#things i would draw if i knew how to draw

[moonstruckme]

Hello! I find myself unable to stop thinking about fae Sirius, so here's another drabble about him as sort of a continuation to the first :)

cw: brief, vague allusion to sex

fae!Sirius x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

You’re scanning the earth for small, white flowers when there’s a rustle in the bushes nearby. You turn, expecting the orange streak of a fox vanishing into the brush or a bird taking flight, but you see nothing. The forest is quieter today, as it has been for you lately. Stiller. The sort of place with secrets. 

You draw in a breath as arms snake around your middle, catching you in their snare. 

“Hello, my little naïf,” says a familiar voice, smooth and lovely as the rock in your pocket. “What are you doing wandering about by yourself?”

You turn in Sirius’ arms. He grins down at you, and you press your smiles together in a gentle kiss hello as your own arms wind around his middle. He likes spending a lot of time pressed close together like this; you didn’t know you’d enjoy it so much until you did. 

“I’m looking for chickweed,” you answer him. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. Like most of him, they’re beautiful, finely shaped things; you reach up to trace your finger underneath one. Sirius very dignifiedly does not preen over it. “You’re not looking for me?” 

You shake your head, though you both know it’s a lie. You’ve always enjoyed this particular forest, but you visit twice as often since you met him. You’re never not thinking about Sirius, finding things for him, wishing to see him. It’d be embarrassing if he weren’t the same. 

“I was looking for you,” you confide to appease him. 

He tuts softly, a smile curving one side of his mouth. Sirius loves when you’re plain about your feelings for him. He doesn't always return the courtesy, but that’s alright; you can tell that they’re there whether he does or not. He wouldn’t have given you his name otherwise. 

“And what have you brought for me today, lovely thing?” 

“Do I always need to bring you something?” you ask, teasing. “Am I not enough by myself? You never give me anything.” 

Sirius’ eyes flicker with amusement, because this too is a lie. Sirius has given you many, many things. He’s taught you how to listen to the moods of the wind and shown you how to entice butterflies to rest in your palm and brought you unimaginable pleasure one long afternoon by the creek. Not least of all, he’s given you his devotion, proven in a thousand tiny ways. 

You’re unable to conceal your smile as you reach into your pocket, pulling out the rock you picked up this morning. It’s oval, worn to perfect smoothness by the rushing waters of the river you found it near, and a grayish blue that reminds you of Sirius’ eyes (when they stay still for a while, that is). 

Sirius takes the rock from you, studying it. He rubs his thumb across the top. “This is pretty.” 

“It is,” you agree, basking in your own private pleasure. You think he’d still say the same thing even if he did know why you chose it for him, but you enjoy keeping this to yourself. Sirius’ eyes slide to yours like he can tell you’re keeping secrets, but he doesn’t push. 

“Not,” he says, “as pretty as you, however.” His hold tightens without warning, drawing a surprised giggle from you as your bodies come flush together. “You’re more than enough of a gift.” 

You hear the sincerity in his tone and repay it in kind, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I know.” 

Sirius’ eyes squint the way they tend to do when you particularly delight him. Just before he calls you strange or silly or my lovely little oddity. He doesn’t say any of those things now; only, “You won’t find chickweed around here, you know.” 

You frown. “If I knew, why would I be looking?” 

Sirius heaves a great sigh and presses his lips to your temple before loosening his hold on you. He guides you away from your little patch of bushes by your hand, moving with otherworldly grace. “There’s chickweed by the meadow. We’ll find it for you there. Do you use it for something?” 

You nod. “Pesto.” 

His brow furrows. 

“It’s food. I’ll bring some for you to try.” You give him a sweet look. “Thank you for showing me where to find it.” 

A low hum. “What would you do without me?” 

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll never have to find out.” 

“No,” he agrees, fingers winding between yours like vines, “you won’t.” 

[c0ffeejelly1]

Manhandling him

Multiple character headcannon

Authors note: UGH pls this whole things was for jokes bc I can’t really be that ask to make something I feel is good. Teehee. Also I can mischaracterise all I want okay let a girl dream pls. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warning: man it’s like the smallest hint of the nasty freaky stuff

“Babe, you got something on your face. Let me just…” You reach out to your boyfriend, making him look your way by gripping his chin firmly while you flick away a bit of ‘glitter’ from his cheek. “There you go.”

Strike one.

That was just the beginning of your strange behavior today.

“Hey baby, c’mere I wanna kiss…” you call him over from the other side of the kitchen counter, only to yank on his collar and pull him in for one hell of a snog. “Seriously, you have no business looking this good today.”

Strike two.

Just what was up with you today?

You just got home from work, and as he’s about to sit up to see you, you suddenly push him back down onto the couch, mumbling something about how much you “missed him”.

Strike three.

You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, but then you pause to check out his face.

Perhaps you took this prank too far…

The type to be oddly into it

“…are you hard?”

This snaps your boyfriend out of his thoughts.

He’d never ever ever thought he could find himself in a situation like this. this is the kind of stuff you see in movies, right? I mean, come on!

Just picture how mortifying it is to be turned on from someone mistreating you! It’s pathetic!

He can’t just blurt out, ‘oh hell yeah I’m hard’ in response to that question—why would anyone even think to ask that? What can a guy do in a moment like this except deny it?

“What? N-no!…” He glances away, feeling the weight of your intense gaze. “…maybe?”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, his mask crumbles entirely. There’s no use in pretending.

You’ve already seen right through him, leaving him no option but to retreat into a shadowy corner and disappear.

“Yeah.” He responds, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I…I am.”

Maybe it’s because of the way you handled him like he was nothing that made him so bothered.

Maybe it was the way you looked so desperate to have him that did it for him.

Either way, he’s discovered something about himself he never knew he ever had.

And make no mistake, you were going to exploit this discovery to the fullest.

“Have I told you how much I love you babe?” You pull back from his face after practically devouring it as he stands there, grinning like a lovesick fool, dishes still in hand.

“I think you should tell me more.”

“Wrap up with those dishes, and I’ll give you a demonstration instead.”

Be ready for one hell of a night cowgirl. Wink wink

Charcters: serizawa, armin, EREN, REINER, ukai, ATSUMU, Osamu, Gojo, CHOSO, leviathan, SATAN, DIAVOLO, IIDA, denki, tamaki, CHILDE, Cyno, sanji, LAW

The type to think you’ve finally gone crazy

you call out to him, noticing he seems lost in his phone. Yet, oddly enough, he flinches slightly every time you speak.

This reaction occurs whenever you draw near him, as if your voice startles him, even when you're just a breath away. It’s not that he dislikes your voice; rather, it feels like he’s a bit intimidated by you now.

What happened to the confident guy who was with you just two days ago? Why does he seem to be tiptoeing around you like a child with a fragile toy?

“Y/N…is everything alright?” He approaches you cautiously, maintaining a bit of distance, trying to balance his interest with a hint of hesitation. “You’ve been…um, I just wanted to check—are you upset with me?”

“Upset with you?” You set your phone aside, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be upset? Did you do something wrong?”

That’s the very question he’s grappling with. Your passionate touches and fervent kisses have left him bewildered about your feelings.

Are you so enamored that you can’t help yourself, or are you retaliating for something he might have done? Suddenly, a thought strikes him.

“…If this is about how intense things got last night, I’m sorry, but you did ask for it when I warned you I wouldn’t hold back—” His words are cut short as your hand swiftly covers his mouth.

“No! No that’s—just no. It was a prank babe, a trend I saw online” you say, removing your hand and placing both on his shoulders. “Last night has nothing to do with today or any other day.”

“Not even you complaining about being sore?”

“Not even me complaining about…wait I never did that!”

“Yeah buts it’s easy to tell.”

Charcters: REIGEN, giyuu, giyomei, JEAN, KAGEYAMA, hinata, kuroo, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, geto, NANAMI, Solomon, IZUKU, Diluc, LAIOS, zayne, LAW (Sowy I can see him as both)

The type to also manhandle you

Did you honestly believe you could manhandle him without facing the same treatment in return? Come on this is your boyfriend we’re talking about, In fact, I think he’s thrilled that you can boss him around so effortlessly.

So thrilled that he makes it into a competition

“Okay let’s see who tackles the first person on the bed.” His eyes shine with enthusiasm as he confidently places his hands on his hips. “If I win I get to have my way with you, and if you win, you get to have me have my way with you. Deal?”

You pause for a moment to process his words “…uh, how is that fair?”

“What do you mean?” he replies, brushing off your concern with a grin.

“I think it’s perfectly fair. No matter the outcome, you get a nice little reward, right?” His voice dances with mischief as he nudges you playfully with his elbow, clearly trying to elicit a reaction.

You roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, before relenting, “I guess it’s not so bad..”

“Exactly! Now, I’m going to count down. Ready? 3…2…” Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, he lunges at you, tackling you onto the bed before he even reaches 1.

“H-hey! That’s cheating, you can’t do that!” But your protests are ignored, your boyfriend already having you wrapped in his warm embrace, his face buried against your neck.

“This is what you get for how you’ve been treating me today.”

“What are you talking about?” You pause for a moment, though you suspect he’s finally caught on to your little scheme. “You mean me kissing you like any normal woman would with the love of her life?”

“No. Just you touching me all weirdly…”

“Don’t say it like that you make me sound like a perv.”

“Maybe cause you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“…”

“…”

“I’m not.”

Charcters: RENGOKU, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, hinata (yes again), kuroo (YESSS AGAIN), BOKUTO, TENDOU, MAMMON, DENKI (twice and what), kirishima, ITTO, rafayel, LUFFY

The type…yeah you ain’t doing that

Screw everything I just said in the intro. If you genuinely think you can manhandle this man and succeed. You’re crazy.

“Hey, come here, you’ve got something—” The moment your hand nears his face, he seizes your wrist, staring at you as if you’ve just committed a serious offense.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh…I’m trying to like get the little speck of glitter off your face.”

“We don’t own glitter?”

“Dust then?” He shoots you a skeptical glance.

“…sure.”

So that was an absolute fail…

But you’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet. No way! You just need to bide your time until nightfall, when he’s all soft and cuddly. That’s when you’ll make your move.

As the evening unfolds and you’re prepping for bed in the bathroom, you catch sight of him reaching for something in the cupboard above you. This is your moment. The time to pull him in close and—

SMACK

“The hell? What was that for?” He rubs his forehead, clearly taken aback by your sudden move.

Who knew kissing your boyfriend could be this complicated? Somehow, you ended up colliding headfirst into him, and now he’s clearly fed up with you.

“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go…” you say with a shy smile, nervously scratching the back of your head. “You alright?”

You gently move his hand away from his forehead to check for any damage, and to your surprise, he lets you.

Wait a minute… you actually moved his hand, and he’s okay with it? Is this manhandling? I think it’s manhandling. It’s manhandling.

“…I did it.”

“Did what?”

“I touched you!”

“??”

Pls stop confusing this man he’s already tired enough.

Charcters: dimple, akashi, MIDORIMA, aomine, sanemi, KAGEYAMA (yes again), TSUKISHIMA, iwaizumi, TOJI, LUCIFER, bakugou, AIZAWA, sylus, ZORO,

[octoberconstellation]

petunia - "your presence soothes me"

Being with you feels like being wrapped up in the softest blanket imaginable, listening to the rain while sitting on a window seat, your hands wrapped around a mug of cocoa. People come to you for advice and it’s almost always sound. You do tend to try to “fix things”–it’s okay for others to be having negative emotions, and sometimes they just need you to sit with them as they go through it. You are very artistic and you shouldn’t invalidate your creativity because you feel like you don’t express it flawlessly. Also, this applies to any medium: painting, drawing, music, singing, crafting, needlework, writing, or even just having a deep appreciation of art. You would be a penpal and get so creative with it. When you give someone a gift, it’s often homemade and intensely personal–you put so much thought into it. At least at some point you thought you would own a bakery or coffee shop when you grew up.

