#that says 'i flexed and the sleeves fell off'

[gyroshrike]

*Jayce walks in*

"Viktor, show him which shirt you're wearing."

[I flexed and the sleeves fell off]

[Your ph is way too high]

I asked for meljayvik prompts, but actually had a real hard time drawing the other night. I did manage to doodle some sillies though! A prompt from someone on bluesky about Mel and Viktor wearing Jayce's shirts.

[23victoria]

𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝔂 𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓳𝓪𝓬𝓴

​​pairings: 𝓯1 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

synopsis: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

word count:

authors note: 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮, 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓾𝓭𝓸 ;)

𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

Lewis

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but watching Lewis chop down a tree was more attractive than you could’ve prepared for. His beanie sat low over his braids, and his tailored winter coat somehow still showed off his lean figure as he worked. He was taking his time, pausing every now and then to adjust his grip on the saw.

“You okay over there?” he called, catching you staring.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you replied, lips pressed together to keep yourself from grinning too wide.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re making it very hard to focus on Christmas right now,” you said, pushing off the car to walk closer.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to sawing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the man chopping wood like he’s auditioning for a holiday romance movie,” you teased, standing just close enough to admire the way his muscles moved under his coat.

When the tree finally toppled over, Lewis turned to you, his smile soft and inviting. “So, what do you think? Still distracted?”

“Very,” you admitted, stepping into his space and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Think you can distract me more?”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.

Charles

Charles was doing his best, really. He had one hand on the axe and the other bracing the tree, his face scrunched up in concentration. The axe was slightly too big for him, but he wasn’t giving up.

“Almost there!” he exclaimed, breathless, his accent wrapping around the words as he gave the tree another swing.

You leaned against the side of the car, your head tilted as you admired him. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. God, the forearms.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. “Take your time, baby. No rush.”

He glanced back at you, chest heaving, a strand of dark hair falling into his face. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason,” you replied, biting back a grin as you watched him plant his feet and take another swing.

When the tree finally came down, Charles threw his hands up in triumph, laughing. “Voilà!”

“Very impressive,” you teased, stepping closer to loop your arms around his waist. “You know, you look really good with that axe.”

His eyebrows raised. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Good enough to make me forget about decorating the tree.”

Carlos

Carlos had insisted on chopping the tree down himself, despite your offers to help. He had his jacket unzipped and his scarf hanging loosely around his neck, clearly starting to warm up from the effort. His strong hands gripped the axe expertly, his movements steady and deliberate as he worked.

“Looking good, Sainz,” you called, leaning casually against a nearby stump.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “I always look good, cariño.”

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed, your gaze fixed on the way his biceps flexed with each swing. You weren’t even trying to hide the fact that you were ogling him.

Carlos noticed, of course. “You’re not even looking at the tree.”

“That’s because I’m looking at something much more interesting,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

With one last swing, the tree fell, and Carlos turned to you, resting the axe on his shoulder. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re too attractive for your own good,” you replied, stepping closer and tugging lightly on his scarf. “Think we have time to christen the cabin before we decorate?”

His grin widened. “You read my mind baby.”

Max

You stood back, bundled in your warmest coat and scarf, watching Max work with the hand saw on the pine tree trunk. His jaw was clenched in determination, blond hair messy under his beanie, and his broad shoulders moving rhythmically with each pull of the saw. The man was efficient—grunting softly every now and then, his strength on full display.

“Almost there,” he muttered, glancing at you for just a second, flashing a confident smirk.

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip and crossing your arms. You weren’t even cold anymore, not with the way he looked like some kind of outdoorsy calendar model.

When the tree fell with a soft thud, Max stood up and leaned against the trunk, wiping sweat off his brow. “What do you think?” he asked, breathing hard.

What you thought was that he looked so damn good doing that, you wanted to drag him into the cabin and forget about the tree altogether. “Yeah… looks great,” you murmured, trying to keep your cool.

Max narrowed his eyes knowingly. “You’re staring, schatje.”

“Maybe I like what I see,” you shot back, smirking.

“Careful,” he teased, stepping closer with that cocky swagger of his. “We might not even get the tree inside if you keep looking at me like that.”

Lando

Lando wasn’t exactly the most experienced with an axe, but he was determined to prove himself. He stood in front of the tree, beanie crooked on his head, and his tongue sticking out slightly as he swung the axe.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you asked, hiding your amusement.

“I’ve got this!” he said confidently, though the axe got stuck in the trunk on his next swing.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, his cheeks red from the cold and his hair peeking out from under his beanie. “Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. He might’ve been struggling, but damn if he didn’t look good doing it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando asked, catching the tone in your voice.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your grin gave you away.

Lando narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” you replied, stepping closer and brushing some snow off his shoulder. “In fact, I think you look pretty hot right now.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Well. Thanks.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now hurry up before I get too distracted to wait for you to finish.”

Oscar

Oscar insisted he could handle chopping the tree himself, even though you’d offered to take turns. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, the soft rise and fall of his breath visible in the winter air as he focused on the task. His grip on the saw was firm, and his jaw tightened in determination with each pull.

You stood nearby, bundled up in your jacket, unable to stop staring. He wasn’t showy or dramatic like some of the others might be—Oscar’s charm was in how quietly capable he was, how his calm confidence made it impossible to look away.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you murmured under your breath, leaning against a nearby stump as your eyes trailed over the way his arms flexed with each movement.

He paused mid-saw, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smirk.

Oscar tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked closer. “My boyfriend looks very attractive chopping down a Christmas tree. What am I supposed to do, not look?”

His cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t just from the cold this time. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

“You love it,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Finish up so I can drag you inside and show you just how much I appreciate your hard work.”

Sebastian

Sebastian looked like something out of a winter magazine as he worked, his green jacket snug against his frame and his woolen hat perched perfectly on his head. He made chopping down the tree look effortless, his movements efficient and controlled as though he’d been doing this his whole life.

You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to suppress the utterly indecent thoughts running through your mind. Watching him chop wood should not have been this attractive. And yet.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed softly, tilting your head to admire the way his muscles shifted beneath his jacket with each swing of the axe.

Seb turned, catching your gaze, and a knowing smile spread across his face. “What’s that sound for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, though the way you bit your lip gave you away.

“Nothing, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, resting the axe on his shoulder as he walked over to you. “You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked, shamelessly letting your eyes sweep over him. “You look so good doing this, I’m starting to forget why we even need the tree.”

Seb chuckled, his gloved hand reaching out to tug you closer by the waist. “If we don’t decorate the tree, it won’t feel like Christmas,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Decorating can wait,” you murmured, tugging lightly on his scarf. “I have other priorities right now.”

Jenson

Jenson looked like he belonged in a holiday commercial as he worked, his scarf casually thrown over one shoulder and his jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the sweater underneath. He was taking his time, not rushing, his movements deliberate and precise as he wielded the axe with ease.

You stood nearby, watching him with an almost embarrassing amount of focus. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and the way his body moved with such confidence and control was doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn’t admit aloud.

“Mhm, mhmm,” you hummed appreciatively, your eyes shamelessly glued to him.

Jenson straightened, brushing snow off his hands as he turned to you with a smirk. “What’s with that look on your face?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning innocence even as your cheeks warmed.

“The one that says you’re not thinking about Christmas anymore,” he teased, resting the axe against the tree as he walked over to you.

You shrugged, tilting your head as you gave him a once-over. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend looks like he walked straight off the set of a Hallmark movie. How am I supposed to focus on the tree?”

He chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “So, what you’re saying is, I’ve distracted you?”

“Completely,” you admitted, running your hands up his chest.

Jenson leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about ways to distract you since we got here.”

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! ❥☽ @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206

[soov]

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the man felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real (work inspired by mr. queen!)

2024 © SOOV

[jobean12-blog]

Payback is Sweet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,113

Summary: You decide it's time Bucky experiences what's it's like to be you for the day.

Author's Note: I've seen a lot of these gender reversal tik toks where the girl pulls the stunts the SO usually does and it always makes me laugh so naturally here's Bucky getting his! HA! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you bunches Daisy my sweet🥰

Warnings: flirty, fun and sweet fluff

“Thanks for makin’ breakfast doll.”

You kiss Bucky’s cheek and then start to clear the dishes. He immediately gets up to help and loads the dishwasher, leaving behind a few random things that have to be washed by hand.

When he rolls up the sleeves of his Henley and begins washing them you slide up behind him and press your body to his. Your hands wander, grazing across the wide breadth of his shoulders before slipping under his arms to caress his abs.

His muscles flex under your touch and you lift his shirt, smoothing your fingertips along his warm skin.

He wiggles against you and when you move higher to pinch his nipples he let’s out a surprised hiss.  You give his pecs a few good squeezes and then saunter off to the couch.

He turns to give you a perplexed look but you pay him no mind and scroll through your phone.

Later, when he’s bent over and onloading the dishwasher you walk by looking for a snack and smack his ass hard.

With a yelp he stands up straight and stares at you.

“Doll?”

“What’s up Buck?” you ask as you search for the cookies. “Have you seen the Oreos?”

He just watches you silently.

“Oh! Here they are!” you sing before walking off with your treat.

That same night after the laundry is done you walk into the bedroom with the basket and drop it to the floor, taking out your clothes to fold them. Bucky comes out of the bathroom and gives you a kiss then goes to grab his own clothes and do the same.

As he’s bent over and sifting through them you situate yourself behind him and grab hold of hips, pumping your own against them in a rapid motion. He nearly falls over in surprise and you have to stifle a laugh before you go back to putting away your own things as if nothing has happened.

You can feel his intense gaze as you move around the room but you do your best to ignore him.

After the laundry is sorted you fall onto the couch and search through Netflix for something to watch. Bucky plops down next to you and pulls you against him, snuggling closer.

“Anything good?” he asks.

“Not yet,” you answer and hand him the remote.

With the movie long over you shift in Bucky’s arms, slowly starting to wake back up and realizing you both fell asleep on the couch. He’s still passed out but you manage to lift his metal arm off you and sit up.

You spot your banana, left on the coffee table from earlier, and your lips spread into a grin. With careful and quiet movements you peel it and turn to face Bucky, laughing when you see his mouth hanging open with his deep breathing.

Without thinking you shove the banana between his lips.

He starts to choke and sits up in a flurry of wild movements and muffled curses. When he finally calms down and catches his breath he looks at you and then at the banana and then back to you again.

“Did you just….? Was that…? WHY doll?!??!”

You fall over in a fit of laughter, curling into yourself and unable to respond.

You can hear his huffs and feel his eyes but it only fuels your giggles.

“I’d like an explanation when you’re done doll face,” he states, tone serious.

That quells your laughter and you shoot up and glare at him with your finger in his face.

“YOU…. want an explanation mister?”

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing your finger to drag you closer.

His hands land on your waist and he pulls you into his lap. “Let’s hear it. I wanna know why you’ve been groping me all day…smacking my ass, feeling me up, putting stuff in my mouth, humpin’ me…and then walkin’ off to leave me hanging! I’ve had blue balls all day!”

Your mouth hangs open and you blink several times.

“Is this the part where I stick a banana in your mouth?” he asks with a smirk.

Your eyes narrow and you grit out, “you really don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?” he says, taking your face in his hands.

“This is what you do to me ALL DAY EVERY DAY!”

His eyebrows draw inward and he begins to protest but you give him a warning scowl.

He huffs and sits back against the couch, taking you with him. He’s quiet for a while, clearly playing back memories of his crimes.

“Well…” he starts, his blue eyes wide, “I mean…sure I smack your ass…but I love your ass.”

“Mm hm,” you say with pursed lips. “And?”

“And…it’s hard not to squeeze your boobs when you’re washing the dishes. Your hands are busy and mine aren’t and I love your boobs sooo…”

“Uh huh Buck.”

“And how do you expect me not to want to stick it in every time you bend over…it’s like putting it on display and asking me not do one of my favorite things!”

He’s getting more and more flustered as he continues.  

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And I’ve never stuffed my dick in your mouth without you wanting me too!”

You stare at each other, both trying to hold it together but when you see the corners of his eyes start to crinkle you break and fall into his chest with a laugh.

“Ok, I’ll give you that one,” you mumble before sniffing his Henley.

He laughs harder, tightening his hold on you and then kissing any spot of your skin he can find.

“Do I sniff you a lot too?” he teases.

“You do, but I think I sniff you more,” you giggle.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you burrow into him, inhaling his skin.

“Just wanted you to get a taste of your own medicine,” you whisper.

You pepper his cheek with kisses and sit up to look at him, frowning when you see his expression.

“Bucky?”

“Do you hate when I do those things,” he asks quietly.

“NO!” you tell him. “I love when you touch me.”

“Are you sure?” he says, looking worried. “It’s because you’re my favorite and I love to feel you and touch you all the time.”

“Of course I’m sure baby, don’t worry and I know,” you assure him. “Today was a lot of fun for me. I loved getting my hands on you. Think I’ll do it more often.”

You smirk deviously then kiss his pouting lips.

“Ok good,” he whispers, slipping his hand behind your neck to keep you close. “Because today might have been the best day of my life.”

@hiddles-rose @goldylions @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989

[haoboutyou]

strong and independent (?!) | choi seungcheol

fluff, established r/s | 821 words | like one swear word

an: i fell sick again :/

divider credit

 “–and then he freaked out! It wasn’t even that bad!”

You giggle, the live feed of your best friend frantically waving her arms around as she dramatically retells a story enlarged on your laptop screen. The dying afternoon sun peeks from above your screen, golden hour flooding your apartment. You and Yerim have been on call for the majority of the afternoon, your sweet best friend’s voice accompanying you as you sit on the floor, trying to assemble a new Ikea dresser. The parts are scattered methodically as you slowly work your way through each drawer, Yerim’s voice spilling into your living room like a juicy podcast.

“Yeah? Then what did you do next?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

You send her a Look, one that tells her that you know her well enough to know she definitely did something. The camera does a good job of conveying your intentions because she sighs, and you throw your head back in laughter as she reluctantly jumps into an explanation.

“...So obviously, I have to–”

“I’m done!” You yell out, not caring that you’ve interrupted Yerim mid-explanation. She leans closer to the camera for a better look at the product of 3 hours of hard work, her face completely covering your screen. You pick up the laptop, angling it so that she can take a better look at it.

“Woah, Y/nnie! That looks pretty good!” If the camera is facing you again, maybe she can see how your shoulders have risen higher than Mount Everest. “That’s better than anything I’ve ever built.”

You both cringe, remembering the time Yerim tried to fix a new chair. She ended up fixing it upside down (how?!), resorting to calling you at 2am, crying for you to come over and fix it. Safe to say, she’s never touched another assembling project again.

Her lips jut out into a pout towards you when you place your laptop back on the coffee table. “How are so good with tools anyway?”

You just shrug your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just a strong, independent young woman who doesn’t need no man.”

“Yeah right, no man,” Yerim scoffs, making little quotations out of her perfectly manicured fingers. 

You throw her a questioning look as you get to clearing your surroundings while Yerim continues her story. Loose screws here, cardboard boxes strewn there– you’ve certainly created a mess in the living room, sitting right in the eye of the hurricane of it all. 

