it over his trembling form. “Do you want it or not?”

The corner of his lip curls up in a small smile, his eyes are tired, weighed down by the world. “Come sit down?”

He has never asked you to join him. You always left him alone up here whenever the anniversary comes around, thinking that's what he needed. But you always waited patiently just outside the door, sitting down on the cold steps while you let grief wash over you like the tides. Until it's time to pick yourself up again at the sound of the door opening. His hand helping you up wordlessly, grief holding the two of you in place, mourning together silently. When morning comes, everything seems to go back in place. The sun still shines, the world still breathes. But it lingers, that grief that has etched itself in your bones, sorrow that lives in his chest, weighing him down but never letting it fester and spread.

You two continue to fight, to improve the very place where blood has been spilled. Carry their memories, their names and their voices until the end. Lest their sacrifices would be in vain. Ekko's sacrifice would be in vain. He deserves better, to not bear the heaviness left in his soul.

“Are you just gonna gawk there or will you take a seat?” He uses your own words against you.

“Can't help it,” you say, heart pounding in your chest as you take a seat right next to him. Giving him enough space, but close enough to see his heavy eyes marred by unshed tears. “You look good under the moonlight.” You joke in an attempt to make him smile.

Ekko manages to chuckle softly, letting you drape the fluffy blanket around his shoulders. Your warm fingers grazing along his cool skin, sending goosebumps on his lean arms.

“Do you find my frown charming?”

You smile kindly, knuckles brushing down his goosebumps. “It’s the tear stained cheeks that gets me everytime.”

He scoffs with a small smile, attention turned towards the Piltover sky. The smell of burnt paper and violets linger in the air, frown deepening at his racing thoughts.

“Will you stay?”

With trepidation, you take his hand in yours, giving him enough time to pull away. He doesn't, instead, he weaves his fingers around yours. His grip is weak, but you can feel how much he needed it by how his eyes stare at your joined hands.

“Of course, whatever you need, Ekko.” You'll stay forever if he asks.

He nods, eyes staying downturned. “I wanted to stay at that place.” Letting out a shaky breath, he closes his eyes, trying to remember what they look like in his mind's eye. Faces that he once thought that he'll never see again. Faces that he had to say goodbye to. “But that would be selfish. I couldn't—” you squeeze his hand. “—I couldn't just leave this place and let it burn.”

The last two years have melded together in your head. All those months of waiting for him at the edge of the hideout, never losing hope, not even when they declared him dead. And then the war came, and you two didn't have the time to reunite, until it ended with you laying half dead on the streets of Piltover. Waking up to him holding your hand in a grip, wishing for you to open your eyes. And you did. A year later, he comes to you, angry and furious, wanting to let it all out. You still remember the day he told you exactly what happened when he disappeared for months like it was yesterday.

He recalls it all like it was a dream, a dream that was destined to be forgotten once he awakes. He didn't want to wake up, not when everything he always dreamed of was there. He gripped onto you tightly that day, held onto you until the sun rose. Nothing was left unsaid, his story left a hole in your heart, wishing that you've seen it for yourself. But you're afraid that you wouldn't be strong enough to leave, as strong as him who made a difficult choice to leave.

He has experienced unthinkable loss, a longing you've never felt. You don't have the exact words to comfort him, to soothe his want, so you move closer to him, fixing where the blanket has fallen and wrapping it over his body like a warm cocoon. You could only hope that it's enough, but you know it will never be enough.

Ekko tucks his head on your shoulder, hand finding its way over to your raised scar. His thumb traces along the skin, feeling your warmth and in turn comforting you. He knows the pain you're in too, he witnessed it, all the nights you've hid away only to come back with red eyes and grief etched on your face.

“I couldn't leave you and Zaun behind.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

Your heart wretches out of your chest. “It wouldn't be selfish.” You say, whispering it into the air around you. “I think— I would've done what you wanted to do. I wouldn't be strong enough to leave, but you did.” He leans away, eyes soft and shining under the moonlight as he meets with your eyes. “You're brave, Ekko. You might not want everyone to know what you had to do to save everyone, but I know. And I'm forever grateful for what you did. For what you have sacrificed so we could live. I'll remember it until I can't, even then, I'll try not to forget.” Cupping his jaw, you watch as a tear slides down. You wipe it away gingerly, smiling at him as he leans against your warmth, eyes closing, shoulders slumping with every word you utter. “You did well, Ekko.”

He moves forward, leaning his forehead against your own, affection radiating off him. “Thank you.”

“We'll be okay. We have time.”

“I know.” He has seen it, one day that dream will come true.

With a tender squeeze, his hand takes the other edge of the blanket, pulling and covering you with its warmth right next to him.

[writergirlll]

Will you write a lazy day with Charles Leclerc and Leo? Maybe Charles came back exhausted from a race that didn't go so well and all he needs is a hug from his girlfriend?

LAZY EVENING/ CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader

sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but I enjoyed writing it! It's just a lot of fluff sorry guys!!

Charles was always good at what he did. Cooking, making things, cuddling with your dog, or driving in Formula 1. He broke the curse of Monaco and thus began his huge career. But this race he ran didn't go too well, due to Ferrari's bad strategy and bad tires. And so he got a DNF in the first qualification and placed 5th in the overall race.

Which is certainly not a bad thing, especially since this race was in Las Vegas, where there are always the most participants and the track is very difficult to remember, but for Ferrari, who had to finish the season well, it wasn't enough.

Charles was mainly angry with himself. He knew that he should have tried harder and that he had messed up the race, but all he wanted was to finally get out of the cameras and pitiful stares and get cozy in bed with his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, You wasn't at his race because you had to stay at the hotel and do computer work due to work reasons that you hated. However, you definitely did not miss the race and watched it until the end, when Verstappen, Sainz and Norris stood on the podium.

But as midnight slowly approached and you tried harder and harder to stay awake to wait for Charles, your eyes closed until they closed completely and you fell asleep over an open laptop with work and the TV on with the main broadcast of interviews with F1 drivers.

When Charles came home, he expected you to be waiting for him. Therefore, he opened the door sharply, put his backpack on the floor and gave a small shout; "Love, I'm home"!

You twitched and grunted slightly in your sleep before turning over on the couch to face the TV and snuggling further into the blankets. You didn't plan to open your eyes because in your sleepy state you didn't realize that Charles was home.

Hearing no response, Charles frowned slightly and slowly walked into the living room. When he saw how the TV was on with F1 and you were sleeping on the couch, he couldn't help but feel happiness and love.

You were his everything. In good times and in bad, you were his sunshine. And that's why when he saw you sleeping in front of the TV with the footage of the other Formula 1 drivers, it warmed his heart. He knew very well how sad you felt when you couldn't make it to his race.

He slowly walked over to you, kneeling by your head and slowly brushing your hair away from your face. Then he bent down so as not to wake you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled a little under his touch as you realized who it was and slowly opened your tired eyes. “Hi Char” you smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. “Congratulations on the race” you smiled.

He leaned into your touch and his smile brightened even more. “Shall we go to sleep?” he asked as he saw you close your eyes again even though you were trying not to and you slowly nodded.

“And where is Leo?” he asked one more question before he could pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. You didn't answer anything and just lifted the blanket, where a small golden dog was hidden by your lap, which has become your "child" for the six months you've had it.

When he saw Charles, he immediately got up and ran his short legs to him for a kiss and a cuddle.

After Charles cuddled up to him, he scooped you up in his arms as a reward for having to wait for him and carried you to bed with Leo at your heels.

He slowly laid you down on the bed, you shifted to your side and waited for him to take off his shirt, change his pants and come to you.

Before long, he finally appeared by the bed in just his shorts and you couldn't help but bite your lip when you saw him like that. You still didn't understand how someone like him could be yours.

He climbed into bed behind you, pulling you to his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. One of his hands caressed your back and the other brushed your hair away from your face. Again. You should probably get a haircut..

“I love you do you know that?” he whispered in your ear and you raised your head to be directly facing him.

“How could I not know Char?” you smiled and leaned down so your lips met his halfway. It was a loving kiss that you thought was more of a good night, but later it got more and more passionate.

When you were both out of breath, you had to pull away from each other. “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” he asked, looking all over your face.

You did, you think them even though you were actually 100% clear. "I'm not sure..." you whispered before smiling and bringing your head closer to his.

"I think you know" Charles smiled lightly and connected his lips to yours again, this time in a hungrier kiss.

[luvyeni]

🩶… ( drabble ) sleepy ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 마크이 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ mark is tired but never too tired for youヾ

boyfriend!mark・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ softdom! mark, unprotected sex, dirty talk m‎ wc ・ ‎0.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can i get an idol! mark smut :( im just imagining him coming home from work all tired but reader is needy and ready for him….. 😔😔😔☹️

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i love mark lee with all my heart

coming home; his head hung low as he pushed the door of the apartment home. it was almost midnight and he was exhausted, not only did he have a full day of schedules, traveling all across seoul — he also stayed back and extra three hours for practice and another hour to do a live with chenle… safe to say he didn’t want to do anything but shower and sleep.

except you had other plans for the man once he came home. “yn , baby im tired.” he sat on the bed, towel wrapped around his waist from his shower, his hair still wet. “but im horny.” you pouted, he sighed. “i waited for you all day.” you whined into his ear, and he was tired but he was still a man at the end of the day and you couldn’t help but smirk when you saw his cock twitching against the towel. “please.” you kissed behind his ear, he closed his eyes parting his lips. “please , i need you so bad.”

mark hated how much of a hold on him you had — before he walked through the door, he longed for his bed; but here he was, sat back against the headboard and his eyes closed, but not because he was on his way to sleep. but because you were sat on top of him, his cock snug inside you as you bounced up and down on him. “fu-fuck baby you’re so needy.”

his hands holding you steady as you got yourself off for the 3rd time that night. “fu-fuck mark.” you moaned , hold his shoulders. “m’love your cock so much.” he couldn’t help but smirk. “yeah -fuck- spoiled baby.” he hissed as you clenched around him. “can’t say no to you or this pretty pussy.” he slapped your ass. “love it so much.”

you began to speed up your 4th orgasm approaching. “oh fuck mark im gonna cum again!” you shrieked, moaning your man’s name over and over like a mantra. “fuck baby cum!” he groaned, his eyes shut and his head thrown back in pleasure. “oh mark , shit!” you scream as you came. “shit.”

he lifted you up, flipping you over slipping back inside you. “mark!” you moaned. “th-thought you were tired.” he hissed , holding your legs open, thrusting in and out of you. “fuck sleep can wait.”

“gonna make you cum a few more times.”