OMG HI ANDI THAT WAS SO FUN!! but also like brutally honest and knew things about me that i have no idea how they found them

open tags <3

Have you ever wondered what flower from Victorian flower language you are? I have! I have a quiz about it! (my credentials are that I have a spreadsheet of over 600 flower meanings)

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Hi, I love your writing! Could you please update either "Danny's grill", "Congratulations! It's Triplets!" or "Phantom's number 1 fan"? Please and thank you

Jason is once again reviewing the map of potential areas Alvin could have been operating in when his burner phone rings. He snatches it up before it can pass the fourth ring, pressing it gently against his ear.

He offers no greeting. It's a tactic he uses to ensure that whoever is calling him has permission to do so. If someone attempts to conform his informants' and allies connection with him, Jason is not about to give them away by speaking first.

"Hey Boss," Honeycomb's voice filters through, edged by that familiar overdramatic southern draw she did when working. Apparently, the clients like listening to her use her accent. "I got eyes on that doll you've been searching for."

Jason sits up straighter. "Where and when?"

Honeycomb is one of the working girls who's been with him since his return to Gotham. She was the first to sign up for his protection, long before he did the whole heads in a duffle bag thing, and was one of his best eyes and ears on the street in exchange.

He didn't know her real name or age- but he was sure she wasn't underage. He made it clear he wouldn't allow it. All Jason knew about Honeycomb was that she had run away from her home in the southern states with nothing but her pretty face, blond curls, hazel eyes, and the clothes on her back.

She was feisty and could charm her way out of most problems with her silver tongue. Her manipulation of her clients was almost an art form, and she could get any information out of anyone with a well-placed hand on the air and a sweet little "darling" on her grubby lips. He often thought she would have been a lawyer if life had been fair to her.

"Just now, on Ruby Street. He was with a man in his late teenage to early twenties. About six feet five inches, black hair, blue eyes, and Caucasian. Alvin was wearing black tights and a red hoodie. The man is in jeans and a white zip-up." Honeycomb rattles in one smooth report, the huskiness of her accent making her articulation more pleasant to the ear. "Seems they were doing a photo shoot."

Jason is already moving towards his bike, switching her call to his helmet. His stomach turns slightly as he grunts, "What kind of photoshoot?"

"Not that kind, Darling. Seemed more like a scavenger hunt, according to Alvin. They are finding specific landscapes and making posses that are answers to some riddles." Honeycomb responds. Distantly, her heels clicking against the concrete echo a little louder, letting Jason know she has wandered into an alley. "I approached Alvin when the man with him went up a fire escape to take a picture with a gargoyle. I offered him my service to him as a cover. Once he confirmed his name was Alvin and he was already with a client, I left before he could get the idea I was attempting to steal his work."

"Good job." Jason boots up his bike, flying out of his hideout without hesitation. He was still twenty minutes away from Ruby Street, but if the pair was going to be a moment, he could close the distance between them and find a trail to follow once on scene.

He questions as he flies through two lanes, ignoring the honking of angry divers. "How did Alvin look? He's supposed to be with one of my contacts, so if he's with someone, it might be a John roughing him up."

I'll deal with Victorian later. He mentally swears How dare he not tell me, Alvin went back to the field after hiding out for so long without a ounce of protection.

"The sweetheart doesn't seem hurt, but I can tell his client is one of those problematic kinds." Honeycombs sighs, the edges of unease slipping into her voice. "He looks at Alvin like he's in love."

Shit. It's never suitable for working folks to meet someone who "loves" them. Nine out of ten times, it was just a wacko who became violent the moment the prostitute so much as hinted that this was only a job to them. Jason had pulled out three women's bodies from the Brown River the last time one of those clients fell in love.

Jason pressed harder on the accelerator. "Are they still there?"

Honeycomb hums "The John is on the roof now, but Alvin is waiting for him under the street pole-Oh shit!"

Jason nearly slams into a nearby car at her sudden yell. "What happened?"

She doesn't answer, but he can pick up the sound of her running and her fast breathing. He knows she is getting out of danger because if there is one thing Honeycomb is as a person, she's a survivor. He wants answers but would rather she focus on getting herself safe first.

He meanwhile, concentrates on the phone calls and the vehicles he's flying between.

It's a few minutes before she gasps. "Sorry, Darling, I had to run. Batman was on the roof with the John."

What.

"Batman just appeared out of nowhere and threw a bucket of mud at the john. Alvin didn't seem to notice, but I did. Batman made eye contact with me, so I ran." She concludes, pushing through her uneven breathing. "I have to go, Darling. Hideout before the Bats lock me up."

"That's alright. Stay safe." Jason tells her, taking a turn sharply as she hangs up the call without another word. The second she does, he double-taps his helmet to connect to the Bat communications.

"Barbie. I need to know what B is up to now."

_________________________________________________________

Bruce watches the Fae shake the mud out of his face after he has scrambled down the fire escape. Tim was at his side in a second, using a handkerchief to gently clean up the Fae's face.

There were a lot of whispered words, but based on what Bruce could pick up from lip reading, Tim had no idea he was up here. He just assumed the Fae got caught up in a juvenile prank.

Oddly enough, that was primarily due to the Fae covering for Bruce.

It was rather disappointing the repealing spell hadn't worked, but the Justice League Dark the mixture of John's Wort, primroses, and marsh marigolds mushed together with water socked in iron during the full moon should have made it possible to force the contact with Tim to break down.

Of course, this had been a desperate attempt, seeing as all the JL Dark had been unsure which method was best when he asked how to get a Fae to leave a human alone.

A lot of debate went into finding a solution, but in the end, Bruce had chosen a mixture repellent. He had even decided to use some holy water and trough in blessed soil and blessed iron just to make it extra powerful.

The magic users had all assured him it would work as long as it touched the Fae skin while Bruce chanted Tim's full legal name. It had felt rather ridiculous dragging a bucket half the size of himself through the city, trying to spot where Tim and his companion were, and even more so when he had sprinted across the rooftop screaming.

"Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake!"

The Fae had been in the middle of taking a photo. He set up his camera on a little tripod and, after pressing the time, had run to face the city- back facing Bruce- raising his arms to form a triangle above his head. Based on fact the camera was slightly lower then the Fae's torso, Bruce could deduct her was attempting to capture himself making the triangle top of one of the most iconic buildings in Gotham.

Spear tower.

He waited only long enough for the flash to go off, so by the time the Fae turned around, he had a face full of mud.

It splat all over his front, covering every inch of what should have set Tim free. The silence followed was louder than anything Bruce had ever heard, even as the Fae calmly picked up his camera and scurried to the ground.

Bruce let him go, wondering why he had failed. Thankfully, it seemed Tim and the Fae were getting back in their car- not the food truck for some reason- and were driving away.

Tonight, Bruce would find its lair and get his son home because letting him take a relaxing vacation was alarming to the rest of his children.

He rushed to the Batmobile, climbing into the driver seat and taking off after the pair. As he was driving, he could have sworn Jason just passed by him, moving like the devil was after him.

Bruce wondered briefly if he should check in on his third oldest but thought better of it when he noticed Cass, Dick, and Duke driving right behind Jason on their own bikes. His children had each other backs.

A few hours later, Bruce stood before a large empty field. He had watched the Fae drive into it and vanish from sight. None of his machines could pick up any hint on where they might have gone, but he was reasonably sure there wasn't any teleportation involved.

Sometimes teleportation left some traces in the airwaves. It's how Bruce could track people using the boom tub or find the Flash whenever Barry went on a craze.

Bruce was thinking that this was the Fae's court and his magical home was being protected by supernatural means. He just had to figure out how to get in and Tim out.

As he was considering the field, a soft, distant roar made him reach for his weapons. He turns one hand poise for a throw, his trusted batarangs in between his fingers, only to become surprised when he recognizes the vehicles driving towards him.

It was his spare Batmobile and four bird-themed motorbikes. His children.

"B?" Dick questions after spinning to a stop and sliding right in front of Bruce. He lowers his window, looking at him with apparent confusion despite the Nightwing mask blocking his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following a lead on the Fae. What are you doing here?" Bruce asks, lowering his arm but keeping his weapon. He could never be too sure this isn't a trick.

"Following a lead on Tim." Dick responds, stepping out of his car. Two other doors open, and out steps Steph and Damian, both looking posed for a fight. Of all his children, those two tend to be the most territorial and have not taken to Tim being a semi-held hostage well. "Oracle was able to track him through the city cameras after he popped up taking photos."

"hmm"

Jason jogged over to them with Cass not far behind. "Wait,, you got a lead on your cases too? We would check in on Victorian and see if he knew anything about Alvin."

He gestures to those behind him, indicating Cass and Duke, but the daytime hero is not paying attention. Duke was staring at the field, mouth slightly open as if in awe. Bruce straightens once he realizes Duke can probably see or at least detect the magical castle.

"Victorian?" Damian asks, crossing his arms. "Who is that?"

"The owner of the giant mansion we're standing in front of. He's one of my contacts."

"Ugh, not to make you feel crazy, Hoodie," Steph speaks up, placing a hand on the crook of her hip and waving her hand to the field. "But there is literally nothing there

"What are you talking about. This place is bigger than Wayne Manor."

Bruce heard about this. Guests who have been here before or have permission to enter can see glimpses of the Otherworld that Fae deals in. However, it is surprising to know Jason has already been in contact with the Fae before and has not been kept.

Did that throw a wrench in his theory of Tim and Alvin being the same person? Why would the Fae ask Jason to find Tim if he was in the creature's home?

Before anyone could say anything else, a giant gate entrance suddenly manifested mere feet from where Bruce stood. A soft creek was heard as it was thrown open, and a glowing woman in an old mail outfit floated just a foot off the ground on the other side. She eyed them all in an eerie, emotionless face before bending her own into a low bow. "Welcome. My King wishes to invite you in."

Well, that's not ominous at all.

His children shared a look between them, silently letting each other know to be cautious as they followed the floating woman. She led them down an impressive driveway that slowly gave way to a massive mansion.

Bruce fought to keep the surprise off his face. Jason was right. This place was more prominent and grander than his manor. It didn't just scream wealth. It screamed nobility; it screamed royalty.

The group walked into the main hall, some muttering thanks to the bowing woman who opened the doors. "Of course. The King stated that his home would always be open to Master Alvin's kin."

She vanished from sight like mist fading away as soon as they crossed the doorway.

Bruce's eyes instantly landed on the figure standing atop the grand stairs. Tim was gawking at them, wearing nothing but a long, seductive black robe with fluffy collars and wrists. The front of the rob was open, displaying a large amount of chest and thigh, but keeping the significant bits out of sight.

Thankfully.

His skin was glowing, his hair tussled stylishly, and a dozen red roses were in his hands. Tim looked like he was planning a romantic evening in his get-up.

"Oh," He said dumbly. "You're not Danny."

"What the fuck is going on" Jason demanded after a long period of silence.

"Um...I was planning on seducing my friend. What are you all doing?"

"Regretting waking up this morning," Damian demands, pressing a hand over his eyes. "Please get decent. My nightmares are horrid enough."

Bruce nods. "You were Alvin Draper and are romantically involved with the Fae. He seems to be treating you well. That's good."

All of his children stared at him for a long moment before the hall erupted with displeased noises. Bruce was taken aback.