The front door swings open, signalling Seungcheol’s arrival. Your boyfriend walks in, takeout in hand as he smoothly removes his shoes and coat by the entrance.

“I’m home~”

“In here!” You holler back.

Shuffling towards your voice, he walks into the mess that is currently in your living room. His little figure appears in frame, prompting Yerim to wave at him.

“Hey, Seungcheol!”

“Yeri! Long time no see!” He places his stuff on the table and stoops to kiss the top of your head. “Hi, baby! Whatchu up to?”

“Cheollie~” You melt into his touch, leaning back against his legs. Your head tilts up as you bat your pretty lashes at him, arms spread out to highlight the new dresser. “Look what I did today!”

“You fixed it yourself?” You nod. He eyes the dresser, hand on his chin as he seemingly inspects it from all angles before giving a nod of approval. “Couldn’t have done it better myself!”

You grin at his compliment. Just as quickly, though, your lips curve into a frown.

“It’s a little too heavy though; I can’t carry it into the bedroom.”

“I can do that, baby. You’ve already done all the hard parts.” He pushes his t-shirt sleeves up, patting his arm as he flexes the muscles there. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting, okay?”

“Okay!” He makes a show of lifting the dresser, puffing his chest a little and letting his muscles ripple as he settles on a comfortable grip. “Bedroom right?” You hum in confirmation, and then he’s off to transport the piece of furniture to its rightful place.

On-screen, Yerim’s jaw dropped. She had literally just watched you single-handedly manhandle the dresser to its side and back up again, fully completed, mind you, just to place anti-slip stickers on its legs. Too heavy? Too heavy?!

“Don’t need no man, my ass,” she mutters loud enough for you to hear.

Your head whips towards her direction. “What was that?” Ugh, even your voice has turned sickeningly sweet at the sight of your boyfriend.

“Nothing~”

“Baby! Where do you want this?” Seungcheol’s voice rings out from down the hall. Yerim takes it as her cue to end the video call. 

“I’m gonna go now. Brunch on Sunday?”

“Brunch on Sunday,” You affirm. Yerim shoots you a thumbs-up before ending the call without so much as a goodbye. Strong independent young woman who doesn’t need to man, she scoffs. Yeah, right.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"banter, baby!!" ft. the monster trio!

you know sometimes sexual tension turns into petty fights ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader set-up: you knows and he knows and everyone on the fucking crew knows what is up between you two but instead of fucking it out (as you should), you both decide that it's banter time! warnings: petty insults, pettier them, pettiest you m.list

luffy:

- was luffy easygoing? yes. was he friends with almost everyone? yes. but was he also a dumbass who started to fight if he felt like it? also yes. - you're not sure how it started to be very honest, maybe you told him off and asked him to leave some food behind for the rest of the crew - that explained how the captain of the ship: strawhat luffy of the strawhat pirates, a man with an immense amount of bounty atop his head sat pouting in front of you with his arms crosses - that also explained why you also sat with your arm crossed, staring him dead in the eye - "luffy." you hiss, "stop being a baby and apologize." he looks appalled, "you stop being a baby and apologize." "you alMOST ATE ENOUGH FOOD FOR LIKE 8 PEOPLE FOR FUCKS SAKE?!" he looks solemn as he whispers, "a growing child has his needs" - what????? - you fold your arms tighter against yourself, causing your cleavage to be more prominent to his keen eyes, "you know somebody who looks at you wouldn't ever realize you're ace's brother." he pouts more, voice whiny now, "what does that mean?" "i mean he's so thoughtful and charming and a sensible human being and look at you, sharp as a butter knife!!" "YOU TAKE THAT BACK. I LIKE BUTTER!" - WHAT???? - "you're impossible." "uh-huh, uh-huh and i'm about to become more impossible now." "wha-" - dragged you to his room and showed you how impossible he can be

zoro:

- yeah, roronoa zoro was your sparring partner. yeah, one can say that you were a little bit mesmerized everytime his muscles rippled against his tight t-shirt. yeah, maybe you were drooling just a little - that shouldn't distract everyone from the fact that he was a smug, cocky asshole when sparring (its like you've been training since the age of eleven, stfu zoro) - "tch, yn. you can do better than that you know?" you hold back obscenities, narrowing your eyes, "shut up, how about that?" - he's sheathing the swords, standing against the deck with his arms crossed over his broad chest. he doesn't seem to have broken a sweat. a light hand runs through his cropped hair and he gives you a lazy smile, "you're quite weak, you know?" - he laughs a bit at your fuming state, finding some amusement in the way your cheeks burned an you held onto the dagger more tightly "you're pissing me off." your experienced hands throw the dagger at him, aiming for his head "am i?" his smile broadens as he catches the blade in his hands. he twists the blade on his palm, eying you leisurely, "maybe you should redirect all that anger into trying to land a blow on me, how about that?" - "you know, zoro." you plaster on a fake smile, "i have often heard a rumor about you" "what kind of rumor?" "ahh, just that you have a fourth sword." your smile drops, "just didn't know that sword was stuck up your ass." - his face fell for a second and then a smug smile crept across his face. his calloused hands found your wrist, leading you upto his room "how about we fact-check your rumor?" - uh lets say he does have a fourth sword. thats all.

sanji:

- honest to god, you had come here to help him prepare food. was he supposed to just be your cooking partner? yes. but were your eyes running over his flexing forearms as he hiked his shirt sleeves and cut something up? also yes. was it getting too hot here and you knew it wasn't even because of the food? also yes. - you were stirring the pot as sanji hovered behind you, his hand reached into the cabinet above you and momentarily, you were stuck between the stove and his body - and it's making you feel things - "sanji" you spoke abruptly, "get away from me, please." "huh?" he backed away, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue - maybe the blush on your cheek was evident because his expression changed from apologetic to smug. - he inched in closer, "oh, im sorry, my love" "stop it, stop getting so close to me" "oh, why? something wrong?" he drawled out "no, you just smell like fish right now. that's why, move it." - now why would you say that - he just chuckles, "you know, i am a cook, so i would smell like food. why? wanna devour me?" "no." you mumble nervously, "if anything, i am allergic to fish." - why would you say that again??? - "trust me, darling, you should give it a shot. maybe you'd like the taste?" he winked at the last statement - that night, you did give it a shot - maybe the cook is as delicious as the food he makes

a/n: listen to me, i just know sanji's banter will be straight-up flirting, i dont make the rules. hope you enjoyed lmao m.list

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Rhiannon Lewis HC's

pairing: Rhiannon Lewis x reader note: she's my pathetic, desperate, clingy gf so get your own.

Throws out an ily on the third date and tries so pathetically hard to play it off. “I love youR SHIRT. It's such a nice shirt.” Before running off to the bathroom to hide. She's so smooth. Pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for ten minutes before she manages to gather enough courage to come back to you and pretend nothing happened.

Keeps score of who’s texting who first and how often. It doesn’t stop her from still texting first, though.

Cannot ever get her hands out of your hair. She's so fucking gentle about it, caressing your hair and gently scratching at your scalp with her nails. Won't go near your hair on her bad days. Running her fingers along the back of your neck instead of your scalp. Fingers flexing like she wants to touch it but won't. Just doesn't trust herself not to hurt you. 

Always makes the house so fucking cold when you sleep over so you're forced to cuddle with her for warmth. Her ass is running around the whole house opening windows and creating drafts in the twenty minutes she has in between your text and when you arrive. Oh, also, all the blankets are in the wash but hers. So sad, guess you'll just have to share. Mysteriously, all of your long-sleeve shirts have disappeared too. Weird. 

Makes you do those stupid couple quizzes in magazines.

Rhiannon “We have food at home” Lewis. Once the initial excitement about having people to go out with dies down, she comes to an important realization: the more the two of you are out, the more you're exposed to dating options that aren't her. That's just not allowed. Doing anything and everything she can to keep you at home short of telling you to get your ass back inside. 

God forbid you try to go out somewhere without her. Why would you need to go see your friends while she's stuck late at work? Who's going to walk with her to the bus station? She starts asking so many questions about it, sounding so hurt that you eventually cave and don’t go. It’s not blatant manipulation, not when it’s you, but it’s usually enough to have you rethinking the whole thing anyway.

So jealous, but won’t directly say anything about it. Just starts holding onto your hand tightly with this strained look on her face.

She always misplaces your things when you're going out, or just if it suits her better. Your car keys? She hasn't seen them. The shirt you were going to wear that she doesn't much care for? You probably lost it. Here, she found her personal favorite of your shirts, though. You’ll find the other shirt mysteriously hung back up neatly in your closet the next day, like nothing ever happened.

Rhiannon wearing your shirts when she knows you're looking for them to entice you to stay home. Laying back on the bed, pouting up at you. Long sleeves that her hands just barely peek out of. “What, are you looking for this?” Making you give her a kiss if you want your shirt back to go to work. Maybe even two if she’s feeling greedy.

Tries to fix all your problems for you the second you mention them to her.

So incredibly clingy. If you're with her, you're with her. Sitting on the counter, talking to you while you cook or while you take a shower. You step out, and she's holding the towel out for you. Makes a show of breathing hot hair on it and pretends she was keeping it warm for you. You wake up every time with all four of her limbs wrapped around you, no matter how the two of you actually fell asleep.

She texts you about the weather all the time just as an excuse to talk to you.

So incredibly sensitive. Bottom lip trembling and tearing up because you said you weren't sure if you'd be able to make drinks with her coworkers tonight. Her ass trying to play it cool all like, “That's fine 🥺.“

Detailed plans for any outing she takes you on.

She plays those like little girlfriend games all the time. The like, "Would you love me if I was x, if I did y, if z happened?” Just hours and hours of it. It starts off so innocent and teasing, but it ends up getting really serious and real specific. “Would you still love me if I, like, killed someone? Accidentally. Hypothetically, of course.”

Gets really drunk one night and starts trying to get a concrete list of breakupable offenses. Pulls out this like color-coded Excel file of info with terms and conditions and shit. She takes this girlfriend stuff seriously, bro. Debating the details of it like she’s making a contract.

Stalks your socials all the time.

I just know Rhiannon pulls those like "ten tricks to keep a man" shit they have in those magazines on you. Goes down it in a list deciding what you react the best to. Tries maintaining eye contact for a freaky long time until you finally call her out on it. Insists that it’s not what she’s doing, but you realize she’s hidden all her magazines from you the next day.

Double, triple, quadruple texter. You better not fall asleep on her, or her ass will be knocking on the door within a few hours.

She likes to surprise you with dates, but she’s so horrifically bad at it. She gets nervous and ends up asking you a billion different questions about things you like, that by the time you get to the date you’ve basically already planned it all for yourself anyway. Rhiannon looks so proud of herself that you can’t bear to say anything about it.

You catch sight of her search history over her shoulder one night, and it’s like twenty variations of “What to do on a date.” / “What to say on a date.” / “Where to go to dinner in…”

[aryadelvich]

So it’s a mixture of all the requests you’ve send — thank you very much ! — Here’s the list :

1. Academic rivals to lover

2. First kiss, first time.

3. Summer love, camp counsellor trope

4. College loves.

Also thanks you for your comments, likes and reblog 🥹🫶 It’s warm my heart

I want to thank Spotify for accompanying me for this story ;)

Luigi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, his piercing green/brown eyes narrowing at you like you'd just declared war. His curls fell slightly into his face, and he pushed them back with a practiced flick of his hand.

You smirked, leaning forward on your elbows, your own gaze never wavering.

"And here I thought you were paying attention in class. Guess not. Maybe if you spent less time flexing your abs for the cheer squad and more time studying, you'd actually keep up."

His jaw tightened, but there was something else in his expression—something that made his usual cocky grin falter for half a second. He recovered quickly, though, flashing that signature smile that made half the campus swoon.

"Funny. I don't recall asking for your opinion on how I spend my time. But hey, if you're so obsessed with my abs, maybe I should start charging for the view."

You swear, if this guy wasn't built like a Greek god, you'd have punched him by now.

But you didn't punch him. Instead, you rolled your eyes, shoving your notes into your bag with more force than necessary.

"Don't flatter yourself, Mangione. Your ego's already big enough to fill this entire lecture hall."

He laughed, low and deep, and it grated on your nerves.

« Whatever you say, Y/N. But I'm gonna win the debate competition." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between him and you.

It's been two years consecutive that he wins this competition, and you knew that it's was your chance to prove yourself and for the same occasion humiliate him.

You stood abruptly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Good luck catching up," you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're gonna need it."

As your walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back like twin lasers. What the hell is his problem? You thought, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to acknowledge.

You've been at each other's throats since freshman year, competing for top marks in every class, trading barbs whenever you crossed paths. It was exhausting, infuriating... and somehow, weirdly exhilarating.

Two Weeks Later – Debate Competition

The auditorium buzzed with anticipation as the final round of the debate competition began. The topic? "Is capitalism inherently exploitative?"

You stood at your podium, pulse steady, determination burning in your chest. Across from you, Luigi leaned against his own, exuding the same infuriating confidence he always did. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, and he had that smug little smirk like he'd already won.

Not this time.

The moderator signaled for the debate to begin. Luigi started, his voice smooth and authoritative.

"Capitalism has lifted millions out of poverty, fostering innovation, competition, and economic growth. The free market incentivizes efficiency, rewarding those who work hard and contribute to society."

You let him talk, feigning disinterest as you twirled your pen between your fingers. When it was your turn, you took a deep breath and smiled.

"That's a nice fairy tale, Mangione. But let's talk reality. The wealth gap is wider than ever, workers are exploited for profit, and entire industries thrive on underpaying laborers while CEOs collect bonuses the size of small countries. If capitalism really rewarded hard work, explain why nurses barely make a livable wage while hedge fund managers get rich moving numbers around on a screen."

Luigi narrowed his eyes. "That's an oversimplification. The market adjusts itself. When a system is inefficient, it evolves—industries that fail to provide value either adapt or collapse. Competition forces innovation. If wages are too low, businesses will struggle to retain talent, and the market will naturally push salaries higher. Government intervention only distorts this balance, creating inefficiencies that harm long-term economic growth. The reality is, capitalism isn't perfect, but no other system has produced the same level of progress and opportunity."

"So you're saying child labor in sweatshops is just an inefficiency that'll 'fix itself'?" you responded smoothly.

A ripple of murmurs ran through the audience. Luigi hesitated—just for a second. His sisters, sitting with his parents in the front row, exchanged glances. You caught the small, proud smile on your own mother's face.

Game on.

You pressed forward, dismantling his every counterpoint with cold, hard facts. Every time he tried to regain control of the debate, you had an answer waiting. And for the first time since you'd started competing against him, he had nothing left to say.

When the final vote came in, the judges's decision was tight. But You won.

Luigi stared at the results, lips parted slightly, as if trying to process what had just happened.

"You okay there, Mangione?" you teased, stepping closer. "You look a little... shocked."

He blinked, then let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his curls.

"Huh," he muttered, shaking his head. "Didn't think I'd live to see the day."

You grinned, savoring the moment. "Better get used to it."

"You know," Luigi's voice was calmer now, lacking its usual teasing edge, "I didn't lose because you were better than me."