©️LUVYENI

[imfoive]

Trophy Husband - Chapter 4

Hyunjin x Reader (fem.) Genre: Arranged Marriage au!, Marriage of Convenience-ish, Romance, Angst, Frenemies-to-Lovers, NSFW (mdni) Warnings: cunnilingus/oral sex (f), mentions of masturbation, cursing, drinking, crude language, somewhat proofread WC: 6.5k A/N: what a fun ride this chapter had been to write😌 Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: Two individuals with polar opposite lifestyles are thrown into an arranged marriage for the benefit of both their families, or so they claim. One is a frivolous playboy, living off familial wealth, while the other is an overly controlling workaholic. Navigating their marriage with a business-like approach, their relationship is marked by a whirlwind of bickering, banter, and societal pressures. Amid misunderstandings, they uncover layers of unexpected qualities, eventually discovering a sweet love neither saw coming.

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

CHAPTER 4 ───────────────────

There was something heavy in the air. By this time in the evening, the apartment was usually filled with Hyunjin’s loud laughter and Y/N recounting whatever had irked her that day.

But tonight, there was none of that. Silence hung between the gallery director and her trophy husband, both seemingly avoiding eye contact.

The atmosphere at dinner was thick with awkwardness. Y/N and Hyunjin sat across from each other at the dining table, the clink of their cutlery the only sound breaking the silence. 

Hyunjin busied himself with serving food, but Y/N’s gaze was fixed on his veiny hands. At the long fingers that he used to pleasure himself on their bed. A memory that decided it was going to haunt her for the rest of time, refusing to leave her mind. Her cheeks flushed as the thought invaded her mind anew, and she mentally scolded herself for letting such perverse thoughts take over.

But Hyunjin only saw her, frozen, eyes downcast, lost in thought.

The dark-haired man cleared his throat, breaking the silence at last.

   “I didn’t realize you’d be home early.”

His voice was steady, despite the awkwardness he felt. Y/N’s eyes shot up, meeting his gaze for a split second before quickly averting them.

It was unusual. For her to not even be able to look him in the eyes, when she was perhaps the very best at shooting intense stares.

   “I-I had some free time and decided to come back. Didn’t think I’d interrupt… whatever that was.” She croaked, fumbling for her fork.

A new side of her that had Hyunjin raise an eyebrow. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched her scrambling in front of him. A sight that should have embarrassed him, yet seeing her so flustered in front of him amused him in a way he didn’t expect.

As if the memory of her staring at him, lips parted, eyes wide in shock wasn’t as bad as it seemed. He felt like teasing all of a sudden, the awkwardness of the moment faded, replaced by an unexpected surge of mischief.

   “Well, you were the one who told me to jerk off whenever I needed to let off steam. Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy seeing me in all my robe-clad glory. I know I looked irresistible.”

Y/N blinked, processing the absurdity of his words. Her gaze shot up to meet his smug expression. 

Staring at a gaze that reminded her of their wedding day. A playful, taunting grin ghosting over his lips. One that easily brings out the competitive side of her she slightly missed in the tense atmosphere.

His playful words immediately cut through the awkward feeling that had settled, garnering an instant eye roll from her. She sighed incredulously, her form relaxing and once truly processing his ridiculous words, she let out a scoff.

   “Oh you caught me, I was waiting desperately for the day to finally walk in on you playing with yourself.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, the kind that always made Hyunjin chuckle.

And he did, almost relaxing into his seat, the earlier tension dissipating as he let out a breathy laugh. 

   “Next time, put a sign on the door.” She muttered, earning another echoing laugh from him.

But beneath the playful banter, Y/N felt an unexpected sense of relief. 

The realization that Hyunjin hadn’t brought anyone home, that he wasn’t indulging in the countless women who often threw themselves at him, something she had witnessed on more than one occasion… was comforting. 

Watching as his now relaxed form continued to serve them dinner, her eyes trailed over his distracted expression.

Who would have thought that someone with a reputation as his, would show more self-control than those who prided themselves on being true lovers?

It was surprising, but meaningful. Every day, he did something that reshaped her initial judgment of his character.

There had been a noticeable shift in their relationship after this incident. They had become more comfortable with each other, their interactions more relaxed, genuine. Even more-so than it was. Neither of them even realized.

Still, Hyunjin continued to tease her about that evening. As if she was the one who should have been embarrassed. As if the memory of it didn’t make his stomach churn in a way he couldn’t describe.

His loud voice often called out to the other room, where he knew she was busy with something he could never quite understand.

   “I’m gonna take a shower! You’re free to barge in and take a peek if you want!” He shouted.

And of course, her response was always the same. Along the lines of a loud groan that would make him laugh, followed by her irritated “Shut it, Hwang!”

But when the door clicked close behind him and his laughter quieted, his voice instantly faded into soft curses. He found himself leaning against the door, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. His hands pressing against his flushed face, eyes staring at the tiles, a part of him wishing she would actually barge in on him again. 

Part of him wanting to get another glimpse of her staring at him when he was the most vulnerable.

Shit, he was starting to sound like a lunatic.

Though lunatic might actually be what he was turning into.

Hwang Hyunjin found himself trapped in a maze he never expected to be thrown into.

He had been promised that once he agreed to be Y/N Yeom’s trophy husband, he’d have nothing to worry about. No duties. No responsibilities. 

No concerns. No headaches.

But now, his mind was tangled in all sorts of worries.

It happened every time his so-called wife leaned into him to reach over and grab something from the counter, unintentionally pinning him in place. His body would stiffen, while she remained blissfully unaware.

It happened when she’d grip his shoulders to get his attention, or when her fingers would tug at his wrists in social settings, leading him from one place to another, her smile radiating.

The casual touches meant nothing to her, but to him, they felt more intimate than anything he’d ever known.

Now, he was drowning in headaches, in concerns he never imagined he’d have. She never promised him freedom from any of this.

The anxiety, the fear. 

She never thought someone like him, the womanizer, the playboy, the screw-up second son of the Hwangs, would ever fall for her.

And yet, here he was, terrified.

Terrified that this infatuation would consume him. 

That he wouldn’t be able to control himself, he might say something, do something that would push her away.

Her genuine smiles. The endless compliments. The tug of his wrist, the way she pulled him into her world.

And those quiet moments when he watched her sleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the most unguarded he’d ever seen her. All of these things that drove him crazy, yet made him the happiest he could be, he feared it would be taken away from him.

He imagined it.

A scenario where he confessed everything. Where he told her that he wanted her. 

All of her. The sides he had slowly uncovered over the months. The good, the bad, the irritating, the frustrating.

The graceful, the kind, the protective. The sides of her he craved more than anything,

Would she accept him too?

Overlooking all the names that were attached to him, the unkind, the impure.

Or would she laugh in his face? 

Tell him he wasn’t worthy. That he was broken, a liability? That he didn’t have what it took to be a real husband?

At that moment, he felt a wave of regret.

Suddenly, he didn’t want to be just a trophy husband. Suddenly, he felt helpless.

Yet, all he could do was laugh. Bitterly. At himself. At all the bad choices he made, never wondering if they would have any consequences.

Apparently they did, and here he was paying the price. Shoving his feelings deeper into his chest.

Something he had always been good at.

────────────────────────

There had been a light, almost effortless comfort between them, a peace that settled quietly into their daily lives. 

But somewhere along the way, something had shifted. 

And in the weeks that followed, that shift deepened, causing an unsettling tension to grow between the couple.

The warmth that once defined their relationship now felt strained, replaced by a return of old habits and new frustrations.

Y/N found herself growing increasingly prickly, and the irritation she could no longer keep in check began to seep into every corner of their life together.

It was a chilly evening, the night dark, yet inside the business-couple’s apartment, the silence was even chillier, the gaze in Hyunjin’s glare even darker.

He had looked down at his wife with narrowed brows of annoyance. 

He had finally snapped. Jaw clenched as he held himself back from yelling back at her like she had done.

He dropped the plate of fruit he had cut for her, hoping it might sweeten her sour mood, causing it to clatter noisily against the table before settling.

They had been arguing for the past week, tiny things that she blew out of proportion often lead to him sighing as he conceited. Her snappish remarks and minor acts of lashing out over trivial matters were clear signs that she was struggling with something. She had been particularly on edge that week, consumed by a project she needed funding for but was too proud to approach her parents for help. Who knows if her father might throw in another deal in exchange for it.

Maybe kids this time? If Hyunjin didn’t take the lead of his empire, maybe a grandkid could. God, even the thought of it pissed her off.

Her frustration was spilling over into every corner of their life. And tonight, Hyunjin had finally had enough.

It wasn’t unusual. The sight of a disheveled living room, her “organized mess” splayed around her like every other day. A chaotic jumble of papers and clutter, that Hyunjin always tidied after.

Yet, suddenly even that seemed to irritate her today.

   “─Can you please, just get out of my hair!” She snapped, her voice biting, sharp with frustration.

It was probably the third time she snapped at him. Her tone making his brow twitch, yet the sting of her words still pricked him. But Hyunjin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stood there, his chest tight, his hands clenched at his sides. He had been so patient, so understanding, but there was a limit to how much anyone could take.

Despite the burn of her words, Hyunjin merely scoffed. He could feel the hurt creeping into his voice, mingling with the bitterness that had been building up inside him.

   “Gladly.” He shot back, his tone louder now, faint with emotion he didn’t want to admit.

He turned on his heels, the movement sharp and angry, and stormed into the bedroom. Moments later, he emerged with his jacket slung over his shoulder and his keys in hand.

   “Call me when you decide you’re done being a cranky pain in the ass!” He shouted, his voice ringing through the corridor, yet distant. 

The apartment door slammed behind him with such force that it echoed, the loud sound making Y/N flinch.

The silence that settled after was deafening.

Y/N sat frozen, staring in the direction of the door, her heart pounding in her chest. 

   “Damn it.” She muttered under her breath, a deep groan escaping her as she buried her face in her hands. 

A sharp pang of regret sliced through her chest. She had pushed him out. She had lashed out, just like she always did when things felt out of control, and now Hyunjin had left home. 

The one person who was always there, the one person who truly cared. She drove him away. The realization hit her like a cold wave, adding to the frustration she was already drowning in.

But before she could even bring herself to call him, to try and apologize, her phone vibrated loudly against the wooden table. The sudden noise was an instant distraction. A call from her secretary that snapped her back to reality. 

Work. 

Her mind briefly wandered to Hyunjin as she answered.

The gallery director’s husband found himself at his usual bar, a place that had evolved from a modest local hole-in-the-wall bar to an upscale retreat for the elite, thanks to Hyunjin’s frequent patronage and the social connections he brought with him. The bar owner, a man who had become a friend over the years, greeted him with a warm smile.

   “Haven’t seen you around lately, buddy. The usual?” The older man asked, already preparing to make Hyunjin’s drink with practiced ease.