Did none of them know any of this? It seemed obvious to him.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

BLOCK ME OUT

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: haunted by her ex’s cruel words, y/n wishes she could block herself out. but rafe sees her differently—like she hung the stars in the sky.

based on this ask !! thank you for this anon, apologies that it’s taken so long, but i hope it’s what you asked for and you enjoy it :) <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: appearance insecurities, angsty with a soft ending, soft!rafe, rafe thinking violent thoughts (nothing unusual😝), past emotionally/verbally abusive relationship (reader’s ex), crying, cursing, allusions to sex. (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes tracing the features she had long since memorised yet never quite accepted. The fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows, making every perceived flaw stand out even more—the uneven texture of her skin, the way her cheeks seemed too full in certain angles but too hollow in others, the faint blemishes she could never quite cover no matter how much makeup she wore. Her fingers ghosted over her jawline, then moved to her lips, hesitating as if debating whether they were too thin or too full.

She sighed, dropping her hand and looking away. It didn’t matter. It never did.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice echoed from the hallway, warm and familiar. He must have noticed how long she had been in here. She took a breath and composed herself before stepping out, her lips pulling into a small, forced smile.

“Hey,” she said casually.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with that soft yet unreadable expression he sometimes had when he thought she wasn’t looking. His blue eyes flickered over her face, taking in every detail as if memorising it. She knew he was about to say something—probably a compliment, because he always did. And just like always, she prepared to ignore it.

“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmured, almost absentmindedly, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Y/N scoffed quietly, shaking her head as she crossed the room. “No, I don’t.”

Rafe frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in concern, but he didn’t argue. He never did. Instead, he just watched as she climbed into bed beside him, her body curling up instinctively, as if trying to take up less space. He noticed that too.

It had started small, the little deflections. The way she would dismiss any compliment he gave her with a wave of her hand or a disbelieving laugh. At first, he assumed she was just being humble, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized it was something else.

Something deeper.

A wound that hadn’t healed.

Rafe didn’t push. He didn’t ask. But he noticed.

Like the way her smile always faltered for just a second when someone called her pretty, as if the word physically pained her. Or how she always changed the subject when he told her she was beautiful, shifting the conversation so quickly it was almost seamless. If he wasn’t paying such close attention, he might’ve missed it.

But he was always paying attention.

Y/N knew she should appreciate Rafe’s compliments, knew that he wasn’t just saying them to be nice. But she couldn’t make herself believe them. Not after everything.

Not after him.

Her ex’s voice still lingered in the back of her mind like a ghost, whispering cruel words she could never quite erase.

“You really think you’re all that? God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure it’s pathetic.”

“I don’t know why you even bother with makeup—it doesn’t help.”

“No one’s looking at you the way you think they are. You’re just… average.”

She had spent so much time believing those words, internalising them, letting them take root deep inside her until they became an unshakable truth. And now, even though he was gone, even though she had someone like Rafe in her life—someone who looked at her like she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—she still couldn’t silence that voice.

Rafe had never once made her feel anything less than wanted. He never criticised, never made offhanded comments that chipped away at her self-worth. But that didn’t mean she knew how to accept kindness when it was given to her.

She felt his fingers brush lightly against her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“You tired?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

She nodded, grateful for the easy out. “Yeah. Just a long day.”

Rafe didn’t question it. He just reached over and pulled the blanket up over her, as if shielding her from whatever weight she was carrying. And maybe in his own way, he was.

She turned onto her side, facing away from him, but she could still feel his gaze on her, feel the warmth of his presence beside her.

For a moment, she let herself pretend that it was enough.

—

The night had started out perfectly.

Dinner was casual, nothing extravagant—just the two of them at his place, sitting across from each other, laughing between bites of food. It had been easy. Light. Y/N had almost felt normal, like the weight of her insecurities wasn’t pressing so hard against her ribs.

Rafe had been extra touchy that evening—his fingers brushing hers when he handed her a glass of wine, his palm resting at the small of her back as they moved through the house. Small touches, each one sending a shiver down her spine.

And now, here they were.

Y/N lay beneath him, the world shrinking to just the two of them, just the warmth of his body and the way his lips moved against hers like he couldn’t get enough. His hands skimmed her sides, slow and teasing, as if memorising every inch of her.

The air in the room had thickened, charged with something electric.

She should’ve been lost in it.

But she wasn’t.

Because the moment his fingers hooked under the hem of her shirt, inching it up over her ribs, that voice came creeping back.

“You think he really wants to see you?”

“You think he won’t notice how bad you look from this angle?”

“God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure, it’s pathetic.”

She tensed.

Rafe noticed immediately.

His lips paused against her neck, and she felt his breath, felt the slight hesitation in his movements. “You okay?” he murmured, voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a nod, forcing herself to push through it. Don’t ruin this. Don’t overthink it. Just let him love you.

But then his hands moved again, slipping beneath the fabric, and panic surged through her like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, she wasn’t here anymore. She was back in that old apartment, standing under fluorescent lighting as her ex tilted his head and examined her with a critical gaze.

“Your stomach isn’t as flat as you think.”

“I mean, yeah, you look good from the right angle, but not always.”

“Don’t get mad. I’m just being honest.”

Her breath hitched. The room felt smaller. Her chest ached.

She didn’t even realise she was shaking until Rafe pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn’t place. “Talk to me, baby.”

But she couldn’t.

Because she was already spiralling.

She shoved at his chest lightly, needing space, needing air. And Rafe—sweet, perceptive Rafe—moved immediately, sitting back on his heels, giving her exactly what she needed. But even with the distance, she couldn’t breathe right.

“I—I can’t do this,” she choked out, her throat tightening. “I just—I don’t—”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt pathetic, completely unravelling in front of him over something so stupid.

But Rafe didn’t move, didn’t rush her. He just watched her, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to piece together what had broken.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her breaths coming faster. “I just—” Her voice cracked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t feel good enough for you.”

The confession slipped out before she could stop it, and suddenly, the dam broke.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed of how easily she was falling apart.

“Y/N…”

She felt the mattress dip as Rafe moved closer, but he didn’t touch her. He just waited.

Waited for her to speak.

Waited for her to let him in.

She sniffled, wiping at her tears, but more came. “I—I don’t get how you could look at me like you do,” she whispered. “I don’t get how you could actually—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “How you could actually want this.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, confusion and pain flashing across his face. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a wet, bitter laugh. “I see myself, Rafe. I see what I look like from different angles. I know what people see.”

Rafe was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “You don’t know what I see.”

She swallowed hard. “I just—” Her voice trembled. “I worry that… that you’re not actually attracted to me. That you just think you are.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick.

And then, softly, carefully, Rafe asked, “Why do you think that?”

She exhaled shakily, dropping her gaze.

She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to open that box. But he deserved to know.

“My ex,” she finally whispered. “He… he made sure I knew what was wrong with me. All the time.”

Rafe went rigid.

She saw it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm, but she could see the fire behind his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and steady, like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. “Tell me what he said to you.”

Her throat felt tight, but she forced the words out. “He told me I wasn’t as pretty as I thought. That my body wasn’t as nice as I thought. That I only looked good from certain angles.” Her voice cracked. “And I believed him.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, looking away, his hands gripping the sheets like he was barely holding himself together. She could see the anger simmering beneath his skin, the way he wanted to break something, to scream, to hurt the person who had done this to her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned back to her, and when he spoke again, his voice was full of something even stronger than rage.

Love.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And not just from certain angles. Always.”

She tried to look away, but he didn’t let her.

“You think I don’t notice the way you brush off my compliments? The way you never believe me when I tell you how fucking perfect you are?” His voice wavered slightly, but he kept going. “It kills me, Y/N. It kills me that someone made you feel like this. That someone convinced you that you weren’t enough.”

More tears welled in her eyes. “Rafe…”

“No.” His voice was raw now, his emotions spilling over. “You are everything to me. Everything. And I don’t just want you—I crave you. Every part of you. Every inch of you. I don’t care what angle, what lighting, what bullshit insecurity you think you have—I love all of it. Because it’s you.”

Her lip trembled. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You are enough. You are more than enough.”

She broke.

Sobs wracked her body, and Rafe pulled her into his arms, holding her like he would never let go. He whispered into her hair, his voice soothing and warm, telling her over and over again how perfect she was, how much he loved her, how much she meant to him.

And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to believe him.

Because when Rafe Cameron looked at her, he didn’t see flaws. He didn’t see imperfections.

He saw the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see them too.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute and emotional one :’) i had this written up before i went away but finally got to editing it, just spending eh next couple days editing and posting the requests in my drafts !!

i hope this is what you asked for anon !! and as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) don’t hesitate to request <3

[h0efor2ho]

Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice  things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change.  As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. 

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed. 

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss. 

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

 His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance,  his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow. 

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes  for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile. 

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him. 

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making  your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you. 

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be. 

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Baby you are the baddest

Baby you are the baddest, baby you are the baddest girl

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎. 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 u 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆? 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

Characters - nanami kento , gojo Satoru and Suguru geto

Warning ⚠️ : contains suggestive smut, sexual content!

Gojo Satoru

Jujutsu Tech was hosting a huge party for all the students and teachers, and as one of the teachers, you were excited at least, you tried to be. You had asked Gojo to accompany you, but he refused, saying he was the organizer and had things to handle. So, you arrived alone.

You were wearing

Beautiful Right? Right??

But the moment you stepped in, something felt off. The room was filled with stunning people your coworkers looking absolutely amazing, dressed to impress. You knew you were beautiful, you reminded yourself over and over, but tonight… you just weren’t feeling it.

Then you saw her.

Gojo’s ex.

She was wearing blue too, but hers was a deeper, richer shade. Her dress was shorter, hugging her figure in all the right places. She looked effortlessly stunning, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Compliments flooded her way, and with each one, your confidence sank a little more.

Before you could spiral any further, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"ATTENTION!"

Gojo.

He cleared his throat, a smug grin already forming. Then, as expected, he started the program with one of his signature flirty lines something smooth, playful, the kind of thing he always did. Normally, you’d just roll your eyes, maybe even laugh.

But tonight?

Tonight, it just made you feel worse.

Everyone clapped, the room filled with cheers and applause. Lost in your thoughts, you barely reacted until Utahime lightly smacked your arm, snapping you out of it.

“Come on, at least pretend to enjoy yourself,” she muttered.

You let out an awkward snort, forcing a small laugh as you clapped along with the crowd. But no matter how much you tried to play along, that sinking feeling in your chest just wouldn’t go away.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, but the moment they landed on you his breath hitched.

For a second, his mind went completely blank.

Why the hell were you looking like that in front of them? Dressed so beautifully, so effortlessly stunning, yet standing there with an unsure look on your face? It made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

And the worst part? He was the one organizing this damn event meaning he couldn’t just walk over to you, couldn’t pull you aside, couldn’t do a damn thing about the way you were making his head spin.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating.

With every passing second, the insecurity crept in deeper. No matter how much you tried to shake it off, the feeling only got worse.

Then, between the chatters and musics, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

"Satoru was definitely checking me out. He still thinks about me. Maybe I can get him back." His ex..

Absolutely not. What the fuck?

"Hell nah, he has a girlfriend," her friend scoffed.

But she just waved it off, laughing dramatically before saying something that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"That girl? Yeah, she looks good, but be real would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?"

Her friend chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing. But you?

You stood there, frozen.

And for the first time tonight, a terrible thought crossed your mind.

Maybe… just maybe… she was right.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not anymore.

Your chest felt tight, your hands clenched at your sides as those words replayed in your head over and over again. Would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?

Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe Satoru deserved someone better. Someone who could match his energy, his confidence someone who wouldn’t feel small next to him.

Your vision blurred slightly as you turned on your heel.

Hell nah, you were not staying here any longer.

Maybe you'd even

No. The thought hurt too much to finish.

But a small, painful voice in your head whispered anyway.

Maybe you should break up with him.

Gojo was stress-eating sweets.

He had been trying really trying to get you off his mind, but it wasn’t working. Every time he glanced in your direction, he felt that same frustration bubbling up again. Why the hell did you have to look so good tonight? And why did you look so sad?

He hadn’t even noticed his ex in the crowd. Didn’t care, didn’t want to care. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t exist.