You turned, arching a brow. "Oh? So what, you tripped over your own ego and face-planted into defeat?"

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head before meeting your gaze. But this time, there was no smug grin, no hint of competition—just honesty.

"I lost because I didn't even believe what I was saying."

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Luigi sighed, leaning against one of the tables. "I've defended ideas in debates before. Won every time. But today? I couldn't bring myself to mean it."

He ran a hand through his curls, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"I know how messed up the system is. I know that no matter how much you try to justify it, it does exploit people. And the second I started talking, I realized I didn't have the same fire I usually do."

You crossed your arms, studying him. This was... unexpected.

"So, what? You're telling me you lost on purpose? »

"Of course not," he scoffed, shooting you a look. "I gave everything I had. But when you're up against someone who genuinely believes what they're saying? Someone who can argue with conviction? You don't stand a chance."

A slow smirk tugged at your lips. "Sounds like an excuse to me, Mangione."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up.”

You took a step closer, tilting your head. "You know, the whole point of oratory is to convince people, even when you don't believe in what you're saying."

Luigi's gaze flickered with interest. "So you're saying you could argue for capitalism and win?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "That's terrifying."

You grinned. "That's debate"

For a moment, there was silence. The usual sharp tension between you had shifted into something else—something quieter. He watched you with an unreadable expression, and for once, you didn't feel the need to break the moment with a snarky remark.

But then he smirked. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts, Y/N. Next time, I won't go easy on you."

You scoffed. "You didn't go easy on me. You just lost."

His smile faltered for half a second, then he laughed under his breath. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."

Before you could respond, your little sister, darted right past you, running up to him.

"Are you Luigi?" she asked, eyes wide.

Luigi crouched slightly to her level, flashing a grin. "Depends. Are you the little sister who's probably way smarter than your big one?"

Before your sister could answer, you grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back.

"Don't talk to him," you told her, voice mock-serious. "He's a racist."

The conversation halted. Luigi's jaw dropped slightly. His sisters, standing a few feet away, whipped their heads toward him. His mother gasped. Your own mother smacked your arm.

"Y/N!"

You snorted, unable to hold in your laughter. "Relax, he's not actually racist. He's just annoying."

Luigi sighed in relief. His father gave him a skeptical glance, and one of his sisters muttered, "For a second, I was about to disown you."

"You're not funny," Luigi grumbled at you, shaking his head.

"You laughed, though."

"Absolutely not." He said with a smile on his face.

"Mm-hm. Sure."

You turned to introduce your mother properly to his family, but out of the corner of your eye, you caught something—Luigi watching you. Not with his usual smirk. Not with irritation. Just watching.

— Summer Break —

The sun hung high over the camp, casting warm golden light over the rows of cabins and the dense forest surrounding them. You adjusted your staff T-shirt, feeling the heat seep into your skin as you made your way toward the main hall for the pre-opening staff meeting.

You had applied to work here months ago—decent pay, free lodging, and a summer spent beside the beach and the soft breeze of summer.

Or so you thought.

The moment you walked into the meeting room, your body froze.

Leaning casually against one of the tables, arms crossed over his chest, wearing the same staff T-shirt as you, was Luigi.

His curls were slightly damp, probably from the heat, and he looked up just in time to see you enter.

For a moment, the room went silent.

Then, in perfect sync:

"No way."

You both said it at the exact same time, staring at each other in disbelief.

Luigi let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You're kidding me."

"I should be the one saying that," you shot back, still processing the sheer misery of the situation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Volontarisme, obviously." He gestured at the staff badge hanging around his neck. "What, you think I came for the fresh air?"

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. The other counselors were already watching with amused expressions, whispering to each other.

One of the senior staff members, a woman named Maya, clapped her hands together. "Alright, I take it you two know each other?"

Luigi smirked. "Oh, we go way back."

You shot him a glare before turning back to Maya. "We're at the same university, don't know him."

"Right," Maya said, clearly entertained. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to work on your teamwork skills this summer."

Luigi grinned, and you immediately regretted every life choice that led you here.

— Three weeks later —

It had been three weeks since the summer camp started, and somehow, you and Luigi had mostly managed to stay out of each other's way.

Until today.

The staff had been assigned to deep-clean the common areas before the next wave of campers arrived. You were already in a bad mood from scrubbing floors when Maya, ever the troublemaker, sent you and Luigi to restock cleaning supplies in the storage room.

The small, cramped storage closet filled with bleach, detergent, and every cleaning product imaginable.

"Just grab what we need and get out," you muttered as you pulled open the door.

Luigi, of course, took his time. "Relax. It's not like the camp's gonna collapse if we take an extra minute."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a mop from the shelf. "That attitude is why you lost the debate, by the way."

Luigi snorted. "Oh, we're bringing that up again? Please, you won because I was morally conflicted."

"You lost because I was better than you."

"And yet, here we are, stuck working the same job," he pointed out, raising a brow.

You were about to fire back a retort when the door shut behind you.

Then, the distinct click of the lock turning.

Silence.

You whipped around. Luigi reached for the handle, twisting it. Nothing. He tried again. Locked.

He let out a sharp exhale, then turned to you, scowling.

"You couldn't keep the damn door open with your big ass?"

Your eyes widened.

Then, without thinking, you grabbed the nearest spray bottle and chucked it straight at him.

"Are you serious right now?!" you snapped as he barely dodged it. "We're trapped in a closet full of BLEACH, and you're blaming me ?”

Luigi ran a hand through his curls, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. "I'm just saying, maybe if you didn't take up half the doorway—"

"Finish that sentence, Mangione. I dare you."

He shut his mouth.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your fingers against your temples. "Unbelievable. I'm going to die here. With you."

Luigi scoffed. "Oh please, if anyone's dying first, it's me. You'll probably suffocate me before the lack of oxygen does."

You turned to glare at him. "That can be arranged."

A dozen ideas flashed through his mind—one in particular involving you and a rather strategic seating arrangement—but he wisely kept that thought to himself.

"I didn't say it was your fault—"

"Oh, shut up, Mangione." You pressed your forehead against the door, willing it to magically open.

No luck.

From the other side, you heard faint laughter.

The air between you shifted slightly. The usual sharpness of your arguments was still there, but being stuck in a cramped space with him suddenly made it feel... different.

Closer.

Too close.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from the door. "Let's just find another way out before we die of chemical inhalation."

Luigi smirked, that irritating confidence returning. "Scared of being trapped with me, Y/N?"

You shot him a glare. "Terrified."

His chuckle was low and amused as he crossed his arms. "Don't worry. I'll protect you from the scary cleaning supplies."

You could hear the faint click of his tongue, the sound of him shifting slightly behind you. His body grazed yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You reached for your phone, only to realize it wasn't in your pocket. Of course. You'd left it in your bag. "Do you have your phone?"

"No," he admitted, his tone clipped. "Left it in my locker."

Silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. The room was cramped, the shelves stacked with supplies pressing in on all sides. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence impossible to ignore.

You pressed yourself harder against the shelf, hoping to put some space between you and Luigi, but it was useless. He was right behind you, his chest nearly brushing against your back.

"Can you not stand so close?" you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I would if I could," he said, his voice annoyingly calm. "But there's literally nowhere else to go."

The room was suffocatingly small, and the faint scent of his cologne wasn't helping.

"Well, stop breathing down my neck," you muttered, hoping the irritation in your tone would mask the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

He let out a quiet laugh, and you could feel the rumble of it in the air between you.

"I'm not breathing down your neck," he said, his voice dipping lower, "but you do seem tense. Nervous, even."

Your jaw tightened as his words sank in, your irritation bubbling to the surface. You turned your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder, but immediately regretted it. He was too close. His face was inches from yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Back off," you hissed.

"Sure," he replied smoothly, "as soon as we figure out how to open that door."

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the lock, ignoring how your hands shook slightly as you fiddled with the knob. The silence stretched between you, heavy and thick, until you felt him lean in closer.

"Are you always this stubborn, or is it just when I'm around?" he murmured near your ear, his voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from reacting. Instead, you glared at the lock as if it were the source of all your problems.

"Are you always this insufferable, or is it just with me?" you shot back.

He chuckled again, soft and infuriating. "Maybe I just like seeing you flustered."

Your grip tightened on the handle as your heart raced. You weren't flustered. No. That's exactly what he wanted, and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't flatter yourself," you muttered, shoving the handle harder in a desperate attempt to break free.

But in the back of your mind, as you felt his warmth against your back and his calm, steady presence behind you, you weren't sure if you wanted him to move away after all.

And then it happened. You felt it.

A subtle shift against your lower back, a hardness you hadn't anticipated. Your breath caught in your throat, your body instinctively stiffening. No. This was not happening. Not with him.

But it was happening. You could feel him—every inch of him—pressed against you. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you heard it. A soft, involuntary sound that sent a jolt through you.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, thick with tension, and you were hyper-aware of every tiny movement. His hardness pressed more insistently against you, and you couldn't stop the way your body reacted.

Without thinking, you shifted slightly, just enough to feel him more fully against you. His breath caught again, and you heard him swallow hard.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice strained.

You didn't respond. Instead, you did it again, this time more deliberately. You rubbed against him, feeling the way he tensed behind you, the way his breath came in shallow bursts.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands gripping the shelves on either side of you. You could feel him struggling to stay still, to resist the pull between you. But it was too late. You'd already crossed the line.

You pushed back against him again, your heart pounding in your chest. This was wrong. He was your rival. Your enemy. And yet, the way he was reacting to you—the way his body responded to every move you made—was impossible to ignore.

He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His hips moved against you, almost unconsciously, and you could feel the heat building between you.

"You're not... stopping," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

"You want me to stop?" you shot back, your tone defiant.

“No,” he said between two moans.

He let out a low, guttural sound, his body pressing harder against yours. You could feel the tension in him, the way he was trying—and failing—to hold back.

And then it happened. He came.

You felt it—the way his body trembled against yours, the way his breath hitched, the way he let out a soft, almost pained moan. His hands gripped the shelves tighter, his body shuddering as he spilled into his pants.

The room fell silent again, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping both of you. You stood there, your back still pressed against him, your mind racing.

"Fuck," he muttered again, his voice rough and filled with frustration.

You didn't respond. You couldn't. Your body was still humming with the tension, the heat, the way he'd reacted to you.

And then, finally, he spoke again. "This doesn't change anything," he said, his voice low and firm.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to see his profile in the dim light. His jaw was clenched, his expression hard. "No," you agreed, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "It doesn't."

But as you stood there, still pressed against him, you couldn't help but wonder—was that really true?

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the heat of his body against yours. His breath was warm on your neck, and the tension between you was almost unbearable. But something in you resisted—this wasn't the time, and he wasn't the one who got to decide when things escalated.

Not like this. Not with him.

You took a deep breath, then stepped back, breaking the contact between you. The sudden distance felt cold, like you'd ripped off a blanket in the middle of winter. Luigi blinked, his expressive face flickering with surprise before it settled back into that infuriating smirk.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity.

"I'm not doing anything," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're the one who got us stuck in here. So, figure out how to get the door open."

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk widening. "Oh, so now it's my fault? I seem to recall you were the one who followed me into the lab in the first place."

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "I didn't follow you. I had work to do. You just happened to be here."

"Sure," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And I just happened to get locked in here with you. Totally a coincidence."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to examine the door more closely. "Just fix it, Luigi. I don't have time for your games."

He stepped closer, his presence looming behind you. You could feel the warmth of his body again, and it took everything in you not to lean back into it. "What if I don't want to?" he murmured, his voice so soft it sent a shiver down your spine. "What if I think this is... convenient?"

You whirled around, glaring at him. "Convenient? Are you serious right now? We're locked in a lab, Luigi. This isn't some romantic comedy. This is a safety hazard."

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth, like it was meant only for you. "Romantic comedy, huh? So, you do think about us like that."

"I think you're delusional," you snapped, though your voice wavered slightly. "Now, either you figure out how to open this door, or I'll start yelling for help."

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel your resolve starting to crumble. Why does he have to be like this? You clenched your fists, trying to steady yourself. "Luigi, I swear, if you don't back off—"

"If I don't back off, what?" he interrupted, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What are you going to do about it?"

You spun around, ready to snap at him again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was something there—something raw and unfiltered. It wasn't just arrogance or amusement. It was... truth. And it terrified you.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "Because I can't help myself," he admitted, his voice rough. "Because every time I'm near you, I can't think straight. And I hate it."

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. "You hate it?"

"Yes," he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "But I also can't stop."

His thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along your jawline, and you felt your resistance melting away. This is a bad idea, your brain whispered, but your body didn't seem to care.

"Luigi..." you started, but he cut you off, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that took your breath away.

For a moment, you froze, unsure of what to do. But then your body took over, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal intensity. It was messy, it was desperate, and it was everything you'd been trying to avoid.

He pressed you against the door, his body pinning you in place as his hands roamed over your waist, your hips, your thighs. You gasped into his mouth, your mind spinning as the world around you faded away.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his voice heavy with need. "You know that, right?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't. All you could do was hold on as he deepened the kiss, his fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting.

"I... I've never done that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Luigi..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "We shouldn't do this," he said, though his eyes said something entirely different.

"Then why did you start it?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

He hesitated, then stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Because I'm an idiot," he admitted, his tone laced with frustration. "And because I can't stay away from you, no matter how hard I try."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. What do I do now?

Before you could answer, he turned away, pacing the small room like a caged animal. "This is a terrible idea," he muttered, mostly to himself. "You're my competition. My rival. This is only going to complicate things."

"You're the one who kissed me," you pointed out, your voice steadier now.

He stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and resignation. "Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again if you let me."

Luigi's words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. "I'd do it again if you let me." His eyes burned into yours, daring you to make the next move. The lab felt impossibly small now, the air thick with tension and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Your heart raced, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming that this was a terrible idea and the part that wanted to see just how far he'd go.

You stepped closer, your breath hitching as his gaze followed you. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched you, his expressive face betraying a mix of anticipation and doubt. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the hem of his hoodie, and felt him tense under your touch.

"You're not going to stop me, are you?" you murmured, your voice low but steady.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Do I look like I want to stop you?"

That was all the confirmation you needed. Your hands moved to the waistband of his short, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. He didn't help you, but he didn't stop you either, his hands hovering at his sides, he wasn't sure what to do with them —much like you. It was the first time you had ever been this close to a man. When you finally got the zipper down, you glanced up at him, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Don't overthink it," he said, his voice rough but soft.

You didn't. You pushed his jeans down just enough to free him, your fingers wrapping around his length. He let out a sharp exhale, his head tipping back slightly as you began to stroke him, — tasting his previous cum — slow and deliberate. His hands finally found their place, one tangling in your hair while the other gripped the edge of the lab table behind him.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice strained. "You're not playing fair."

You smirked, your lips brushing against the tip of him before you took him into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips twitching forward instinctively, but he stopped himself, letting you set the pace. You could taste the salt of him, feel the way he hardened further as you worked him with your tongue and lips. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and when you glanced up at him, you saw his eyes dark with desire, his jaw clenched as he fought to stay in control.

"You're—" he started, but his words cut off into a groan when you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His hand in your hair tightened again, not painfully, but enough to make your scalp tingle. "Oh, you're good at this."