Hyunjin offered a thin smile in return, his nod barely perceptible. It was an unmistakable shift, one that the old bar owner wasn’t used to seeing from him. 

The second Hwang son had always been the life of the party. Always smiling, always glowing, effortlessly drawing people in with his charm and presence. He was the kind of man who thrived in social circles, surrounded by friends who admired him, by women who wanted to linger at his side. The bar owner had seen it all. Yet tonight, the light in his eyes seemed dimmer.

   “Seems like something’s bothering you.” The bartender observed, his gaze trailing over the distant look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

The younger man fell silent for a moment, exhaling a deep sigh.

   “I don’t even know what’s bothering me.” Hyunjin muttered, his voice low and weighed down with frustration. 

He sank deeper into the high chair, staring blankly at the polished surface of the bar, his fingers idly tracing the contours of his wedding band, the metal cool against his skin as his mind drifted.

It was a lie. He knew exactly what was bothering him.

And it wasn’t just the fact that Y/N had been grating on his nerves all week, stretching his patience thin. It wasn’t even the arguments, the tension, or her frustration spilling over onto him. What really ate at him was not knowing how to help, not knowing what he could do to truly relieve her of her stress.

To bring back those smiles he suddenly missed.

The older man watched Hyunjin’s distracted expression again, his head dropping slightly with a stifled grin, as though he had already figured out the cause. It was written all over Hyunjin’s face. The older bartender was no stranger to the patterns of married men who frequented his place. He didn’t need much to connect the dots. 

He’d heard Hyunjin had gotten married, and when men like him came in with that particular distant look on their face, it usually pointed to one thing.

   “Trouble with the wife, huh?” He finally asked, his tone more a statement than a question.

Hyunjin paused, his gaze fixated on the drink the bar owner placed before him. The words “the wife” rolled off his tongue with a mix of weariness and worry. He didn’t know if this man could help him, but somehow, he found himself letting the words spill out.

   “I’ve been walking on eggshells all week because she’s been so stressed. Instead, she’s just been taking all her frustrations out on me.” He said through slight irritation, downing the drink in two gulps.

A slight groan escaped his lips as he places the glass back in front of him.

   “And I have no idea how to help either.” Hyunjin muttered, his voice heavy as he watched the man across from him take his empty glass, already beginning to fix a second drink.

His friend nodded sympathetically, recognizing the familiar strain in Hyunjin’s voice.

   “Ah, I understand exactly what you’re going through. It’s a common story among us married men, unfortunately.” The bar owner chuckled slowly, but as his laughter faded, he studied the frowning young man in front of him. 

A moment of contemplation passed, before a light sparked in his eyes. A smirk slowly curled on his lips as he placed the second drink in front of Hyunjin.

   “There’s other ways to help, you know?” The bartender said, crossing his arms over his chest. Seeing the confused look on Hyunjin’s face, he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. 

   “Usually, I find that attending to my wife’s other needs helps placate her.” There was a playful, almost suggestive tone in his words, followed by a breathy chuckle as he straightened up.

Hyunjin blinked at him, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief crossing his face. His brow furrowed, but then, a reluctant chuckle escaped him as the implication of the older man’s words sank in.

It was laughable, really. The idea that he could just swoop in and ease things that easily. It wasn’t that simple. At least not in his marriage.

He could almost imagine Y/N’s reaction, perhaps a swift kick to a very sensitive place before he even made a move.

The director’s husband recalled the way she attacked Alex, the sound of her kick striking the younger cousin’s shin echoed in his mind. 

Hyunjin let out a long sigh, dropping his head as his fingers ran through his hair. 

   “Yeah… not sure I’ll try that approach.” He mumbled under his breath, bringing the glass of his whiskey to his lips.

But three or so drinks later, Hyunjin found himself standing outside their apartment door, his finger hovering over the keypad. He stood almost stiff in the middle of the hallway for the past ten minutes, battling with himself. His cheeks flushed with the effects of alcohol, his mind swirling in a haze of uncertainty. His older friend’s words were still echoing in his thoughts, a suggestion that had seemed so absurd earlier but now lingered, persistently.

During the taxi ride back, he had impulsively pulled out his phone, doing a quick search on “ways to relieve your wife’s stress”. The first suggestion that popped up was eerily similar to what the bartender had implied.

Something about emotional relief through physical closeness, nonsense.

Hyunjin had groaned to himself, shaking his head as he tried to shake it all out of his mind. He wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol, the sheer absurdity of it, or the mix of his both his frustrations and his deep desires, that was slowly gnawing at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the idea had started to sound more enticing by the second, and the more he thought about it, the more he seemed to have been entertaining it.

The buzzing silence of the apartments halls seemed to stretch on forever, and for a moment, Hyunjin considered walking away. But there was something inside him, a pull, an uncertainty, that made him stay. His hand trembled slightly as it hovered over the keypad, the weight of his next move pressing on him. He was completely aware of how ridiculous he probably looked, how his thoughts sounded.

   “You’re completely messed up, Hyunjin.” He muttered under his breath, hesitating a final time before punching in the code and pushing the door open, his heart racing despite himself, mentally preparing himself for whatever awaited him. 

The living room was dimly lit, a few of her things still scattered over the table but mostly piled neatly, her laptop wide open but the screen darkened. Hyunjin could hear Y/N moving around in the kitchen, the gentle clinking of spoons and the hum of the kettle faintly echoing through the halls. He took a slow breath, bracing himself as he made his way toward.

And as he approached the island counter, he saw her busying herself with a cup of tea, placing it carefully on the counter next to her. She turned, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw him standing there.

   “Ah—you’re back.” Y/N’s voice was softer than usual, laced with guilt. 

The tension that had erupted between them those hours ago, had faded. But the air was still thick with so many unspoken things, a quieter atmosphere settling in its place.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on her, his thoughts at war with one another. Part of him wished she was still agitated, still glaring at him. So he could act on the bartender’s suggestion. But the thought made him cringe almost instantly. He shook his head to get rid of them, forcing a casual stance as he cleared his throat, casting a glance at the mug she had placed on the counter behind her.

   “H-have you cooled down?” He asked, tilting his head as he walked around the island, leaning against the refrigerator.

Y/N sighed, her eyes falling to the floor.

   “I’m trying to.” She muttered, turning to face him fully, exhaling slowly as she tried to gather the words before speaking.

   “Look… I’m sorry about earlier.” She finally looked at him.

   “This season is incredibly busy for the gallery, especially with that project, having someone around during this time is new to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I know you were just trying to help.” There was a genuine regret in her voice, and the furrow in her brows spoke more of her frustration with everything else, than with him.

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a faint smile, touched by her apology. He hadn’t expected it. He thought she’d be too proud, too stubborn to admit when she was in the wrong. But deep down, maybe he had known that she wasn’t that kind of person. That very softness beneath her tough exterior, both puzzled and drew him in. 

Amongst all the other things about her that drove him mad.

And like a switch, his smile faded, a darker mood taking hold. Hyunjin’s gaze flickerd to the mug across from him, the warmth of the moment suddenly slipping away, suddenly welcoming another kind of tense atmosphere.

He inhaled deeply, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat. 

   “Do you think the tea will help?” His voice was softer.

He couldn’t bring himself to say more. His words felt heavy, and there was something else lingering on the tip of his tongue. Words that he was afraid to voice. 

Yet at the same time, his heart raced. His thoughts fueled by the liquor and a sudden sense of boldness. He could feel his cheeks growing hot as whatever he was about to say burned within him.

   “I hope it does. I had to step away to keep my mind off of all that.” Her eyes pointed towards the mess across the apartment.

After a brief pause, Hyunjin stood up straighter and took a step closer. 

   “I could think of another way to keep your mind occupied for… a bit.” He said, his voice dropping lower, his eyes gleaming with something she couldn’t quite place.

Y/N, unaware of what he truly meant, moved closer to the island counter, her fingers lightly brushing over the surface as she searched for a coaster for her tea. She hadn’t yet noticed the shift in his tone or the shift in the atmosphere around them.

   “How?” She asked, her voice slightly more curious now, though she still hadn’t fully realized what he was hinting at. 

She was too focused on her task, looking away from his gaze for a moment, her attention purely on the mundane search, not yet grasping anything at all. Oblivious to his gaze, lingering over her figure, his cheeks tingling, skin burning from all the emotions swirling within him, from the liquor he downed.

And for a brief second, Hyunjin felt his blood run cold, that voice that had been whispering dark thoughts, sounded louder than ever. His gaze trailed over her, falling to her short nightgown, which stopped just above her knees.

Then, he made a move.

His arm reaching out almost instinctively, daringly. Fingers brushing gently against the hem of her dress, almost ghosting over the fabric. The touch was light, but still, it caused her to jump slightly. Her eyes shot down to his fingers and then flicked up to meet his gaze, which was now intense, focused entirely on her. 

The air between them shifted, suddenly thickening with an unspoken tension. This time she felt it, heavily aware.

   “Let me help you destress.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper, a boldness in his eyes that contrasted sharply with the vulnerability he felt inside.

For a moment, Y/N was speechless. Her mind raced, the gears turning as she processed exactly what he had been implying, of his touch. She could feel the weight of his gaze, and the realization of what he was suggesting hit her all at once. Her heart skipped a beat, searching his expression for any sign of mockery, for a mischievous glint. But all she found was raw, focused eyes locked onto hers.

Usually, she would have fired back with a snarky comment, but instead, she found herself captivated by his sudden and surprising offer. By his dark gaze staring into hers. Her eyes dropped back to his fingers, now gripping her dress lightly, waiting for her words.

To either tell him to get lost, tell him he had gone crazy, mad. That he was a lunatic.

Or, to make his next move.

   “Y-You’re not seriously suggesting what I think you are, right?” She stammered, trying to sound composed despite the flush of excitement and nervousness bubbling in her stomach.

   “It’s a-a surefire way to relieve your frustration.” Hyunjin replied, his voice surprisingly steady, almost matter-of-fact. 

   “According to the internet... and some other sources.” He met her gaze, hoping it was enough to justify whatever nonsense he knew he was spewing right now. 

She raised an eyebrow, pressing her lower back flush against the island counter, her thoughts swirling.

This man was a player, a womanizer. Of course this would be his “surefire” method. But still, the thought of it all made her stifle a laugh.

   “You’ve actually researched this? Gosh, Hyunjin…” She let out the laugh she failed to hold back, her body shaking from the amusement she hadn’t felt in her hectic week.

This man truly had a knack for saying the most ridiculous things with the most sincere expressions.

Hyunjin’s expression softened as he watched her laugh, his gaze warming. A sight he had missed.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, but before he could fully process it, his hands were on her hips. With a gentle, but swift lift, he placed her on the counter. The sudden shift reflexively made her yelp in surprise. 