He took a deep breath, ready to continue his speech, when something caught his eye you.

You were leaving.

His heart lurched. And were you… wiping tears?

His stomach twisted, but on the outside, he kept his usual grin. Flashing a charming smile to the crowd, he smoothly passed the mic to Geto without missing a beat.

Then, without hesitation, he followed you.

You walked outside, tears streaming down your face as you tried to steady your breathing. Your chest ached, and no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they just wouldn’t leave.

Before you could take another step, you heard hurried footsteps behind you.

“Oi—”

Gojo caught up to you in an instant, his usual carefree presence feeling different this time. He let out an awkward laugh, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. No, this one was tense forced. Because if someone had done this to you, if someone had hurt you enough to make you cry, he would fucking hollow them without hesitation.

This was the first time he had ever seen you like this.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt unsure.

His voice wavered slightly as he reached for you, hesitating before speaking.

“B-baby… who got you crying like that? Tell me, what’s happening?” He tried to mask the worry in his voice, tried to keep up his usual playful charm, but it was useless his concern for you was far too obvious.

You swallowed hard, looking up at him, your heart breaking before the words even left your mouth.

“Gojo… let’s put an end to this.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

His mind short-circuited.

What in the world did you just say?

He looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

For a moment, he didn’t move just stood there, staring at you, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“It’s not time to joke, babe.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it something desperate, something scared.

But you only shook your head.

“I’m not kidding, Satoru.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “I looked at myself… and then at your ex… and I realized no, not realized, because it’s the truth you deserve someone better than me. Someone more attractive, someone at your level. After all… you’re the strongest sorcerer.”

You expected him to laugh it off, to tell you you were being ridiculous. But the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip on your hand tightened just a little more

He wasn’t laughing.

He was mad.

Not the kind of playful, teasing irritation he usually had no. This was different.

It wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. Not at you, but at the fact that you his girl were standing here, crying, actually believing you weren’t enough for him.

His eyes darkened for a split second, jaw tightening as if he was holding something back. But then, just as quickly, he dismissed it, forcing a smile onto his face.

And if you were being honest… that smile scared you a little.

Before you could say anything, he moved.

Swift, effortless he scooped you up into his arms without warning, ignoring your startled gasp.

“Satoru what the hell?”

“Shh, sweetheart.” His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that made your breath hitch.

Without another word, he carried you straight to the washroom, his grip firm, his expression unreadable.

He gently pulled you inside the bathroom and started to make out with you.

The moment he locked the door behind you, there were no words.

No hesitation.

Just him grabbing you, kissing you, devouring you.

It was rough, desperate, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that left you breathless. First, you had shown up looking so damn beautiful, completely stealing his focus. And then, you had the audacity to say you wanted to break up because you weren’t enough for him?

Enough for him?

Fucking enough for him?

You were everything to him. The most perfect, precious woman in the world. He saw perfection in every flaw you thought you had, and the fact that you couldn’t see it? The fact that you even doubted it?

It pissed him off.

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something unreadable, something intense, before he let out a sharp breath and snorted a quiet laugh.

Then he kissed you again.

Again.

And again.

“Ooo, look at this woman,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something dark, something possessive. His hands trailed down, fingertips skimming over your thighs inner thighs, to be precise.

Your breath hitched.

“S-Satoru, what the fuck?” Your voice wavered as you tried to gather your thoughts. “What if people-”

“They’re too busy, babe,” he cut in smoothly, lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles.

“But what if they catch us…” you whispered, your pulse racing. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see this.

A smirk curled against your skin.

“I hope nobody catches us,” he hummed, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

Then, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“But…” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "I kinda hope they catch us"

You gasped, hands gripping onto his shoulders when his fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your heat.

“You wore blue for me, no?” His tone was teasing, but the satisfaction in his voice was undeniable.

It was true. You had wanted to look good tonight. But more than that, you knew blue was his favorite color.

And yet, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your waistbandyou found yourself lowering your gaze , feeling shy.

"You are so gorgeous," he hummed against your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, pressing slow, lingering kisses.

"Baby, you’re the baddest girl… nobody else matters. Not anyone. Only you."

His voice was low, dripping with conviction, and the way he said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world made your head spin.

It was almost like he was gaslighting you into believing you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

And fuck it was working.

He gently pushed your dress up to your waist, exposing your soft skin to the cool air. His touch was slow, deliberate like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

Then, with the same maddening patience, he hooked his fingers around your panties and slid them down, removing them effortlessly.

But instead of tossing them aside, he smirked and casually slipped them into his pocket.

You gasped, your breath hitching as you instinctively clamped a hand over your mouth.

His smile only grew.

"Oh?" he mused, tilting his head, eyes dark with amusement. "Shy now, baby?"

You said nothing your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Each one sent a shiver down your spine, his lips warm, teasing, possessive.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, gripping onto him as he moved lower, his kisses trailing along your collarbone.

Then, without breaking contact, you heard the soft clink of metal.

Your eyes flickered down just in time to see him unfastening his belt, the sound making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

Satoru smirked against your skin.

"Still think I don’t want you, baby?" he murmured his voice dripping with amusement as he pulled his belt smoothly.

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face as he slowly slid the belt from its loops, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. His fingers moved next, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness like he was giving you a chance to stop him, to protest, to run.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not when his lips returned to your neck, kissing, biting, claiming you.

His hands roamed over your bare thighs, squeezing, kneading his touch firm yet teasing, possessive yet gentle. He was so big, his presence alone swallowing you whole.

"Still quiet?" he murmured, voice laced with amusement as his fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Not gonna fight me on this?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers slipped higher, parting your thighs with ease.

"Satoru—"

"Shh, sweetheart." His thumb brushed against your clit, barely applying pressure, yet it was enough to send a shiver through you.

Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip was firm.

"Uh-uh," he tutted, his other hand gripping your hip. "You’re not running from me now."

You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into his arms as he kept up his slow, torturous pace, his touch deliberate, calculated meant to break you.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping lower, thick with something dark and dangerous.

"Let me show you just how fucking perfect you are."

And that’s how it was Satoru making love to you in the bathroom, his touch reverent yet desperate, like he needed to prove something to you.

You muffled your gasps and moans, biting your lip, your hands gripping onto him as he moved against you, within you, filling every inch of your senses.

His eyes never left yours, filled with something deeper than lust something raw, devoted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses wherever he could reach.

“So fucking perfect for me.”

He watched you intently, drinking in every expression, every quiet sound, and when you looked up at him desperate, vulnerable he swore under his breath, leaning in to kiss you again.

As if he could make you feel just how much he meant every word.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t stop touching you, didn’t stop kissing you, didn’t stop whispering words that made your chest ache and your stomach tighten.

"God, baby… you have no idea what you do to me." His voice was hoarse, filled with something dangerous, something utterly worshipful.

"You’re not just beautiful. You’re stunning. The kind of gorgeous that makes people stop and stare, but they don’t even know the half of it."

His hands slid over your body, tracing every curve, every inch of skin like he was memorizing you.

"It’s not just your looks, sweetheart." He pressed a lingering kiss to your collarbone, then another, his lips trailing up your neck. "You. It’s you. Your smile, your laugh, your stubborn little attitude that drives me crazy."

You whimpered when he thrust deeper, and he groaned at the way you clenched around him.

"You’re so fucking smart, too," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "The way you think, the way your mind works I swear, it’s the sexiest thing about you."

His fingers threaded through yours, pinning your hand above your head as he met your gaze.

"And don’t even get me started on how kind you are," he breathed, his tone almost pained. "You care so much about everything, about everyone but you don’t even realize how easy it is to love you."

Your heart clenched.

"You are everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "So don’t you ever say you’re not enough for me again."

Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head and added,

"If anything, I should be worried about keeping up with you, gorgeous."

After some moments, you heard the click of heels approaching, and before you could even react, the door swung open.

It was none other than his ex.

Her eyes widened in pure shock, and her makeup kit slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

But Satoru?

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he smirked, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for his discarded jacket and draped it over you, shielding your exposed skin.

Then, as if this was the most casual thing in the world, he turned to her and tilted his head.

“Oh?” His grin was lazy, smug. “Didn’t see you there.”

His grip on your hips tightened possessively before he let out a soft chuckle, his tone downright mocking.

“Hope we didn’t… interrupt anything.”

His ex ran away crying, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as she bolted out of the bathroom.

Satoru barely spared her a glance.

His attention was still on you.

His smirk softened into something more genuine as he gazed down at you, his hands gently running over your waist, your thighs, as if grounding you.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your flushed cheek. “So fucking pretty… too pretty to be worrying about anyone else.”

You tried to say something, but your head was spinning, your body still trembling from everything. Words felt impossible.

Satoru chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, his expression dripping with admiration.

“Lightheaded already? Cute,” he teased, but his tone was filled with nothing but warmth.

He kissed you again slow and deep before murmuring against your lips,

“Let’s get you cleaned up, gorgeous.”

Satoru cleaned you up with a level of care that made your heart ache his usual teasing replaced with soft kisses, gentle touches, and whispered praises.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmured, smoothing down your dress and fixing your hair, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nodded, still too dazed to form actual words, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“God, I wrecked you, huh?” His smirk returned, but his touch remained soft, almost reverent.

Before you could even try to respond, he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly.

“Satoru—”

“Nope, not letting you walk,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the bathroom. “You look too fucked out to stand properly. And besides…” He grinned down at you. “Gotta make sure everyone sees you wrapped up in my jacket, looking all cute and satisfied.”

Your face burned as he carried you back into the party like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Every single head turned.

Gasps. Stares. Murmurs.

Your coworkers exchanged looks, some shocked, some amused.

And his ex?

Nowhere to be seen.

Satoru, on the other hand, was absolutely thriving. He wore his usual cocky grin, his chest puffed out like he had just won the grandest prize of all.

Which, in his eyes, he had.

Because you were his.

And he had just made damn sure everyone knew it.

And in that moment, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the warmth of his jacket and the even warmer way he looked at you

As he carried you through the party, past all the stares and whispers, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin

“You know… in this whole damn world, you’re the only one who can bring me to my knees.”

His voice was soft, but his words carried weight, filled with something undeniable.

Because Satoru Gojo the strongest, the untouchable, the man who stood above all

Would willingly fall for you, every single time.

All your insecurities melted away.

[supercimi]

This drabble is inspired by this art by @dharmaart

Old friend

The passing times and years has taught me, many lessons.

Some cruel, other kind, all the time, every time.

There was always a lesson to be taught, be it with people, places, plants and especially with animals.

Although, I wouldn't know what any of it looks like, but I learned to guess its shape. However much I could

My hands would cradle every inch. Sometimes, I would hug what I could, if simply to gauge its size.

This method proved great with people and animals, but. It was pretty useless with some plants and constructions

Flowers felt incredibly soft while trees felt incredibly harsh, but much like constructions, I couldn't make out their proper size nor shape

Also, I can't gauge how big a house is by hugging it! I'm no giant!

But, what made me the happiest, is how easy it was to picture you my friend.

Your long mane and stout back, your goofy face and lively ears.

Although we couldn't speak the same language, I got you, and I felt that you got me as well.

Learning how to care for you was pretty hard, but not harder than getting to know you.

All those puzzling brushes you needed were nothing compared to your mischief!

Whenever I would pat your back, you would simply move until I was patting your head!

And whenever I needed to pick your hoofs, you would keep pulling them back every five minutes!

My dad told me that since you learned you could pull it back from me mid grooming, there was no stopping you from that trick, and he was right!!

Still, despite all those challenges, I cared for you myself!

At first, I needed someone to guide me through it, but time after time, I slowly got the hang of it, even if I couldn't see a thing.

All my life, I lived in dimmed night, I couldn't grasp any shape no matter how the others describe it to me, even when I cradled or hugged or touched whatever they described, it was simply a vague fog to my mind,

The only thing i could picture, is you.