You pulled back slightly, swirling your tongue around the tip before looking up at him. "You sound surprised."

He let out a breathless laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I shouldn't be. You're good at everything."

The compliment sent a thrill through you, and you returned your attention to him, sucking harder this time. His hips jerked forward, and he cursed under his breath, his fingers flexing in your hair. "Careful," he warned, though there was no real threat in his tone. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to last."

You hummed in response, the vibration making him groan again. His free hand found its way to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as if he needed something to ground him. You could feel him trembling under your touch, his control unraveling with every stroke of your tongue, every flick of your lips. He was close—you could tell by the way his breathing hitched, the way his thighs tensed under your hands.

"Wait," he said suddenly, his voice strained. "Wait, I—"

You didn't stop. Instead, you took him deeper, your throat relaxing as you swallowed him down. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully, but you didn't mind. You wanted him to lose control, to let go completely. And he did. With a low, guttural groan, he came, his body stiffening as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed, your lips still wrapped around him as he rode out the aftershocks, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

When you finally pulled away, he slumped back against the lab table, his chest heaving. His hand fell from your hair, and he ran it over his face, letting out a shaky laugh. "Fuck," he said again, his voice hoarse. "That was—fuck."

You stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He looked at you, his eyes still dark but softer now, almost tender. "You're insane," he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"So I've been told," you replied, your voice teasing.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Come here," he said, his tone softer now. You stepped closer, and he kissed you—tasting himself—slow and deep, his hands tangling in your hair again. It was different from the first kiss—less frantic, more deliberate, as if he was trying to convey something he couldn't put into words.

You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breathing ragged, and it only made you want him more.

When you finally broke apart again, you were both panting, your foreheads pressed together.

"So... what now?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

You hesitated, your mind racing. What was next? You were still rivals, still the same people we'd been five minutes ago. And yet, something between you had shifted, something that couldn't be undone.

Before you could answer, the sound of footsteps outside the door made you both freeze.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" a voice called from the other side.

Luigi and you quickly pulled apart, your faces flushed, as the door swung open. One of the other counselors stood there, looking confused.

"Oh, there you are! We've been looking for you two," they said, oblivious to what had just happened.

"Uh, yeah. We got... locked in," Luigi said, his voice uneven.

"Right. Well, come on, we need you out here for the next activity," they said, turning and walking away.

Luigi glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "So... next time we're alone—"

"Next time," you interrupted, your voice firm. "We finish what we started."

— Sunset —

The air was thick with the scent of pine and campfire as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The camp was alive with laughter and chatter, but your mind was elsewhere. Luigi. The memory of his lips on yours, his hands trembling against your waist, lingered like a phantom touch. You couldn't shake it. The rivalry had always been intense, but now it felt like something else entirely.

You found yourself wandering in the beach, where you can heard the sound of the waves and feel the breeze against your skin. The faint sound of rustling leaves caught your attention, and you turned to see Luigi standing a few feet away. He looked nervous, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts. "Hey," he said softly, his voice almost lost in the rustling of the waves.

"Hey," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you, a mix of vulnerability and determination, that made it hard to breathe. "What are you doing out here?"

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to talk to you. About... earlier."

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to steady yourself. "What about it?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. "I've never done that before. Kissed someone, I mean."

Your breath hitched. You knew he was a virgin, but hearing him say it out loud sent a jolt of electricity through you. "Neither have I," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Really."

There was a moment of silence, the tension between you palpable. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours. His touch was warm, his fingers trembling slightly as they interlaced with yours. "I don't want to stop," he said, his voice low and rough. "I want to know what it's like. With you."

Your heart was racing now, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You wanted it too, wanted to feel him, all of him, but the rivalry that had always defined your relationship was still there, lurking beneath the surface. "What about this?" You asked, gesturing between him and you. "This... thing between us. Is it just about competition?"

He shook his head, his grip on your hands tightening. "No. It's not. It's never been just about that. Not really."

You searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you saw was honesty, raw and unfiltered. "Then what is it?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "It's... I don't know. Something more. Something I can't explain."

You didn't need an explanation. You could feel it, the pull between you and him, the way your bodies seemed to gravitate toward each other without conscious thought. You stepped closer, your chests almost touching, and tilted you head up to look at him. "Show me," you whispered.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then his hands were on your face, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that took your breath away. The kiss was different from the one in the supply room, deeper, more intense. It was like he was pouring everything he had into it, every ounce of his longing, his desire, his need.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding up his chest to grip the sides of his face. Your tongues clashed, the taste of him intoxicating. He groaned, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your own voice shaky. "Yes."

He hesitated for only a moment before scooping you up into his arms and carrying you deeper into the tent. You could feel the soft sand of the ground beneath you, and he gently set you down, his body hovering over yours.

"I've never done this before," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'm doing."

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "Neither do I. But we'll figure it out together."

He nodded, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. Then slowly, almost reverently, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist. Every touch sent a spark of electricity through you, your breath hitching as he moved lower.

His fingers fumbled with the button on your shorts, and you helped him, guiding his hands until the fabric slid down your legs. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

His hands were tentative at first, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath catch. And then he was kissing you again—starting at your collarbone, trailing down to your stomach, lower and lower until you felt his breath between your legs.

You tensed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you, his eyes blazing. “Trust me,” he said, his voice steady.

And you did. You trusted him enough to let go, to surrender to the waves of pleasure that crashed over you as he began to explore you with his mouth. His touch was hesitant at first, unsure, but quickly grew more confident as he learned what made you gasp, what made you arch your back.

“Where did you learn this?” You managed to say, your voice breathless. “In a book, uh?”

He paused, looking up at you with a smirk. “Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “Or maybe I just know what you like.”

You laughed—a soft, breathless sound that was quickly swallowed by the sensations coursing through you. His tongue was relentless, his hands gripping your hips as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You reached for him, your hands trembling as you undid his belt and slid his pants down. He was hesitant at first, his movements unsure, but as your bodies pressed together, skin against skin, a sense of urgency overtook the two of you.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes. Please, Luigi."

With a shaky breath, he entered you, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. There was a moment of discomfort, a sharp sting that made you gasp, but he paused, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Yes. Please keep going."

He did as you asked, moving slowly at first, the friction between you building with each thrust. The awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a pleasure that was unlike anything you has ever felt. His movements became more confident, his body pressing against yours with a rhythm that had you gasping for air.

"Luigi," you moaned, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. His hands gripped your hips, his touch firm but gentle as he moved inside of you. The tension, the rivalry that had always driven you, seemed to melt away, leaving only raw, unfiltered passion.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was tender. Your tongues tangled, the taste of him mingling with the sensation of his body moving against yours. The world outside ceased to exist, the night fading into a blur of sensations and emotions.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, a coil of heat that threatened to unravel at any moment. His movements became more erratic, his breathing ragged as he whispered your name against your lips. "I'm close," he gasped, his voice filled with need.

"Me too," you replied, your hands clutching at his back. The tension inside you snapped, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you cried out his name. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release, his voice a low, guttural moan against your neck.

For a moment, you lay there, your bodies tangled together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Then slowly, he pulled away, his eyes meeting yours.

"So... that just happened," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The reality of what you had just done began to sink in, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. “I’ve never tough it will be with you." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

— End of summer back to university —

Back at university, it was as if nothing had changed. You still argued in class, still traded barbs at parties, still acted like you couldn't stand each other. But behind closed doors, in the privacy of Luigi's dorm room, it was a different story.

His room was small and cluttered, with textbooks piled on the desk and posters of his favorite bands peeling off the walls. But to you, it was your sanctuary. The place where you could let go of the act and just be with him. You'd sneak in late at night, careful not to be seen, and he'd be waiting for you, his lips claiming yours the moment the door clicked shut.

Tonight was no different. You were lying on his bed, his arms wrapped around you as you traced circle patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your fingertips, and the room was filled with the soft sound of his breathing.

"We can't keep doing this," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

You froze, your hand stilling on his chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to hide this anymore. I don't want to pretend like I don't love you when we're around other people."

Love. The word sent a shiver down your spine. You'd both danced around it, never saying it out loud, but hearing it now made your stomach twist with both fear and longing.

"I don't care what they think," he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. "I love you. I want the whole world to know it."

You shook your head, sitting up to face him. A smile tugged at your lips as your heart pounded in your chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

"You mean that?" you asked softly, searching his face for any hesitation.

He didn't waver. "Of course I do."

Relief and warmth flooded through you, and without another thought, you cupped his face in your hands, leaning in until your foreheads touched.

"Then let's tell them," you whispered. "I love you too."

A large smile appeared in his face.

"No, I love you." He bids.

"Don't start a competition again..."

"Because you'll lose." He adds his smile still on his face.

Thanks you for reading all this ! If you have a request just ask I will do my best ! Which you all the best ! Love.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Sooo there’s this trend I’ve seen going around where it’s basically someone copying someone’s snaps, and then they basically just flex their muscles, and the person copying the other person is just RIPPED. I was wondering how that would go with the monkey kings, where they’re joking around with the reader and just asks them to flex, and it just turns out the reader is SUPER muscular

MAMA IS BUFF💪

(Lmk Wukong) I can see him flexing his muscles as a joke, especially when he's busy shouting and bragging to Mk. Though he would joke to you and also show off his good looks which you called him handsome on multiple occasions. You told him and Mk that you your own muscles as well, and of course Wukong asked you to show him, thinking your joining in on the fun. Until when you did you flexed your muscles so hard your sleeved ripped, cue Mk's blown mind and Wukong's jaw touching the floor. He also might be blushing and drooling very hard as he pushes Mk out the house so he can jump your bones🤤

(HIB Wukong) Man he would think the concept of flexing is stupid, and thinks it's purely for showing off.(Which is rich coming from him🙄) However Luier was on his motor mouth moments and asked Wukong if he still has his muscles, and of course he was against it. Though that's when you tell Luier that both you and Wukong have muscles, it's just not seen too often. Wukong, though, you were exaggerating and just telling Luier anything to keep him for bothering him, so he asked about it. That's when you sighed and showed your BULK Biceps ripping the sleeves slightly. Luier began fanboying and shooting questions at light speed. Meanwhile, blood shot out of Wukong's like a water fountain, mumbling as he had a physical breakdown.

(NR Wukong) I'm sorry but this man is a hyperactive bean pole, you would think that all the CENTURIES of battle he would have some kind of bulk but no. However he did share some stories with you and Li about when he was at his prime. You would laugh at his exaggerated muscle mass, and that's when Wukong challenged you to a flexing compilation. Though that quickly backfired Spantacularly when you flexed so hard you shredded a perfectly good jacket, your muscular body would ruin him beyond repair. you would have this man screaming from the roof YES MISTRESS! DESTROY MY SKINNY ASS! BREAK ME IN HALF LIKE A KIT KAT BAR!🥵 I don't know how somebody can get even more shameless.

(MKR Wukong) Oh this should be hilarious, I mean Wukong clearly doesn't need muscles to cave somebody's face in. Wukong would roll his eyes at the idea of flexing, and also thinks it's stupid. That's when you told him about your own muscles as you walked together on patrol, Wukong immediately thought you were messing with him. Their is no way you looking all pretty and Dainty could ever have muscles like that, However It didn't stop him from asking to see out of curiosity. I KID YOU NOT, but the second you flexed those perfect biceps, back and shoulder muscles boy did Wukong acend to a whole new plane of peace and love with his demon boner. You should probably take him to the doctor 😬

(Netflix Wukong) Oh god you don't want to absolutely destroy this little boy's self-confidence, which is why you kelp your muscles to yourself. Though let's face it he has spaghetti Ramen arms to the point where even his staff would have more muscle then him, but that's besides the point. Wukong would loudly and desperately show off his own muscles despite them looking like twigs, is when he challenged you to flex. Wukong asked if you have any muscles not expecting you to say yes, he also wasn't expecting you to have an entire body made of muscles what's really killing him is those big Juicy thighs muscles. You mean if my mommy gets mad at me enough she'll crush my head like a watermelon??? Wukong fell into true madness that day, mentally and Sexually.

(BMW Wukong) OHHHHHHHHH GOD NOOO UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, CAN HE KNOW ABOUT YOUR MUSCLES because once he does it's over. Wukong would brag for hours and hours about his physical physique as he shows off to impress his dear wifey who is you. However, you didn't tell him about your own muscles mainly because you once felt insecure about them. You got a bit tired of him running your mouth, so you decided to show him your muscles, and boy, was that a game changer. You would have this man re-evaluating his life like you gave him a good crisis. You mean to tell him that this entire time you could have at any time absolutely break his back like an F*CKING GLOWSTICK...........but chose not to...his boner is soooooooo hard and Pulsing that he can't afford to wear pants right now.

(Destined one) Oh lord you would shock the poor baby into another layer of silence if you ever flash your muscles like that. The Destined one has no interest in flexing or in muscles, despite him being battle driven however I think it would peak his curiosity if he learned that you have muscles. The second he learned that you had one of those body builder muscles that can rip clothes off like tissue paper, he couldn't handle it. Im not kidding the Destined one Collapsed on the floor like he was having the most severe seizure of his immortal life. Next time he wants to see those muscles in actions in your shared bed at home😳

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💪

[demontonic]

can you do a gn TASM smut with a more subby peter 🙏🏽🙏🏽 i’m living for men whimpering rn

I LUUUUUV MEN WHIMPERING BABE I GOT YOU🫶🏼

Peter Parker (TASM) x GN reader - Pretty Boy

You’d been teasing Peter all day, you always did. You had more than enough knowledge on his every like and dislike when it came to intimacy, but nothing could’ve prepared you for today. Peter had you sat on his lap as he showed you the pictures he’d taken last night on patrol. His leg was bouncing like it always did, usually he tried to refrain whike you were on his lap but he was too distracted with talking to you.

Eventually he went quiet, his responses coming short and quick and his leg had come to a stop. You leaned against his chest and looked up at his face, his jaw was tense and his eyes were trained on the small camera screen. It wasn’t until you moved slightly that you felt the growing bulge in his thick sweatpants. The sound if him holding his breath only confirmed what your thigh was brushing against.

“Baby I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t worry pretty boy, just keep telling me about your night.”

By now you were in his room, laying in between his legs as he cums in your mouth for a second time. His teeth were biting down on the sleeves of his hoodie as your hand still pumped his sensitive shaft. The sounds coming from his throat were the closest thing to the sounds of heaven. His whimpers sounded so strained and desperate all it did was turn you on even more. His free hand stayed glued in your hair, gripping tight like you were the only thing keeping him on Earth.

“O-Oh ba- ugh fuck baby please I-I can’t.”

“Shh one more please Peter you’re doing so good for me I know you can give me one more baby.”

A quiet moan fell from his lips as his big brown eyes stared at you pleadingly. Yours were heavy lidded, high off of the sounds and reactions coming from the taller man beneath you. Tongue teasing the underside of his cock as his breath began to pick up again. A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he hesitantly nodded his head, your lips quickly finding their way back to his aching tip. The prominent veins pulsing in your mouth made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hips jerked lightly before you pushed down on his hips so you could take his entire length.