Her hands shot up to hold his shoulder, steadying herself from the sudden act. Their faces were now close, with his body pressed against hers, her big eyes wide in surprise as she glanced between his equally startled gaze. The press of his fingers still on her hips, were firm and searing over the material of her dress. 

   “Y-you’re actually serious about this?” She almost gasped in a surprised whisper.

Hyunjin leaned in, their closeness felt electric, charged with an unspoken spark that made Y/N feel goosebumps. But he only stared, his eyes trailing over her expression, of such surprise he hasn’t seen before.

God, did she look pretty.

He wanted to kiss her. To finally press his lips onto hers like he had imagined all those times his eyes lingered. But he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Else he’ll lose himself. 

Instead he gulped, his expression softening.

   “Let me…help you please.” Hyunjin whispered, his breath carrying a faint scent of liquor. 

The low, pleading tone in his voice made Y/N’s stomach twist in a way she hadn’t expected. But what surprised her wasn’t just his offer, but the desperate edge in his voice. Hinting at something deeper.

For a moment, she just looked at him, her heart pounding. Taking in the undeniable vulnerability in his gaze, and despite the underlying amusement she felt from boldness of the situation, it felt like this was something he wanted more than she really needed. 

But still, he was awaiting her consent. For her to either pull him in or push him away. 

Y/N’s fingers tightened on his shoulders, her gaze dropping to the buttons of his shirt as her thoughts swirled in ways she never imagined they would.

The sane side of her told her to not give into his seductive tone, his intense gaze. He was a playboy, working his charms to lure her into whatever game he wanted to play.

While another part, the curious one. The one that couldn’t help but peer into his eyes, told her to allow him to do whatever he wanted. To show her what he was offering.

She didn’t think she would be curious about the ways Hwang Hyunjin worked his magic. 

His offer was enticing. It would be a win-win situation, at least. Or so she told herself to quiet the uncertainty gnawing at her. Trying to convince herself.

But seeing him standing here, so close, so…obedient. She realized that she had actually been very curious.

Suddenly, Y/N’s mind drifted back to his recent behavior. 

Every glance he gave her, every touch that lingered, spoke of something that had been building between them for months. Something she had been too blind to see until now. Sitting on the cold counter, the heat of his fingers pressing into her hips made it clear. 

Somewhere along the way, she had started wondering about that side of him.  

The Hwang Hyunjin who effortlessly charmed women, the playboy she heard tales about. The one she had expected to see more of even after they were married, yet he seemingly hid away after their ceremony. It all stirred a new curiosity in her, one that she couldn’t ignore. 

And here he was, standing before her, asking to reveal just that.

Y/N found herself biting at her bottom lip, eyes boring into his.

   “Fine…G-go ahead. Show me how you’ll help.” She managed to breathe out, blinking with surprise at her answer, at the way the words came out of her mouth.

Her greenlight made his gaze falter for a moment, stare at her with his own surprise. Her unexpected approval was something he honestly didn’t expect. Yet here she sat, curious eyes peering into his.

But of course that doesn’t last long enough, his hands instantly tugging at her dress, balling the fabric in his fists to hike it up. Rushed actions that made her gasp, gripping at his shoulder to stay still. The feeling of his hands traveling up the skin of her bare thighs, suddenly all she could focus on.

Hyunjin doesn’t wait another second, his movements chased by both the adrenaline coursing through him, and the fear that she might take back her words. 

   “J-just relax. I’m-I’m here to make things…right.” His lips brushed against her ear in a whisper.

He was stumbling over his words. Something that had never happened to him. And it made his heart beat even faster, suddenly realizing that he was nervous. Suddenly scared, excited.

While Hyunjin battled his inner turmoil, Y/N felt herself stiffen under his touch. In a state almost opposite of what his words had coaxed her to relax into. His breath fanning against the shell of her ear, combined with the warmth of his touch grazing against her thighs, made Y/N’s heart race in a way she hadn’t anticipated, suddenly looking forward to his…unconventional, but daring approach of helping her. 

Her eyes fluttered, unknowingly tugging him by his shoulders. She could smell his cologne, mixed with that earlier scent of the drinks he had, and she found herself inhaling it, closed eyes trying to focus on how hot his fingers felt pulling down her underwear.

They were off in a swift action, discarded without a second thought. He took a small step back to look at her. Hyunjin’s eyes darken with that same glaze of emotions that kept making its appearance ever since he stood in front of her. 

The one she failed to recognize. The one that was clearly of a hunger. A deep desire so evident in his eyes, she could already feel the wetness pool in between her legs, clenching tighter.

The gallery director stared intently at the sight of her trophy husband, his lean figure slowly getting down on his knees, settling in front of her legs. 

It was a slightly fascinating sight. Watching this man drop lower. 

She would have never thought that this would ever happen. 

Never imagined seeing Hwang Hyunjin on his knees for her. 

Her trophy husband was about to go down on her because he wanted to help relieve her stress. Because she was such a cranky pain in the ass, he needed to do something about it.

Or so he claimed.

His fingers pressed firmly against the soft skin of her calves, trailing up to slowly part her legs. To reveal her glistening pussy, a sight that made him inhale sharply, his heart beating erratically against his chest. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to her attentive gaze, her awaiting eyes wondering what he’ll do next. Teeth biting back at her bottom lip.

How he was going to help her. 

The gallery director’s husband had been waiting for this moment since the day he realized how badly he wanted her. How badly he wanted to taste her, to fuck her and have her scream nothing but his name. 

He knew he was getting ahead of himself. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of other things besides this moment that was too good to be true. Worried that he would wake up and realize it was all but a dream.

Still, in his dreams he was able to please her. And he wanted to do just that. 

Hyunjin doesn’t waste any time. Already diving in, spit-coated tongue licking a long stripe into her folds. An action that has Y/N instantly arching her back. At the exhilarating feeling, the somewhat foreign feeling made one hand slap against the cold counter edge, the other reaching down to tangle fingers into his hair, instinctively pushing him deeper.

Hyunjin groaned at her actions, at the feeling of her being so close to him, her fingers in his scalp.

At her taste. Something he’s dreamed about, thought about when he jerked off.

She tasted sweet, so sweet, he groaned against her once again, louder. Exhaling a breath as he continued swirling his tongue in her.

   “F-f-fuck!” She gasped sharply, eyes knitting shut.

His plush lips closed around her clit and began to suck, pulling back to messily lap at her slit with his tongue before repeating the same actions in a pattern.

A rhythm that had her trembling in his grasp, yet her body reacted on its own, almost pulling herself off of the counter, pushing herself forward to chase his mouth. With fingers gripped so tight at the edge of the counter, her knuckles turned white, her ankles locked behind his neck to push him deeper. Her fingers in his hair, tugging at the locks. 

   “Sh-shit!” She began to grind her hips against him, chasing her orgasm. 

Hyunjin could tell she was close, her thighs attempted to clench, squirming under his hands that firmly kept them apart. 

She was breathless, shamelessly rocking herself into his mouth at a faster pace, eyes screwed shut, head falling back. 

She was close, so freaking close. And her husband could tell.

   “Let go baby.” He murmured into her, “let it all go.” 

His voice reverberated against her, sending tremors throughout her body, pushing her off her edge as she did just as he ordered. 

A high-pitched squeak escaped her lips, and suddenly she saw stars.

Her intense orgasm washed over her, and he continued to lap through it, licking her clean. Once the last few waves of the immense pleasure faded and her rocking slowed to a stop to finally begin catching her breath, Hyunjin pulled back, face gleaming in her arousal, sheen of sweat on his forehead, his disheveled hair sticking to his face. 

Intense gaze taking in her from below, radiating, beautiful.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and close, unable to focus. Her breath was shaky, trying to catch herself, body feeling light. She opened her mouth to say something, attempted to say anything, but couldn’t, suddenly feeling spent. 

The husband was quick to get on his feet, holding her by the hips once more, before she collapsed into his chest, drained from the intensity of her pleasures. 

Drained from the stress, the exhaustion. Everything that seemed to be weighing her down had seemed to escape with her release.

And she felt light, like she was floating, unable to hold herself up.

He let out a breathy laugh as his fingers gently pushed back a strand of her hair, the soft motion almost tender as they slid down to her jaw. With a subtle pull, he lifted her chin, coaxing her to look up at him, peering into her hazy eyes.

   “Now, did that take your mind off of whatever was making you so cranky?” He mused, lips still covered in a sheen of her release.

She stared up at his smug smile. The one that always seemed to get under her skin, that managed to draw out the competitive streak buried deep within her. 

And yet, for once, she didn’t want to wipe it away. 

There was something about the challenge in his gaze, the way it lingered with a mix of amusement and something else, something harder to place, that made her hesitate.

She didn’t want to make this smile fade.

   “Y-Yes.” Was all she managed to quip, breathless.

Hwang Hyunjin really lived up to his reputation.

But all the notorious Hwang Hyunjin with the playboy reputation could think about now, was how he needed to be buried between her legs every waking moment. 

The thought of being so close to her constantly, of living in her heat if it were up to him, consumed his mind. 

He dropped his hand from her face, giving her the space to steady herself as she dropped her face into his chest. Afraid if he looked any longer into her eyes, he would cave and press his lips onto hers.

That he would go too far and she would see him as nothing but Hwang Hyunijin, the playboy, the womanizer.

Incapable of real connections.

Incapable of love.

His heart raced uncontrollably, pounding with a fierce intensity as he held her close, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings while he stood there cradling her in his arms. 

Aware that she probably was not thinking the same.

And once again, Hyunjin was forced to accept that he was completely fucked.

But the fleeting moment, the intimate entanglement between the husband and wife who truly had an unusual dynamic, faded as fast as it had arrived.

The exhaustion, the liquor haze, had finally caught up to Hyunjin, who found himself waking up the next morning alone. 

No sign of his wife.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! (18+) - @jellyleggz, @binniesbabe, @bookswillfindyouaway, @lemonn015, @scarlet789, @onlyhyunjin, @freekyfangirl, @candyquokka, @jehhskz, @stayjinnie, @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23, @kpopjackie, @rundontwalkshesaid, @sheerfreesia007, @thecutiepieme, @danihwang882, @hyunebunx, @seeeeking-skz, @hanadulsetaad, @velvetmoonlght, @alrm02, @tirena1, @cybergracie, @notevenheretbh1, @piscesrising01, @alisonyus, @hyuneyeon, @broken-glowsticks, @modesttiger, @gnabnahcbby, @hanniesdegree, @lenfilms, @sushiinmidnight, @chrisbangsass, @fixation-dump, @minluvly, @loxgirl2004, @aeri-skzver, @ellemir2404, @dessianna1, @suzyhhj @d34thon2legs, @hityoulikebahng, @tsunderelino, @amenabiii, @shhyucm, @mariahxrrera (47/50) (please ask to be tagged if you intend on interacting!)