Maybe it was all those times i needed to brush your mane, or the many times i walked by your side on the grounds, or even the playful moments when you would roll on the ground and gently tug me to your side.

Somehow or someway.

I knew how you looked like,

I was never someone to dabble in creative stuff, especially drawing, but just for today, i decided to draw how i pictured you to be.

As hard as it proved to be, I also found out how easily you come to mind. It made the process a little easier on my clumsy hands.

Even if i never saw you, even if i can never touch you again,even if we can't play together again.

In this piece of parchment, your memories will always stay. And last but not least, thank you, old friend.

For staying with me all this time, for trotting around with me all this time, it's okay now, it's alright now.

I still can't fathom having a partner other than you, but... little by little, I'm moving on

In my heart, i still pray that someday, a maybe far away someday, or who knows maybe a very near someday?

I pray that we meet again

Maybe then, i will be able to actually see you. To play with you and hug you, to give you all the scratches that you so love.

For all eternity, but, until then.

Goodbye, old friend.

A study of a horse drawn with pencil on paper

[daceydeath]

Did You Steal Them?

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader Word Count: 1.4k Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI. explicit material

Funny how one missing item can change the whole night.

"Pretty baby hurry up we will be late for our reservation" he called as you rifled through your draw once more. You had done your hair, make up and picked out your dress but for the life of you, you couldn't find the underwear you had planned to wear. You knew you couldn't just wear another pair they would show under your dress so taking one last look in the mirror you gave yourself a once over to check that it wasn't too obvious you were going commando.

"I'm ready" you smiled trying to hide the nerves, you had never left the house without underwear and with such a short dress you were hoping everything would be alright. Hongjoong did a quick double take when he saw you step out of his bedroom and into the living area of the dorm making you flush with shyness and miss the smirk that crossed his face as he noticed how his two members looked at you before returning to what they were previously doing.

"You look gorgeous my stunning baby" He hummed stepping towards you and placing a soft kiss on your temple "shall we go?". Taking your hand in his Hongjoong led you towards the door to help you with your shoes before escorting you downstairs to the waiting car.

"So will you tell me where we are going now?" you asked taking his hand in yours to hold.

"It's a surprise baby" he sighed dramatically "this whole night is meant to be a surprise".

"I know but I'm just excited" you pouted cutely hoping to melt his resolve but he just laughed at your attempt bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

You arrived at the restaurant that provided perfect panorama views of the twinkling city lights and were swept off your feet by the private table that he had booked for you that was waiting with a bottle of champagne and a beautiful red rose that sat on the side of the table that you were to sit at. With his organization of everything all you had to do was sit, sip your wine, enjoy the view and enjoy being with your beloved boyfriend. After several glasses of wine even the food you had eaten couldn't stop the effects of the alcohol making you feel far bolder than you usually would.

"Joonie?" you giggled biting your lower lip as you watched him.

"Yes my pretty silly baby" he grinned back his sweet gummy smile not hiding the mischief that was evident in his eyes.

"Did you take something of mine before we came out?" you dragged the tip of your finger around the rim of your glass.

"What do you think that I took baby?" he chuckled watching you with darkening eyes, as he raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"I'll give you a clue....they are black and made of French lace" you whispered leaning across the table towards him.

"Are we talking about my favorite things baby?" He leaned towards you almost meeting you in the middle as though you were the most unsubtle people in the place.

"We are!" you giggled loudly your eyes bright as he played along making him lean back to laugh at you properly.

"I didn't steal your underwear" he rolled his eyes still chuckling at you.

"Well who did then?" you huffed crossing your arms dramatically "I had to go without because they were gone".

"Baby...wait...are you telling me you aren't wearing anything under that dress?" he coughed on his own saliva as you looked at him innocently the pout still sitting on your lips.

"Uhuh" you nodded picking up your glass to take the last sip of wine that remained in it.

"Shit" he breathed before waving over a waiter from the other side of the room "Can we get the bill please?".

After promptly paying and getting you back into the car as gracefully as he could you headed back to the apartment.

"Joonie?" you frowned his hand having not left your body since you left the restaurant was now holding your thigh his fingers caressing your bare skin in teasing circles that kept creeping higher. "If you didn't take them who did?". Hongjoong simply hummed not answering the question before you were distracted by a bright neon sign that you hadn't noticed previously.

The dorm was quiet when you walked inside you couldn't hear either of the other members so with an amazing lack of awareness you crept your way noisily towards Hongjoong's room trying not to giggle the entire way as he continued to occasionally steer you in the right direction around door frames and large pieces of furniture using your hips. After depositing you safely on his bed Hongjoong checked his phone and noticed that Wooyoung was doing a live that appeared to be at the company with Seonghwa and Yeosang so that left just Jongho, who he guessed was probably out with San.

"I am going to fuck you in that dress baby" he grinned wickedly unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it messily to the floor his face changing as you spread your legs to see exactly how wet you were. "Such a little slut going out with nothing but this little dress to cover you" he murmured against your calf kissing his way up your leg leaving a trail of wetness where ever his lips touched your burning skin.

"Stop teasing me Joonie" you pouted as you arched off the bed his breath fanning across your wet folds before he changed legs and kissed his way down to your other calf.

"You are the one who's teasing baby" he smiled against your skin "and I will thank whoever 'stole' your underwear".

"Hongjoong" you gasped trying to speak but failing and his fingers slid along your slit collecting your juices before spreading them and gently circling your clit. Unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants as he played with you so sweetly, he lent forward kissing the tops of your breasts and up your neck to your jawline mouthing at this skin to leave faint marks all over you.

"Who knew you were such a little whore? I wanted to fuck you right there at the table, just bend you over and show everyone how much you love my cock" he groaned feeling your hips bucking against his fingers slipping two inside you to feel how much you were already clenching for him.

"Need you inside me Joonie" you whined loudly rolling your hips to fuck yourself on his fingers.

"Oh you'll have me baby just not yet" he snickered sliding his finger out of you and sticking it in his mouth licking it clean "First I want my dessert" spreading your thighs apart further only forced your dress up your hips leaving even more of you on display but you couldn't find it in yourself to care as your boyfriend yanked you closer to the edge of the bed and sank to his knees between them. His hot breath tickled your sensitive skin as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders and licked a long hard stripe through your folds.

"Shit, Hongjoong" you mewled wantonly your fingers threading into his hair and scratching his scalp. sucking your clit between his lips he suckled on you until your thighs were shaking only changing to flicking your swollen nub when he felt you getting too close to your high "Fuck just like that, don't stop". His deep groan vibrated against your core making your moan loudly pulling his hair unconsciously.

Pulling away from your puffy lips you cried out in frustrated disappointment only to have your breath knocked out of you and Hongjoong slammed his cock inside you roughly.

"Ah...Ng" You sobbed unintelligibly coming hard around his length as soon as it kissed your cervix.

"Aw, my pretty little slut already creaming on my cock?" he mocked slamming his hips against you again setting as frenzied pace.

"Joonie" you hiccuped gripping his shoulders, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. "Oh God Hongjoong".

"Be a good girl and take it" he growled sexily, his hands gripping your hip and leg so tightly that he was going to leave you with marks for days, out your second climax sneaking up on you as making you scream his name like a prayer. He grunted his hips becoming erratic as he followed you over the edge, his thick hot seed filling you completely. Gently pulling himself from you he grabbed some tissues to clean himself up before pulling you into his arms. You laid in silence each trying to catch your breath when you noticed.

“Hongjoong…” you started your voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes baby” he hummed, kissing your temple while his hands grazed over your still buzzing skin.

“Why are my knickers hanging on the back of your door handle?”

a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies, all you likes, reblogs and comments warm my half dead heart xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @skersey33

[satsugacafe]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜̧𝐚𝐝𝐞

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hellooo love ur blog <3 can I request hcs for soul society!aizen with a reader who isnt charmed easily and is a bit skeptical of his façade?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I was originally going to turn this into a fic (even though you asked for headcanons), but I was running out of creativity juices to keep it flowing :( It just sounded like it would be a great fic.

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When you don’t fall for Aizen’s two-faced performance during his time in the Gotei 13

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა From the moment you joined the Gotei 13, you found yourself on the outskirts of every conversation involving Aizen. His reputation preceded him—calm, composed, effortlessly kind, with a voice that could soothe even the most restless souls. But something about him didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t that he was rude or ever out of place. Quite the opposite. He was too perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d seen captains and lieutenants before. They were powerful, commanding presences, many of them hardened by battle and responsibility. Yet Aizen…smiled too easily. It wasn’t that his kindness seemed forced; it was that it never wavered. No one was that consistently unshakeable. People had cracks, moments of frustration, and lapses in their carefully crafted facades. But him? Not once. And that was enough to make you wary.

˚₊‧꒰ა He noticed you watching him. Of course he did. Aizen was a man who missed nothing. But he never confronted it directly. He didn’t need to. He was too skilled at playing the game of subtlety. Instead, he’d catch your eye in meetings, offer a faint smile when your gazes met across the training grounds, and always, always address you with a tone that felt meticulously chosen.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You seem thoughtful,” he said one day, catching you in a quiet corridor after a meeting had ended. His voice was light and conversational, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made you feel like you were being measured. “Do you often get lost in your thoughts like that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You weren’t in the habit of being easily charmed by flowery words or gentle tones. You shrugged, not bothering to hide your suspicion. “Only when things don’t add up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile never faltered, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “And what, may I ask, isn’t adding up for you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You knew better than to voice your thoughts outright. Aizen wasn’t the type of man you could accuse without solid evidence. He was too clever, too calculated. So instead, you shrugged again. “That would be telling.”

˚₊‧꒰ა It wasn’t the response he was expecting, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression sharpening before he smoothed it over again. “Curious,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re not like the others.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His words hung in the air, and you knew he wasn’t talking about your combat skills or your rank within the Gotei 13. He was talking about your mind. About how you weren’t so easily swayed by his charm, how you saw the cracks in his otherwise perfect veneer.

˚₊‧꒰ა After that, he started to take a subtle interest in you. Nothing overt, nothing that would raise suspicion among your peers. But you noticed the way he seemed to gravitate toward you during group discussions, how his gaze would linger on you just a fraction longer than anyone else’s.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you not trust me?” he asked one day, his tone light and amused as if the question were a joke. But you could see the weight behind his words. He was testing you.

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t smile. “I don’t distrust you. But I also don’t trust anyone blindly.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He laughed. “A wise approach. Trust, after all, is a dangerous thing to give freely.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you could feel him trying to draw you in, to make you let your guard down. He’d offer small compliments, casual remarks about your skill or your insight. But you never gave him the reaction he was looking for.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You must think me terribly boring,” he said once, with that same faint smile. “Always so serious, always so composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. “I think you’re too composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He chuckled at that, but there was no humour in it. “And what would you have me do? Shout? Lose my temper? Would that make me more trustworthy in your eyes?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It would make you more human,” you said simply.

˚₊‧꒰ა That response seemed to catch him off guard. His smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Ah, but aren’t we all striving to rise above our baser instincts? Isn’t that what it means to be a Shinigami?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t miss the irony in his words. He spoke of control, of discipline, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested something far more dangerous beneath the surface.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, your interactions became a dance of sorts. A careful balancing act where neither of you showed your full hand. He’d make a remark, and you’d deflect. He’d offer a compliment; you’d question the intent behind it. It was a game, and you both knew it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Seireitei, “I admire your caution. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t take things at face value.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Is that so?” you replied, not bothering to hide the scepticism in your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა He smiled again, that same enigmatic smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Indeed. It’s…refreshing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite your reservations, you couldn’t deny that Aizen was fascinating. There was something undeniably enigmatic about him, something that drew people in despite themselves. But you refused to be one of those people. You refused to let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you ever wonder why people are so quick to trust?” he asked one day, his tone almost philosophical. “Why do they cling to the idea of certainty, even when it’s an illusion?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Because it’s easier,” you replied. “It’s easier to believe in someone than to question everything they say.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “And you? You prefer the harder path?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I prefer the truth,” you said firmly.

˚₊‧꒰ა His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was calculating, always calculating, but you never gave him the satisfaction of knowing what you were thinking.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you wondered if he found your scepticism amusing, or if it frustrated him. Perhaps it was both. After all, he was used to people falling in line, to people believing in his carefully crafted persona. But you? You saw through the cracks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” he mused one day, “to always be so guarded.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” you countered, “to always wear a mask.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That made him pause, and for the briefest moment, you saw something shift in his expression. But then the mask was back in place, and he offered you another one of his enigmatic smiles. “Touché.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a strange sort of mutual respect between you. He recognised your intelligence, your unwillingness to be swayed. And you recognised the danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.

˚₊‧꒰ა In another life, you might have trusted him. You might have even admired him. But in this life, you knew better. Aizen Sousuke was a man of many layers, and you had no intention of peeling them back only to find yourself ensnared in his web.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’ll never trust me, will you?” he asked one day, his tone almost wistful.

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you said without hesitation. “But I’ll respect you for what you are.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile that day was different. Softer, more genuine. But you knew better than to believe it was real. Because with Aizen, nothing ever was.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @edensrose

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think Tim and Dick would deal with going to this specific: Bar/cafe/coffee/candy shop to buy something just to have the excuse to see another customer they started crushing on after a conversation the first time they went there and at some point down the line after asking this customer s/o out, they find s/o’s stash of goodies from the place in a draw in the kitchen at s/o place and s/o walks in on this “I forgot about those in there. I needed an excuse to talk to you”?

A/N: The temptation to write a full out fic for Tim was so real. 😭😂Honestly, this is by far the cutest request I've gotten

Dick:

The original purpose of going to the animal cafe in Bludhaven with Damian was so he could get the teen off his case. For ten days, he would come and terrorize him every night in an act of revenge for all the crap he was given by the whole family for getting grounded. Yes, as the eldest sibling he shouldn't have teased him so much but come on. The teen ran around Gotham, taking down each criminal while holding the giant Bat Signal in its lit state. How could he not? 

Promising to take him there for a whole week, it was on the first day of the seven he met you and the gray rabbit who would eventually become his wingman in winning you over. Resembling Haley, it was as if the rabbit knew the two of you were meant to be when the small thing hopped from you to him, then turning his head towards you to beck you over so Dick could get guided on how to hold and properly pet him. Every day, the rabbit would do this, leading the two of you to get closer to one another where soon, it started to come as natural for him to walk up and sit next to you. 

He knew he was completely hooked as Damian had once come up and whispered with disdain how he was “ogling” you, to which he still argues he was admiring. It was what led to him to start bringing Haley to the cafe on his days-off, smiling as he always saw you with the same fluffy, gray rabbit in your lap, munching on a carrot whenever he entered the shop. All to take a chance and worm his way into your heart.

Now he’s happily living with you under the same roof. Along with becoming Haley’s other parent,  you’ve been helping him get situated with the newly adopted rabbit he saved during his last mission (though he has yet to bring up that the rabbit was actually illegally acquired and was formerly used to energize a bio weapon). 

For right now, he’s helping you find your library card, scorching the whole unit from bathroom to the living room. 

“Did you check your desk yet?”

“No, I didn’t get that far!” 

While you go through the dresser, he stands behind you and goes through your desk. Keys, notepads, paper clips, oh wait. Maybe? Pulling a card out from between your notebooks, he opens his mouth to tell you he may have found it only to stop from recognizing the logo and the date written on it. 

“Did you find it, Dick?” You ask when you don’t hear any shuffling from him for a while. 

“No. But,” he waves the card at you as you turn to face him, “I didn’t know you had a crush on me for that long.” 

His smirk stretches wider into a grin, gleefully watching your confusion and frustration merging into horror as it registers what exactly he’s holding. 

“I… completely forgot I left that there.”  Your voice barely above a whisper to which he nearly tells you it’s fine since he got you to flush from head to toe. 

Instead, he takes a step forward, his fingers gingerly wrap around your wrist before pulling you towards him. Nuzzling his cheek into your hair, he occasionally lifts his head up and presses lips on your forehead, nose, and cheeks.

“Cute”, “precious”, and “I love you”s are what he says in between each one before planting one last kiss on your lips. 

He chuckles from the random noise you make when you duck down to hide your embarrassment. Then sighs in content, words unable to express how he’s fallen head over heels for you all over again.

Tim:

The day he first met and had a crush on you was definitely a memorable one. It started as two random, sleep-deprived students standing in line at the only coffee shop closest to campus. Until he, his sleep deprived mind, and caffeine withdrawal spilled his coffee onto you as soon as he got it off the counter. Great first impression he left as you both went into full out panic, you trying to tell him it was fine while he kept apologizing and promised to, at least, pay for your drink. 

He still cringes at the moment, especially when he later found out once he was on friendlier terms with you, that you were more upset that it was your favorite shirt that had gotten ruined. Your Red Robin shirt to be exact. But now looking back, had it not happened he would’ve never gotten your number, nonetheless talked to you. It would’ve become another normal day in his life without the person who currently gives him joy in his life.

He lost track of how many times he went to that coffee shop just so he could bump and get closer to you.  For a while, coffee became his go to for caffeine when Babs had asked once why he was pouring the coffee from her coffee pot rather than drinking his usual energy drink during a Batfam meeting. 

As the saying goes, hard work pays off. Currently, he’s helping you pack so you could move to what you affectionately call his “dingy old” boat to which has upgraded to becoming somewhat habitable after you visited him more and helped organize his space and belongings. 

“Hey, did you pack your stuff in the drawers?”

He picks up the word “no” coming from the bedroom. Giving you the heads up he was going to start working there, he grabs another empty box and continues to open the drawers in the kitchen. Nothing stands out, the typical utensils organized in their respective holders until his hand nudges onto something in the very back corner that holds your silverware. 

A tiny smile dances on his lips as he pulls out and recognizes your stack of punch cards to the coffee shop the two of you now frequently go to together. You did mention you always liked that place long before the two of you dated. Never thought it was this much. Giving it a good look, he starts considering where he should place it since it was obvious that you were keeping them until the date on the very top card registers in his head. 

“Tim? What are you doing? Do you know how many times I called you-”

His fingertips matching the same red as his neck and face, he wordlessly turns towards you. Slowly your face starts turning the same color, your lips in the shape of a tiny “o” from recognizing what exactly he was holding and what mostly just occurred.  

“You… liked me?” He couldn’t manage uttering the “for that long” part out loud. Thankfully, and another reason why he loves you, you’re quick to catch on what he means as you start looking everywhere but him. 

“Y-Yeah.” It comes out so softly yet he can hear it loud and clear. “I, um, needed an excuse to see you again.” 

He doesn’t know what expression he’s making when he walks up to you. Nor did he have any thoughts in general. His head is in the clouds  right now, finding out how much he’s loved back that makes him love you even more. Adore you even more. Softly he brushes stray hair away from your face. 

“I love you.”

And he leans forward to seal his words in both your and his heart.

[lovecla]

TBH ; LUKE HUGHES

PAIR ex-luke hughes x fem!reader, auston matthews x fem!reader

SUMMARY maybe luke hughes’ passion isn’t enough. he just doesn’t know about it, yet.

WORD COUNT 1.1k

WARNINGS suggestive, jealous luke, size kink, heavily inspired by the song ‘tbh’ by partynextdoor, lowkey toxic luke, mentions of sex.

FROM ME TO YOU listen, i know i have, like, one hundred and twenty things to write but this is one of my favorite songs and i just wanted to leave this here!!! this is something super short, messy and not at all my style, but i still wanted to do something with this song. i’d recommend reading this while listening to the song ;) as always, i love you and have a nice reading!

𐙚

HE COULD’VE swear he felt it when you entered the room.

It wouldn’t be easy to explain if he tried to, but with the way the hairs on his arms stood up when you stepped into the room, he knew he was screwed.

He was sitting on the couch across the room, with a couple of people standing in front of him, as he discussed with Curtis about something he now can’t seem to remember.

“Duude.” He heard Curtis calling him, and he nodded, his perfectly styled curls moving with his head.

“Yeah?” He answered, but he didn’t bother turning around to look at his teammate. No, he couldn’t. Not when you had just entered the room with no one other than the captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs, Auston Matthews.

Luke didn’t know what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t right. He was sitting somewhere angry and frustrated as he watched the way your body seemed to float towards Auston’s. The dress you had chosen for that night would probably be in his thanksgiving speech, because he was, indeed, thankful for the opportunity to see you wearing something like that: short, white, almost transparent with a huge slit in the middle, that left little to the imagination.

He didn’t even know why he was noticing you in the first place, since he remembers how he was the one who fucked everything up between the two of you, but fuck. He can’t really help it.

The way you’re laughing at the shit Matthews’s saying, the way you blush slightly under the warm lighting whenever he touches your waist or lower back. The way Luke can tell everyone thinks how much the two of you look good together.

And it infuriates him.

But now— now, you have finally noticed him. You were scanning the room with your eyes when you made eye contact with him, dropping your smile in a millisecond. He can see the way you gulp and hold Auston’s hand a bit tighter.

Luke watches as you force yourself to draw your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you, but he feels accomplished when he notices that, once in a while, you will look at him, for nothing more than a second.

Still.

He finishes the rest of his beer, feeling the bitter taste of it fill up his mouth. He wants to scream at himself to let you go, to stop staring at you like a fucking creep, to not let his mind wander through dangerous, dangerous memories.

Yet, he does none of these things.

He just watches the way your nipples pierced the dress you were wearing, hard and there for everyone to see. He licks his lips, remembering how happy he was when you’d told him you weren’t much of a bra type of girl.

You say something to Matthews before kissing his cheek and excusing yourself, walking towards what Luke assumed to be the bathroom.

“Man,” he hears Curtis, again. “She’s not yours anymore.”

And? He wants to ask. “I know.” Is all he says.

Knowing that you aren’t his anymore doesn't stop him from getting up and going after you, leaving the beer bottle on the table sitting in the corner before walking down the expensive hallway until he’s standing at the door.

“Luke, what—” he hears you asking, but he doesn’t say anything. He just walks inside the bathroom with you and closes the door behind him, hungrily eyeing your body, as he had been doing for the past few minutes.

“Y/n,” is what he says, and you have to pretend that hearing him say your name for the first time in months doesn’t affect you. Because it shouldn’t. “I miss you.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Luke?” You hear yourself asking— you’ve fantasized about this scenario several times before and you’re still not sure of what you’re supposed to do. “You can’t just say things like that. I’m with Auston now and God,” you put your right hand on your forehead. “If anyone sees us here, together, then—”

“I can see that you’re with him,” he scoffs. “It’s all over your face. The way you look at him makes me sick.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest, not missing the way his eyes linger around your boobs for longer than they should. “Luke.”

“Does he know you used to belong to me?”

His question takes you by surprise, and you bite your lips, suppressing a frustrated moan. “If you let me end things with you because you didn’t want to make our relationship public, then why would I tell people about it? It was your choice not to.”

He knew you were right. And that made him even more upset.

“Then he doesn’t know about the things we did,” he whispers, standing tall in front of you, making you realize once again that he’s much larger than you, much bigger, much stronger. “He doesn’t know about how loud I could make you scream, how wet your pussy would get whenever you saw me, how you loved when I threw you around like you were nothing but a toy.”

“Luke—” you sigh, but he shakes his head, while pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. His touch burned.