“Oh- fuck baby wai- ohmygod.”

He mumbled incoherently as you continued to suck him off tauntingly slow, dragging out his torture. When you finally pulled off and began jerking him with your hand again his thighs flexed with every move.

“I-I can’t take it anymore please just let me cum.”

You pondered the proposal as his hands grasped at your body like a needy child.

“Fine, I can’t say no to my pretty boy.”

Your mouth made quick work of his tip, your hand jerking most of his length as your free hand rested on his sluty waist. His legs began to shake, his hips lifting deeper into your throat as he came hard. Your name falling from his lips like his saving grace, your ego being boosted miles above as he crumbled under you. His chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regulate his breathing, his hands still holding onto you. A smile tested on your lips while he stared at you in a daze, like he’d never see anything more intricate than staring at you.

“I love you.”

“You better, because my jaw hurts.”

its really short but i wanna start doing small drabbles rather than doing 2k+ word stories! anyway if you want more from me check my email masterlist, I update it every time I post a new fic!

[wileys-russo]

Kyra cooney-cross "I don't know how you managed to make me your girlfriend" (in a funny way) london colney

kyra cooney-cross

if there was one key attribute that no one could ever deny you had, it was patience.

hell you had to in order to date kyra, the girl was like an energiser bunny on a slow day and didn't need any sort of substance to be bouncing off walls.

you'd grown up together and gone through the youth teams side by side, so overtime you'd learned exactly what it took to try and navigate being her girlfriend rather than her babysitter, though that wasn't to say there wasn't days where that line felt blurred.

today was one of those days.

with the weather outside set to storm all day the training program had been altered to mean no one needed to train outside, the flu making its way through london and a big game coming up on the weekend the the coaching staff weren't ready to take any risks.

most of you didn't mind the change, taking the opportunity for further strength training in stride.

one person who did not like the change however was kyra, whose pent up energy coupled with the shitty weather meant she was like a ticking time bomb, unpredictable and ready to go off at any second.

"ky, baby please stop that." you sighed, your girlfriend stood in front of you as you sat up on the weights bench, repeatedly punching the air in front of you, her fists mere millimeters from your nose.

"can't, i'm like rocky!" kyra puffed, making all sorts of strange noises as she continued, another sigh leaving your lips as you dropped down to your back and continued with your exercises, kyra reverting to now kicking the air.

"kyra! do your program!" kim yelled out from across the gym, the words falling on deaf ears as the captain gave up for the day, having been pushed to her very wits end by the young energetic aussie who seemed allergic to sitting still.

"ky, honey please do your weights." you sighed as you finished your reps, your girlfriend returning to her punches, again only millimetres of space between her hands and your nose.

"fine! spot me." kyra groaned as the two of you swapped, her laying down on the bench, your own program long finished as kyra wasn't even halfway through hers.

"babe, focus please." you reminded as the brunette chattered away mid chest press, the bar slipping slightly as you hurried to grab it but she assured it was fine and continued on her way.

"whats next?" you held your hand out for her program as she tossed it to you, causing you to sigh and unravel the crumpled up ball, running your finger down the list. "bicep curls." you nodded for her to grab the hand weights.

"don't need those. i'm massive!" kyra stood up on the bench and began to pose, grunting and heaving as she flexed and moved like a body builder, rolling her sleeves up as you watched on unphased.

"wonderful, bicep curls please." you held up the hand weights as the brunette dropped back down with a huff. "you're no fun sometimes you know babe, like a wet blanket." your girlfriend accepted the weights as you chuckled.

"well you have enough fun for both of us, someones gotta keep you on the right track." you gestured for her to start, the girls around you watching on in wonder at the utter patience and the fact that kyra seemed to listen, able to work through the rest of her program with minimal interruptions.

"ky maybe thats not the best idea." you warned as she moved into the other section of the gym, grabbing the ropes and starting to pull herself up. "its fine! look im like a monkey." the brunette started to make noises as she swung herself back and forth and you took a seat.

"you've got twenty on the bike and ten on the rower and you're done. can we please get it done? then you've got free time and lunch." you tried to encourage, most of the other girls long finished as your words fell on deaf ears.

"you have the patience of a saint." steph sighed pulling herself up to sit beside you as kyra continued to swing. "just the practice of one is all." you chuckled, again try to coax kyra into finishing her program but to no avail.

"kyra i really don't think thats a good idea." steph warned as the girl dropped and started to try and wrap her ankles up to hang upside down from the hoops.

"sometimes you just need to let her do something dumb, its the best way she burns off energy and learns a valuable lesson." you shrugged as steph looked to you to continue her warnings.

and sure enough, your words rang true as kyra swung about upside down.

"im the king of the castle and you're all dirty rascals! oof." with a loud thud and a grunt she fell from the ropes to the floor with a groan, wincing as the ropes all fell down on top of her to complete the accident, the girls who were left in the gym all roaring with laughter.

with a sigh you hopped down and offered her a hand up, her face flushed bright red with embarrassment as you shook your head.

"ky baby some days i really don't know how you managed to make me your girfriend."

[rakurairagnarok]

JUICED UP

Commission for @creativly-bankrupt

Jordan, Matt and Isaac looked their eyes out on the beach. The college sophomores were almost drooling by the massive amounts of babes that walked around in their skimpy bikinis. Their plump lips, hourglass figures, and sun kissed skin were enough to send all three boys' hormones into overdrive.

"Alright, first who scores a chick gets to command the others for two weeks!" Jordan says with a sly smirk.

"As if any woman would even let you talk to them." Matt retorts.

Isaac meekly looks around, as his friends go opposite ways. He wasn't really an outgoing person, but he got invited by his friends to leave his musky dorm room to go to the beach, relax and look at the gorgeous women that were always hanging around the sun heated sands.

He sighs as he slowly makes his way to the small bar at the other side. He wasn't going to pick up anyone, so getting sunburned wasn't really worth it. He ordered a coke light and while waiting he looked out over the white beach.

He wasn't ugly perse, but he had no game, no money and definitely no muscles to seduce any of the 10/10 ladies that were trotting around.

He turned back to the bar man only to notice a different man standing in front of him, his face inches away from his own.

Isaac let out a small yelp and almost fell of his stool, but the man quickly grabbed Isaac's arm and pulled him back up.

"T-thanks" Isaac mumbled.

"Like, no probz, bro!" The man smiled as he let go of Isaac's arm. "You, like, look totally out of it brah, what’s wrong man?"

Isaac looked the man up and down. He was huge. He was wearing a large Hawaiian shirt, with not a single button closed, revealing his massive pecs, washboard abs and a generous treasure trail to his groin. His arms looked trapped in the sleeves, almost as if one sudden move could tear them to shreds.

"Y-yeah, I guess you could say that..." Isaac sighed as he saw the slight confusion on the mans face. "My friends invited me here, but now they are running around trying to pick up chicks, when I'm not even confident enough to ask for extra sauce at a restaurant..."

The man let out a bellowing laugh. "You, like, totally remind me of me, when I was your size brah."

Isaac rolled his eyes.

"But I got like, totally, the thing for ya bro."

He dove under the counter loudly rummaging through countless boxes and drawers. "Ah, totally got it”.

He came back up with a pink can with bright blue letters on it. "Jockcy" There were some other words on it, but it was hard to make out.

"Ra-rai- Inc.?" Isaac gave up. "So, what is this?"

"Its like, this totally awesome drink that like, totally gets you super pumped and shit bro!"

Isaac laughed. So, either alcohol or some weird soda pre-workout? No thank you.

"I think I'm good, I don't really..."

"Nah nah brah, I like, totally insist. It got me super jacked look!" He flexes his left arm, and as predicted, his sleeve tore open, revealing his massive bicep.

"Oh fuck... I totally destroyed that" He chuckled and flexed his other arm as well. "Now I’m totally even again" he said with a massive grin as his other sleeve fell to the ground.

Isaac rolled his eyes again. Not seeing another way out, he cracked open the can and took sip. It was... not that bad... pretty good actually. He smiled as he took another sip. And then another. And then a big gulp, and another. And then... it was empty. Isaac let out a large belch. "Oh shit"

"Oh shit..." the big man looked shocked at Isaac.

"You like... drank it all?"

"Yeah, it was ...BUUUUUUUURP... really good... oh Fuck" Isaac put a hand on his stomach as he felt it churn and rumble. "GODDAMNIT FUCK, I LIKE, SHOULDN'T HAVE LISTENED TO YOU" He shouted as he ran to the toilet.

The big man just stared at the pink can on the counter as Isaac ran off.

"Ooo... I like, totally forgot he was only supposed to take few sips."

A sly grin appeared on his face.

"Well, I think that’s an experiment in the works then. Got to see these test results”.

He snickered as he turned around to help other customers. On the back of his shirt were the words, RAKURAI INC. in large bold letters.

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

Isaac burst into the small bathroom and locked the door behind him. The room was spinning, and he was drenched.

"What the fuck... what the fuck was in that..."

His stomach rumbled as another large belch escaped his lips. He rubbed his stomach, which by now was protruding quite a bit.

"I'm like... so totally bloated."

Isaac froze. His vocabulary was a lot more expansive than for him to use those unnecessary, and dumb words.

"Like... what the fuck... I'm like totally not..."

He grabbed his head, the room started spinning more and more.

"Like what the fUcK"

His eyes widened. His voice. It cracked? No not quite. It.

"It’s getting deeper?"

Isaac's jaw dropped. Then... a smile appeared, and he began to laugh. A deep, bellowing laugh like the one the bar man had.

"I like... sounds so totally sexy now brah."

There it was again, stupid vocabulary.

Isaac couldn't help but laugh.

As he laughed, he didn't notice that with each breath, he seemed to grow. At first, it was hardly noticeable but after a few more he shot up. His former measly 5'6 now replaced with a very respectable 6'3. Isaac looked down, and almost tripped. The floor was so far away.

"Did I like... grow?" Isaac laughed again, a bit softer now, a tinge of anxiety slipping into his voice. He heard a rip behind him and turned around. Another rip, and another. He took a deep breath and... RIIIIIIIIIIIP. His loose oversized t-shirt slowly dropped to the floor, in tatters. Isaac looked down and saw his torso had broadened to unbelievable proportions. His shoulders were almost three times as wide! While slowly exploring his widened physique, he took another deep breath, which caused his flat chest to expand into two giant muscle balloons. Isaac ran a hand across them and squeezed sending a massive wave of pleasure through his whole body, which made him throw his head back in glee. At the same time his glutes bubbled and grew, giving him a massive bubble butt, and an almost permanent arch in his back.

"Uhm... this feels like... totally amazeee" Isaac's voice dropped another octave and at the same time his IQ seemed to plummet. He dropped onto the toilet, which groaned under the weight of his massive tits and ass. Isaac giggled. Tits and ass that’s what he came here for, but now he got them. His hands, which by now had turned into big meaty paws, ran down his massive torso. His stomach was still sticking out, but there were some slight imprints of abs visible, stretched out over the gut.

Looking down and taking another deep breath, Isaac quads take on an enormous size. Doubling, tripling in size, they tear open the board shorts Isaac was wearing leaving him with only his speedo. Speedo?

"No, I was like... Wearing boxers" Isaac groaned as he watched his bulge pulsate. Intrigued, he groped his package, and felt it grow. He kept groping, and it kept growing. A loud churning could be heard form underneath him and he watched in awe as his bulge kept growing and growing, and his balls started to feel heavier, slowly dropping, nearly falling out of the tight confines of his speedo.

A weird scent caught the attention of the horny giant. He looked around as he saw something move in the corner of his eye. He moved his head and saw that his bicep was growing. He lifted his arm and a massive wave of the scent blasted in his face. Immediately Isaac buried his face in his pit, which was steadily growing hairier. A loud moan escaped Isaacs lips as the musk invaded his brain. More IQ dropped from his skull into his balls, sending another wave of pleasure through Isaacs whole body. At the same time thousands of pinpricks spread across his body. He looked at his massive arms and saw intricate patterns appear. Some tribal tattoos wrapped around his giant biceps. Isaac looked at his arms with glee as he flexed every muscle in his body.

A slight burning sensation spread on his head, as his dark auburn hair began bleaching itself. Along with the colour of his hair more IQ dropped into his already growing dick and balls. A thick scruff spread along his slowly squaring jaw, and his mouth was stuck in an almost permanent state of awe.

Isaac walked out of the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He still had his memories, he still knew who he was, why he had come here and what he had looked like before. He just did not give a single fuck anymore. He looked, smelled and felt amazing, and it was time to share that with his friends. He walked to the beach quickly locating both his friends who were desperately trying to get the attention of some girls in the water.

Isaac made his way to the water and walked through it, his massive build slowing him down somewhat but his muscles giving him the strength to push forward.

"Hey guys, like... you guys totally haven't gotten any chicks yet have ya bros" he said with a big grin.

Matt and Jordan turned around to see a massive guy walking towards them.

"Yeah, so what dude" Matt sneered, annoyed at how easily their intentions were spotted.

"What you gonna show us how it's done or something?" Jordan snickered. No way a meathead like him was going to pick up any self-respecting woman here.

"Like... sorta brah" Isaac grinned as he grabbed both boys by their necks. He pushed Jordan in his pit while he pulled Matt towards his face, quickly pushing his tongue into the boy’s mouth. They both briefly struggled, but the musk of the pit, and the pleasure of the kiss quickly drained both their bodies of any resistance. A quick swap of the boys and their bodies began to change. Jordans lanky body shrunk down a bit, while packing on some lean muscle. Matt on the other hand grew a few inches, but contrarily beefed up quite a bit. The trio now looked like an example graph of muscle, lean, bulk and beefy.

After finally letting go, the boys looked up at Isaac, who was still towering above them both.

"Like... what the hell happened to us"

"Yeah, we like... totally look super hot now... but"

"Yeah, I'm like... so not attracted to girls anymore."

Isaac laughed. "Yeah bros ... were gonna have like... so much fun at home."

He wrapped his beefy arms around his new boyfriends and took them home.

In the bar the huge bartender was on the phone.

"Yeah, it seems a whole can give infective properties to the consumer... what was that? That's good news? Right... I'll let the lab know."

The man laughed. "I should totally have given him my number."

He frowned for a second, before slamming an "on break" sign down on the counter and running after the trio.

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

Hope you guys enjoyed it and especially you @creatively-bankrupt.

Seems Rakurai INC. is spreading to other kinds of products!!! What else could they have in store???

[archangeldyke-all]

EEEEEEE how bout reader finding Sevika hot whenever she fixes stuff or builds things around the house and quite literally not leaving her alone. Like yes Sevika you hammer the nail 😍. Reader would be STALKING Sevika around the house whenever she’s working.

ppppfft this is so real.

men and minors dni

there's just something about it...

the first time sevika does some kind of housework for you is in the very beginning of your relationship, in the middle of your second date.

you'd had plans to go on a picnic, but the weather and rain had other plans, so you ended up cooking for sevika in your apartment and watching a movie together.

sevika asks if she can snoop while you cook. you grin and give her permission, banning her from the top drawer in your room (hoping that it will make her look, hoping to see the sweet flustered look on her face after getting an eyeful of all your underwear and sex toys)

she doesn't, though-- she finds something else more interesting before she can get to your drawers.

"what's this box?" sevika calls from your room. you sigh.

"my new desk. i've been too lazy to build it, so it's just waiting there." you say.

"huh..." you hear.

it's the last thing you hear from her for thirty minutes.

at first you think she's gone back to snooping. then, you think maybe she went to the bathroom. then, you think she fell asleep in your bed.

when you finally put the food in the oven, you decide to go see what sevika's gotten herself up to.

you almost die when you find her on her hands and knees in your bedroom, building your nearly-complete desk.

she'd taken her sweater off, rolled her button up sleeves up her forearms. her tongue is sticking out of her mouth, her eyes focused on the instructions, and her muscles are flexing as she screws two pieces together.

you must make a noise. you must whimper or gasp or something, because sevika's head flies up a second later to look at you.

"what? did you want it in the living room instead?" she asks. you just blink, gulp, then try to speak.

"uh... this is fine. y-you didn't have to--"

"fuck off, you're cooking, it's the least i can do." sevika says.

(the food ends up getting burnt that night, because you park your ass on your bed and watch sevika finish your desk-- not hearing the oven beep because you were too focused on her arms.)

she figures out your appreciation for her handiness about the same time that you guys start living together-- both of you moving to a new apartment.

you aren't sure what tipped her off-- the time you tripped and broke all the ceramic dishes you were carrying into the apartment when you got distracted gawking at sevika as she fiddled with the garbage disposal in just a wife beater; the time you spent an uninterrupted hour watching her install a towel hangers in the bathroom; ...maybe it was the time you made her fuck you after changing the oil on your car-- her hands leaving streaks of dirt and grime on your body as her tongue worked against your cunt...

either way, she figured it out pretty quick.

and now, she tells you each time she's going to be doing any kind of handy work.

last weekend she built a bookshelf. you were supposed to help, to read the instructions for her, but you were way too distracted ogling her to read.

the second she was done, before she could even place anything on the shelves, you dragged her to the bedroom and got your hands on her.

she teases you about it relentlessly.

"this is doing it for you? really?" she asks from the top of the ladder where she's changing a lightbulb. you giggle and shrug.

"it's a pretty good view of your ass from down here. and it's hot that you're so handy." you say, your hands stabilizing the ladder for her.

"it's a lightbulb, babe."

"just take the win, sevika." you say.

she cackles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

[maikee-akihiro]

3 times Crowley stops the urge to kiss Azi(1+ when he doesn't)

Fandom: Good Omens

Chapter: 1/4 Next Chapter

Summary:

[Based on my Good Omens Reincarnation AU! This will be a little compilation of ficlets showcasing the different timelines where Crowley and Azi meet. The actual fanfic won't be posted yet as of now.]

Aziraphale asks Crowley for a favor, in return makes him go all PTSD for about a second.

Chapter One ✧ Cleaning with love ✧ Year 2023(Present Time)

“Why in such a hurry, angel?” the man with sunglasses asked, eyeing down the gentleman buttoning up his sleeves in a hurry.

“Oh Crowley love, don’t be down. I promise we’ll have breakfast tomorrow.” With those pleading eyes that his angel uses against him, how could he ever refuse his words? But with a sulk, he just nods. 

“By the way Crowley, can you help me at the bookshop later?” Aziraphale asked, fixing his bow tie by the mirror. Crowley just watches him do his daily routine, so serene and quiet. 

He hopes to himself that this would last

Rejuvenated by knowing they’ll hang out later, he quickly replies. “Sure, I don’t have anything scheduled today.” 

With a smile— Oh how Crowley loves his warm yet mischievous grin, he picks up his messenger bag and gives Crowley a peck as he left. 

He agreed to his simple request, it wasn’t a biggie. He can always reschedule his board meeting tomorrow. His angel always comes first. Definitely not because he was clingy. Definitely not.

He touches his cheek, still feeling the fleeting caress of his soft lips. It was a scoop of something he always craved, and now within the boundless time right now– he can enjoy it. 

“Cancel our meeting later, I had a sudden appointment.” Crowley says to the phone as he picks out a nice leather jacket.

He wonders what would be urgent that his angel needed his helping hands?

He shuts the closet doors, sprawling the jacket over the bed. “But sir, this is an annual board—”

“Cancel.” He says with finality, not leaving any room to argue. The employee on the other end sighs in resignation. 

The call ends with him victorious.

He should probably give him a raise. He notes that in his notes app.

-

Now he’s at the bookshop, holding various dusters and an apron.

“Here, take this as well.” With his signature smile, Aziraphale hands him the broom.

Scam— my angel scammed me. He thought as he arranged the clattered books, stacking them up.

And here he thought–

His thoughts were cut off when he hears a disgruntled yelp.

“Ouch!”

He’d recognise that whine anywhere.

Dropping everything in hand, he quickly runs to Aziraphale’s side with worry plastered on his face. Putting his hand to the side of his face, he questions. “What the matter, angel?” 

Aziraphale’s face winced in pain as he rubs his head, saying. “A stray book fell off.” 

Crowley looks at the assailant, and notices a lot of books weren’t placed correctly—with some barely even inserted. He also notices how slightly shaky the shelf is.

How old is this thing?

He returns his gaze to Aziraphale, who was still talking.

“The fricking spine directly hit my head—"  

But before he could even finish his sentence, it was like the books wanted to fight them because every single book on the shelf started to fall.

Without any thought, Crowley instantly shielded his angel from the books as they descended with such drama, some even pried open mid flight. 

Why are these books so heavy!? 

It hits him square on his upper back. With a grunt, he tries to flex his arms. 

One minute they were dusting the shelves and arranging books, next thing he got Aziraphale pinned between his arms, protecting him from falling books of all things.

What an unlucky day, though– at least he was here and those books didn’t topple his angel.

He realized something.

What if he didn’t came? What if he continued the board meeting? Would he find Aziraphale all bloodied up with a cracked open skull?

He didn’t even want to think about that possibility. 

He got reminded yet again of the memories, of times when he let his guard down just for a second.

That could’ve happened now if he wasn’t so absent minded!

Aziraphale, noticing him tremble, asked worriedly. “Crowley– love? Did the books hit you hard?”

He remembers the trembling face of his angel trapped underneath the rubble. He remembers the fire painfully licking his skin, remembers reaching out and clutching pul–

He felt gentle hands cradling his face. Ones so warm and affectionately sweet. Ones that he recognizes.

Snapping back to reality, he makes eye contact with his angel. He also realizes how close their faces are to each other.

“Are you back, my love?” Aziraphale asks.

Slowly, the two faces of the Aziraphale in his memories and his reality merged– reminding him that it was all past.

He stops the urge to kiss him, because right now he has unholy thoughts that he would not like to divulge in this awkward moment. 

“Yes, thanks angel.” He says– albeit blushing– as he mirrors him, caressing his face as he lets his forehead touch his.

“Thank you so much.”

[vampgal202]

Yes, Sir. (Professor James Franco x Female Student.)

summary: Temptations are hot, and so is Mr. F. Will U/n break under pressure even though he's her teacher? Will Mr. F feed into her fantasies, or is he really only feeding into his own?

Warnings: Smut, Teacher x student

His rough, calloused hands trailed up my thighs. My ass was pressed flat against the wall. His fingers played with the hem of my underwear under skirt. My breathing was ridged, it was caught in the back of my throat. He groped my ass hard making my back arch off the wall...

"Y/n?"

"Y/N?!"

My head shot up from my desk, the loud sound of the bell ringing fills my ears. Fuck, I fell asleep. "You slept through the whole class" I turn my head to see Mr. F leaning against his desk. God he's sexy. He was wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arms were popping out of shirt as they were crossed over his chest. "I'm sorry Mr. F..." I didn't really know what to say to him. I had a late night last night and I spent the whole class dreaming about having sex with him. He just looked at me, I couldn't tell what he was thinking about but I knew that in this very moment I wanted him more than ever before. "Late night last night? Were you partying? Drinking? I know how you collage girls are." He says to me, that big smile on his face. By this time everyone in the classroom has cleared out, leaving only me and him. "Maybe..." I say back, keeping eye contact with him. He walks towards me, only couple inches away from my body. I stare up at him between my lashes, wetting my lips, hoping that he will do something. He drags his tongue around his mouth and pokes at the inside of his cheek.

Fuck it. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down towards me, smashing his lips against mine. He freezes for a second until his hands roughly make his way through my hair. The kiss is rough, passionate, and sloppy. He grabs the back of my legs and hoists me up onto the desk behind me. I start to unbutton his shirt and he pulls away. "We cant. This is wrong." he says to me, running his hands though his hair. I can see he is so hard, he's practically busting through his pants. "C'mon it's okay, I won't tell anyone." He looks at me for a second until his lips are back on mine. He lifts my shirt off my body, reveling my bra and naked torso. His hands cup my breasts through my bra, making me pant harder into the kiss. My hands fiddle with the last button on his shirt until it's open. I pier up at his hard abs, pulling him closer between my legs. His bulge presses between my legs making me moan and breaking our kiss. His hand comes down in between us and starts rubbing my clit on top of my pants. Strings of curse words and moans fill the room. "Please just fuck me." I say to him.

He wastes no time pulling my pants off my body. He unbuckles his belt with one hand, in one swift motion. Reveling his hard cock. I lean back on my hands and spread my legs, letting him do all the work. He pulls my underwear to the side and slams himself in me, making my throw my head back. He starts fucking me, hard and rough making me cling onto his shoulders. "Fuck." he says under his breath followed by groans of pleasure. He brings his hand down again and starts playing with my clit with his thumb. This throws me over board causing me to let out a loud moan. "shh baby, we can't let anyone know our little secret." He whispers to me, his warm breath fanning over my ear. With every thrust I see his v line flex which makes me even more turned on by the second. His thrusts start to become slower, and sloppier, as he comes closer to finishing. He starts rubbing my clit faster than ever before and we both come undone at the same time. I watch as he throws his head back, his Adams apple vibrating from his moans. He pulls out of me and grabs paper towel to clean up. "Our little secret?" he says to me with a smile. "Yes Sir."

[fushipurro]

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 6 - Vega

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, heavy angst, depression, suicidal ideation, implied/reference ED, mentions of blood (nosebleed), emotional hurt/comfort, insecure/intrusive thoughts

☆ Word Count: 7.8k

After your little “diner date” as Shoko and the gang started calling it, you found yourself hanging out with Toji more often than not, much to your surprise. You had your worries that the opposite would occur during said “date”, but it appears now to have brought you closer together.

Meals between the three of you ─ Megumi included of course ─ became a common occurrence, along with shared trips to the store. With winter settling in now, Toji stated he felt more comfortable with having you in his car instead of letting you carry bags home in the snow.

“Don’t need you freezin’ to death out here,” he’d say in an effort to convince you.

Other times, he would invite you over so Megumi could share some quality time with you to make up for all the times it’s just you and his dad. And who are you to deny the sweet boy?

Tonight is one of those nights.

The day began (early afternoon for you) with some games before dinner, enjoying said meal in front of the TV while watching a movie together. Megumi loves anything that features talking animals, so you thought it best to put on Kung Fu Panda, to which he fell in love. Hard.

He tired himself out trying to replicate all the moves, leading to Toji having to carry him off to his room to sleep. Turns out in this one-bedroom apartment, the two share the same king-sized bed. Toji had said before to you that because he’s out all night working, Megumi has the bed all to himself and vice versa during the day. He even took Megumi into consideration as far as bedroom décor went, stating his only preference is the happiness of his son, even if that means his sheets have dinosaur print all over them.

“Kid’s finally asleep,” Toji tells you upon his return, sinking back down into his spot on the couch with a thump. He laughs with a simpering expression, “Now we can watch something with a little more excitement for two adults.” His eyes fall on you from the side.

You jokingly gasp. “How can you say that movie wasn’t fun?” You place your hand over your heart to exaggerate the feeling of shock. “I’m telling you now, he’s going to be doing kung fu all week and have you in the Wuxi finger hold.”

“I can fight better,” he snorts, and you giggle. “I bet I could give any dragon warrior a run for their money.” Toji raises the sleeve of his ivory-colored sweater upwards. The veins and muscles bulge as he flexes with that same annoying grin stretched across his face looking for your approval.

“Okay, Tai Lung,” you tease, your voice coy sounding. “Whatever you say.” Your eyes roll away from him and back to the TV.

Toji laughs, snagging the remote before you can even think about it. “Just for that, I’m picking the next one,” he declares.

He pans through the options, debating what might be a good choice. He has a few ideas, but his primary goal like always is to get a reaction out of you. So, when he lands on a classic you know and love, he wastes no time putting it on.

Bride of Chucky.

“Perfect.” The words roll out like a purr. Or maybe a warning growl? Either way, he puts the remote down, leaning back against the couch and draping his arm over the back.

The movie picks up right away with an introduction to the main characters as you remember quite well. Rob Zombie’s “Living Dead Girl” playing while the one and only Tiffany Valentine makes off after the first kill of the movie.

Toji had thought the combination of blood and murderous dolls would have you leaning into him for protection, but to his surprise ─ and disappointment ─ you don’t. The most he gets out of you so far is a recoil during the first murder committed by Chucky himself.

“That’s what gets a reaction out of you?” His question comes out with a pout he doesn’t even hide.

You laugh through your nose, “Hey, the stabbings are one thing, but piercings getting ripped out?” You shudder. “No thank you.”

“Not even a little afraid of some creepy ass doll running around, killing people with a knife…” He goes silent for a minute as the bathtub scene occurs. “Or…a TV?”

“If we’re talking about Slappy from Goosebumps, then yeah,” you huff. “That guy was nightmare fuel for me, but Chucky I can enjoy.” You reach out for some popcorn, ever so quietly humming to “Call Me” by Blondie as it plays.

Toji takes his own handful before speaking, “You’re one odd girl, I’ll give you that.”

It’s funny the things that can affect you. Meeting new people turns you into a stuttering mess, yet you watch horror movies without a care in the world. As if the blood and guts doesn’t do anything to you unlike the words or actions of others do.

To others, you’re that of an iceberg. The image of you that others see is only a mere glimpse with the rest hiding below the surface. All it takes to reveal that side of you is time to warm up, something Toji is finally starting to see as you grow comfortable with him in your presence. No alcohol needed.

Throughout the rest of the movie, even if you weren’t clinging to him in order to shield your eyes, he still had his ways of keeping the distance close. There’s the brushing of fingers reaching for popcorn that seemed like more than accidents or the arm he has resting behind you this entire time for you to lean your head against.

It's like the awkward theater date you never had as a teen, except you’re the only one feeling awkward about it now. But at the same time, it’s endearing because you’re going through this milestone event in your life.

Except… you still aren’t aware if he’s single or not.

All signs point to yes since you’ve never once heard of another woman, or Megumi even talking about a mother. But she could just not live here, or they’re going through something, or she’s working abroad. The fact is, until you mount the courage to ask, or he tells you, you don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’s single. You’re enjoying this too much to think about this crush of yours falling apart.

Toji is sweet as could be and he makes you laugh every time you’re together. He continues to treat you and while you can’t return the favor financially, you’ve been trying with the little things like bringing baked goods over with the excuse that you made too many to cover up your nerves.

It's all you could ever hope to have with a friend or even a significant other, even if all it must be is platonic. It’s something you haven’t had in a long time, and one thing you don’t want to ruin by desiring more.

The movie ends and Toji stands up to stretch, collecting the leftover dishes to clean. You take a few, following him into the kitchen area.

“I would say let’s watch another, but I can’t be late for work tonight,” he groans, and you swear you can hear him pouting even with his back facing you.

“There’s always another night,” you reassure.

“I think we should just start the kid now with the good stuff.” His head turns in your direction flashing a mischeavous grin. “What do you think about watching Alien next time?”

“And scar him for the rest of his life over the spaghetti scene?” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Hey, I saw much worse at an earlier age and look how I turned out.” He raises both his hands and shrugs all nice and proud.

“And it’s a miracle you’re sane.” He rolls his eyes with a laugh. “I vote that we watch Finding Nemo next time. I’m sure he’d love that one especially with how similar one of the characters is to you.”

He looks to you dumbfounded. “In what way could I possibly resemble a fish?” he says with disbelief lacing his words.

You giggle, “Personality for one; Gill is tough, smart, and cares a lot almost like a dad.” You extend your hand, gesturing to the man. “And two, you share similar features, like the color black, how you glare at others, scowl, even having a facial scar.”

You bite your tongue, eyes widening at what you just said. Another piece of info Toji hasn’t told you about yet is how he even got the scar on his lip. You know more than anyone that it may not be the easiest thing to talk about, mainly if there’s trauma tied to it versus something mundane like getting cut by a sticker bush.

It doesn’t help that he’s facing away from you so you’re unable to read his current expression. “I’m sorry, I–“

“You think I’m all that, huh?” He interrupts with a huff, appearing unbothered. “Bet I’m tougher than any fish in the sea,” he tells you again, with another flex of both his arms this time around.

You sigh in relief, “What about an orca?” you ask, and he flashes you a toothy smile.

“Now that’s a better comparison for someone like me over some stinkin’ fish.”

You both laugh and continue to chat for a little while longer. While Toji is cleaning the dishware, you’re occupying yourself with Megumi’s toys, helping to tidy up. When all is said and done, he walks you out, hanging back in the threshold of his home and the hallway.

“I’ll see you later then, hope you have an easy time at work.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Try not to have any nightmares later.” He winks, and you laugh.

“If I do, then I know who to blame,” you scoff. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Sleep tight, and don’t let the cursed dolls bite.” You roll your eyes, calmy walking into your home. Once inside, you’re anything but calm. You practically skip your way over to your couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions to pet Tsumiki.

Sweetheart.

He calls you that from time to time, and the butterflies you feel are something else. It takes a few breaths to relax from such giddy feelings. It’s been far too long since you had someone like Toji in your life, and you crave this kind of attention. This closeness. For the first time in what’s most likely been years, you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

You eventually pick up your phone that you haven’t bothered to look at in the hours spent next-door, and there were several notifications to greet you.

The first dozen were some cheers from work, namely from Kento regarding the publication of the magazine you modeled for.

The second bunch were the obligatory Instagram mentions, the most important being the one from Satoru’s post alongside a series of his choice photos from that day with you.

That’s when you remember things can and will go wrong, as the third set are all various notifications of strangers blowing up your account. The majority falls under Satoru’s post, a bunch of his followers spitting venom your way to target you.

Who’s this nobody he’s with?

Can she get any closer to him? I bet she’s just using him for clout

Must’ve been torture for him :( she’s not even that pretty lmao

Would look so much better with only Satoru.

You want to look away, you really do. You’d love nothing more than to shut your phone off and throw it at the wall, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s nothing new for you to be hated on like this. The sad reality is that it’s to be expected, no thanks to the anonymity of the internet. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

They’re jealous.

You know that.

Just obsessed fans taking out their anger on you because they wish it was them at his side.

You know that too, but it doesn’t stop the dark cloud that hangs over you wherever you go.

Why don’t you just stay in your lane? Be a flower on the wall?

You should’ve turned the project down, given it to someone else. You don’t deserve the recognition it brings.

This is your fault, you know. You should’ve listened to your parents when they said you weren’t going to succeed in life.

You sit up properly on the couch, tucking your knees to your chest. For a while, all you can bring yourself to do is stare blankly at the screen, watching all the new messages come through every passing minute. It’s a given, considering Satoru’s astonishingly high following. It isn’t until your phone shuts down from a low battery that you throw it aside and fall to your side, letting the tears come cascading down.

You wake up later, still lying on your side with a damp feeling against your face. The light that comes through your apartment is soft, no doubt earlier in the day compared to when you normally choose to wake up. Begrudgingly, you push yourself off the couch, listening to every creak your bones make like dated wood.

The first thing you do is plug your phone in to charge, followed by feeding Tsumiki her breakfast. You ponder whether you want anything, but even if your stomach was growling, you don’t feel all that deserving to eat. Not only does your depression take away your appetite at times, but it also puts a strain on the relationship you have with food and other things pertaining to your day-to-day life.

A shower helps. At least there you can attempt to drown out your thoughts with the water that rains down. Even when physically after you’re clean and smell nice, you still don’t feel all that great. Against your better judgement, you go to see how things were looking today on your phone.

The answer?

Worse.

More of the same shit fills your feed, but with the added bonus now of threats and other hate in your DMs, and all over your own posts that had nothing to do with the magazine. All are a courtesy from the people with nothing better to do than wish harm upon you for breathing the same air as their celebrity crush.

Speaking of, there’s a new message from him.

Satoru Gojo heyyy so sugu, sho, and I are going out to star plasma later to celebrate, you wanna meet up???

You Sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on :( hope you guys have fun though!

Satoru Gojo boooo :( well if you change your mind, we’ll be there <3

You wonder if he’s seen the same hate you have, or maybe he’s just that good at ignoring it for his own sanity. That, or maybe he just doesn’t care what they’re saying. Not everyone is like you.

Oh, how you wish you could be like that. You also wish you didn’t feel the need to lie to him about having work. The thought of the gang seeing you in this state fills you with disgust, not to mention if Toji’s working tonight.

You place your phone back down on your nightstand, eyes drifting across to your bed. Most of the time, it’s the only place you want to be in, all wrapped up nice and tight under lays of blankets.

Other times it feels like a prison.

All the fabric acting like chains, keeping you bound to your mattress with no hope to escape. It’s during these times that everything outside the walls of your apartment frighten you to no end. And like always, you give in to the call of your damnation.

Sinking down into the cold sheets, you stare now up at the blank, white ceiling. The various scuffs and spots act like sheep for you to count as you make a mental note to clean them later. That will have to wait for a day you feel capable. A day you feel better if that day ever comes before it’s too late.

Why does it seem so easy for others to ignore all the drama of life and intrusive thoughts? They make it sound so easy, that being a normal, functional being is easy but here you are, wallowing in your own misery. You long to feel happy in life rather than the sorrow you feel now.

But will that ever happen?

A few unremarkable days have gone by since then, and you still bear no signs of feeling better.

You’ve stopped crying now, but the emptiness took over. Somehow you manage to get out of bed, only to mindlessly complete your work and anything else you have to do. Tsumiki’s been hanging close-by, as if she senses how distraught you are. Her meows and cuddles are the only thing bringing a ghost of a smile to your face as you shut out the rest of the world.

Food has been minimal, most of it not even having a taste when it hits your tongue. Your appetite is lacking either for anything more than a few bites. All in all, you’re just passing time until you can fall asleep, letting time go by that you later hate yourself for missing.

Depression is an awful cycle.

Today you decided you needed to head to the store. You tell yourself it’s to get Tsumiki more food or toys for putting up with you, but the truth is that your fridge is looking scarce. Your meals have mainly consisted of whatever is easy to make, jokingly referring to it as “girl dinners” to try and make yourself laugh.

You don’t put much thought into your outfit, choosing to wear something easy to keep you warm in this December month. Sometimes it’s nice to try and look pretty to help your confidence and all, but right now you’d rather hide under bulky fabrics. There doesn’t feel like much of a point to care, either way. What does it matter?

It's a quick trip in the end, only coming back with a few bags. You keep your eyes low to the ground, counting the concrete tiles to keep your mind at bay. It works, up until you notice your neighbor hunched over an idled car out front of your building.

Something’s off, you notice, and it makes the hairs stand straight up on your neck.

Never once have you seen Toji express an emotion like the one you’re seeing ─ the death stare he’s giving whoever is sitting in the car. For someone so typically calm, this apparent anger is so much scarier than any cursed doll could hope to achieve.

Who is he talking to?

You want to know, but at the same time you don’t if they’re upsetting Toji this much. Your breathing stills as you walk by, hoping to slip into the front door without being noticed. You make it as far as a few steps up before you’re stopped short from a voice.

“Hey.”

Your body tenses up. You’ve been avoiding contact with anyone outside of work for a few days, and you especially don’t want to be near whatever was going on outside just moments ago. He doesn’t need to be burdened by you.

“Hey, Toji.” You turn your head slowly to the man, weakly smiling.

He makes a few steps up to where you are, a silent urge to continue heading up to your floor together. The fire you previously saw raging in his eyes no longer appears present, instead replaced with his normal scowl.

“I saw your friends the other night at the bar, was hoping you’d be with ‘em.”

You exhale quietly, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, I– wasn’t feeling it that day,” you mutter.

Toji’s eyes narrow with furrowed brows to match but he continues with your pace.

“I’ve got some time before my shift if you wanted to watch that fish movie or somethin’ else,” he asks. You bite your lip as you think of your response.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” You go silent for a moment, save for the tapping of shoes against the tiled floor. “Some other night?”

He raises his hand sheepishly to his neck. “Yeah, no problem,” he says with the hint of disappointment in his words.

Fuck, you don’t want to hurt him. Especially with another lie to someone close to you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning the key in your front door. “See you later.”

“See yo–“ The door shuts before Toji can even finish responding.

The guilt settles in like a knife to your heart. Enough so that you slide your back down the door to sit with your head between your knees.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Disgust drips off your words.

Tsumiki comes right up to you purring away. For several minutes, you remain there on the ground petting her before finally getting up to put the groceries away. Shortly after, you return to your bed, indulging yourself with some good old blue-light exposure therapy. Tsumiki joins you, bringing in one of the new toys you bought for her.

Later, a soft knocking startles you from your sleep, not even realizing you had fallen asleep in the first place. The time on your phone shows that it’s after midnight, so who in their right mind needs you at this hour?

Cautiously, you approach the door, peering through to the peephole only to reveal…no one?

Huh, wrong house?

You turn away from the door, only for there to be another knock, but still nothing through the peephole. You end up opening the door without even thinking, and now you realize why you couldn’t see anything.

“Megumi?” He stands there teary-eyed, clutching his frog plush tightly in his arms. “What’s wrong, did something happen?” you ask with a gentle voice.

“I had a bad dream.” He sniffles, his lip starting to quiver with oncoming sobs.

“Come here, ‘Gumi.” You take him into your arms, lifting him up, and closing the door behind you as you take him to the couch. With one hand, you rub soft shapes over his back as you sit him down with you. “There, there,” you coo.

Megumi holds on to you tightly like a baby koala. There’s a damp feeling sticking to your chest from the tears falling from his eyes. In this moment, you put aside whatever troubles you might have. He needs you right now.

You give him a minute to relax and calm down, waiting to ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” But he shakes his head in response. “That’s alright, you don’t have to,” you tell him softly, further adding, “I’m right here with you, you’re safe now.”

Toji must be at work for Megumi to have come knocking, so you pull up his number on your phone, texting to let him know about the situation.

“Hey, ‘Gumi? You want to try going back to sleep?” He whines into your shirt, doing everything he can with his tiny hands to stay fixed to you.

“Don’t leave me, please…” He sniffles, and your heart breaks. There are those words again, you think, remembering the time in the bathroom with him once before.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassure.

You give him some time to calm down, humming a familiar lullaby to whisk him away to sleep. He grumbles when you place him down into your bed, the spot still warm from your earlier rest, but he finds that he can’t fight his heavy eyelids. Between your song and the fingers running through his hair, he has no choice but to fall asleep once again.

“Ma..ma…” he murmurs, and you feel a tear fall from your eye.

Tsumiki joins you now, curling right up to Megumi’s side like the comforting angel she is. You send another message to Toji to let him know he’s still with you, to which he replies that he’ll be right over after his shift ends.

So much for avoiding contact with others, but it’s for Megumi’s sake right now.

It feels like déjà vu the next time you hear the knocking at your front door.

“Hey Toji,” you greet, parting the door for him to enter. He looks around with a confused look at first. He’s thrown off by the lack of lit candles, ambient light, or anything else. Instead, it’s just you, illuminated only by the moonlight peeking through the apartment.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, meeting your eyes. It’s a good thing it’s dark, so he hopefully can’t see the evidence of your tears.

“No, I haven’t slept yet,” you admit, and it only serves to puzzle him further. There’s a lot he wants to ask, but you’re already motioning towards your bedroom. He sighs, moving to catch up with you.

“He looks right at home,” Toji remarks, brushing Megumi’s hair back to better see his face. He gives Tsumiki some attention, careful not to disturb his son’s sleep in the process. Once Megumi is up into his arms, the two of you head back towards your door. He stops, turning to look you in the eyes again. “Thanks for watching him.” He doesn’t move from his spot, though his brows begin to furrow in thought. “About earlier…is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

You feel your stomach dropping. The guilt you felt earlier comes crawling back up with razor-sharp claws. “Oh. No, no ─ I’m…sorry about that,” you stammer out, feeling your chest tighten. “You didn’t do anything, I promise.”

“What’s up then, you’ve been actin’ weir–“ Megumi interrupts with some slight stirring in his sleep from Toji’s raised voice.

“I’m okay, Toji. Really,” you try and convince, despite feeling the exact opposite. Another lie that stains your soul, but you remind yourself that it’s not his problem. You’re not his burden to bear.

You’re not sure if even bought it, especially after the noncommittal grunt he makes with eyes that stare intently, as if peering into your soul despite the darkness.

“Alright,” he says after a minute, his voice noticeably calmer, but still unsure. “If there is something, you can talk to me, okay?”

“I will, thanks.” You open the door to let him out. “Goodnight.”

His head dips to you before the door shuts completely. “Goodnight,” he replies, with your name punctuating.

For some reason it hurts to hear your actual name for once instead of a pet name.

With your apartment empty once again, it feels colder than ever. Lately you’ve been feeling that way a lot. It’s only when Toji is there that your house truly feels like a home.

You meander your way back into bed, curling up into a ball facing the window. You can’t shake the cold you’re feeling, no matter the number of blankets overtop your body. Even the dimly lit skies seem to relate with you.

When was the last time you could see the stars shining so beautifully?

There was a time you yourself felt like a bright star once, one that floated easily through the cold expanse of the universe without any issue. Unlike the other stars that met their fate, there was no spectacular supernova at the end of it all. No rainbow plumes of stardust to vividly show all of existence how good of a life you’ve lived.