[curtins]

🌿 I LOVE YOU SO MATCHA! — gojo satoru sfw!

prologue. → green was the color of life, and gojo satoru, in all his contradictions, carried life in the way he loved recklessly, laughed shamelessly, and held you like the universe began and ended with you. 🌿 🤍 part of the cookbook (@antizenin)

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

but green is the colour of earth. of living things, of life. and of rot. — unknown.

warnings+. sweetness and established relationship, there's angst in this i genuinely couldn't help it, reader wears a dress in a scene, mentions of injury!

word count. 4k! song inspiration. luther — kendrick lamar, sza

a/n. i'm doing the sukuna shibuya bow from making another predictable twist and ending. but i actually rlly loved writing this, this fic is gonna stay with me i fear <3 gif made by me!

mp3. if it was up to me, i wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy. i'd take away the pain, i'd give you everything

most people think of gojo satoru in shades of blue.

not the soft and wistful kind that paints summer skies, or the quiet ripple of a lake at dawn. no, they think of an unearthly blue. sharp and electrifying, the kind that stings your eyes and lingers even after you look away.

the shocking azure of his cursed technique, like lightning bottled and ready to shatter the earth. or maybe it's the endless stretch of his eyes, the kind of blue that is so bright, you may burn yourself if you look too long.

to everyone else, gojo is blue. bold, and unrelenting and impossible to ignore.

but to you, gojo satoru is green.

it took time for you to notice it. green doesn't always shout or demand attention. it waits quietly in the background, sometimes content to let others take the stage.

but once you saw it, it was everywhere. it bloomed and took over your life.

the café smells like freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, and the faint sweetness of jasmine blooms sitting in a vase by the window. it's a quiet day, the kind that only seems to exist when gojo has finally managed to wrangle some rare time off.

your boyfriend sits across from you, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, grinning like he's thought of something utterly brilliant.

"okay, hear me out," he says, holding up a hand like he's about to make a groundbreaking declaration that will shatter the earth and bring world peace, "you're the oolong one for me."

you pause and scrunch your face, mid-sip in your tea, "please don't."

gojo leans forward, his grin growing wider ever still, "no? how about this? you're simply tea-rrific."

you bury your face in your hands, as an elderly couple looks at the two of you oddly, "you're unbearable."

"tea-rrific. like terrific," gojo laughs, wagging a finger like a professor lecturing his class, "get it? because -"

"oh, i get it," you cut in, shaking your head but still smiling at your entire world of a boyfriend, "i just refuse to reward bad behaviour."

but you should know better than to think you've tampered down on the relentless force that is gojo satoru. he is relentless in all things, especially when he decides to make you laugh. he's launched into an entire string of tea-related puns, each one worse than the last.

chai think you're amazing! we're a matcha made in heaven! leaf me alone, i'm on a roll!

and somehow, somewhere between the chai and matcha, you start to notice the green.

the delicate stems and leaves of the jasmine says slightly as the café door opens and closes, catching your eye. their soft green isn't loud nor is it attention-seeking. just quietly present, a backdrop to the white blooms that adorn their head.

it is the kind of colour you don't realise you've been missing until it's suddenly there.

you glance at the window, and the trees lining the street are the same, their leaves dappling the sunlight as they sway in the breeze. even the café walls, painted in a muted, sage-like shade, seem to glow just a little in the sunlight. a backdrop to gojo's charming antics.

he's still in front of you, his hair gleaming the same dewy shade as the jasmine blossoms. so animated as he explains why leaf me alone was an under appreciated pun.

there's green in him too, you think.

not in the obvious sense for gojo satoru is far too outwardly vivid to be defined by something as soft as the green akin to your matcha. but it's still there, beneath the flash of his grin and the sharpness of his humour. in the way that he leans closer to make sure you're still smiling.

in the way he somehow turns the whole world into a quiet garden on days like this.

"okay," gojo says, leaning back to cross his arms over his crisp white tee, "i'll stop. but admit it, i brewed up some great ones."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "fine. one of them was acceptable."

gojo gasps, clutching his chest like you've delivered a fatal, cleaving wound, "one? one? i give you comedy gold, and the love of my life repays me like this!"

the jasmine leaves quiver again as your knee knocks up, shaking the table, "you're impossible."

gojo smiles softer this time, tipping his head as though you've delivered the greatest compliment in the world, "yeah. but love me so matcha!"

the strongest sorcerer in modern history is cracking himself up again, and you can feel the warmth of the colour green around you. in the leaves, in the dappled light, and the man across from you who somehow makes the world softer, and sweeter. and full of life.

there's a matcha-green hoodie in gojo's closest. it's oversized, cozy and worn just enough at the cuffs to feel like a bit of a secret. something loved so well that it holds pieces of him in the quilted fabric.

it's nothing like the sharp navy and indigo of his uniform that he wears on duty, where every line is a untouchable warning. no, these clothes are the opposite for you. it's familar. it's gojo's off-duty self, the one that the rest of the world doesn't get to see.

gojo only really wears it at home, when he's padding around barefoot with tousled, snowy hair brushing over his forehead as he pretends to tiptoe (and fails spectacularly) to let you sleep in. it's the kind of green that somehow makes the mornings softer, as if the day dances quietly around you too.

it's also the green of the evenings when he drapes himself over the couch in your apartment, long legs dangling over the armrest while he beckons you with a lazy smile.

the fabric is impossibly soft against your cheek as you settle into his broad chest, and his arms loop around you like they were always meant to belong there. it smells like him too, a little like cedar and a little like pine. and you think it might be your favourite place in the world.

one time, you stole it.

you hadn't planned it. you had been cold, and it had been right there. before you knew it, you had been walking around the house in its oversized embrace.

when gojo had caught you for the first, his grin stretched wide, playful and wicked.

"hey, well," gojo had drawled, leaning against a doorframe like a cartoon cat that had finally cornered the mouse, "look who's going through other people's closets."

you tugged the sleeves further over your hands, "it's comfortable. you take my shit all the time."

"it's cute on you," gojo says, sauntering closer and placing his large hands on either side of your face, "but you know...no one looks cuter than me."

you snort and turn your back on him, which only encourages for the six-foot-three man to chase after you. and even though he claimed he needed it back, he didn't get it for a week.

maybe because you refused to give it up, or maybe because every time he saw you in it, he just shook his head, grinning as if he’d been caught in the middle of something he didn’t mind losing.

when gojo invited you back to the family estate, you had braced yourself for grandeur. looming gates, and endless halls. the suffocating weight of tradition.

and yes, the grandeur had been there. but what lingered most in your memory wasn't the vastness or the architecture. it was how beautiful it was.

there were several shrines that lay nestled among the estate, hidden away on plots of land. this one had been worn soft by time, covered in moss and nestled among the larger stones.

spring had woven itself into every corner of the estate, from the blossoms swaying overhead to the long grass brushing against your ankles as you walked.

gojo stood a few steps ahead of you, glancing back as if to make sure that you hadn't disappeared, hadn't been swallowed up by the earth. he was dressed in far more traditional robes for once, navy linen lowing and rippling as he moved.

but there was something endearingly out of place about him here, like a bird perched on the wrong branch.

"spring makes it look nicer than it is," he said, running his fingers over the soft, white edges of his undercut. you can hear the underlying vulnerable note in his seemingly casual voice.

you didn’t reply right away, too caught up in the way the sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms, scattering dappled green shadows across the worn stone steps. when you reached the base of the shrine, you paused, taking it all in: the moss, the blossoms, the breeze, and him.

"it's beautiful," you said finally, and he gave you a lopsided smile that felt more honest than any grandeur could ever be.

he waited for you at the top of the steps, his gaze steady and warm as the spring air. for a moment, he looked like he belonged here, a part of the ancient garden itself. like a carven statue created by loving hands, forever memorialised as something not quite human. but you knew better.

he didn't like this place — this house that felt more like a museum than a home, this estate heavy with the weight of a family name he wore like armour. since arriving, he’d been quieter than usual, his usual spark dimmed by old memories and expectations, and constantly bowing servants who called him lord and master gojo.

but now, as gojo watched you walk through the long grass, something shifted. his shoulders have relaxed, his hands hung loose at his sides. and then, so softly you almost missed it, he says, "i want to marry you."

you froze, the words catching in the breeze between you.

he wasn’t looking at the shrine anymore, or the blossoms, or the sky. gojo satoru was looking at you, his blue eyes calm and unwavering, like he’d found his answer in the very place he’d been avoiding.

"i know it's not much right now," he added, his voice low and rough around the edges, as though he wasn’t used to baring this part of himself, "and i don't care what the elders say. but you're the only person i want."

at the edge of the jujutsu high campus, there's a vending machine of incredible drinks. its green paint had faded, and chipped from the years of stubborn sun and countless coins clinking into its slot.

it hums faintly, blending into the scenery like a reliable friend that carried you through your own years of high school.

somehow, it's become your spot. not officially, no. there was no grand declaration, no conscious agreement and treaty. but after his classes, he always ends up here.

and so do you.

it starts the same way each time. gojo satoru saunters up to his fiancé with that unmistakable grin, white hair catching the light as if he was trying outshine the sun itself.

you watch as he slides a coin into the slot with theatrical position, with his finger hovering dramatically over the buttons. like he's choosing between life and death, instead of commercial canned drinks.

"one iced matcha," gojo announces in a tone meant for a training arena, and not a quiet campus corner. his hand arcs in an exaggerated flourish as he offers you the drink, "for the love of my life."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "flattery won’t get you anywhere," you reply, accepting the can and cracking it open with practiced ease.

it's a dance you've done a hundred times, but somehow it never gets old. he leans against the vending machine, towering and smug, watching you take a sip like he’s waiting for something.

"don't even think about it, satoru" you warn, holding the can just out of his reach.

but it’s gojo, so of course he thinks about it. he grins wider — how is that possible? and in one fluid motion, he leans in and steals a sip before you can react.

"i will get revenge, always so difficult," you weakly huff, but your fond smile gives you away.

"difficult to resist," he counters, winking like it’s a challenge, "besides," gojo adds, holding the can up to the light as if inspecting its soul, "it tastes better when it’s yours."

you snatch it back, pretending to glare at him, but he’s already leaning closer, his hand brushing yours as he reaches to press another button.