“How when we first started dating you’d cry because you were so worried that I wouldn’t fit,” he chuckles, like the memory itself is enough to make him laugh. “And how you cried even more when I made it fit, when I forced my cock inside that tight, little cunt of yours.”

“Luke, stop,” you mumble against his finger. “You… you shouldn’t be telling me this. We’re— we’re over.”

“No, Y/n, we aren’t,” he says, kissing your cheek, gently. “I miss it when you’d lay with me, body so tiny next to mine it makes me hard just thinking about it,” he presses his finger harder against you. “I miss it, Y/n.”

You sigh, closing your eyes.

“So, tell me, baby, are you with me?”

You shake your head.

“No,” you say, even if you don’t want to. “Not anymore.”

“Y/n, fuck. I loved you.” He reasons, and you open your eyes, just to frown at him.

“Your passion, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t enough,” you answer, stepping away from his touch. “You don’t have what I need.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But that’s just how life is.”

“You’re not being honest with yourself, Y/n, you want me.” He argues, scrunching his curls in his hands.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” You ask, raising your eyebrow before turning around and leaving the room.

Leaving Luke and your history with him behind.

if you want more… ! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

LUKE HUGHES MASTERLIST.

NHL MASTERLIST.

[vortexbloom]

need a yandere phainon so much

Of course !

I already made some Yandere Headcanons for him, so I decided to write a OneShot :3

Unbound Obsession (OneShot)

Pairing: Yandere Phainon x Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessiveness, Stalking

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

Art by: @illix233 on X (Twitter)

Phainon had always admired you from afar, your beauty, your kindness, your very essence drawing him in like a moth to a flame. But admiration soon turned into something darker, something obsessive.

It all started on one fateful day when your eyes met across the room. It was innocent at first—a passing glance, a momentary connection—but to Phainon, it was a spark. It ignited a fire in his chest, a fire that could never be extinguished. He began to watch you more closely, studying your every movement, your every word. He knew where you would be, what you would do, who you would speak to.

At first, he tried to be subtle. He would show up at places you frequented, pretending it was mere coincidence. A smile here, a soft greeting there. But as time passed, his actions became more bold, more possessive. He was always there, lurking in the shadows, just a step behind you, waiting for the perfect moment to claim you as his own.

He started sending gifts—flowers, trinkets, tokens of his affection—but none of them were ever enough. You never seemed to notice, never seemed to appreciate the lengths he would go to. That only fueled his obsession. He began to track your every move, learning your routines, discovering your likes and dislikes. Each new piece of information brought him closer to the conclusion that you two were meant to be together—forever.

And then came the day when he finally confessed.

It was a quiet evening, the world outside shrouded in darkness, the air thick with tension. He had orchestrated the perfect moment, knowing they would be alone. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing as Phainon stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

"I’ve been watching you," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "I’ve been waiting for you to realize that we belong together. No one else matters. Just you and me."

Your heart raced, a chill creeping up you spine as you took a step back. But Phainon was quick, grabbing your wrist, his grip tight, unyielding.

"You don’t have to be afraid," he murmured, his lips curling into a smile that sent shivers down your spine. "I’ll make sure no one can take you from me. You’ll never leave my side."

His words were both a promise and a threat, a chilling combination that sent a cold sweat down your neck. But Phainon didn’t care. In his mind, this was fate. This was the way things were meant to be. And nothing—nothing—would stand in his way.

From that day forward, you would never be free again. Phainon’s obsession consumed him entirely. His love was suffocating, possessive, and there was no escaping it. He was always watching, always waiting, and no matter how much you tried to run, Phainon would always find a way to bring you back into his twisted, unrelenting embrace.

Because, to him, there was no other choice. You were his. Forever

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[bones4thecats]

Hello, can do resquest, Poseidon, Hades, Loki and Thor x Valkyrie reader, who is the mother of all Valkyries, This is what it looks like, https://es.pinterest.com/pin/890657263798502008/

❥· Nurture vs. Nature, Multi-RoR × F! S/O

Characters: Poseidon (🔱), Hades (💀), Loki (🐍), and Thor (🌩️) A/N: This is another favorite of mine. I love this thing so much, and I hope you like it as well, @zinnia1506! ✎ Summary: After the loss of your adoptive son, Zerofuku, you made your thirteen daughters, whom were named after your title of the 13 Valkyrie Sisters. But, after the setting of Ragnarok, your relationship molds over with hatred with your oldest.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

Looking at the sky with an empty expression, you took each breath in slowly. You felt empty, incomplete, someone would say. But, in reality, you felt normal. This was your normal.

Each cloud moved by with each passing second. While other Gods and Goddesses would see this as useless, this was the only thing you wanted to do for your pass-time. It was quiet, peaceful.

Small footsteps behind you made your eyes open, there, standing behind you, was the young God you were in charge of watching. "Zero. Do show me, how would you draw that flower?" You asked. The young, child-like god, smiled and grabbed some nearby flowers, using them like crayons on the paper you summoned for him.

"This is how you do it, Lady Valkyrie!" He joyfully said. You watched as he used the flowers to color the pink petals, before searching for a green item for the stem and leaves. As he ran around, your eyes shimmered. For some reason, being around Zerofuku made your life feel more welcoming, open even.

Before you knew it, Zerofuku handed you the paper. You took it in your hands gently and looked over his work. Every detail was there, which surprised you. The way he highlighted the sun's rays hitting the petals to the shadows cast in opposition made your eyes widen slightly.

You breathed out and smiled gently, though it was covered by your mask. Zeroufku felt your mood lighten and he began to shake in happiness himself. "Do you like it?" He asked. "Of course. You did a wondrous job on it, child."

"Thank you!" He replied. "Would you like it back? I'm sure it would be a lovely addition in your home." You said. Zerofuku looked at you and shook his head, pushing the drawing back into your chest. "No. Go ahead and keep it! Besides, you seem to like it more than I do!"

That was when you knew it. You wanted to feel this all the time. So, you began babysitting Zerofuku more and more. But, you regretted the one day you didn't. That was the day he went to Earth and never returned.

Tears fell from your eyes as you sobbed at the same spot as you were that day. You never wanted this feeling again... you needed to find a way around this...

-

🔱 You looked at the aquatic animals swimming around. The blow-fish looked at your finger, following it as you lightly drug it across the glass keeping you separated. Poseidon observed you from behind, his trident on the ground as you observed the fish.

🔱 Poseidon sighed internally and walked up to you, and, once you heard the sound of his weapon, your branch-shaped hair moved slightly, much like the ears of an animal. You turned around and looked into the blue eyes of your husband.

🔱 "What did Zeus do this time?" You asked. He shook his head, "This was not Zeus' doing. Rather, it was your oldest, Brunhilde's." You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you questioned what he meant. After all, Brunhilde didn't speak out against the Gods that often. It was always with you when she did it.

🔱 "She declared Ragnarok. Zeus accepted and is currently scrolling through the nominees for the Gods' Team." He replied, eyes watching the octopus Göll, your youngest, affectionately named Ink. "She opposed the Gods and is fighting for Humanity, isn't she?"

🔱 "Yes." He said. Your eyes went to the floor. This was not something you wanted to happen. For years, you raised those girls to help the Gods. NOT help the humans. The humans that tore your once-beloved son from you.

🔱 "I would like to fight." Poseidon's eyes widened slightly, looking down at you with his grip tightening on his trident. "No. I will not allow it."

🔱 "Poseidon, it is my choice. I'm not fighting for the honor of the others, but for the honor of my son." You said, eyes darkening in anger. "Zeus already asked me to fight in Ragnarok. I will be taking your place. No matter the outcome, the girls will need you. Our boys will need you." He said, motioning to your five sons, Polyphemus, Triton, Orion, Theseus, and Aeolus, running around happily, unaware of the chat between their parents.

🔱 You looked back to the ground, sorrow filling your form. In the action of making your thirteen daughters out of enchanted clay, you wanted to feel the love you felt for Zerofuku, but, Brunhilde threw that away. Like a rag used up.

🔱 Just as Poseidon began walking away to grab your sons to bring inside, you grabbed his loincloth-like fabric around his waist and said, "Please. Just, don't hurt any of the girls." He looked into your eyes, blue into blue, and blinked.

🔱 "Alright." He said, leaning in and kissing your head, in a way to comfort you in this mind-racing time. "The boys and I will be inside soon."

-

💀 Your husband sat beside you in your bedroom. Tears were falling from your eyes silently. That day was horrible. You declared you weren't going to speak to your daughters until Ragnarok was over, saying you needed time to even out your situation during the battle. Hades, your husband, patted your back through everything.

💀 A letter had been delivered by Hermes to you from Brunhilde. In this letter, she declared she, and her sisters -- your other daughters -- would be performing Völundr with their assigned human fighters. You were in distress, you already lost your son, how could you lose your daughters too?!

💀 Hades leaned his head on yours, silently helping you. He could hear the first round of Ragnarok playing in the background on your holographic-television. It was when it was over, that you both heard the announcement of Lü Bu, the first human fighter, dying.

💀 The God of the Underworld's eyes widened in surprise, not at the fact that the human died, but at the fact that one of his step-daughters, that he loved just as much as you did, sacrificed herself for humanity. Were they really that amazing?

💀 "No... Randgriz... my baby..." You sobbed harder now, tears falling heavily as your hands covered your eyes. Hades' eyes began to water now. Randgriz was one of his favorite step-daughters. He loved the light and love she brought to the Underworld, to his life, and the way that she cared for everyone, no exceptions.

💀 A knock on the door alerted you, but, you made no effort to move. Hades, who wasn't crying nearly as hard as you were, stood up and answered. "Who is it?" He asked.

💀 "Papa?" A little voice said. Looking down, there stood your youngest child, Zagreus. He looked up with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. "Is Randgriz okay?"

💀 You ran up to Zagreus, and enveloped him in a hug. Zagreus, who was surprisingly smart for a child of his age, hugged you back, understanding what was happening now.

💀 Hades frowned and kneeled in front of your both, wrapped his arms around you two and began to cry. Your sniffs pained him, as did his son's. You made those girls to help with your emotions, to keep your happiness around. Yet, you neglected the thought of losing them like how you did Zerofuku. You protected them for years, and, despite all your effort, you were losing them all over again.

-

🐍 Loki knew your daughters well. He was around, what a human would say 20s, in age when they were sculpted by your hands by enchanted clay. You asked if he could watch over them for years when you were busy, and he did so pretty well. Sometimes, it felt like your daughters were babysitting him though.

🐍 You observed as Loki played with your three children, your daughter, Hel, and your two sons, Fenrir and Jörmungandr. Loki danced around them, Fenrir shapeshifted into his single form; a large wolf, while your other son became his only form; a large serpent. Hel just wrapped her arms around her father's neck as he flew around, playing tag with them.

🐍 "Come on, Dad! You're going to high up!" Fenrir called. Loki merely laughed and told them to try harder in catching him. Jörmungandr looked at you and silently asked for help. You smiled gently and called for your husband, making him freeze and call back to you.

🐍 Just then, your sons tackled Loki, making him yell and fall down to the ground. "Gotcha!" The boy-turned-serpent yelled. You kept a smile up, but it vanished when you heard your husband's name being called from behind you.

🐍 Loki looked up and put his daughter on the ground next to her brothers. "Let me guess, little old me is up next?" He asked Thor, who was tasked by his father, Odin, to retrieve his cousin. "Yes."

🐍 Thor looked at you and nodded back to you after you motioned for him to take your three kids away. They happily jumped with Thor, on their way to sit with their Grandpa and their Uncle. You then looked at Loki and then down at the ground, asking him if he was sure about doing this. "After all," you added, "Poseidon, Heracles, Hajun, Hades, hell, even Susano'o No Mikoto now... what if you're next?"

🐍 "Love. I know you lost five of the girls, but, believe me when I say this: I will make sure I get back to you, and... hopefully keep whatever Valkyrie chosen alive." He said, his hands holding your face as he stares into your eyes.

🐍 "I'll come back." He said. "I love you."

🐍 You smiled and kissed him, he hummed happily before taking your hand and walking with you back to his room to get ready for his round.

-

🌩️ Thor cared for your daughters. He was someone you cared for deeply, and, since he wasn't biologically related to them, it comforted you that he still put effort into acting like a father. Your emotions actually came out with him, and it did make your girls proud when you married Thor and not someone like Zeus.

🌩️ You've been married for years, and for those years, he and you parented Móði and Magni, your twin boys. As you raised your two biological children, Brunhilde began to separate herself from you, leaving you feeling a hole again. And, with no other ideas, you tried to connect with her again, only to be shocked when she told you she didn't want contact again.

🌩️ Odin told you it was most likely due to 'teenage-angst', but, after hearing she proposed Ragnarok, you were heartbroken once again. You looked at her, and, when she eyes connected with yours coldly, you leaned your head onto Thor's shoulder.

🌩️ You stayed with Thor the entire time, only being away from him due to the first round. And, after it was over, you tried talking to Brunhilde, only for her to ask if you were happy with yourself.

🌩️ "What are you talking about, Brunhilde?" You replied. "You know what I'm talking about! Your husband! He just killed your own daughter! How can you pick him over us?!"

🌩️ "I'm not picking him over you, 'Hilde! Do I have to spell it out?! I made you all because I wanted you guys! I wanted children to call my own!" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. We're nothing but animated clay to you. You were never, and will never be my mother."

🌩️ Your eyes widened in shock as Brunhilde walked away. Shock was all you felt. After everything you gave her; your time, your care, you love, and she just says it was all nothing to you. Your boys just stood beside you, also shocked. You were an excellent mom, they've seen the photos and videos of you raising your girls. Why was she hating you so much?

🌩️ "Fine... have a good rest of the tournament, Brunhilde." You said, walking away with your boys trailing you. Thor, who was watching from behind a nearby pillar, was upset. He saw you care for Brunhilde and your daughters, you just struggled expressing emotions when it comes to loss. How does she not, in her millions of life with you, understand that?

🌩️ "Brunhilde." He said, causing the eldest Valkyrie to turn around and look at her step-father. "What?" She replied. "You've wanted to know why your mother made you, correct?"

🌩️ "Yes."

🌩️ "I think it's time I tell you."

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Valentine’s Day Fic - First Preview

Have a sneak peak! Warning for minor sexting 😉

Ring ring ring

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you walked along the streets of Hell. Pulling it out, you saw Lucifer's adorable rubber duck icon pop up on the screen. You smiled and hit the answer button.

"Hey Luci, what's going on?" you answered cheerfully.

"Oh, you know, just waiting for my darling to return home to me," he sighed dramatically on the other side of the phone.

"Hon, it's only been an hour!" you scolded playfully. "I had to pick out something special for tomorrow, you know."

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day; one of Lucifer's favorite mortal holidays. The chocolates, the flowers, the romantic setting, everything about it excited the little devil! And of course he always treated you to a special candlelit dinner, complete with dessert and champaign. But you knew Lucifer always looked forward to the end of the night; that time he gets to worship you as the goddess he sees you as.

This year, however, you decided you wanted to spice things up a bit. Which is why you made it a point to visit the Entertainment District which housed the best collection of sex apparel in the pride ring. Lucifer insisted on giving you anything you wanted, but new lingerie wasn't all that you were looking for; some new toys were definitely needed. It took a while to convince him since you knew he didn't like being left alone for too long, but you promised him that you would be as quick as you could. Nevertheless, that didn't seem to stop him from calling you up after only a short amount of time.

"I knoooowwwww," Lucifer groaned on the other end. "But is there any way I can convince you to come home sooner?"

His proposition intrigued you, so you decided to play along. "And how would you do that, I wonder."

You swear you could almost hear him smile. "Well, my dear, since you got to go out and look for a special outfit, I thought I would try my hand at creating one just for me! Gotta say, I'm pretty happy with it! Tight in all the right places!" You heard the static-filled snap of the fabric hit his skin as he spoke.

"Wait," you paused, moving yourself up against a building. "Are you wearing it right now?" He was doing this on purpose, you knew he was. He knew how to tempt you. And picturing Lucifer in something less than decent did nothing to help keep your composure out in public. You could already feel the heat in your face begin to rise.

Lucifer chuckled lightly. "Would you like a sneak peak, love?" Before you could answer, there was a buzzing on your phone. He already had a picture queued up just to tease you. You opened the message with a gasp, fumbling your phone in your hands. The picture showed of his exposed stomach with the rest of his body covered in a lovely black. It looked as though he shot this photo from the waist up because you could make out his forked tongue that was sticking out through his sharpened teeth, smiling wickedly at the camera.

Quickly, you closed the picture hoping know one else had seen what was on your screen. "You ass, I almost dropped my phone!"

"Hey, you're the one who opened it!" he shot back. "But I can tell you like it, isn't that right?"

He was right, of course he was! How could you not! But he was getting too cocky for his own good. If he wanted to be a brat today, you had no trouble giving him exactly what he wanted. Even if it meant cutting your outing a little bit short. You were going to surprise him with his favorite chocolate candies, but perhaps you could get them after you taught him a lesson.

"I'll be home in 15 minutes," you responded in a hushed tone, trying your best not to draw the attention of others. "If you aren't handcuffed to that bed by the time I'm back, you're gonna be in for it."

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Lucifer murmured, sending shivers down your spine. What a fucking tease, but God, did you love him.

“You have 14 minutes now,” was all you said before hanging up the phone as you pushed yourself away from the wall and began to walk back towards the Morningstar mansion, paying no attention to the onlookers who noticed your brisk pace as you passed them. There was someone who needed to be put in his place.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel remained where he was topside for the time being, looking through the rain and towards the steadily vanishing Skellige Islands, much smaller in appearance by now. He kept his heightened senses pealed for any signs of sea monsters... even unrelated to their reasons for being here, they were liable to encounter some. Possibly even influenced by the Leviathan or the Great Old One beneath Darkwater Island. He wouldn't put anything as being outside of its ability. There was still the possibility, likelihood, of the involvement of the Deep Ones. As they sailed, it wasn't long before the crew began to sing old, bawdy nautical and whaling tunes as they worked, the Witcher's marred visage smirking at the lyrics and humming along to himself. His instincts told him the crew wasn't likely part of the cult... but he wasn't about to write them off, as yet. He'd survived his share of nasty surprises as it were. Never underestimated anybody. The world was full of capable actors. At some point in the voyage, his medallion hummed... and he believed it came from the book she had taken earlier, opening it. Soon after, he sensed her joining him up on the deck, smelling her perfume over the salty sea air, his viper eyes looking back to find the rain soaked, crimson haired, pale Sorceress drawing near. The evident troubled look on her face she was trying and failing to disguise as she moved to his side and joined him at the railing. His deep, calm voice spoke up to her again at last, starting to assess her state... the likely cause he had been suspecting.

"Nautical tunes keeping you awake, red? The rain and waves? Or the voices of the Great Old Ones? You might not want to talk about it, but you don't have to. I am something of an occult detective. Can piece clues together. I warned you about exposing yourself too much to that book. Or any artifacts and creations of cosmic abominations, imbued with their dark power. Much less even speaking the R'lyehian language aloud. Trust me, as a Witcher I'm more curious about all those things than you ever were... the knowledge of the universe and its entities, the power in them... but you have to know when to walk away from them, before it's too late. That's the key to beating them. Deny them a hold upon you."

The Witcher at last turned his viper eyes from her and out towards the sea, towards the thickening, ominous mist rising in the distance, darkness of night almost fully upon them, the clouds obscuring the stars. They couldn't yet make out Darkwater Island anywhere... but there would be time enough for that yet. He only hoped they didn't get impeded by any Krakens or Sea Dragons... there could be no further delays to reaching Darkwater Island and the lost city of R'lyeh... the cult had enough of a head start as it were. Unless they were specifically waiting for him and Sabrina... given all the work she had been doing with the book they were now in possession of. Perhaps she was part of this, now. Either way, it was evident by now how much trouble awaited them on the island. He would have to keep an eye on her no less than he was everyone else... lest the Great Old Ones influence prove their undoing. Already he knew this was liable to be a case to put the others of his long life to shame... certainly in terms of scale and danger... the entire world and perhaps beyond at risk, here. He'd almost welcome the Second Conjunction of the Spheres by comparison, at least with that they would stand a chance when it came to pass. With that in mind, he went on as before, low tone serious yet placid. Making her aware of the gravity of the situation they were in. Settling a hand on top of hers on the railing, gripping it tightly, knowing she felt the magic emanating from his touch.

"A little at a time, the more of their knowledge you consume, the more of it you desire, and the more sanity is stolen from you. You become susceptible to their influence and corruption. End up a husk with an appetite and a shadow of your former self. A slave of their will, like these cultists. The closer we are to their so called God, the more at risk you are. You've always been too smart for your own good... and it's time you learned the difference between intelligence and wisdom. The Necronomicon must be destroyed. There are others like it out there, but you have bonded to this one. Even now it beckons to you from afar... as its slumbering master does. In your dreams and waking hours alike. The High Priest of the Great Old Ones. The call of Cthulhu reaches out to you."

@fallesto

The bed was surprisingly comfortable, with plush pillows and a thick wool blanket that smelled faintly of the sea. She sank into it gratefully, feeling the tension in her muscles slowly melt away. For a moment, she allowed herself to just breathe, listening to the rhythm of the rain and the rocking of the ship. It had been days since she'd slept in anything but a hard, cold dirt, and this felt like a small piece of heaven. But she couldn't indulge for long. With a groan, she pushed herself into a sitting position and pulled out the book from her bag. The leather was damp, the pages sticking together slightly, but the inked words remained clear. She flipped through them, her eyes searching for a hint, a clue, anything that might help them destroy the book she lost without unleashing the chaos it contained. Her eyes widened as she found a page with an incantation scribbled in the margins, written in a language she knew, but doubted others knew. It was like nothing anyone had studied, ancient and powerful and she had kept a separate book of research.

Her heart racing, she leaned closer, whispering the words aloud. They tasted foreign on her tongue, but she felt a strange resonance within her, as if the very air around her was vibrating in response. 

“I’ll make them pay.”

The pain in her head grew more intense, but she gritted her teeth and continued, knowing she was onto something vital. The words grew louder in her mind, drowning out the sounds of the storm outside. It was as if the book itself was urging her on, whispering the incantation to her soul. As she quickly snapped it closed, and put it away, she could feel it all around her then, the power, the magic, the curses, the spells, it was all here, this ship then, the crew, are not what they seem to be.

She took a deep breath, got herself up off the bed, and walked across the cabin floor. After moving to the door, she opened it and stepped outside into the darkness. She was hit by the smell of the sea—salt and the stench of rotten wood. As she scanned her surroundings, the ship's crew loomed in the back of her mind. Having read her copy of the book and reviewed her research notes, she considered that these people were not truly human; they were either cultists or something else pretending to be human. Perhaps they were under some powerful magic or curse—she wasn't entirely sure.

However, she understood she had walked into the lion's den by getting on this ship.

She glanced around, searching for him. She found him leaning over the edge, staring down at the crashing waves. She didn’t need to say anything; he would know anyway. He was one of the best at what he did, and he understood the danger posed by the people around her. They might not even make it to their destination before something awful happened. If that were the case, they would have to find a way to fight, as they always did.

Her head still hurt, and memories of her past flooded back—horrible mistakes she had made long ago. The book she had found years ago only amplified her regrets. Now, those mistakes were in the hands of someone else, someone cold, and they were about to unleash something terrible. The crew around her were not human, and she knew he realized that as well; it was just a matter of figuring out how they would deal with them.