It was more like a flip of a switch when it came to you. Shining one day like normal and the next, a bleak void of what you once were, absent of any light.

You roll away to face the wall opposite of your room, moving your hands to clasp either shoulder in a self-embrace.

I miss the warmth.

You wake up alone for once, with Tsumiki nowhere to be found from where you lay. It’s nothing you worry about quite yet, as you figure she’s out in the living room watching birds. You get up to investigate, but to your dismay, she isn’t out there either.

You don’t see her anywhere.

Strange, you think. Maybe she’ll come out for breakfast…?

You try that next. Heading to the kitchen to prepare her usual pampered meal, making noise as you call for her.

“Tsumi!” you croon, adding a pspsps after, but again, nothing.

There’s no way she could’ve gotten out of the house, so she must be around here somewhere. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you’re scouring in and around every piece of furniture you have looking for her. Eventually, you do find her, all tucked away inside your closet on a pile of your clothes.

“There you are!” you exhale in relief. “Do you know how worried I was?” you coo. You then move to pick her up and she doesn’t protest, but she also doesn’t start purring or mewling either.

You bring her out the kitchen, placing her down with her bowl. Your heart sinks again when she sniffs the dish and ultimately turns her nose up.

Tears weld up at the edge of your eyes. “Fuck, Tsumi’, don’t do this to me.” You start to pace, chewing anxiously on your lip as you watch her huddle up in another corner of your apartment. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Fuck, fuck, what do I do?

Searching the internet is your first idea, but the results are anything but helpful. Half the results are akin to that of WebMD (read: you’re already dead). By this point, you’re hysterical now, fixing to hyperventilate as the last bit of control you have slips away.

Of all the times for something like this to happen, it has to happen to Tsumiki. You’d give anything to swap places because you love her more than life itself. But when it rains, it pours, and right now it feels like a hurricane is hanging overhead.

She needs a vet, but you can’t possibly run with her across town. Waiting for a taxi will only prolong whatever she’s suffering from. Fuck, if only you could afford your own car, this wouldn’t be an issue!

But then you remember one thing.

Toji has a car.

Toji.

With no time to waste, you sprint out the door of your apartment, frantically knocking on his all while desperately hoping he’s even home to answer. Your prayers are answered when the door opens, revealing the man himself, half-asleep and shirtless.

“Toji, I-I-I–“ your voice cracks between sobs.

“Woah, woah, slow down,” he interrupts, placing his hands on both ends of your shoulders. He lowers his head to your level. Seeing you in distress snaps him awake. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Tsumiki ─ I-I don’t know, I think she’s sick!” you stammer out, “I need to get her to a vet but–“

“Go get her; I’ll get my keys.” His voice is calm as he tries to reassure you, bringing his thumb up your cheek, wiping away a tear with the rough padding of his thumb. “Breathe, okay?” You nod, but you’re still trembling.

Toji releases his hands from you, allowing you to run back inside to grab Tsumiki. You place her gently into her transport while at the same time, Toji enters your apartment, taking the crate from your unsteady hands.

The two of you exit the building as quickly as you can, letting Toji settle her into the backseat while you situate yourself right there at her side, cooing to ease your baby’s scared hollers. Toji wastes no time pulling out on the main road for the directions you gave him, putting on his seatbelt as he went.

From time to time, he looks back at you through the mirror, seeing you hunched over in tears over the crate. You’re trying to be calm for her, you really are, but it’s so hard.

You arrive in record time at the emergency clinic, Toji once again carrying the crate inside the building while you briskly make your way to the receptionist. You tell them your name, and everything else they need to know while they work on all the check-in procedures, eventually handing you a clipboard and pen to fill out with further information to fill out.

Toji guides you with a steady hand to the waiting area which includes several benches and tables to take advantage of. He places Tsumiki’s crate on a spot directly in front of you, pulling you down to sit instead of letting you pace the room. Both your legs and hands are shaking uncontrollably with fear, teardrops dotting the paper and ink as you try to write out what they need.

“Hey.” Toji cups your dominant hand with his own, bringing the movement to a standstill. “Breathe,” he calmly requests. “I know it’s tough, but you gotta try and relax for Tsumiki. You aren’t gonna be helpful to her if you suddenly drop over,” he tells you, and he’s right.

“I can’t let anything happen to her,” you mutter with a hoarse voice. You lean forward in your seat, moving your hands to the back of your head.

Toji slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him. “I know.” His words are low, only for you to hear as he speaks into your ear.

“I don’t know what I’d do if something h-happened to her, she’s–“ A hiccup interrupts you. “she’s all I have left. Without her, I…I can’t.”

Toji takes the clipboard from you, putting it next to Tsumiki so he can fully embrace you with both arms. Your head is pulled against his chest and the fabric of his shirt helps to muffle your shattering heart.

“That’s not true,” he begins, his tone of voice calm, but equally stern, “You have me, Megs, those other three friends, even that boss of yours. You said it all yourself to me.” He pauses, bringing his hand up through your hair. His grip is tight yet offers indescribable comfort. The bottom of his jaw settles on the crown of your head. “You are not alone. Not anymore,” he promises.

If you could put a pin on when you start to fall in love in with someone, this would be one of those moments. Even if all he’s doing is reassuring you as any good friend would, it means the world to you and more. A moment in time you’ll never forget for as long as you live.

“Toji, I–“ You lift your head from his chest, taking one sniffle before you catch that metallic scent. You move fast to clutch your nose, but it’s too late. “Shit!” you hiss.

Toji leans back to see what happened. His eyes widen upon seeing the blood trickling down the palm of your hand, hitting his shirt in the process. Thankfully, there’s plenty of tissues given the environment, so he grabs a handful to hold under your nose.

“Fuck,” you cry out, “I’m so sorry, Toji.”

“Don’t be,” he huffs with some underlying amusement. “A bit of blood is nothing, I couldn’t care less.” You swap places with his hand holding the tissues. “Are you okay?” he asks, helping to clean the area around your hand.

“I’m sorry, Toji,” you mumble, lowering your head. “I’m such a mess right now, I don’t mean to burden you.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies, resting his palm on the apex of your head, teasing your hair in the process like he does to Megumi. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you’re not a burden. Let your ‘knight in shining armor’ be here for you.” He winks.

His helpful teasing earns the hint of a smile on your face and a short-lived laugh, but it’s enough to begin to lighten the mood. At least until you hear a voice calling out your name.

You stand up, reaching out for Tsumiki’s carrier but then you hesitate. “Hey Toji?” He hums in acknowledgement. “Do you mind coming with me for this, please?”

He smiles. “Not at all, princess.”

When all is said and done, Toji drives you back home, walking you back up into your apartment. There, he places the carrier down gently, allowing Tsumiki to roam free.

“I feel, so stupid,” you sigh, kneeling down and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “All of that for a simple tummy ache.”

Toji chuckles, “Hey, it shows how much you love her. You can’t fault yourself there.”

You turn your head to look at him with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I took so much time out of your day.” Your mind flashes back to when he opened the door earlier in his sleeping form and you can feel the heat reawakening in your body. “I woke you up for it too,” you breathe out a laugh.

“What did I say about the apologies, princess?” He crouches down in front of you causing his denim jeans to bunch up. One of his knees bumps against yours given how close he is. “I’d like to know what else is bothering you though,” he suddenly inquires, and you feel the same guilt you felt the last time creep back up like bile in your throat.

Once again, you border on the crossroads of what to say. It’s a huge step to trust someone else enough to share your vulnerabilities ─ but if it’s Toji… maybe you can? You did it before and it worked out better than expected.

You remain quiet as you stand from your spot, moving towards the couch. While you’re busy pulling your phone out, he rises and makes his way over to your side.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, trying to meet your eyes. “But we’re friends. I want to help you if you’ll let me.”

It’s a lot coming from Toji.

You’ve learned over the course of knowing him that feelings don’t come easy. He does what he can, and what he feels is the best course of action. It’s a big reason as to why you struggle to pay him back for all his moments of kindness. You’ve come to realize that that’s how he best expresses himself, not only through teasing, but also through acts of service.

Being not only a bartender, but also more importantly a father, it’s forced him to open up more to others and to himself. To reflect on his own feelings and shortcomings so he can be better for Megumi. It’s not easy and he certainly doesn’t do all this effort for others, but for you, he will.

You pass him the device silently, pulling your knees to your chest. You let one knee rest against your cheek as you look his way, and at the same time you avoid eye contact. Toji’s expression softens, and there’s the slightest hint of red on his ears, but mainly there’s some confusion in his features.

“These are beautiful ─ you’re beautiful,” he tells you, looking back your way. “What’s the problem with ‘em?”

You want to smile. It’s hard not to let alone the blush trying to come alive. There’s just one issue.

“This,” you proclaim, scrolling down to expand the comment section with your finger. “This,” you repeat, “is the problem.” You wrap your arms around your legs, hugging them to you with an empty expression.

He looks back and his face immediately darkens into a scowl. “You know they’re just spewing shit out of their asses, right? Bunch of dumb fucks that don’t have anything better to do,” he grumbles, more curses following under his breath.

“They’re not all wrong though,” you let out a dry chuckle.

“No, uh uh.” He shakes his head, the words spilling out fast and like that of a growl, “Do not do that to yourself. Don’t think for a second this shit means anything.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it!” you exclaim, drawing out each word. Your fears have come alive as the dam breaks. The tears that fall from your eyes are hot and heavy, flooding down your cheeks. “Every single thing they say sticks with me, and I hear it all the time in my head!”

He moves to sit in front of you, placing one hand down on your knee. “You shouldn’t listen to anything on here,” he says more calmly this time, scrolling further down the post. “It’s all garbage, they’re garbage.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” you mumble, tightening your grip around yourself to the point your nails are digging into the fabric of your pants to reach your skin. “I hate it so much,” you drawl, “and I hate mys–“

“No.”

His tone makes you flinch, stopping you from continuing. The only noises shared between you two is that of the sobs you try and hold back to not make a sound. To not let another hear you sob.

“Look at me,” he almost whispers to you. “Please?” he insists when you don’t respond.

You eventually do, keeping half your face hidden beneath your forearms, but your eyes finally meet his own and you see the worry behind them.

“No matter what anyone says, you deserved to be on that magazine. Satoru didn’t make you the model you are, that was all you, do you understand?” He pauses, waiting for you to nod before he continues, “Listen to me when I tell you that you are beautiful. These assholes don’t mean shit, and even he agrees,” he finishes by handing you your phone back.

You’re puzzled until you see what Toji is referring to ─ a recent update on Satoru’s page where he expresses how disgusted he is by the comments. He goes on to bash the people spewing hate at someone he deems his friend and how you deserve none of it. The words bring more tears to your eyes, but not all of them are sourced from a well of sorrow this time around.

Toji goes on to say, “You should post your own pics too from that day. Be proud of yourself and the work you put in.”

You still can’t help but scoff, “Yeah, and give them more fuel? It’s bad enough they’re under all my other photos too.”

“So?” he scoffs back. “Fuck whatever they have to say. Remember what I told you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, wiping your tears. “I’ll do it.”

His lips upturn into a wolfish grin. “Good girl. Show ‘em who’s boss.” He pats your knee a few times before returning it to his side. “Now what do you say about ordering in some food? We can watch that fish thing too with Megs if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widen, darting to the clock on your phone to see how late it is. “Oh my god, Megumi! I’m so sorry, is he–“

“Relax, he’s fine,” he states, appeasing your worries. “I had his sitter pick him up from school.”

“Oh, thank god,” you sigh again. “I was so caught up with my own shit, I completely forgot.”

“No harm done, so quit apologizing already,” he teases.

“I’m sorry ─ fuck, sorr–“ You clasp your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. Toji gives you a blank stare with his mouth stretched in a fine line before your stomach breaks the silence with a loud growl. You hide yourself behind your legs from the humiliation, meanwhile Toji breaks out laughing.

Funny how the tables have turned.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He stands up, pulling his phone out from his back pocket. “Speaking of the kid though, his birthday is coming up.” His hand meets the back of his neck. “It’d mean a lot to him if you’re there for it, we’re havin’ a small party.”

“I’d love to,” you reply with a bright smile ─ the first and most genuine one you’ve made in several days.

“Thanks.” He returns your smile. “I’ll go get the kid then and order your favorite, so get comfortable while I’m gone.”

As he leaves, you go back to some of the latest posts on your profile. To your surprise, a lot of the hate and threats you saw were no longer there. Even the threats in your DMs disappeared or their accounts suspended. You have a feeling Kento has something to do with this, to which you’ll have to thank him later.

You pan through the official photos from the shoot, choosing all your favorites. With a shaky hand, you remember Toji’s words and hit the button to upload your post. Moments later, a new message comes through from your group chat.

Satoru Gojo oi oi, you’re posting again! are you okay??? we miss you :(

You I’m okay now, I’m sorry for worrying you guys.

Suguru Geto Don’t be, you have every right to want your own space. We’re just happy to hear from you again.

Shoko Ieirinext time though you should tell us so we can help you feel better 💕

Satoru Gojo yeah^^^ I was this 🤏 close to getting that double D DILF you like to drive us to your place so we could see you

You oh my god, don’t even start

Satoru Gojo hehehe I can see you blushing through the screen >:3

Shoko Ieiri no need to deny the obvious :)

Suguru Geto I’m with them on this. :)

You wipe the happy tears off your face just in time for Megumi to come running in. He throws himself into you for a nice big hug, with Toji following closely behind.

“Food’s on its way, you feelin’ better?”

“Yeah.” You nod in response. “And thank you, Toji. I’m glad we’re friends,” you tell him with a sincere sounding voice.

“Me too, sweetheart.” He plops down next to you, pulling Megumi into his lap to bounce on his knee. “Now let’s get this movie going then so we can watch Alien later.” He gives you a devious grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, funny joke.”

“We’ll see about that,” he teases.

Megumi ends up thoroughly enjoying Finding Nemo, reciting Dory’s iconic line “just keep swimming” over and over to the amusement of you both. Toji on the other hand tries his best to deny the Gill allegations, but it proves to be an impossible battle once Megumi began to point it out and back you up on the claim.

After dinner, Tsumiki ends up joining you three on the couch as well, feeling better than ever now that she has the laps of three people to choose from for love. But between all the laughing and combined joy, you can safely say that in this moment, you feel a whole lot warmer than you did before.

☆ Notes: I will self-indulge myself with movie and song titles that I know and love unapologetically. It’s my way of giving recommendations in a self-insert fic where I try and make the reader as inclusive as I can within the realm of what I’m trying to achieve. jennifer tilly is my celebrity crush <3

also I don’t know about you all, but when I get super stressed out and cry, my nose starts bleeding like hell which is why I wanted to add that scene in specific to add to the depth of the reader's anxieties

revising this chapter makes me realize how much dialogue is hard to do for me. I get so stuck on whether or not I believe a character would actually say what I’m making them say, but then I try to remind myself that there’s some wildly outlandish stuff I’ve seen in other fics that’s still enjoyable to read even their personalities are crazy OOC. Hope that isn’t too much the case here, as soft!toji is something I really try to focus on given all the shit he’s been through.

Here's a fun toji edit by the way >:)