"second round?" he asks, as if this isn’t already part of his plan.

the vending machine hums again, green and steady and familiar, as it delivers another drink with a satisfying clunk.

green had grown to be more than just a colour. it had been a thread that stitched its way through your love story. quiet and constant.

so when the day came, when your heart thudded heavier than ever before and your hands shook just slightly as you smoothed down the expensive fabric, it only made sense that the colour of vitality and new beginnings was everywhere.

the first ceremony itself had been steeped in tradition, from the elegant folds of your formal robes to the rhythmic chants that seemed to echo on in your head. you were grateful for its beauty, but it was the dinner afterwards that felt like yours truly.

the reception was tucked away in a corner of the sprawling grounds, where the tables were adorned with white lilies so luminous they seemed to carry their own light. they sat in vases of muted jade, the colour rich and soft, like the grass after a spring rain. the candles flickered in delicate green holders, casting shadows that waltzed across the tablecloths.

gojo was, of course, the first thing you noticed when you stepped into the space. he wasn’t wearing robes anymore; he’d swapped them for a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly, save for the ever-so-slightly loosened tie (because he couldn't help himself). his hair, as untameable as always, gleamed in the low light.

and then there was you, in a flowing green dress that felt like you’d stepped out of a dream and into his orbit. the soft fabric caught the candlelight, shifting from deep emerald to pale sage as you moved, shimmering. you thought about how this colour, the one that reminded you of leaves and tea and moss-covered shrines — had always meant life to you.

gojo's grin when he saw you was wide enough to rival the moon, and he made a show of adjusting his tie like a movie star spotting their co-star for the first time, with an awfully cliché wink.

"you clean up nice," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief, and then something more love-struck, "my beautiful wife. i must be the luckiest man on earth."

"and you’re just realising this now?" you teased, the soft fabric of your dress whispering as you stepped closer.

dinner wasn’t a grand banquet, but it was perfect — just your closest friends, a table overflowing with warmth, and gojo stealing glances at you as if you’d disappear if he looked away for too long. between bites of food and sips of something sweet, he leaned over to whisper ridiculous commentary in your ear about your guests: how much wine nanami had thrown back, or how shoko had situated herself perfectly near the food.

but then, in quieter moments, he’d reach for your hand beneath the table, his thumb tracing soft, lazy circles on your skin.

the night blurred into laughter and soft music, of digital cameras and drunk speeches. the green hues around you shifting like memories folding into themselves. you caught sight of the lilies swaying gently in the breeze and thought about how gojo had insisted on them when you’d been indecisive.

"white lilies mean devotion," he'd said, smirking like he knew something you didn’t.

"and green?" you'd asked.

"green's for us," he replied, "or for you. i know you like it so much. an' it's cute when you're sentimental."

by the end of the night, gojo's tie was completely undone, and his jacket hung over the back of a chair. he pulled you onto the dance floor despite your protests that your feet hurt, practically yelling in their strapped heels.

"then i'll carry you," he said dramatically, dipping you halfway before breaking into laughter when you yelped.

the two of you swayed there, in the gentle green glow of the reception, his arms wrapped around you and the world falling into place. your husband smelled faintly of the lilies and something warm you couldn’t name. you're sure if you put pen to paper, like a poet of old, you might be able to name that feeling.

"you know," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, "i've been to a lot of ceremonies, but this one’s definitely my favourite."

"oh? why's that?" you asked, resting your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"because this time, i got to marry you."

you used to love the colour white. it had been the colour everything pure. everything soft that made you feel safe. the brightness of it had brought a clarity to the world.

it was the colour gojo's unruly hair, glistening in the sun like a crown. you had been so enamoured, watching him run slender fingers through soft strands. to you, white had always been perfect and radiant in all of gojo's unbridled glory.

but the winds of the snow storm must have shifted.

you still remember that day so vividly, as if your mind could never forget it no matter how much you wished it could. the white falling on the streets of shinjuku, covered with layers of freshly fallen snow. pristine and untouched.

but there had been a sickening crack of flesh against pavement, the wet thud that only those who've known death too closely can identify.

you had seen it before you'd even registered the horror of it all. the red, the bright crimson that bled into the snow. staining it, warping it. turning it into something so vile. the ministrations of ryomen sukuna.

gojo's body, cleaven and unmoving. the garnet staining his snow-white hair as it pulled from under his spine. the quiet calm that had settled over his face, as if he had seen something so wondrous in his last moments.

that snow, once so untouched and pure, was suffocated by the iron scent of blood. and at that moment, when you had lost him forever, was the moment you knew that white would never mean purity again.

the colour of white, the colour of christmas eve — no longer held any softness for you. it wasn’t the gentle lightness of his hair; it was the cold, hard truth of loss. it was the memory of blood seeping into that pure snow, the last thing he saw before his life was ripped away.

now, you avoid it. you avoid white whenever you can, as if by doing so, you can erase that moment from your mind. you keep your house warm and cozy, perhaps almost unhealthily so, with shades of warm and soft earth tones, and you dress your daughter in colours that remind you of life, of what was still worth living for. but white? it's a shadow, a reminder. so, you avoid it.

but then, one afternoon, a few months later, your daughter tugs at your hand, small and warm, a soft giggle escaping her as she skips ahead of you. you can’t help but smile at her, at how much of gojo satoru is in her — the way she laughs without hesitation, the way her energy fills up every room, every corner.

you're walking down the street, the air still crisp from the tail-end of winter. it's one of those moments when the world feels ordinary, but in the best way possible. sunlight filtering down between reconstructed buildings, the bustle of the city in the background, your daughter's little chirp bubbling in the space between. you're lost in her, in the joy she brings.

but then, you stop.

you don't mean to. you didn't even notice where your feet were taking you until it happens. your gaze drops to the ground, and there it is.

that spot. the place where it all happened. the very spot where the white had been stained with merlot, the place where gojo's life was stolen from you. the pavement looks the same, the cracks just as they were before, but there's something different now.

a tiny green plant, barely noticeable, growing through the crack in the concrete. the leaves are soft, a rich shade of green that seems to pulse with life. it's small, fragile, but determined, its roots pushing through the cold, unforgiving pavement.

you swallow, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"satoru..." you whisper to yourself, but your daughter’s voice pulls you from your morbid, breaking thoughts.

"look!"

you glance down, seeing her kneeling beside the plant, her tiny hands reaching out to touch it with wonder in her eyes.

"it's pretty, isn’t it? can i pick it?" she asks, her voice light and innocent.

you nod, tears welling up in your eyes that you refuse to let fall. you hold your breath, trying to steady your heart. it's absurd, you think, how something so small, so simple, could make you feel so much. how something as insignificant as a sprout could make the weight of the world feel just a little bit lighter.

nitrogen, iron and phosphorus are all found in human blood. and hey! they're also needed for plants to grow!

you hear the voice of teenage shoko, kicking her legs back as you tried to finish your homework, right before yaga assigned you another detention. but now the memory comes back to you, sickens you. tears at your heart.

you crouch down beside her, your fingers gently brushing against the plant’s leaves.

"yeah, it's pretty," you whisper, voice barely audible. “best let it rest where it is, yeah?"

you've taken a deep breath and stand up, your daughter tugging you along as she continues on her path, unknowing, innocent. entirely unaware of the memory of her father, lauded as a hero and as a sharp weapon by all those who knew him.

most of those who knew him.

but you glance back at the little plant, the green leaves waving in the soft breeze, and for the first time in months, you don’t feel the crushing weight of grief.

you just feel… a little less lost. and for the first time, the colour green feels like something more than a memory of gojo satoru.

more of a promise for the future, for those who lived on.

[atopfourthwall]

Hello again! I've been meaning to ask for some time, as it's been a while since I watched the movie "Constantine." I remember you citing the version of the Devil in the movie as one of the best you ever saw. As someone who only remembers a gravel voiced guy with black gunk on his feet, could you elaborate on your view? I'm very interested.

So, to start with - the way he arrives. He may come up from hell, but he seems to descend like an angel - even dressing in all white as if he still was one and yet dripping in gunk. It's a corruption of his previous profession and life. Then of course there is the gunk itself that's a bit on the nose, yet fits so perfectly as a descriptor of him: he's OILY. He looks unwell - sweaty. bleached skin, sunken-in dark eyes; he just looks unpleasant to be around. I remember reading once that representations of lust shouldn't be a sexy woman, but rather a horny frat bro because if it's supposed to be a sin, it should be a negative representation of what it truly represents and the devil here kind of embodies that. You don't want to be around this guy. He probably smells like urine and rot. He's not putting on a facade or trying to tempt anyone - he's just being this nasty, gross dude who has a nice suit on. As part of that, he's positively giddy about taking Constantine's soul - almost shaking at times he's so happy about this moment. It builds on that gross aspect of him, especially when he gets mad that his moment that he's been waiting for - taking John's soul - is interrupted because John tells him about his son's plot in the other room and is almost going to bite him and instead just kinda licks him or something. And yet he's still the devil during it - being cruel and mocking during it all like when he plays with the lighter. But despite all these aspects that make him come across as just small and unpleasant, we're quickly reminded that he's still THE DEVIL. He stops the scheme effortlessly, even humiliating a former colleague by getting them kicked out of the club and is willing to be fair - would have even let Constantine live if that's what he wanted because of this even knowing that this moment that he craved had slipped away from him. And then he finds a way to turn things around as Constantine almost slips away again, saving his life to fight another day. And just for the performance overall, Peter Stormare has a great, expressive face and range to his voice that he utilizes to amazing effect throughout the scene. He is both silly and terrifying and yet really showing a version of the devil we don't see often - the dude you really don't want to be caught in the orbit of.

[betweenstorms]

Hi hello, hope you're having a good day Stormy! Your writing is always so good sjdjsjd always makes my day when I have the chance to read em! Not sure if you take requests, so if you don't, you can always ignore this! But I have a pretty interesting prompt that might pique your interest 👀

We all know Simon doesn't show emotions easily, usually the people very close to him will spot out the minute details that give away how he's feeling. Small twitch of the lips, tense of shoulders, that kind of thing. But how about reader who is slightly different, in that they also don't show emotion that well, but it's because they forget to? Sounds confusing I know, but for me I forget my mouth exists and constantly forget to smile at people when greeting them. So for reader, the only way others know how they're feeling is with the tone of their voice.

Hope that isn't too confusing to understand! It's a very weird thing I have, and have not encountered anyone else who share this lmao

Anywayyy have a great rest of your day, and remember to hydrate and eat something! 🖤

- Biscuits 🌺

Hi Biscuits! 🌺 First of all, thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so sorry it took me this long to reply, but I’m excited to let you know that my interpretation of your idea is finally here! I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed exploring such a unique and fascinating prompt. I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and don’t forget to hydrate and eat something too! Thank you again for trusting me with your idea. 🖤

You didn’t need to look up to know the weather outside was a dreary shade of grey.

Strangely, it was always just grey here. Overcast skies that seemed to stretch endlessly over the joint military base somewhere in Germany, as though nature itself had resigned to a dull monotony. Not that it bothered you. Weather, much like people, had a way of projecting its moods that you’d long stopped trying to interpret. Clouds could loom ominously, sunlight could break free in radiant streaks, but it all felt the same to you.

Emotions were like that too.

Amorphous, indistinct, slipping through your grasp when you tried to name them. For as long as you could remember, you’d lacked the innate ability most people seemed to have, the quick flick of recognition when faced with a scowl, a smile, or a furrowed brow. You saw the movements of mouths and brows but couldn’t place what they were supposed to mean.

To you, the dance of expressions was no more than a series of movements, the subtle lift of lips or tilt of a head stripped of the weight they were meant to carry. And so, your own face reflected the only truth you understood. Your own face usually mirrored the neutrality of the weather, a blank slate that rarely shifted unless you consciously willed it to.

Price and Gaz were out on a recon mission, leaving Soap, Ghost and you on the foreign base. With no immediate orders other than to wait for their return, the three of you had the rare luxury of downtime. However, despite this, none of you strayed from your usual discipline. The day began at dawn, as always, with the shooting range, gym sessions, or reviewing intel as needed. The quiet efficiency of your routines spoke volumes about the kind of people you all were, professionals through and through. There were no shortcuts at this level, no slacking off. You were the best of the best after all.

Each of you carried that mantle in your own way.

Soap’s energy crackled like a live wire, his easy laughter and constant chatter an antidote to the grim seriousness of your world. Ghost, by contrast, was the anchor—silent, steadfast, a figure carved from stone. And you? You found yourself somewhere between them, detached yet watchful, a quiet observer tethered by a relentless need to prove yourself.

You liked working with Ghost in a way that was difficult to articulate, even to yourself. There was no camaraderie in the traditional sense, no banter or easy companionship, but strangely, there was something deeper, something unspoken.

Your lieutenant moved through the world with the same deliberate calm that you valued in yourself, his every action sharpened by precision and purpose. You respected him for that, his unrelenting dedication, the quiet strength he carried like a shield, and the way his presence seemed to command gravity itself, pulling the air taut whenever he entered a room. And somehow, Ghost felt like a reflection, as though the world had cut both of you from the same cloth. He, too, was a figure cloaked in neutrality, his mask hiding not just his face but the emotions that might lie beneath.

Even with the lull in operations, you didn’t take the task force’s trust for granted. You had fought hard to earn your place here, shedding blood and sweat to prove yourself to Price and the rest of the team. The task force was a strange paradox—these were people you trusted implicitly with your life, but you knew almost nothing about them on a personal level. That was just how things worked. Bonds forged in war zones didn’t require knowledge of favorite foods or childhood dreams. Still, you couldn’t deny a small, nagging curiosity about the men you worked with—especially Soap and Ghost.

Both were enigmas in their own ways.

Soap, all charm and humor, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, yet you suspected there was more to him beneath the surface. Ghost, on the other hand, was a locked vault, his emotions buried under layers of stoicism and a mask that seemed to shield more than his face. 

You had been with the task force for four months now.

It had been an honor to receive Price’s invitation, and though you felt pride in your accomplishments, showing it outwardly had always been a challenge. Ever since childhood, you’d struggled with recognizing and expressing emotions.

Your family had always been understanding, brushing it off as an eccentric quirk, and you’d never sought a formal diagnosis. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel, far from it. You just didn’t show it in the usual ways. Smiling, frowning, or even appearing annoyed often felt like trying to mimic a foreign language without understanding the grammar.

As a child, you were always the odd one, the kid who stared too long, too intently, when other children laughed and cried. Your parents, to their credit, were patient. Your mother, warm and pragmatic, would gently remind you to smile when greeting your grandmother or reassure you when a relative’s frown went unnoticed. “They’re not cross, love,” she’d say, her hands light on your shoulders. “Just thinking. You’re fine.”

But the world wasn’t as kind as your family.

As you grew, the peculiarities of your face invited suspicion, sometimes ridicule. “Why don’t you ever smile?” teachers would ask, their tone suggesting you were withholding something from them, as though joy was a currency you refused to spend. Friends, when you had them, would mistake your silence for coldness, your neutrality for indifference. By the time you reached your teens, you’d grown used to the questions and assumptions, building an armor of pragmatism around yourself. What was the point in trying to explain something you didn’t fully understand?

Somehow, your body simply forgot the script.

You forgot to move your lips when greeting a loved one, forgot to furrow your brows when confusion took hold, forgot to cry when sadness settled heavy in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel. Feelings bloomed and churned within you like storms on a distant horizon, but they never found their way to the surface. You were a house with locked shutters, and though the light was on inside, it rarely spilled out to illuminate the exterior.

Oddly enough, this trait had become an asset in your line of work.

Pragmatic, objective, and unshaken by emotion, you excelled in high-pressure environments. It was this armor that had served you so well in the military and later in the SAS. Neutrality was an asset here—a foundation upon which precision, discipline, and logic could thrive. Emotions muddied decisions, and in your line of work, clarity was king. When the invitation to join Task Force 141 had come, you’d accepted with quiet pride, though you’d made no effort to show it. Your calm, measured responses made you reliable and efficient, qualities that had undoubtedly caught Price’s attention.

But outside of missions, it created a distance between you and the rest of the team. Building camaraderie required a kind of emotional fluency you didn’t naturally possess, and though you didn’t dwell on it much, it sometimes left you feeling a little isolated.

Four months in, you’d cemented your place among the team.

They trusted you on the battlefield, and that was enough. Personal bonds were optional here, weren’t they? You’d told yourself that many times, but the truth was harder to swallow, trust in war didn’t translate to understanding in peace. Soap’s boisterous banter, Gaz’s easy charm, and Ghost’s impassive stares all existed in a language you couldn’t quite speak.

This morning, however, was different.

Breakfast was normally a solitary affair, a brief respite from the day’s structured chaos. But today, Soap and Ghost had joined you in the mess hall, their presence sat heavy at your periphery. You sat across from them, meticulously working through your meal while Soap tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythm that suggested trouble. Neither of them was eating, and their idle presence felt vaguely unsettling.

It didn’t take long for your suspicion to be confirmed.

“Y’know,” Soap began, his voice lilting with mischief. “Been meanin’ to ask you somethin’, lass. How’s it possible to sit there, day in, day out, with a face that doesn't move? Like a bloody mannequin, you are.”

You raised a brow, a slight, subtle motion that could have meant anything, but didn’t stop eating. Soap took this as an invitation to continue.

“You don’t smile,” he declared, as though it were a groundbreaking revelation. “Or frown. Or even twitch your face half the time. How d’you do that, eh? Are you secretly a robot?”

“I’m not a robot,” you replied, your tone flat but perfectly even.

He leaned back, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re like a statue, don’t even look annoyed when I’m talkin’ shite at you. Bet you couldn’t make a face to save your life.”

You paused, setting down your fork with deliberate precision.

“I can make faces,” you said coolly.

“Aye, then let’s have a wee go at it. Give us a smile, eh?” Soap’s lopsided grin widened, and he glanced at Ghost, who remained silent but was now clearly paying attention, his hazel eyes flicking toward you. You blinked at them, debating whether it was worth the effort to argue.

Instead, you attempted to comply.

The corners of your mouth lifted in what might have passed for a smile if not for the stiffness in the gesture. It felt awkward, like wearing someone else’s skin.

Soap slapped the table, his laugh booming across the hall. “Creepin’ Jesus, that’s tragic! Like watchin’ a bairn try to wink for the first time.”

“Better than watchin’ you try to think,” Ghost deadpanned, not missing a beat.

Undeterred, Soap straightened up. “All right, fine. Forget smilin’. Show us angry.”

You weren’t bothered by Soap’s teasing, not at all.

Sarcasm and banter weren’t your battlefield, and you didn’t need to win these small wars of wit. If anything, you found his energy oddly endearing, a welcome distraction in the quiet monotony of downtime. So you furrowed your brow and narrowed your eyes slightly, aiming for something approximating irritation. Soap burst into another peal of laughter, throwing his head back and letting it roll out uninhibited.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” he howled, tears of laughter glistening in his eyes.

Ghost sighed, setting his tablet down with deliberate care.

“Enough, Johnny.”

Soap held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin lingering like a spark refusing to fade, but your attention had already wandered, your gaze tracing their movements like studying a map of familiar terrain. Soap’s restless energy hummed, his gestures loose and unrestrained, a stark contrast to Ghost’s deliberate stillness, every shift of his body a calculation.

And then his hazel eyes met yours—sharp, unflinching, and so steady it rooted you in place. There was no hostility, no question, only a quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter, a strange, warm stirring low in your stomach that you didn’t dare acknowledge. His gaze held you captive for a beat too long, the air around you heavy, before he turned away, leaving behind a weight you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t quite shake.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice lower now, more measured. “Faces lie. It’s your voice that tells the truth.”

You blinked. “My voice?”

Ghost nodded, leaning back slightly. “You can hear it. If you listen proper. More honest than any forced smile could ever be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

Compliments, if that’s what this was, were scarce in your world, as rare as sunlight piercing through storm clouds. From Ghost, they were practically unheard of. Yet his words lingered, carrying a weight that pressed gently against the walls of your chest. A quiet warmth began to unfurl there, blooming softly like a flame coaxed from dying embers, a mixture of gratitude and something unnamed, something that settled in the hollow spaces you hadn’t realized were waiting to be filled.

Soap, visibly startled by the uncharacteristic remark, stared at Ghost as though he’d grown a second head. “Bloody hell, Lt.,” he muttered. “Didn’t know ye had a poetic streak.”

Your lieutenant paid him no mind, his focus already returning to the tablet in his hands, as if the moment had never existed. But you remained still, the weight of his words draping over you like a thick, unshakable cloak. Honest. The word lingered, unfamiliar yet strangely resonant, threading itself into the quiet spaces of your thoughts, where it settled with unexpected ease. Soap broke the moment with a playful nudge to your shoulder.

“Still, you could do with learnin’ a proper smile, eh? Just in case.”

Your eyes rolled, an instinctive motion this time, unbidden but oddly fitting. Soap’s laughter rippled through the room, bright and careless, but it barely registered, a distant echo against the steady hum of your thoughts. Ghost’s words lingered, heavy with meaning, a rare compliment that pressed itself into the quiet corners of your mind with a significance that eclipsed anything you’d ever known. Perhaps, you mused, letting the warmth of the moment settle over you, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Maybe that was something you could finally understand.

[damiansgoodgirll]

WOOOOO THE REQUESTS ARE BACK!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this day.

SO

Would it be entirely insane of me to ask for a Damian x Fem! Reader comfort fic.

Basically

Damian gets home and finds reader has had a horrible week while he was gone and he just comes home, gives her all the love.

Kisses, cuddles, hugs…comfort food.

JUST LOADED WITH ALL THE FLUFF

What ever you want, just fluff and tlc. Maybe even comfort sex if you wanna throw smut in there cause comfort.

What ever you want. I enjoy anything you write tbh.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ a lot of comfort and love

walking zombie

you were tired.

no, not tired - exhausted. and not only physically but mentally too.

as christmas approached, work suddenly multiplied and you found yourself from working almost 12 hours a day.

barely getting any sleep or eating unhealthy food, you got to the point where you were almost ready to explode.

you and damian barely saw each other. if you were at home, he was travelling for work and if he was at home, you were either at work or passed out in bed.

you missed him. you missed his comfort, his hugs, his sweet kisses, his smile, his hands over your body. you missed him and you felt like you’ve been neglecting him, hating yourself even more.

damian understood.

he knew how much you loved your job even if he didn’t agree on the overworking part, he still supported you and tried to help you as much as he could around the house.

you didn’t know how it happened but on friday afternoon you got to leave work earlier. a smile spreading over your face as you ran into your car and drove back home.

there was peace as damian wasn’t home yet - he’s been working almost all week and you couldn’t wait to see him. he was supposed to come back around dinner time and a sweet idea of cooking him a welcome home dinner crossed your mind but the moment you stood up and reached for the kitchen, all of your energies left your body.

you loved damian so much but you weren’t in the mood for cooking. you weren’t in the mood for making a mess in the kitchen knowing that you would have to clean up everything. you just weren’t in the mood.

instead, you opted for taking a warm shower. you needed to release some stress and a shower was all that you needed. looking for something to wear, you found a damian’s hoodie and a pair of his boxers - you loved the way his clothes smelled of him - so you opted for those.

once in the shower you felt all your muscles relax and thinking that the weekend was approaching put you in a good mood. you already imagined yourself spending all weekend in bed with damian, eating chocolate and watching romantic christmas movies - that was your meaning of paradise.

feeling a little relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and did your short skin care routine before wearing your boyfriend’s clothes and heading back to the living room.

you were so eager to see him after a week that you tried your best to stay awake and wait for him but the moment your head touched the comfort of your couch, you were far gone.

a creaky noise woke you up. coming from the front door, your eyes opened a little and saw damian’s figure standing in front of you as he was putting his suitcase on the floor.

“damian…” your tired voice made him turn to look at you.

“hey mi amor, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up” he immediately apologised when he saw your sleepy face.

you fell asleep? “what - what you mean? what time is it?”

“it’s already nine o’clock” he smiled.

“what? i’ve slept for three hours? i wanted to make dinner for you and me…i can’t believe i slept all this time” you were slightly disappointed in yourself. you wanted to wait for him. you wanted to welcome him home and yet you managed to fall asleep.

“woah, mi amor, take it easy, it’s okay, you were tired and you rested a little bit, nothing’s wrong with that…” damian slowly approached you and sat down on the couch next to you.

“i wanted to make something nice for your welcome home” you confessed making him smile even more “but i fell asleep, i’m sorry…”

“why are you apologising hermosa?” his soft voice asked.

“because i really wanted to do something for you…but i just had the worst week of my life, i really missed having you here, i even took a shower to relax myself and i still managed to mess it up…” you didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable but the week that just passed took a big toll on you and you were feeling all of the stress and anxiety left behind.

“you don’t have to do anything for me hermosa” his hand gently took your chin and made you look into his eyes “you had a rough week and you have all the right to take time for yourself…in fact, why don’t you stay here, you can rest a little more if you want, i’ll take a quick shower and then i’ll order take out for the both of us? i missed you so much this week and i wanna take care of you…”

how could you say no when he asked so politely?

“okay…” you gave up knowing that he wouldn’t take a no for an answer.

“perfect” he smiled before leaving a gentle peck on your lips “rest a little mi amor, i’ll wake you up when food comes, you look like a zombie”

you laughed a little “i feel like a zombie…”

“that’s why you gotta rest” he reminded you.

softly closing your eyes, it took you less than a minute to fall back asleep. damian was cautious and trying to make less noises possible as he moved around the house.

quickly washing himself, he changed into more comfortable clothes and ordered some food. he unpacked his suitcase and once everything was done, he sat on the couch next to you. turning the tv on, he put on something fun to watch as his mind wasn’t in the mood for some kind of weird plots.

feeling a shiver down his spine, he looked at you and saw how curled up on yourself you were. he took a fluffy blanket and gently covered your body.

hearing a knock on the door, he stood up and got the food.

“amor…” he whispered in your ear, trying to wake you up gently. leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, you felt something tickling you “wake up princesa, food is ready…”

yawning, you opened your eyes and the first thing you noticed was the blanked upon your body. before you could ask damian about it, he answered for you “you seemed cold, i wanted you to be comfortable” he said.

your heart melted. damian was so thoughtful and you knew you couldn’t live without him “thank you” you genuinely smiled.

“shall we eat? cause i’m starving” he joked making you smile.

“oh absolutely…”

“here, come here baby, i wanna feel you close” damian patted next to him as you sat back on the couch “no, not there, here” he pointed to his lap.

“how are we going to eat in that position?” you asked.

“trust me, i’ll find a way, i just wanna have you close” and so you sat on his lap.

it was a little uncomfortable for him to eat but he wouldn’t tell you. he missed you and he knew that you missed him too. from the way you were laid on his chest, your head between his shoulder and neck as you ate the hamburger he got for you, watching whatever the tv was playing.

you missed soft moments like those.

once finished damian insisted that you stayed there on the couch as he cleaned the coffee table from all those food papers.

“how are you feeling hermosa?” he asked once he sat on the couch with you in his lap again.

“better…”

“yes?” he softly asked.

“yeah, i feel like it’s you…you got me in a good mood” you snuggled your head between his shoulder and face again as you inhaled his scent.

“well, i’m glad to hear that” he smiled “you tired?”

“no, not physically at least, even if my body it’s a wreck” you joked but before you could speak, damian’s hand slipped under your shirt and began to massage and softly stroke your back.

“relax your body baby, and relax your mind…i’m here now” he whispered before his lips touched the skin of your face “relax against me” and you did as he told you.

while his hand was working magic on your back, his lips kept leaving soft kisses over your face, making you completely relaxed into your lover’s arms.

“we’re gonna stay in bed all weekend baby” he whispered making you nod your head “and i’m gonna properly take care of you, you need to relax and rest” and you honestly loved that idea.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he softly looked down at you.

“thank you, for everything…”

“don’t thank me, i love you, i love taking care of you” he smiled before gently kissing you. you missed having his lips on yours “close your eyes baby, let me take control…you’re safe”

and in fact, you knew that you were in good hands.

[m-jelly]

His shirts

Mafia dad Levi x fem reader

It'd been a long few days for Levi and being away from his family was something he hated, but sometimes he had to go away with Erwin and a few others to do business in another country. Normally, Levi would take you and his daughter along with him to enjoy a foreign country, but it was too dangerous this time. So, you, his goddess of a wife and precious little baby girl were left at home with his mum helping out.

With arms full of presents and a smile on his face, Levi strolled from his car to his home on the hill with glorious views of the city and sea with mountains behind. It made him smile that as a couple you'd gone from a tiny apartment to this large house. The two of you had worked so hard together.

He pushed open the front door and slipped his shoes and coat off. He slowly made his way into the large living room to see the sunken sofa and sitting area in front of the TV was occupied by you and his three-year-old daughter.

Levi's heart skipped a beat when he heard you giggle at your daughter. He blushed at seeing you and his daughter in shirts of his. He moved closer until he was close to the steps down to the sofa area. Levi's feelings and emotions kept changing. He was aroused by you being in just his shirt and thigh-high socks with your thick thighs he loved biting on show. He felt like he could just melt into a gooey mess at seeing his daughter in his shirt that was too big for her.

Daisy stomped her little feet up to her bear and picked it up into the air. "Sleep with the fishy!" She then threw the bear down to the ground. "Bye-bye." She huffed before looking up and noticing Levi. Daisy's face lit up in pure delight. "DADDY!"

You flinched and turned your head to see Levi. "Hey, grumpy kitty. Welcome home."

Daisy ran over to him with her arms open. "Daddy!"

Levi placed the gifts down before scooping his daughter up into his arms. "Hello, my cute little flower. Have you been good for your mummy?"

She nodded. "Yes! We played, we cuddled and mummy told me so many stories."

"Sounds like a lot of fun." He walked down the steps and sat on the sofa next to you, you were clearly buzzing with excitement at seeing him but you were happily waiting. "I'm glad."

"I slept in Daddy's bed."

"You did? Were you keeping mummy company?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He pocked her cheek. "Thank you." He kissed her puffy cheek. "So, what was this sleeping with the fishy?"

She grinned. "You say it!"

He released a long sigh. "You're right..." He placed her down on her feet. "I have a few presents for you." He leaned over and grabbed the ones for her. "Go sit with your teddy and take your time with them, okay? I have a very beautiful mummy to kiss."

Daisy hugged her gifts as she giggled. "Thank you, daddy. Give mummy lots and lots and lots of kisses!"

He watched her run off before slowly turning to you. He shifted closer as excitement throbbed inside him. "Bunny." He growled your pet name with a deep voice laced with desire. "I missed you." He caressed your cheek. "Come here."

You dove into his arms. "Mm, Levi."

He dragged you onto his lap and inhaled deeply allowing him to enjoy your scent. "Fuck, I missed you so much." He tilted his head and kissed you. The two of you moaned and purred in delight. "Oh, bunny you are a delight and pleasure."

You massaged your fingers in his hair. "So are you." You shifted on his lap. "Promise you're staying a while?"

"Promise. No more going away for days."

"Good, 'cause I might have to lock you up."

He chuckled. "I think I'll like that." He massaged your thighs. "So, my shirt huh?"

You nodded and looked over at Daisy playing with her new toys. "We both missed you. Daisy got very teary-eyed about it so I told her what I do when I miss you, I get one of your shirts. She said we should wear them and we have been for two days now." You looked back at Levi. "That okay?"

"More than okay." He nuzzled his nose against yours. "Wear it later?"

You saw the sparkle in his eyes and knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I will." You nipped his neck. "I'm all yours." You slipped off his lap making him whine. "Now! I think you should help your daughter make her toys sleep with the fishy."

Levi slipped off the sofa and sat on the floor. "Alright, little flower. Who we making sleep today?"

Tag list under the cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman