#took up the damn word limit for this post. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarverse · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class.

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit.

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking.

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses.

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart.

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him.

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes.

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty.

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut.

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now?

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them.

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top.

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out.

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?”

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother.

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,”

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights.

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home.

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat.

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?”

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him.

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

“You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about.

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times.

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment.

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

3K notes · View notes

starmocha · 7 months ago

Text

would you still love me if i was a worm? (and other thought-provoking questions) [Sylus/Reader ★ 2100 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] In which Sylus answers many meaningful drunken questions at 2 AM. A/N: Why have I been clowning on this man 🗿 lowkey based on this post I made before his release lol

It was rather common for Sylus to be up at 2 AM, since in his particular line of work, businesses were best done in the dead of night when most people would be asleep. It didn’t help that the N109 Zone was shrouded in eternal darkness at all times, so the entire concept of time felt rather meaningless to most citizens.

What truly was uncommon for Sylus was receiving a call from you at this time in the middle of the night when you should be slumbering away like most normal citizens. He stared at his phone screen where “Kitten” was so affectionately featured prominently onscreen along with his favorite photo of you. He swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the curious call. Nothing, however, could have prepared the leader of Onychinus with your desperate plea: “Crow Man, come pick me up, pleasssseeee!”

Sylus raised a brow as he held his cellphone tighter in his hand. “Crow Man?”

“Is this not Ca-Caw Man?”

“…are you drunk, sweetie?”

“Mr. Big Ca-Cawk, please pick me upppp!”

Sylus set his phone down on his desk and leaned back in his seat, already massaging his temple in slow circles. He had lavished you with such sweet pet names, and in your darling little head, you had just affectionately bestowed upon him the nickname��Big Ca-Cawk.

Sylus inhaled sharply.

He knew he let you get away with a lot of mischievous things, but perhaps this might be the one time he needed to put his foot down. He held his phone next to his ear again, hearing you sniffled:

“Caw-Caw, do you not like me anymore?”

Damn. You were good.

Sylus huffed softly, finding your drunken speech pattern rather endearing now. With a soft smile on his face, he spoke low, “Far from the truth, sweetie. Now, give me your address.”

You relayed to him the address of a late-night restaurant you were at in Linkon City.

“Stay safe,” Sylus responded, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

The call ended and Sylus heaved another heavy sigh before he stood up. He walked pass where Mephisto was roosting on his perch, and Sylus mumbled thoughtfully to the mechanical crow, “Maybe I should just assign you to monitor her 24/7 from now on.”

Mephisto tilted his head to the side, clearly confused by his owner’s odd words. He cooed quietly in response, watching as Sylus left.

With no speed limit in the N109 Zone, Sylus breezed through the city on his motorcycle in a matter of less than fifteen minutes. Through Linkon City, the street was mostly vacant, and he managed to avoid many of the cop hiding spots. It took him roughly another ten minutes to finally pulled up to the restaurant you said you were at.

As he parked his motorcycle, he took his helmet off, eyes instantly narrowing in anger when he noticed you were backed into a wall by a couple of sober sleazebags. Sylus started to walk up to you, his temper flaring when he heard your feeble protests:

“No…I don’t like this. Go away...”

“Aww, come on, sweetcheeks, you look like you could use a rest at a motel with us.”

“Yeah, it’d be in bad conscious of us if we leave a cute girl like you hanging around on the street like this—”

Sylus had heard enough. His hand tightened into a fist, and thick, dark tendrils wrapped around the two men’s necks, easily lifting them up and sending them hurtling down the block. When they gotten up, ready to assault their attacker, they were instantly frozen with fear from just a simple sharp glare from Sylus. He merely snapped his fingers and new tendrils shot straight down the block at the two men, the sight enough to send them running away in terror.

How fortunate for them. Sylus had other important things on his mind this particular night, or otherwise, he would have felt no qualms with ridding the world of two lowlifes.

When Sylus turned to look at you, his gaze softened considerably, a look of exasperation settled on his handsome features. He approached you slowly, his voice soft and gentle, “Sweetheart…”

His eyes widened in shock when you flung yourself against him, arms wrapped around his waist tightly. You sniffled softly, “Sy-Sy…”

Sylus regained his composure and he smiled down at your head, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “So I am Sy-Sy now?”

He waited for you to calm down, speaking gentle, comforting words to ease your fears. When he noticed you appeared calmer, he led you to where he had parked. After handing you a helmet, he made sure your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist again before he took off, heading to your apartment.

Once he had arrived to your apartment building, he led you upstairs to your floor. He watched in amusement as you attempted to open the door, unable to get your thumb aligned correctly with the biometrics.

“Here,” he murmured, grabbing your wrist and guiding your thumb to match up with the small screen.

There was a click.

The door opened.

You stared in absolute awe. “Sy-Sy is so amazing…”

Sylus chuckled as he led you inside. “Sweetie, how much did you drink tonight?”

You shrugged. “It was Tara’s birthday…and it was our 5000th wanderer kill…and it was also pay day…and—”

Sylus immediately cut you off, laughing. “I get it,” he said, leading you to your bathroom to help you wash up, “You had a lot to celebrate today.”

He watched you smiled happily as you splashed some cooling water on your face. He helped you removed your jewelry before leading you to your bedroom. Sylus crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed you up and down in your black bodycon dress.

“Now, while I do appreciate seeing you in this dress,” he said with a teasing lecherous smirk, “I don’t think it’ll be comfortable to wear to bed, right?”

You giggled. “Nope!”

Sylus’ eyes widened, completely unprepared when you decided to shamelessly take the dress off yourself and flung it at a chair in your room. You smiled sweetly at him as you stood there in just your bra and panties.

Sylus covered his face, groaning softly. “This girl…” He took another look at you happily smiling away at him with not a single sober thought in your head. He turned away, mumbling, “Stay put.”

He sighed and walked into your closet, muttering to himself as he searched for some sleepwear for you, “You suck at drinking, sweetheart, and yet you let yourself get this drunk…”

After spending about five minutes of searching for some decent sleepwear, Sylus came back out to find you on the bed laying on your side, half-asleep. Sylus sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on, sweetie, as cute as you look like that, you need to get dressed.”

You mumbled sleepily, and Sylus took it upon himself to help you get dressed in an oversized shirt and some shorts. This task felt rather foreign to him, since he was honestly more used to doing the complete opposite. As if reading his mind, you fell against him giggling again once you were fully dressed. “Are you going to take my bra off, too, Sy-Sy?”

He groaned again, his brain about to explode. “Sweetie, you are testing me.”

You giggled again and batted your eyelashes at him.

He smirked, slipping his hands under your shirt from behind and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side with your earlier abandoned dress. “It’s a good thing I am such a gentleman who doesn’t like taking advantage of intoxicated women.”

“Sy-Sy is the sweetest,” you agreed solemnly. You leaned up and clumsily kissed him, catching him off-guard for just a few seconds before he chuckled against the kiss, pecking your lips lightly. He pulled away first, amused when he saw your look of disappointment at how quickly the kiss ended.

Sylus pinched your cheek, eliciting a pained yelp that stirred you fully awake. “Next time, you are not allowed to get yourself drunk without me around,” he scolded you firmly, though his facial expression was more gentle than angry.

“But it was pay day…”

One sharp look from Sylus had you clamming up. When he turned away, you let out a soft whine, “Wait…are you leaving me?”

He turned back just in time to see a pout forming on your face. He sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, giving you a slow shake of his head. He knew he was coddling you too much tonight, but he couldn’t bear to leave you alone in such a disoriented state. “Of course not, sweetie,” he answered with a smile, “I’m just going to turn off the lights.”

Once the lights were out, Sylus made his way back over to the bed. He chuckled in amusement as you scooted to the center, giving the empty space next to you an enthusiastic pat. Sylus climbed into bed, happy when you cuddled up to him.

“Caw-Caw, I have a question…”

“So it’s Caw-Caw again?” he asked bemused, and then muttered more to himself, “I think I’d rather you call me Sy-Sy instead… What is it, sweetie?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Sweetie, I would feed you to Mephisto,” he answered, not missing a single beat.

“Noooo…” you whined at him with tears brimming in your eyes. You weakly pawed at his arm with little fists, pleading, “Don’t feed me to Mephie…”

“Mephie?” he laughed, astonished that now you had taken the liberty of nicknaming his mechanical crow.

“I won’t taste good,” you insisted with a sweet pout.

“Personally, I think you taste divine,” Sylus teased with the double-entendre, but in your drunken state, you didn’t catch the double meaning. You could only sniffle sadly at him. He rubbed your cheek affectionately with the back of his hand, his crimson eyes seemed so bright in the darkness.

“Sy-Sy…”

“Hmm?” Sylus propped himself up on his elbow, his chin cradled in his hand as he peered down at you snuggled up close to him again.

“Where does the light go when you close the fridge door?”

“Drunk you is just full of silly questions, huh?”

You continued, not caring that he didn’t give you an actual answer to your previous inquiry, “Why do we make round pizza, put it in a square box, just to eat it as a triangle?”

Sylus blinked, sighing, feeling at a complete loss for words. “When you are sober, I’ll make sure to look up the answer for you, sweetie.”

“Sy-Sy?”

“What now?”

“Life is soup.”

Sylus raised his brow in complete confusion, not understanding a single damn word out of your mouth now. He didn’t even know how to respond to the odd comment, so he just continued to stare at you, hoping for a follow-up.

“And I am a fork.”

Sylus pulled you into his arms, laying on his back with you on top of him. “Alright, sweetie, it’s time for bed now.”

You giggled, rubbing your face against his soft shirt, inhaling deeply the faint scent of cologne on him. You sighed happily, smelling the familiar comforting, warm and woodsy fragrance on him. “Would you…” You yawned and rubbed your drowsy eyes, “love me if I shrink down to the size of your thumb?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll just have to keep you safe in my pocket.” Sylus brushed the flyaway hair away from your face, his expression tender as he gazed at your sweet, sleepy face resting on top of his chest. Even though he knew by morning, you wouldn’t remember a single thing from this night, Sylus still couldn’t help but voiced his thoughts and feelings aloud.

“I adore you,” he said, hushed, the weight of his words hung heavy in the stillness of the bedroom, “More than you will ever know.”

You yawned again, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “I love you, too, Mr. Big Ca-Cawk.”

Sylus could do nothing but laughed resignedly, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close to his body, the soft warmth of you against him was calming. Sylus felt a strange mixture of both happiness and bemusement by your drunk words, knowing your intoxicated state was also your most honest side, revealing to him the depths of your feelings for him. He kissed the top of your head, letting his eyes closed to rest as well, as he murmured, “Sweet dreams, you silly girl.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #x — fanfics #🥹#sylus will always be big ca-cawk in my heart of hearts #💕

2K notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

Such A Mystery - Part 8

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

Sadly, Max didn’t get to push George Russell of the track. Instead he accidentally hit Oscar in the first corner, which definitely hadn’t been on purpose…and also resulted in another penalty point and a 10 second penalty.

He was really done with this season.

At the same time, Charles carved his way up from P19 to P2 in which, what Max was pretty sure, could only be described as going on the warpath. Max was honestly just impressed at the speed with which Charles had managed to claw himself up to P2, and he would have applauded the effort if he hadn’t been so damn frustrated with everything else.

At this point, he just wanted to get the race done and over with and go home. He'd have time to worry about the penalty later - he just wanted to get this race over the finish line so that he could get a flight to Monaco and to Colette.

With that thought in mind, the last 12 laps went by in a blur, and it felt like no time at all until the checkered flag appeared.

For the first time all season, Max didn’t bother trying to push beyond the limit for an extra few seconds of time.Because quite frankly, it didn’t actually matter.

McLaren had gotten the constructor championship for the first time in 26 years.

"t may not have been the fastest race but I just wanted to say a big thank you for the season, guys. It hasn’t been easy at times, we still have quite a few things to improve on but we still won a world championship. So, thank you for all the hard work the whole year," Max said into the radio. "Enjoy your time off and then we’ll go back at it again next year. Thank you, guys."

And now Max finally got to go home to Colette.

GP's voice came over the radio. "Get weighed and then we need you to come into the garage as quickly as possible, Max."

Max furrowed his brows at the words. That was…odd. Why would he need to go to the garage immediately?

"Is everything alright?" he demanded.

GP didn’t answer immediately, which did nothing to diminish Max’s worry.

His heart skipped a beat when the engineer finally responded, hesitantly. “Just come to the garage, please. Quickly.”He had wanted to apologise to Oscar about their incident in the first corner at the start, but that was quickly forgotten, at the tone in GP's voice.

It sounded alarmed and anxious, and that got Max's heart racing. Something was wrong, something was wrong, and he needed to get to the garage to find out what it was.

It took him an incredible amount of self-restraint not to outright bolt out of the car and charge into the garage, but he somehow managed to get out of the car, weighed himself in and all but dashed towards the garage.

"GP?!" he called out as he stormed into the garage. "What the hell is going on? What’s wrong? Why-"

GP was the one who dragged him into one of the side rooms, where no cameras would see the exchange that followed. There was Christian waiting, as well as his father.

This wasn't good.

The sight was alarming enough to make him freeze. His heart seemed to skip a beat.

"I-” Max cut himself off, staring at the three men. "What- what's going on?"

"Colette is in labour," Christian answered. "Her brother Arthur texted me. Your pilot filed flight plans thirty minutes ago. There is a car waiting to take you to the airport."

For a moment, Max’s brain just froze altogether, his thoughts screeching to a halt.

His vision wavered as the words echoed in his head, and he had to reach out and grab a hold of the wall next to him as his legs tried to buckle.

He couldn’t have read those words right. There was no way - she had four more weeks. They had more time, Colette couldn’t be in labour.

But it was GP's voice that was cutting through the fog in his head. “Max. Are you with us?”

Max had to take a deep breath, forcing his mind into action.

"Yeah," he heard himself croak out. The only thought in his mind was that he had to get to the airport. He had to get home as fast as he possibly could.

“We need to get Charles," he demanded. “I don’t care how you do it. I’ll pay whatever ridiculous fine the FIA demands. But if he finds out I left without him, he’s going to kill me.”

There was no doubt about that.

Max was dimly aware that all three men were looking at him with varying levels of sympathy - but he didn’t care. He only had one thought in his mind, and that was getting to Colette as soon as goddamn possible.

"Gemma is getting him right now," Christian promised him. "I already talked with Ferrari...or screamed at them, that is more likely. So did Arthur apparently. I need to warn you though, the press is swarming outside, especially after your father's little interview," he said darkly.

"What interview?" Max asked, staring at his father. What interview were they talking about?!

"I talked to Sky News about your anger issues," his father said drily.

"Correction," GP snapped. "You told Sky News that Colette and Max are a couple and that their baby is due any day."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and they were like a punch to the gut. His father had done what?

"You told the damn media she’s having our baby?" he exclaimed, staring at the older man. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"

"No, I merely said it’s due any day," Jos snapped. "Not that it's actually on the way. Calm down, I only said it because you need to stop denying that you two are an item, it’s getting ridiculous!"

Max honestly didn’t even know how to react to the words. Normally, he would’ve been furious right now. His father had just gone and announced their private life to the entire world. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fact that Colette was currently in labour…

"He also said and I quote It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough!" GP snapped, looking and sounding more furious than Max had ever seen him before.

For a moment, Max almost choked and he whirled to his father, his eyes wide. "You-" the words got stuck in his throat. "We’ve been trying for nearly three years. Colette had two miscarriages!"

All of a sudden, the anger that had been boiling inside of Max just evaporated into thin air, leaving only cold, burning rage behind. He took a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling violently. "How. Dare. You," he spat. Even he was surprised how menacing it sounded, but he was also way beyond caring.

"You never said," his father said, nearly silently.

“Clearly I had a good reason,” Max bit out. “We lost two babies. And you are telling us that we took our time? How. Dare. You."

There was a flicker of something in his father’s eyes, which looked awfully similar to pain and regret, but Max was far too furious to care about some kind of guilt.

"You have no right-" he bit out, his voice trembling with anger, "No right to talk or say anything about-"

"It was already out anyway," his father defended himself.

The words made Max freeze again, and he slowly straightened, the cold fury rushing through his veins and making him feel lightheaded. He clenched his jaw, fighting to find the right words, even if he was pretty sure he was about to completely lose it.

“Another word. About her, about our baby. About either of them,” he snarled, his words low and dripping with venom. “ And I will have absolutely no problem with completely and permanently cutting you out of my life, vader. You’ll be dead to me. To Colette. To our baby. Is. That. Clear? Colette is not something that we are going to negotiate about. It didn’t work when I was 15. It‘s not working now!"

Surprisingly enough, Jos didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was of Max’s ragged breathing.

He didn’t notice Christian’s worried glance in his direction, but GP’s low and quiet voice cut through his thoughts. "Max."

Max flinched, and he forced himself to get a grip. For a half a second, he couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at the people around him.

Finally, he straightened, forcing his legs to move and his mouth to form a response. “Yeah.”

“There is a car waiting. Go,” GP told him calmly. There really wasn’t any reason to linger, and if he were to say anything else, he was in serious risk of exploding.

Max took a deep breath and moved towards the door, the need to see Colette driving every thought out of his mind.

All the anger and adrenaline made it very easy to push through the hoard of reporters and journalists waiting just outside the garage, his mind laser focused.

There were cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions, but he ignored them all. His only priority was to get to Colette.

At the same time as his single-minded determination helped him to power through the throng of people and reach the car waiting for him, his mind was also whirling with a thousand different questions.

What happens if the baby came right now? What if something went wrong? What if-

***

Charles had known that something was wrong. But then...he had been having that feeling for days. Colette was feeling anxious and scared and angry and a thousand other things and Charles would have known that she was feeling that way, even if he hadn't texted her.

They had always known if something was wrong with each other. They had always known what the other one was feeling.

That had always been their connection…He loved his brothers more than anything. He did. But they weren’t Colette. They weren’t his twin sister.

Two lives, two halves of one whole. He would never feel complete without Colette.

Charles could always tell if something was wrong with his twin. And for days now, something had been very, very wrong.

And still he had soldiered on. He had dragged his car from P19 up to P3. Just behind Carlos...two podiums for Ferrari but not enough to clinch the constructor's championship.

He had only done so because he had known that Colette was never gonna let him hear the end of it if he didn't do his very best.

Just like she had been with him during that Formula 2 race less than 48 hours after their father had died…and she had told him to get into that damn car and race in circles, she had done the same this time.

And he had listened.

Of course, he had.

Still...he had never been more thankful that a Race was over than he was of this one. He was just happy that it was over.

He followed along to the cooldown room on autopilot, Lando already, then Carlos following after him.

The absolute drama that went down there next...well, it simply started with a commotion. And screaming.

The next things they knew, there was Camilla, PR from Ferrari, in what could only be described as a screaming match with Gemma from Red Bull...with security following along as Gemma more or less threw herself into the cooldown room, completely ignoring what anybody else was telling her.

Charles stared, utterly bewildered. What the hell was going on here?

Why was Gemma here, literally shoving her way into the cooldown room and throwing herself at him, security struggling to stop her?

"He deserves to know!" Gemma snapped at Camilla. "You cannot keep this from him! This is about his family. We have tried to talk to Ferrari, you are either ignoring our calls or telling us that there is no way you'll tell him until after the interviews are done. What is wrong with you?"

“What the hell is going on?” Charles managed to finally find his voice. What was happening? What were they talking about? What the hell was wrong with Ferrari? "Someone, anyone, give me an answer!"

The only person who seemed willing to answer was Camilla and the look on her face was completely unapologetic. "You are a Ferrari driver," she said simply, as if that explained everything. "There is nothing that goes on with you while you are driving that takes precedence over your job."

"He isn't driving now," Gemma snapped, as she turned towards Charles. "Your sister is in the hospital. Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco."

That got Charles' attention like nothing else would have done. In one second, he went from baffled confusion to absolute shock and alarm. His eyes widened, his heart beginning to pound as adrenaline and fear suddenly flooded his system. "She's...she's...what?" he asked hoarsely.

"In the hospital," Gemma repeated, giving him a pointed look.

"What happened?" Lando demanded suddenly. "Is Colette alright?"

"Is something wrong with the baby?" Charles choked out.

With the baby. No. No. Not again.

He had seen his sister utterly heartbroken twice about her two miscarriages.

And these two miscarriages had been horrible. Heartbreaking. Devastating. Had destroyed her. But they hadn't been...They had been early on in the pregnancy.

They hadn't been after Colette had spent months pouring over baby name books and buying things for the nursery, after she had let him feel the baby kick in her belly...after...after all of this...

"What baby?!" Lando blurted out suddenly, but Charles ignroe that.

"Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco," Gemma repeated. "But you need to come with me now, Charles.”

"He's not coming with you!" Camilla snapped. "Charles has media obligations!"

"I don't give a fuck about my media obligations!" Charles snapped back at her. He was literally shaking with the sheer strength of his anger. "My sister is in the hospital! I am going. Now."

Charles didn't wait for a response. He was already headed towards the exit, his blood thundering in his ears as confusion and fear and anger raced through his body. The only thing that was going through his head was Colette was in the hospital, Colette was in the hospital, Colette. was. In. The. Hospital.

If anybody tried to stop him now, he would have absolutely no problem going straight through them.

"You are a Ferrari driver," Camilla growled.

"And," Charles snarled, whipping around to look at her. "I am a brother. And a twin. And she is my other half. She is in the damn hospital, and you tried to keep that information from me. What, did Ferrari think that I just wouldn’t care?"

That seemed to render her speechless for a moment, but only for a moment. "We believed," she said coldly, with an undercurrent of anger beneath. "That you would remain professional and focus on your job as you were paid to do so."

"Are you serious?" Lando snapped at that moment. "His sister is in the hospital and you want him to do interviews!?"

"I was not speaking to you, Norris," Camilla said, in a voice that could freeze water. "It is none of your business. We are trying to deal with a delicate public relations issue here that you don't understand."

"I have sisters too," Carlos snapped. "And you better believe that if one of them was in the hospital, I would be there too."

"Go," Lando told Charles at that moment. "GO."

Charles didn't need to be told twice. He was already halfway out the door. There was only one thought on his mind. Colette.

498 notes · View notes

lorarri · 4 months ago

Text

★ . . . 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 , 𝐊𝐑𝟕

summary , people seem to be under the impression that you and your good friend sebastian are dating but little do they know kimi is way more your type

pairing , rockstar! bassist! kimi räikkönen x fem! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

Y/NNIE

hey seb quick question

is kimi single?

SEBBY

yes he is

why do you ask

Y/NNIE

cuz he gives big dick enegery

and he is high key super hot

SEBBY

ew that's one of my best friends

Y/NNIE

sorry

but you know I cannot lie when it comes to fine men

also have you seen peoples twitter theories that we are together

SEBBY

yeah hannah and I were laughing at them earlier

some people are so dumb

Y/NNIE

ikr?

anyway kimi's number?

SEBBY

I better be best man when you two get married

xxx-xxx-xxx

Y/NNIE

I wouldn't have anybody else sebby

yourinstagram

liked by sebastianvettle kimimatiasraikkonen 78,384,982 others

yourinstagram look who I ran into kimimatiasraikkonen

view comments

user wingman kimi>>>

user he def putting. agood word in for seb

user seb sent his man so Y/N would hear about how great he is

user mother lookin sexy af rn

user getting ready for the dating annoucment

user seb def got notifications on for Y/N's posts lol

user so we can alllll see seb in the likes right????

view more comments

SEB

soooo kimi

what's the deal with you and Y/N

KIMI

friends

dw dude I know you into her

so no need to get jealous

SEB

jealous???

dude I was trying to set you up

why do you think I gave her your number

KIMI

ummm cuz you wanted me to put in a good word for you

SEB

dude I'm married

her name is hannah

LEW

let me guess vegas wedding

SEB

yup

KIMI

okay but what if she is not into me

SEB

dude she's had the hots for you since say one what are you talking about

LEW

yeah dude even a blind man

she's super into you mate

KIMI

oh damn

JEN JEN

okay hate to break up this revelation

but kimi the love song that you wrote about Y/N

is all over twitter

KIMI

oh shit

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

um kimi please tell me why I had to find out through twitter

that you are parental in love with me

is this true or????

KIMZILLA

yeah

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

well I like you too

and fucking god you said yes or this would be so fucking awkward rn

KIMZILLA

right

wanna come over

also seb's asking when the wedding is

I was thinking summer

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

we can talk plans after we fucked all night long

KIMZILLA

sounds like a plan rakkaani

sounds like a plan my love

kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by yourinstagram sebastianvettle5 87,389,477 others

kimimatiasraikkonen every song I write from now on will only ever be about you

view comments

user omfg this is so hot

yourinstagram my rockstar <3

user isn't that kimi's cross??????

sebastianvettle5 took you long enough dude

user wtf is going on in the house of commons

lewishamilton okay but what colour suit should I get for the wedding that's the real question

user this is so fucking iconic

jensonbutton there are childen on this app kimi....

user and you clown's were really saying Y/N and Seb huh

user live laugh love kimi and Y/N rn

user this ate in every language known to man

comments have been limited

476 notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 8 days ago

Text

Doctor’s Orders | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine)

Summary: Sick and pushed to his limit, Daryl shows up back home, battered, bruised and sporting a fever. However, you were there to take care and make sure that the archer got the care he needed.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, mentions of bruises, allusions to worse injuries.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: This was originally meant to be posted for day one of an event, but since I’ve been slacking on writing lately, that never happened. So instead, I decided to post it around the same time in February as the first fic I ever posted in the TWD fandom as a way to honour one whole year of writing and posting here (this fic is similar to that one, but still different). Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

“Daryl, oh my god...”

Daryl winced at the sound of your voice. Despite the low tone you used when you addressed him, the sound still reverberated through his skull, forcing the archer to shut his eyes in an attempt to will the incessant pounding away. He really wished that he had not opted to go on the run that morning. Although Daryl could usually endure a lot and he was no stranger to pain, the amount of bruises, deep cuts and blood that littered his body made it damn near impossible to focus on anything except how bad everything ached.

Daryl had been pushed to his limit, and it definitely showed.

With an exhausted sigh, the crossbow-wielding archer stepped further into the home he shared with you, lowering his most trusted weapon to lean against the wall. Before he could even attempt to do anything else, you were in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands as you checked him over. The gasp you let out told Daryl that he must definitely look as bad as he felt—and it certainly did not help that he had already been sporting a fever that morning, one that seriously hindered his ability to think clearly whilst on the run.

“Dar, how did you end up like this?” you inquired in a stern voice. You released his face from your grasp and instead opted to grab his hand instead, gently pulling him with you to the couch. You urged him to lower himself onto the plush cushions, and you did not miss the way he sighed in relief when he finally got off his feet.

Daryl did not respond instantly. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, the pounding in his head making it difficult to do so. “Fever,” he began, his voice hoarse and his throat scratchy. “Didn’t—couldn’t think clearly while on the run. Misjudged the amount’a walkers that were in the buildin’. Took a tumble down the stairs when trynna escape.”

You looked at him in disapproval, a look Daryl hated, because it was a look that you only gave to him when he seriously messed up. “Daryl—”

“M’fine,” he cut you off. “Ain’t nothin’ I can’t bounce back from.”

Despite what he thought was reassurance, you could clearly tell that he was indeed not fine. When you had cupped his cheeks a few moments prior, you had nearly yanked your hands away, that is how hot he was. He was burning up, and you could clearly note the scratchiness of his throat when he spoke. He was sick, and had overexerted himself immensely. He needed to be taken care of, and soon.

“You’re not fine,” you insisted. Before he could voice his protest, you cut him off. “You are not fine. You’re burning up and you’re clearly hurt. If this is ‘fine’, I don’t even wanna know what your definition of ‘not fine’ is.” You sighed and shook your head. “Just… Just let me take care of you, okay? I hate seeing you like this.”

Daryl bit his lower lip, but hesitantly nodded regardless. “Alright,” he agreed, his voice surprisingly soft. “Whatcha want me to do first?”

“Think you can manage taking a shower on your own?” you asked, sighing in relief.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then get yourself cleaned up and get your ass in bed. I’ll handle the rest,” you told him, your gratefulness towards his compliance clear as day on your face. And as Daryl peeled himself away from the comfort the plush cushions of the couch provided him, he realized then and there that he would move heaven and earth if it meant you would look at him like that again, a look of pure, unadulterated love and care.

“Okay. I come bearing healing supplements. Tea, soup, some Tylenol for that fever of yours, water, and some ointment and bandages.”

Daryl smiled up at you from his position on the bed. “Thanks,” he told you, his ocean-coloured eyes following your every move as you placed the tray down on the bedside table. “There ain’t no need for them bandages, though. Fixed myself up after the shower. Didn’t want ya to go through the trouble.”

You sent him a pointed look. “Really? Or was it because you didn’t want me to see how bad your injuries really were?” When Daryl hesitated, you sighed and shook your head. “Daryl—”

“I promise m’fine, alright?” he cut you off, clearly not wanting you to worry about him so much. “Sure, them bruises and shit hurt, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle. ‘Sides, m’pretty sure my fever s’a cause for concern, yeah? Why don’t ya help with that?”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to make you focus on one thing to stop you from focusing too much on something worse. In this case, he wanted you to focus on his fever instead of the injuries he wanted to keep hidden from you for as long as he could.

You sighed, but nodded nonetheless. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that, right?”

Daryl’s lips quirked up into a small smile at that. “And yet ya love me.”

“Only god knows why,” you joked, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. You leaned forward and brushed his damp hair out of his face, pursing your lips at the heat that pressed against your palm. “Okay, Tylenol time. Right now.”

Daryl chuckled hoarsely and took the two pills you handed him. He swallowed them with the water and let out a huff of breath, one of the pills momentarily getting caught in his throat before sliding down with another sip of water.

“Thanks. I hated that,” he attempted to joke, managing to crack a small smile when you laughed.

“I don’t care. It’s gonna help break that fever of yours.” You reached over and carefully grabbed the bowl of soup you had made for him. Well, made was a stretch. It was canned soup that you had heated up for him, but by the way he started devouring it the moment you gave it to him, one would think it was home-made. Nevertheless, you found it rather endearing regardless.

“Mm,” Daryl hummed, slurping the soup from the bowl, not even bothering to use the spoon.

You laughed and shook your head. “Good?”

“Mhm,” he hummed again and lowered the now-empty bowl to his lap, some soup dribbling down his chin. “Real good.”

Reaching forward, you gingerly wiped at his chin, the thick liquid sticking to the back of your hand. “I can tell,” you teased him, wiping your hand on your pants.

Daryl didn’t feel ashamed. You had seen him do far worse than eat like a toddler. He simply gave you a little smile, leaning back against the headboard and sighing in relief when you grabbed the water bottle and pressed it against his forehead, the coolness working into his fever ridden skin.

Your heart ached for the archer. His stubbornness would be the death of him one day. You were all for independence, not about to let someone take yours away from you, but when it came to things like this? Something that could have been soothed and tended to early on and would have prevented his current state? You had to remind yourself to not be anything but caring. That was the way he had been forced to live, and it would take love, care, and patience to let him know that he didn’t need to be that guarded.

And with the world in shambles, you had nothing but time on your hands most days.

“Why did I have to fall in love with someone so goddamn stubborn?”

That took Daryl by surprise. However, he simply shrugged. “Don’t know. Lapse in judgement, I guess,” he joked.

You shook your head with a fond smile. “No. No, that’s not it. It was a rhetorical question. I’m glad I fell in love with you. The stubbornness is just something that’s… part of your charm. And I love all of you, so I guess I love that, too.”

Daryl’s lips twitched into a half smile. He took the water bottle from your grasp and placed it down on the bedside table. “If ya say that again without scrunching your face as much, it might be believable.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed and grabbing the empty bowl from his lap. “I’m gonna go refill this. What you’re gonna do is drink that tea and get more comfortable.”

Daryl quirked an eyebrow at that. “S’that so?”

“Yup. Doctor’s orders, Dixon.”

The archer scoffed, but smiled and reached over to grab the mug with his tea. “Yes, ma’am.”

290 notes · View notes

boltwrites · 7 months ago

Note

I need a Logan/Wade/Reader fic where reader is dating Wade (before movie) and meets Logan, sees how he acts with Wade, and makes a ton of “just fuck already” jokes that Wade (ofc) encourages and it pisses Logan off until he does one day (reader included lol) 😏

A/N: i'm going to have to make a part 2 for this, since this is pretty much solely humor and reader making fun of wade and logan. i will be making a part 2 for the smut, though. mark my fucking words.

some things to note: reader is stated as polyamorous and LGBT (no specific label is mentioned). also, lots of sex jokes and fourth wall breaks lmao.

You were used to Wade bringing around some strange characters. Usually, they thought he had drugs or something (which he did, most of the time. Until they all mysteriously went missing right before his birthday party. Almost like his unsavory lifestyle was suddenly sanitized for wider consumption. Hm. Weird.) Sometimes they wanted money - other times it seemed more likely that Wade was holding them for ransom and relapsing into his merc days. But that wasn't really your business.

The point to your opening statement was: you didn't really want to fuck Wade's friends. Astonishing, really - you went to high school with a group of weird kids that all turned out to be some flavor of L,G,B or T and as such, you either wanted to or did fuck most of them. But Wade's friends? They just lacked a little something-something. Al was too old and too high most of the time. Yukio and her gruff girlfriend were far too young for you. Colossus was too Russian. Vanessa was Wade's ex - which would have been hot, honestly - but you weren't the biggest fan of how the two of them handled the post-breakup, and therefore she was off limits. But Peter... maybe...?

No. No, if you fucked Peter, Wade would never let you hear the end of it.

So, you were typically relegated to Wade, and Wade alone, which was more than fine by you. That insane healing factor meant the man could go all night, and he was naturally (or, unnaturally. Mutantly?) ribbed for your pleasure. Nice.

So when he came back from his most recent world-saving (multiverse saving?) adventure, you expected him to bring back maybe some kind of bright-eyed teenage sidekick, or a wacky off-the-wall team up, like Dopinder.

Ah, right, Dopinder. God, you would have fucked him. Sadly, the man was staunchly monogamous like some kind of fucking freak.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, when you walked into Wade's unbirthday party? He had company. And the company? Hot. Old. Man.

Oh no. Your fucking weakness.

You'd really never forgive Wade for evaporating Cable before you had a chance with him.

Maybe this was his make-up present.

And said present - or, man, shouldn't objectify - could not take his damn eyes off Wade. Glaring at him, huffing a little half-chuckle when Wade insulted someone with a joke, rolling his eyes as Wade recounted some story of their conquests with exaggerated arm movements and wild, unnecessary additions.

Oh my god. Oh my god? Did Wade fuck him before you could? That bitch!

You scoffed to yourself as you threw your jacket on the coat rack - or was that Peter? Who gives a shit. You were on a mission. You sauntered straight up to Wade, no greeting or preamble, and tossed your arm around his shoulders, setting your ass down right in his lap.

"Oh, hell yeah! There's my sugar ass-" Wade grinned at you, and you just rolled your eyes and planted a big kiss on his bald forehead. Thank god, he'd stopped wearing that dumbass hair. It made him look like a social studies teacher. And not a good one - like one of the ones that just took the job so that he could coach the JV boy's soccer team, and he's not even very good at that. Anyway.

Wade wrapped an arm around you, and you adjusted yourself on his lap, hazarding a glance over at the man sitting next to him. His eyes flit from Wade to you, then to Wade again, brow scrunched a little closer together than when you'd first seen him.

"Wolvie, meet my little discord kitten. And you-" he broke the fourth wall, just to look you straight in the eyes. "This, is the big bad wolf. Er-ine. Yeah. Yeah, that works."

"Wade," you replied, trying not to think about the fact that he just looked into your eyes like you were a camera on the Office. "You never told me you were bringing home a third. I would have brought the nice strap."

The man - Wolvie? Wolverine? Whatever - choked on his beer, and shot Wade a confused, accusatory glare.

"What about the-"

Wolvie gestured in the direction of Vanessa, and Wade's eyes widened, his mouth actually fell open. And this time, it wasn't fake or sarcastic shock, but actual, genuine emotion.

"Oh, no no no - that metal skull of yours really is dense, isn't it, peanut?" He knocked on Wolvie's forehead with way more force than he would use on any normal human, and the man batted Wade's hand away like a pissy tom cat, lip curled over his teeth in a growl.

That was. Hot. Ok.

Wade continued talking anyway - as he always did.

"No, Vanessa? Lovely lady, don't get me wrong - but that ship sailed loooong ago, my temporally-challenged friend," Wade sighed, squeezing the arm that was around your shoulder. "No - that relationship was, as the kids say - 'lacking in communication and emotional openness' - oh, and she made me feel like chicken shit for not being a superhero!"

"Babe, you did that to yourself," you shook your head at him. Really - Vanessa and Wade had just grown apart. She'd looked into more gainful employment, and Wade had followed, struggling to integrate into whatever the fuck "proper" society was. What really happened was that Wade blamed himself for her death and tied way too much of his self-worth to their relationship. And Vanessa - well, she just didn't feel safe with him anymore. It wasn't her fault; it was the PTSD. But it still hurt him. It was better for the both of them to part ways. You always knew Wade still held a torch for her, but you didn't mind much in a relationship sense. You were polyamorous - your man loving multiple people didn't bother you. What did matter was the fact that for Wade's mental health - or what little of it remained - he shouldn't be trying to get with that woman again.

"Yeah! I know! I was getting to that - shh," he pressed a finger to your lips and you kissed it, which made him go "aww" before returning to his rambling. "Anyway, while I was on this beautiful journey of self-discovery, I realized so many things, buttercup."

He sighed, cupping your cheek. "The Avengers are absolute booty ass - without their mainstay former drug addict, I'm afraid they lost out on the crowd of little white girls that want to fuck older men, and we all know that demographic is vital to the longevity of a franchise. Furthermore, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard, which means I have to re-examine my vehicle-related inherent biases. Oh, and also - I'm not a hero. Can't pretend to be some kind of 'normie.' So I'd rather be a freak with the rest of the rejects."

Wade gestured to the rest of the party, and your grin widened, arms wrapping tight around his neck and pulling him in for a stupid, sloppy kiss. God, that's what you'd been trying to tell him for goddamn ages. Thank fuck, the whole multiverse just had to be threatened for him to realize it. You should have expected it - that's just kind of how men are.

Wolverine cleared his throat, and you pulled away, patting Wade on the chest. The older man looked at the both of you with trepidation, like he might be interrupting something. Your heart skipped a little - he really did like Wade, didn't he? Well -

"That's great, baby," you patted Wade's cheek. "Glad you had to experience whatever is closest to death for you to realize what's really important. That's so incredibly healthy and absolutely viable in the long-term."

Wolvie chuckled, grinning at both you and your boyfriend. Oh no - not only was he hot, he was pretty. That stupid little cat ear hair wasn't helping, especially not when he was laughing at your joke.

You took the opportunity to raise your leg just enough to brush your calf along the inside of his knee, and his eyes immediately flicked to yours, smile faltering as he calculated whether to lean into it or shy away.

"Thank you, I so appreciate you, baby-boo-" Wade nuzzles his nose against your cheek and you giggled, biting your lip to quell your laugh as you tried to watch both boys. "But if I remember correctly, before we went on this plot-hole addressing rant, you said something about the good strap?"

He waggled his hairless brows, and your gaze flicked between the two of them again - Wade, eager and grinning; Wolvie, tense and most certainly blushing.

"Yeah," you sighed dramatically, waving your hand in the direction of the refreshments table. "Unfortunately, the food at this party isn't bottom friendly. Shame."

"Fuck!" Wade cursed, head snapping forward in frustration. "I knew Peter forgot something! That insensitive metrosexual!"

You snorted, shook your head as your gaze pulled to Wolverine, you dragged your leg just a little higher.

"Oh, don't worry about it. If your friend here wants, we could recreate your favorite Lonely Island music video."

Said friend's brow knit, his jaw clenched as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, as if you'd translate your Wade-speak for him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend did it for you, with an exaggerated gasp for comedic effect.

"3-Way (The Golden Rule) (Featuring Lady Gaga & Justin Timberlake)?" He cried, leaning over so that he could smush his face closer to yours. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

He all but squealed, kicking his feet to the point where he almost launched you straight out of his lap.

"You hear that, Logan-boy? It won't even be gay - with a honey in the middle there's some leeway," he gestured to you dramatically, jazz-hands and all.

"It might be a little gay," you whispered in Wolvie - Logan's? - direction.

Either way, it seemed like something one of you said made the poor man short-circuit. He was just looking at the two of you like Wade was regrowing a baby head.

"It is, like, a genuine offer," you clarified for him. "We're not fucking with you - well. Wade's always fucking around."

"Oh, but I am so serious about this, babygirl. Wanna find out if that 207th bone is also adamantine, let me tell you-"

"Shut your whore mouth," Logan hissed at Wade, and you heard the man's teeth click as Wade's jaw snapped shut. What?

"Hey, did he just listen to you when you told him to shut up?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, but gave you a curt nod as answer. Your head whipped from one man to the other.

"You two definitely fucked already!"

"Oh-"

"What did he tell you?" You cut in, finger raised as Wade tried to speak. His eyes widened, and his lips closed like he had no control over them. Your jaw fell open. You turned to Logan like he was some kind of evil sex magician. Which - maybe he was. Or maybe that was a different man from the same movie that no one knows how to write because someone actually gave him an accurate accent. How would you know?

"We didn't fuck," Logan clarified. "We fought. Hard."

"It was the only way around the Hays Code censor!" Wade cut in, words spilling out like he only had a few seconds before Logan shot him another look that had his mouth shutting and his pants tightening.

You rolled your eyes. "Sweetie, the Hays Code was abolished in 1968," you patted his cheek like you were talking to a child.

"Tell that to the mouse!"

"Well," you did your best to get this trainwreck back on track. "Anyway. What do you think, hmm?"

You directed your question at Logan-Wolvie-Wolverine. It was so hard to learn somebody's actual name when Wade just threw nicknames out like candy.

But still, the man frowned, lips pursed as he considered the proposition. His lips twitches as he swirled the bottle of beer in his hand, like he could find the answers in the foam that swelled there. He shook his head, then took a sip, smacking an "ah" before the bottle hit the table with a thump.

"Eh. What the hell."

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x logan howlett x reader #mine

463 notes · View notes

godmadeaterribleerror · 14 days ago

Text

Where Do You End Pt. 3

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03! - Pt. 2

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, angst, body swap, mentions of smut, humor, horniness, very weird

Summary/Warnings: You and Dean have a talk.

Author's Note: Here we go. Dean about the be on his KNEES (for several reasons)

Word Count: 5.3k

A lot was happening.

Cold wind had filled Dean’s body—Her body—and then suddenly the bunker library was gone. Sammy was gone. Everything was gone, and he felt like he’d been flipped in and out, turned in a circle, and everything was spinning when the world came back into focus.

And he was so fucking confused.

He was back in his own body. Taller, easier to control, better to reach high things with, and less likely to accidentally move too fast and slam into something. He had his own legs and arms and feet and hands.

Dean had never really appreciated his hands before this. But son of a bitch, he’d missed them. One week without them, and he’d failed to open jars, had Her fancy, looping handwriting that he couldn’t even read, and dropped three guns. She could always hold a gun easily, but Dean had almost taken Sammy’s ear off.

He’d never take his hands for granted again.

He’d never take his body for granted. As fun as boobs had been for about two days—he’d never touched them, She would’ve killed him, but he’d liked watching them bounce—he’d quickly gotten sick of bras and how sometimes they just hurt. A lot of Her body had just hurt at random points through every single damn day. Dean was never going to be sure how She just did things, because he’d gotten a fresh wave of what Sammy had called post-menstrual syndrome, and he’d wanted to kill someone.

He’d missed being taller, missed having Little Dean, missed not needing to worry about walking through the gas station at night—he’d had to start taking Sammy every time he wanted some pie, and he was never going to leave Her alone in a bar again—and not having to keep track of his goddamn hair all the time.

Even now it was too long. He’d been ready for a cut by the time the curse had hit, and somehow over just one week of being unattended, Dean felt like he had a mane. When he rubbed a hand over his jaw he could feel stubble, and She hadn’t even left him a razor. Or scissors.

If fact, the room seemed to be mostly empty, save for a lot of books, some stray ritual materials on the floor, and the motel furniture. There wasn’t even food or beer, and the bed looked hardly slept in, and Dean had a feeling that all those books would have worn pages from Her attention.

He didn’t quite know what he’d expected, when they switched back. A warning would’ve been nice, or a heads up that he’d suddenly be transported to the middle of freakin’ nowhere. All he knew what that She’d spent the week somewhere rainy, with trees and a view of the ocean, crashing up in waves on the rocks. Somewhere where the motels had cabin-like furniture and a lot of photos of bird and moose.

This limited information told Dean that he was either on the upper East Coast, or the upper West Coast.

So if he called Sam and took a gamble, he had a fifty percent chance of getting rescued, along with an equal shot of being stranded even longer as Sammy fucked off in the wrong direction and Dean tried to work out where the hell She’d landed him.

But if Dean was here, She’d be back in the bunker with Sam. So, hopefully, She wouldn’t be so pissed that she’d just leave Dean to find his own way back.

Hopefully when Dean got back, She’d still be there.

He’d spent most of the week scowling at books and random points on the wall, trying to figure out how the hell he was going to fix this. He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose Her.

And She did love him. She’d said she loved Dean, and she’d used the present tense, and there was still hope. He’d fix this. Dean had spent the whole week repeating to himself that he would fix this. He’d read a bunch on articles online, asked Sam what he did when Eileen was pissed—Sam had said Eileen never got that pissed at him, so Dean had thrown out all his lettuce—and tried to call Her over and over to fix this.

Dean had been worried She wasn’t getting his messages. He’d started to feel something heavy and sickening grow in his stomach, because She could have been in danger. Sam said She’d been emailing him about the curse, but maybe whoever had been hurting Her had gotten her laptop, and they’d been using the emails to throw Sam and Dean off the trail. Maybe She’d been waiting for Dean to come help Her, but he’d just been brooding so now she thought he didn’t care.

Her laptop was still open, and when Dean clicked on her inbox, his emails had been left unread. Her phone was on the bed, and he could still see all his messages on the notification screen. She hadn’t been in danger.

She’d just been ignoring him.

And he could feel his jaw clench—his hands fist and his brow draw—as anger began to settle in his muscles and throat, but he didn’t have the right to it.

Because Dean was pretty sure She thought he didn’t care.

About Her.

“She just needs space, dude.” Sam had looked up at him from across the war room table about a week ago, his voice dangerously close to a lecture tone. “She just found out you’ve been lying to her for years-“

“I lied for her.” Dean had snapped, glaring at his phone. “Why won’t she call me back-“

“Because as far as she’d concerned, you just lied. She doesn’t care that it was for her,” Sam had put quotation marks around those last words, and Dean had scowled. “She cares that you didn’t think about her at all-“

Dean head had snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Shut the fuck up, Sammy, of course I care about her-“

“I know that.” Sam hadn’t wavered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because you tell me. But all you’ve done with her is make her feel confused and dumb-“

“She’s not dumb-“

“I fucking know that Dean! I’m trying to tell you how she feels-“

“I wouldn’t need you to tell me,” Dean’s words had been pushed through his teeth, and he’d been damn near ready to punch Sam in the face or smash his phone on the table. “If she’d pick up the phone.”

Sam had given Dean a long, odd look, and then shaken his head. “Whatever, man. Not the love of my life who’s gonna hate my guts.”

Dean had felt the blood leave his face. He’d felt his whole world shatter just a little, felt his heart fucking stop. Just go dead in his chest, because She didn’t hate him. She loved him. Dean had decided that he’d be fine not being able to touch Her or hold Her as close as he wanted, because at least She’d be safe, and She’d never hate him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to look in the mirror and see anything but a rotten, cracked pile of trash if She hated him.

But he’d looked in the mirror that same night, and he’d seen Her. Awesome, smart, funny Her.

He’d never known what he’d done to trick someone so beautiful into loving him. Dean had been satisfied knowing that possibly, maybe, hopefully, he could’ve been good enough.

That even if he’d never get to have Her, he’d been good enough for Her to trust him, to let him hold Her heart in his hands and keep it safe, just as he’d built his own heart to sit on an alter that was made of Her. An alter that tended to and existed only for Her, that would shatter and cave if he ever became something horrible enough to make Her not want him-

Son of a bitch.

He’d gotten it.

He’d stared at Her reflection, and he’d felt it, in Her chest. Worked out why he’d spent every moment in Her body trailing after himself, and moving to his will, leaning into his own touch. Why his eyes kept scanning around rooms for something he didn’t understand, but would know when he found it. Why when he’d taken a shower and the smell of his shampoo had drifted through the steam, everything in his body—Her body—had relaxed.

She’d built Her own alter.

To Dean.

Of all fucking people, She really did love him in the way he’d always refused to hope for. He’d wanted—for Her sake and his own painful reparation—for Her love to be strong and real, but fleeting.

He’d prayed that She did love him, and She’d always like him, but it would pass and Dean wouldn’t have to spend his life forcing himself a few steps back from grabbing Her and fusing Her love into his ribs until he could really fucking feel it.

He hadn’t wanted to feel it. He’d wanted Her love to wither, so Dean could tend to his own selfish desire in peace, and She could be happy.

A piece of him had hated the idea of Her being happy without him. But that had been part of the sacrifice. Dean would have to break himself down until he learned how to stop getting jealous when Her attention drifted, when he figured out how to lie to himself about not caring if She settled safely with some boring douchebag in a way that stuck on his body.

He’d told himself that one day She’d start flirting at a bar, and his legs would forget to chase after Her because he really did want Her to be happy.

But now he could feel it. He had been able to feel the part of Her that moved and rolled and hummed only for Dean.

He’d started rehearsing his speech that night.

He had a whole thing ready. He’d tell Her she was right. He’d stay he was sorry, and that he’d make the same choice a million times to keep Her safe but he’d never be able to live with himself She thought he didn’t care. He’d say he cared. He’d say it over and over until She understood that Dean could be reduced to ash and sand, and he’d still care. He was just bad at it. He was just bad in general. But he loved Her, and that made him feel okay.

He’d practiced in his head when he was in Her body—using Her voice to apologize to Her had felt strange and wrong—and he spent the time while he waited for Sammy to arrive going over it in the mirror. She’d forgive him. He’d run the speech by Sam, and Sam had rolled his eyes and called Dean a loser and an idiot, but he’d said it would probably be fine.

It would be fine.

Sam said Dean would be picked up in a day, and he’d get to back Her, apologize, and everything would be fine.

He packed Her things as he waited, running over the speech one last time as he heard the rumble of Baby’s engine outside.

But when there was a knock at the door, it wasn’t Sam standing on the other side.

——————

It’s raining.

It fucking raining.

You’re standing outside in the rain, your hair clinging to you brow and your clothing stuck to your bone, and Dean’s staring at you like he’s seen a ghost, and this is so dumb.

“Hi.” Your voice is flat and not as strong as you’d like, but you’d also been out here for a minute before he’d answered the door, and the cold is already sinking too deep into your skin.

“Uh,” Dean stares at you, a small line forming in his brow. “I thought you’d be Sam.”

“I’m not.” You raise your chin slightly, holding his gaze. “I’ve had enough of being someone else for a long, long time.”

“I- you- Uh,” he clears his throat, and there’s something shaken and slightly off in his gaze, something that makes him falter. “I’ve never been good at-“

“Am I allowed inside?”

Dean blinks at you, his brow fully drawing, and you roll your eyes.

“It’s raining, Dean.”

He frowns, scanning over the grass behind you and the pavement, and the sight of the mist and darkened concrete almost seems to shock him. He stands a little taller, almost stumbles back, and grabs your arm.

Yanking you right inside after him.

Forcing your body to fall right over his, keeping you there for a brief second as you regain your balance, and then just fucking moving away.

He’d been so warm. He hadn’t quite smelled right, but you’d smelled like him, and it had made up the difference. His strong, steady arm had wrapped around your back for a second, and then he’d left you standing in the center of the room as he shuffled away.

He’d left you standing alone.

Nothing had changed.

“I missed you.”

You glower at the air, turning to see that his voice had come from the bathroom. The door has been left ajar, and you can see him moving around inside, and you hate that you’re still listening. That it’s Dean’s voice—his real voice, with all that same gravity he always has and the deep sound almost a bass in your chest—so you’re clinging to it like it’s wood and you’ve been set adrift.

Dean set you adrift. He’s the one stranded you and threw you to the waves and lied. Then he’d always pulled you just close enough to the shore for you to foolishly believe he’d left you rest somewhere warm, and then he’d fucking left again.

“You missed me.” Your voice has a little more fire behind it, and you can feel it bubbling up in your neck and stomach. The explosion. “You fucking missed me?”

Dean’s head pokes through the door, and there’s a small frown on his face. “Of course I-“

“Did you really miss me? Or are you just saying that when you secretly want me gone?”

He flinches. Dean visibly recoils, like you’ve stabbed him, and you’d feel worse about that if he hadn’t broken your heart into pieces with the blunt end of a gun and then fused you back together a little more his than before. A little more devoted—because at least he’d cared enough to pay you any mind—and a little angrier.

Dean says your name slowly, you hold your hand up, and his mouth shuts closed in a second.

“We’re going to fight, Dean.” You let out a slow breath, scanning over his face. “We’re going to fight, and then I’m going to leave.”

His eyes widen, something wild and panicked flashing behind them. “You’re-“

“I’m leaving with you. Or without you. But I,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut because you can’t look at him. He looks wounded and smaller than he should be, and he can’t do that. Not now. “I need to know, now. I need to know why you lied, and why you just made me stay in love with you-“

“I didn’t mean to.” He mutters, and his voice is soft, and you still won’t look at him. “I didn’t- You had to be safe-“

“I was safe-“

“Yeah, you were. But you wouldn’t have been, with me.”

Something’s passed to your hands, and it’s soft and warm. You risk one eye open to stare at the fluffy towel in your hands, and Dean’s still talking.

“You woulda had a target, people with me and Sammy always get targets, and they always end up dead. And I-“ He chokes on something, and you’re staring at his knees. You still feel like you’re seeing too much. “I couldn’t lose you. I don’t- I won’t lose you. I needed to protect you, and I wanted you to be happy-“

You scoff, glowing at his thighs. “That’s a lie. You always stopped me from moving on-“

“I know-“

“You don’t know, Dean!” You’re shouting at his stomach, strangling the towel in your hands. “You have no idea how- It hurt! It hurt all the time that you’d say you didn’t love me, and then you’d turn around and tell me nobody was good enough for me, and I- I was confused, and lost, and lonely-“

He says your name, and you shake your head at his chest.

“No! I would’ve been safe! I’m always safe with you-“

Dean’s laugh is dry and humorless. “That’s not-“

“It is. You-“ You choke on the air, and the base of his neck tenses. “I don’t trust just anyone, Dean, and I trusted you with my life, I loved you-“

“Loved?”

You stare at him, and he’s never been so still. Like he thinks that if he even breathes a little too loud, you’ll bolt.

And he looks pained.

You can feel it. In your own chest there’s a phantom of something clenching at your heart, and there’s a wired tension in your muscles that you’d grown used to over the past week.

He’s shivering a little. It’s humid in the motel room, and he’s dry, but Dean’s shivering.

And it’s a little hard to breathe.

“Love.” You whisper. “I love you. But it hurts, Dean. It really fucking hurts.”

He bows his head, and only mutters, “I- I had to protect you-“

He keeps repeating that, like it’s a mantra or prayer. Like he can make it real, if he just says it over and over until the words are only sounds.

“You didn’t need to protect me Dean, and you know it.” You sigh, rubbing your neck with a hand as Dean seems to curl into himself. “You were just afraid.”

He flinches again. “I-“

“But you are not a coward, Dean Winchester.” You force your voice to be a little stronger, your spine moving to stand slightly taller as you watch him. “You are an asshole, and a masochist, and self-sacrificing dick, and the best man I know.”

He glances up at you, swallowing slightly, and you push on.

“You’re clever, and resilient, and loyal, and caring. You’d give your life in a second for anyone, and you’d give your happiness for the people you love because you are an idiot who can’t see how it kills us. I did not fall in love with you against my will. I am a smart woman, and I chose you.” You narrow your eyes at him, taking a firm step closer. You can feel something charged and bright moving between your bodies, and you don’t know if it starts in him or you, but it’s all the same. Right now, it’s only you and Dean in the whole world. “I chose you because you are brave, so stop being a coward and be fucking happy, Dean.”

“I-“

“Tell me you’ll be happy.”

Dean stares at you. “I- I’ll be happy.”

He frowns at the words, as if they taste odd on his tongue.

You’ll have to work on that.

You nod. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” He almost lurches forward, like he’s physically stopping himself from reaching out to hold you. “I’m so goddamn sorry, and I’m never gonna-“

“Tell me you love me. But,” You stand a little taller, and this could break you. “Only if you really fucking mean it-“

“I love you.” The words are fast. Firm.

They jumpstart your every nerve at once, and you’re going to be okay.

“I’m in love with you,” Dean says your name, his hands fisted at his side. “I love you, and I’m sorry, and I’ll be happy, and just- Don’t leave. Don’t leave, please. I love you, goddamnit, so don’t-“

“You can say it all you want.” You swallow, keeping your gaze locked on his. “I want to see you do something.”

There’s a long moment where he just stares at you, but there’s no sickening worry in your body. You didn’t push him too far, you said everything you had to, and Dean might be drawing ragged breathes you can feel tighten around your own lungs—might just be standing there and watching you—but if he does nothing at all you’ll know. You’ll finally know in a way that you can trust, and you’ll be able to walk away and relearn how to move and think in a world where Dean really doesn’t want you-

He moves so fast. One second Dean’s staring at you with a drawn brow and flared nostrils, and the next he’s on you. Bent over your body, his hands molded and perfectly fit on your waist and jaw, his lips slammed over yours and pulling every part of your soul out through your mouth.

And every bit of doubt evaporates without any suffering or pain.

Because Dean cares.

And you can feel it.

It’s not just in how he kisses you, like he’s returned from war and you’ve been a crumpled picture in his pocket, his kiss bruising and searching all at once, as every bit of his adoration and desire and hope—there’s something that’s still delicate in this kiss, because his hands stay on your body like you might be set adrift once more and he’s fighting against all the tides and rocks to keep you at his side—sinks from Dean’s lip into yours.

It’s in the lingering sensations you can still feel between your bodies. It’s in how when your arms wrap around Dean’s neck and you return the kiss with every bit of wrathful and determined love you’ve ever held for the man before you, you can feel the rush of relief in his body.

He pulls you closer, and groans against your skin when you squirm in his hold. Dean presses kisses over your collarbone and sucks a line up your neck that makes you fold into him like putty, and when you scratch at his arms a prickle runs over your own skin.

You think Dean’s feeling it too. He grabs at your hair and tugs it back to bite and kiss at your throat, and his own body jerks slightly. He falls over you on the mattress, and makes a low grunt that matches the weight of him that’s

been dropped on your chest. You reach a hand between your bodies as he nips at your lower lip—palming and squeezing at his bulge, feeling yourself melt into the sheets at his low groan—and when he swats you away he replaces the loss with his knee, his thighs tensing in that brief moment where you’re aching without relief.

Dean rises over you, and furrowed expression on his face.

“Got makin’ up to do.” He mutters, his eyes so dark on yours it feeds something in your gut that had been flickering and humming into an inferno. And you could get lost in that darkness. They’d be warm. “I just- I’m takin’ care of it, sweetheart. You need to trust me-“

You push up to kiss him, cupping your hand around his head and keeping it short and gentle.

“I trust you.” You whisper against his lips, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m staying. Just- I-“

You don’t have the words. For how if this is it, if he’s going to love you and hold you, he can’t drop you. You can’t do this just to be left stranded once more.

But you don’t need the words.

Because there’s still a little bit of you that is Dean, and he understands.

Dean lays you back on the bed, pulls his shirt over his head, and now you have nothing but time and care. His hands trace and map over your body as he strips you out of your wet clothing, and lingering cold from the rain vanishes as Dean starts to touch you.

Really, properly touch you.

Rough, calloused hands squeezing and pulling at your breasts and hot, full lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking and pulling it between his teeth with low groans that vibrate through your body. By the time he’s trailing down your stomach—sucking dark marks all over your skin that make your back arch off the bed and your knees spread in a silent plea for him to move further down—you’re tugging at his hair and gasping his name in need.

Then Dean dives right past where you’re dripping and rolling the sheets for him, kissing down your thighs and up to your ankle, switching legs and keeping you pressed to the mattress with one firm hand.

You can see his own need, pushing against his jeans. You can feel it, throbbing and pulsing in your core.

“Dean,“ You moan as he nips at your knee, slowing working his way back up to your center. “Shit, Dean, please-“

His mouth moves to your inner thigh, sucking another, almost possessive spot right near your core before hiking your legs over his shoulders, his breath warm over you pussy and his mouth so close-

“Dean-“

“That’s my name, baby.” He hums. “Get ready to scream it.”

The asshole winks at you, and you barely have time to glare at him before he dives into your cunt, and everything in your body lights on fire.

It’s infuriating how everything Dean does, he’s good at. How even eating pussy feels like something artful when it’s Dean doing it, and he’s working you like clay with only his mouth. Turning you into a writhing, moaning mess on the bed as he licks and sucks and bites and kisses, and his scruff is just long enough to burn on your thighs in the best way, and his hands are drawing pattern on your thighs in perfect rhythm with his movement between your clit and clenching pussy, humming and growling against you in harmony and pushing his tongue into you right as your hips buck off the bed-

When you start to grind and moan a weak warning of your release—barreling towards you like a tidal wave—Dean keeps you on the edge with teeth on your clit and teasing movement of his tongue for just too long. Just until you’re whining and squirming and trying push your cunt right into his face, and then he pulls your clit into his mouth and flicks his tongue over you in almost a frenzy, and you unravel.

You might be screaming his name. Your heart feels like it’s filled with helium and your body feels a little bigger as Dean presses one calming kiss over your clit and draws away—keeping at least one part of his body pressed to yours as he sheds the remainder of his clothes—and you think he might be proud.

You’ll let him have this. Just for tonight, when all he’s done is eaten you out and you feeling like you’re glowing, you’ll let Dean be pleased with himself.

He settles back over your body, his gaze locked to yours as he bumps against your inner thigh, and every breath feels important.

“I-“ Dean clears his throat, scanning over your face. “I, uh- You didn’t happen to bring protection-“

“I’m clean.” You whisper, your fingers curling on his chest. “And on the pill.”

He swallows, nodding slowly. “And you’re okay-“

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure-“

“Dean.” Your voice gets a little more solid, your eyes firm on his. “If you don’t want to, we won’t, but I’m more than-“

You yelp as Dean slams his mouth down to yours, kissing you into the mattress and swallowing your high sound as he pushes his cock right into you without resistance.

He pulls back to watch you as he bottoms out, reaching down to trace a small circle on your clit, and his hips jerk with a grunt.

The movement make him press right against your g-spot, Dean groans and rolls his hips, you whine and start to grind against him as your own pleasure crest and vaults, and you both freeze as you realize what’s happening.

Dean pressed his thumb flat on your clit, the movement slow and careful, and lets out a hiss through his teeth. Still staring at him, you purposefully clench around him, and stars cloud your vision as need pools deeper in your gut.

Something snaps.

And you’ve never been higher.

Every movement is doubled, and everything seems to only carry you higher. Dean begins to slam into you at a brutal pace that grows sloppier and sloppier the more you grind and writhing beneath him, squeezing his cock whenever he hits that spongey, needy part deep inside of you, the feeling of practical euphoria doubled and practically intoxicating.

At some point Dean rolls onto his back, never removing himself inside of you and never breaking his pace. Your nails scratch at his chest as you ride his dick, rubbing your clit over his chest and reaching a hand behind you to play with his balls as he guides you up and down with a tight grip on your hips-

Dean almost roars when you squeeze his balls with light fingers, and you would’ve fallen forward if he didn’t hold you up. One of Dean’s thumbs move to furiously rub at your clit, and you’re not sure who cums first.

All you know is that it’s all an almost infinite high as you fuck yourself on his cock through your orgasm, and Dean pushes up to suck at your tits as his release drips down your thighs.

You could’ve stayed here forever. Basking in the little, electric aftershocks of your shared orgasm, squeezing around Dean when he twitches inside of each other, watching each other with open looks of wonder because you might have just found a backdoor to heaven.

But eventually, Dean has to roll you onto your back press a kiss to your brow before shuffling to the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth that gets tossed to a corner of the room once he’s cleaned you up, and wastes no time settling his body back over yours with a low groan.

“Sammy’s gonna have a field day.” He mutters against your skin, and you giggle, letting your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Been telling me for years to just talk to you.”

You hum. “You should’ve listened. Sam can be wise beyond his years sometimes.”

He snorts. “You’re supposed to be on my side-“

“I am.” You tilt your head to kiss his cheek, smiling against his scruff. “Just not for this.”

“Whatever.” Dean grumbles, and he’s clinging to you like you’re a teddy bear. “Long as he shuts his big mouth about it-“

“We could make out in the war room. When we get home. Just to fuck with him.”

There’s a long pause, and when Dean speaks again, he sounds a little breathless. You feel a little lightheaded.

“You’re my dream girl.”

“I know.” You smile at the ceiling. “Dean, can you still feel-“

“Yeah.” He pinches at your waist, as if testing that the aftereffects are still there. “Kinda hot, though.”

“You wanna keep making it up to me?” You hold his gaze as he pushes up on his elbows, raising his brows at you. “Sam doesn’t know where we are, you still have about four years of missed sex to catch up on, and it is storming outside-“

Dean grunts your name, and you give him your best innocent pout.

“You forgive me?”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “But I’d like a few more apologies, please.”

He raises his brows. “Am I ever gonna get to stop apologizing-“

“No.” You offer him a small smile. “But mostly just because your apologies are amazing.”

Dean rolls his eyes, you open your mouth to tell him that you have forgiven him—so if he really doesn’t want to keep having sex, he by no means has to—but you don’t have to.

He knows.

And based on the fervor with which he kisses you back into the mattress, he wants nothing more than to try and fuck you until you’re turned inside out, and he’s gotten that lingering bit of the curse inside of him to stick.

End Note: Rare Dean Winchester dealing with emotions, spotted in the wild! Thank you so much for reading!! Shoutout to the anon who requested a body swap series, huge W for that idea <3, this one's for you.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378 @godhelpthisbtch

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @sleepykittycx @immastealurkneecaps @star-yawnznn @maddie0101

@chi-raz @lori19 @wynnthewynnderful @redwinexsupernova @tiana-kh

@woaheasytig3r @canibeyourghoulfriend @lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey

@and-i-wish @jsudsgf @fullbelieverheart @wowzabowza69 @bonbonnie88

@pillowjj @barnes70stark @kamisobsessed @happyfxckinghorrors @deans-yn

@jofinka @allthetroubleiveseen

@dyhsversion @Laurakirsten0502 @megara0224 @funkenniffler @disappearintofanfiction

@kr804573

262 notes · View notes

heeseungiez · 3 months ago

Text

nothing i don’t have | pjs

part 1: the tall emo kid

pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader

summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.

genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)

word count! 1.5k

content warnings! swearing, jay is delulu and jealous

author's note! toenze is my new roman empire... i don't think i'll ever shut up about it. also realistically i'm only posting this bc yolo since i have nothing ???

masterlist | next

It didn’t affect Jay anyhow, really. That you ended whatever the two of you had for another guy. Like, this was all just casual. And you still wanted to be friends which was exactly what the two of you were before… so not much had to change between the two of you. Other than, well, the lack of physical intimacy.

He didn’t care, really. It wasn’t like you were the only girl he hooked up with (you were) or that he couldn’t get any other girls, but… you ending the situationship was kind of exactly why he liked you. Because you understood everything was casual and there were no expectations, no feelings. The others, they always got attached.

And, look, Jay understood that maybe he was being too nice or whatever, but it was in his nature to help out when necessary, or to cook for people in the morning — it wasn’t like he made breakfast only for those girls anyway. He had roommates to feed, too.

You ended the deal because you had no feelings for him. Which was exactly what he wanted. So why the fuck did it bother him so much? And for Huening Kai, no less? The tall emo kid that barely spoke and people thought he was being mysterious or whatever.

What could you possibly see in him?

What did he have that Jay didn’t?

Jay let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes still fixated on the conversation between you and him. So Huening Kai asked you out. And you liked him enough to say yes. That was certainly not on his bingo card. Realistically, he thought the type of guys you liked were someone like Sung Hanbin or Choi Soobin or… him. Not Huening Kai.

What the hell?

“What’s up? Someone steal your cat?” Heeseung entered the shared living room with a grin. Jay had to dryly laugh at the irony of his question since, in a way, yes.

“Nah. It’s Y/N,” Jay replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wants to be just friends.”

“Damn, got tired of you already?” Heeseung teased, but he knew not to go further when Jay’s scathing glare nearly burned him. “What did she say?”

“Huening Kai asked her out and she said yes.” Jay shook his head. You and Kai weren’t even dating yet, and you already wanted to be exclusive with him? Why? Who even does that?

“Oh, Kai? He’s got music classes with me,” Heeseung said with a grin. “He knows how to play like five instruments. He’s kinda cool. A band kid, too. Pretty sure he has a band.” Jay didn’t need to know any of that. Not yet anyway. And then Heeseung added: “I think he was planning to ask Y/N out for a while. I caught him asking around about her once.”

Jay clenched his jaw. How long had you been talking to Kai before he asked you out? Was it out of nowhere or did you befriend him before? Which gave him another reason to be upset because if you did befriend him before, you didn’t tell Jay anything. In fact, you hadn’t been telling him anything about yourself or your life for a while now.

Which stung.

“Kai’s a good guy. You should be happy for her.” Heeseung made a point, giving Jay a long, meaningful look. There was more he wanted to express, but chose to not push his limits.

Jay huffed.

Thinking about it, maybe he’d have actually preferred it if you were in love with him.

Upon entering the Sanctuary Café, you noticed that it was already packed. But you were instantly recognised by Taehyun, who greeted you with a bright smile and led you toward a table that was empty, save for your reservation. It was in front of the stage set up for live performances, and it occurred to you then that Kai’s surprise was very likely just that. He prepared a performance for you.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the stage. It had a full instrument set up for a band. Drums, bass, keyboard and an electric guitar. The sight of it made you think of Jay for a bit, but you shook your head and got rid of the thought.

This would be your first date with Kai. The boy who actually doesn’t only want to sleep with you, but also wants to do everything else that real relationships include. Like holding hands and hugging in public and being affectionate without being judged. (The things you wished you could’ve had from Jay.)

A group of three guys entered the stage, none of which were Huening Kai. They glanced toward your table every now and then with a knowing smile, though. You watched them set up their instruments — the guitarist, the bassist and keyboardist. But the drums were empty.

Because of course, he knew how to play the drums. He was a genius that never flaunted his skills, and the reality of it hit you just now. Huening Kai was a drummer — which was actually sexy as hell.

“Hello, everyone, welcome to the Sanctuary Café,” the guitarist spoke into the microphone with the largest smile. He had a cute dimple as well, and you thought he perfectly fit Kai — whenever he wasn’t closing in on himself. “I’m Kim Taerae, lead singer and guitarist of our band, Toenze. We’ve prepared a very special performance today because one of our members wants to dedicate it to a special girl.”

A round of awes went through the crowd. You looked around in hopes of catching a glance of Kai, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, your eyes locked with a person you did not expect to see today — at all.

Jay stood at the back of the café with Heeseung by his side, and you wished you could unsee him. Your heartbeat raced, and your mind felt like you needed to come up to him and apologise. But what would you even be apologising for?

“On my left is our bassist, Choi Beomgyu, and on the keyboard, you’ve got Han Yujin. And, of course, we’re missing a key member — the drummer,” Taerae spoke lightly, his smile hearable in his voice. “Some of you already know him from our previous performances, but for those who have yet to meet him — please give a round of applause to Huening Kai!”

Kai wasn’t even inside the café. He entered through the main door in a dark grey hoodie, the hood covering his face. The whole shop held its breath as he looked up. And when his eyes met yours, a smile spread across his lips. Taking off his hood, he revealed his face and carefully styled bangs.

From the pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a bouquet, and when he aimed through the crowd toward you, your heart nearly melted. All thoughts of Jay being here, too, evaporated from your mind. All you could think about was Huening Kai, looking beautiful as ever, heading toward you with a bouquet of flowers.

“For you, my lady.” He knelt down to hand you the flowers, and you stared at him with wide eyes. Grinning, he winked before standing up and heading toward the stage, leaving you absolutely flustered and frozen in place.

“Hello, everyone! This performance is dedicated to the girl that didn’t reject me. It’s for you, Y/N,” he said into the mic jokingly, but there was a hidden meaning behind his words.

The memory of how he asked you out lingered, and you giggled. You could still picture him, approaching you with his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans. And then he asked you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if you were dating Jay. The smile that spread on his lips when you said that what you had with Jay was only casual was an unforgettable sight, really.

“I can make you forget him,” was Kai’s closing argument, and the confidence with which he had said it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t possibly reject him then.

Jay’s glare was palpable. You could feel it at the back of your neck, but you ignored him. Why was he glaring at you anyway? If there were no feelings involved, he shouldn’t care about any of this.

“The first song we prepared for today is called Higher Than Heaven,” Taerae informed the crowd. “And the second song is Kill the Romeo. Hope you guys like them!”

Both songs were amazing, and both conveyed one pretty clear message: I’m better than him. You couldn’t help but laugh and enjoy yourself while Kai’s band performed. They were good — really good. And eventually, you even stopped sensing Jay’s gaze burning through you.

Naturally, you turned around to check on the spot where Jay had previously been. Except he wasn’t there. Instead, you were met with Heeseung, who shrugged when he noticed you looking at him.

“He left,” Heeseung mouthed.

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #park jongseong fic #park jongseong x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #park jongseong #enhypen jay #haia writes

199 notes · View notes

gingerteafairy · 2 months ago

Text

𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙥 (𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙝𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Rodrick tries to get your attention, even if he had to cosplay of your non canon otp.

tags n warnings: fluff, nerdy!reader, death note references, cosplay, suggestive, perv!rodrick, shy!reader. word count: 1.5k

Rodrick Heffley sort of hated you.

Okay, not really. It wasn’t that Rodrick hated you—you weren’t fake or mean, or some weirdo who would make him cringe. You were just... well, weird. He’d totally clocked that you had a crush on him after, like, a minute. It was obvious.

The blushes when he walked by, the borderline embarrassing comments on his Instagram—it was like a neon sign. But you were cute. Annoyingly cute. With your big sunshine smiles, dorky jokes, and all that awkward eye contact whenever you bumped into each other at school.

He gave you hell about being “weird.” But he liked it. Actually, loved it. This perv already pictured you in dozens of sexual scenarios with imaginary reactions he’d love to see. Like, would you be all shy when he took off his clothes or would you laugh if you got into some creative position? Would your glasses be foggy? He really wanted to see you with nothing but your glasses on.

You were just a girl giggling at his Instagram posts. His story, of course, featured him slumped on a museum bench, arms crossed, staring at some abstract painting like it had personally offended him. The caption? “Modern art is dead. Let me out.”

You knew better than to expect a sweet reply. It was either ghosting or snarky comebacks. Spoiler alert—you got the snarky reply.

But seeing him in person? Still the worst thing ever.

Which is exactly why you froze when you spotted him one afternoon, sitting lazily on the steps of his front porch. He looked perfectly disheveled in his black metal band shirt, one leg stretched out, his back leaned casually against the doorframe. Like a damn indie rock album cover.

Your brain screamed nope, but your feet had already carried you halfway past his house before—

"Hey, dorky.”

Rodrick’s voice broke through your panic like a needle to a balloon. You skidded to a halt, eyes wide. Slowly, you turned, clutching the strap of your bag for dear life.

“Hey…” you squeaked, adjusting your glasses.

Rodrick smirked, pushing off the steps. “You think I’m a ghost or something? You walk past here like I don’t exist.”

Your cheeks burned. “I—uh—I didn’t see you.”

“Totally believable.” Rodrick’s smirk grew. “You said you bought a Misa costume, remember? Wig and everything. And also the whole limited edition of the dolls and stuff.”

You blinked, horrified and excited at the same time.“I—I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tilted his head, hands shoved in his pockets.

“I don't know…”

“Relax. It’s kinda sick, actually.” His gaze flicked over you like he was sizing you up. “You’d look good as Misa.”

“Really?” you jumped, clapping your hands. “I'll dress up like her everyday and I already bought her necklace.”

“You’re so awkward,” he teased, voice softer. “C’mon. What’s the rush? You’re always running past here like I’m gonna bite. Unless…”

You stared at him, unsure if your heart was about to stop or explode. “Unless…?”

“Unless you would like to get bitten by me.”

Your face turned scarlet. “Why…Why do you…?”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, turning back toward the house. “You’re impossible. I was gonna invite you in, but whatever. Get home safe.”

And with that, he disappeared inside, leaving you standing in the street, cheeks flushed, completely stunned. He just landed on the floor, stomping his head on the wall.

“Shit. I wanna see her in that outfit.” He cried out with his cheeks beet-red.

“She's so cool. Did you know she draws like a pro?" Greg cheered, watching you make your steps to your home, still confused.

“yourusername? She gave me pokemon cards for free in her parents store when I told my mother that I loved pokemon! A limited one. Pew peww.” Rowley exclaimed happily, stepping back when Rodrick stood up with a murderous look. “Uh-oh.”

Then he remembered, stopping him from the possible child murder. Only himself knew the cutie clumsy patootie you were, which made him giggle to the ground, curling his hands on the hem of his shirt.

“Ewww.” Greg hissed, frowning.

“I think your brother likes her.” Rowley smiled, walking to Greg's room, who was totally disgusted by the sight of his brother lifting his toe like a little girl.

The next week, someone invited Rodrick to a costume party. Sure, the music was decent, and someone brought a vintage vinyl player, which kept him from leaving immediately. The worst part is that you didn't come. “Socialization fear, Rod. Not my thing”. By midnight, he was leaning against a wall, phone in hand. Grinning when he saw you post you in your Misa outfit.

yourusername: “Dressing as my queen >o<.”

He wasn’t even sure why he posted a photo of himself dressed as L from Death Note. Maybe out of boredom. Maybe because he hoped you’d see it.

rodrickrockslodediper: justice will prevail.

Cheesy as hell. But effectively, you have seen it in a minute.

“God, you look so perfect.”

The message was simple—too simple for you. No silly emojis, no teasing lines. For some reason, that made him pause. And then, before he could talk himself out of it, he did something impulsive: he called you.

The line clicked after just two rings. “What the—Rodrick?”

He smirked at the sound of your flustered voice. “Didn’t think you’d answer so fast.��

“You called me,” you sputtered, nearly knocking over everything on your desk, your glasses almost broke on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Party’s boring.” His voice was low and smooth, a little breathless. “Some kid thought I was Steve Jobs.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god. That’s so tragic.”

“Yeah, laugh it up, Misa Misa.” He hesitated, voice softening just slightly. “I wish you were here.”

Click.

And just like that, his status went offline before you even had time to reply. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, walking away from the party like he’d just dropped a bomb, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

"What the heck was that?!" you exclaimed, staring at your phone like it had grown a second head. Rodrick Heffley called to say he wanted you to be with him? That couldn’t be real.

And yet, the disbelief hit even harder when your doorbell rang. You opened the door, and there he was—smudged eyeliner and messy dark shadow to fake L’s signature tired look. Meanwhile, you were fully dressed as Misa Amane. What even was this situation?

"Good thing I made it before you ditched the cosplay," he said with a lopsided grin, still catching his breath. He had run to your house. Rodrick Heffley, running. For you.

You stood frozen, like a deer caught in headlights. Say something! Come on, say something! your brain screamed.

"Uh… Let’s... let’s go inside, Lawliet. I, uh… I have candy!" you stammered in a sweet tone, fumbling over the words. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Rodrick burst out laughing, loud and unfiltered, before slapping a hand over his mouth, trying to keep it cool. But the faint pink tint on his face gave him away. He couldn’t believe how adorable you looked, trying so hard to pull off Misa.

"What’s so funny?" you mumbled, shifting your weight awkwardly, your face heating up even more.

"Nothing..." he snorted, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as his laughter died down. "Can I come in?"

"I… My parents… They’re, uh, kinda strict about guys being here," you muttered, cringing at how childish you sounded. Why did your parents have to be like this now of all times?

Rodrick clicked his tongue and shrugged. "Oh...Okay." But then he shot you that goofy, lopsided grin again, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a little shy.

"What?" you asked, giggling softly as you played with a lock of your blonde wig.

He shook his head, made a finger-gun motion with his hand, and turned to leave. But just as he took a step, he paused, spun back around, and said, "You know I like you, right?" His voice was casual, but his eyes told a different story.

"Stop messing with me…" you mumbled, barely above a whisper. Your heart was pounding in your chest. But instead of laughing, he stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before cupping your face gently. His eyes locked with yours, and for a second, the world seemed to stand still.

Then, he leaned in and gave you the softest, quickest kiss on the lips.

"Not messing with you, Misa," he said, dropping into L’s signature monotone. You couldn’t help it—you laughed so hard, your shoulders shook.

"Hey, no fair using my OTP!" you pouted, crossing your arms, but he just smirked and kissed you again.

"I’ll use whatever it takes to get you to notice me, nerd," he teased, his voice warm and playful. Then, with one last grin, he stepped back and turned to leave.

You stood there in the doorway, heart racing, watching Rodrick Heffley walk away like you’d just stepped out of the last scene of a shoujo anime.

#rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #imagine #diary of a wimpy kid fanfiction #greg heffley #rowley #death note #death note cosplay #misa amane

104 notes · View notes

nellielsss · 8 months ago

Text

⤜♡→ ɯҽʅƈσɱҽ ԋσɱҽ, ԃαɾʅιɳɠ!

Summary: something soft and sweet... you've missed him, & he's missed you! Give him a big, welcome home kiss; it'll take all that stress away! Note: pure fluff! I've been stressed out recently and I need some comfort. IB by Plastic off the Sofa by Beyoncé. I also kinda went overboard on Toji's bit. This shall also be edited later on, I just wanted to post it immediately so I could go to bed 💀 IT'S ALSO 11.3K WORDS SOO Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro CW: lewd jokes (kinda)

╰┈➤ Work... so, so much work. It's like the jobs are never-ending! After Toji Zen'in decided to take up some more work in order to provide for your guys' future and the lifestyle you deserved, the amount of jobs that he's taken up has increased tenfold. Even he, a man who was in peak, even superhuman physical condition, had his limits. The number of jobs he's ground out has to be in the double digits (and not some puny number in the tens). After the 21st job, he gave up on keeping count. He was able to justify the grueling workload, though, because of you. You were his everything, the reason for doing what he did (which included living), and he'd be damned if he couldn't spoil his future wife like he wanted.

Finally, he had earned enough to satisfy his unrelenting need to provide for you after he closed up on his last and biggest mission yet: a job that took 3 days and paid him over 48 million yen (~300,000 USD). It was enough to last the two of you for the rest of the year and then some. The man breathed a sigh of relief when he got the bank notification on his cellphone, and he said to himself: "a job well done, Zen'in." He even smiled in public a little bit at the sight of it. He then put the phone in his pant pocket and went on his merry way back home to you.

You, meanwhile, were in the living room of your shared apartment, fixing up a little celebratory dinner. He'd told you about how this was the last night he was gonna come home late, how this was the last job that would keep you apart, how he was gonna take you on an all expenses paid shopping trip the minute you had time to go with him to Shibuya. You knew he had certain sacrifices to make, given the fact that neither of you had much money when you started dating, and that was why you never chose to complain.

But that didn't mean that you didn't miss him.

You missed his touch, you missed his tender kisses, the way that he held you close as if he was afraid of you being stolen from him by some unseen force, and you sure as shit missed all the nights spent together in each other's company watching shitty movies & UFC fights.

The way he tilted your chin up to make you kiss him, the way the words "pretty" and "doll" rolled right off his tongue, the way he looked at you like you were god's gift to this shitty world...

All of a sudden, you heard the door swing open with the sounds of the rain pitter-pattering outside of the balcony entrance. You knew he was coming home earlier tonight, but you didn't know he'd be home that early!

"Princess?" his gruff voice called out from the door. He closed the door behind him and dropped his robust duffel bags next to the door, letting out another sigh of happiness. He looked up at the ceiling lamp before looking back in front of him, and he outstretched his arms the moment he saw you coming from down the hallway. "Princess," he repeated, a soft smile growing across his face as you jumped into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your neck.

"Toji!" You exclaimed into his black sweater, breathing in his natural smell... and he smelled just like home. He always managed to smell good, even when his job involved less-than-ideal activities. "I missed you," was what you finally said after the two of you took in each other's presence.

"Missed you too," he hummed, craning his head to look down at you. "God, I've missed you... missed you so much, baby." His mind was so swamped with work, he had forgotten what a beauty he held in his arms. After he took a few moments to admire you, his sense of smell brought him back to reality, and he could smell his favorite meal from the kitchen. "Is that... offal meat I smell?" he asked, looking at the kitchen and then back at you.

"It sure is," you replied excitedly, making his smile grow even wider.

"Princess, did you really make my favorite?" he asked to which you nodded and giggled. "You didn't have to, baby," he replied, ruffling your hair gently with his big hand.

You pulled away from his embrace and he pouted instinctively, not wanting you to go anywhere just yet. "I didn't know when you were coming home, so it's not ready just yet." He watched the sexy sway of your hips before catching up to you, not wanting to leave his princess by herself after just seeing her again.

"I don't mind," he replied, following you into the kitchen. He stood behind you as you continued prepping it and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "I thought you didn't like it, though?"

"I still don't," you corrected him, "but I just figured that, with how tired from work you must be, you'd enjoy it."

He continued smiling down at you and placed his lips on your head. "You really are the best, y'know?" he muttered in between crown kisses.

"I know," you replied coolly, as if you didn't just make his favorite meal.

"Still cocky as ever, I see," he quipped, making you giggle again.

"Go ahead and sit down on the couch. It won't be ready for another ten minutes, and you must be exhausted from all this work." You looked over your shoulder at him, only to see that he wasn't budging. "Toji, I'm serious! I know you're the big, bad 'sorcerer killer' and whatever else you might be, but even you need to take a break every now and then. I don't want you throwing your back when you're still in your prime!"

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head, hiding his face in your neck. "Don't wanna; not when I've got the best thing in the world right in my arms, and who's to say I'm reaching my end soon? I'm just getting started, sweetness," he replied with a confident grin. You didn't say anything in response, instead grabbing him by the hand and dragging him to the couch. "Princess..."

"Just sit down already, you stubborn brute," you muttered under your breath. "Sit down, and let me take care of you for once. Just rest your feet and wait 'til I'm done making dinner, okay?"

He didn't say anything, instead crossing his arms over his chest like an impotent teenager. "Fine, fine... I guess I'll relax for a 'lil. Now go on, don't let the meat burn."

"I'll make sure it's cooked to perfection, you big baby," you reassured him. He cracked a little smile and watched you walk off, going to finish the meal that you'd cooked especially for his return from work. He guessed it wasn't too bad to let you take the reins every once in a while... he was always the one bringing home the dough, making dinner for the two of you, and making sure that your pretty little face didn't have a single stress line or brow furrow on it.

He kicked up his feet on the wooden coffee table and patiently waited for you to finish. He wasn't exactly used to relaxing and lounging around when you were doing stuff; he was always the one taking care of his sweet baby.

So, he looked around at the apartment the two of you shared. His green eyes scanned over everything, from the framed portraits to the color palette you used for the living room. He grabbed a nearby photo of the two of you, and he couldn't help but smile: it was a photo of you two at an ice skating rink. He remembered that day so, so fondly, the memory of you helping him learn making his heart swell with affection and joy.

You looked so effortlessly cute in that little knitted beret of yours, and the matching grey & pink Burberry cape & skirt combo only made you look even cuter. A stark contrast to his usual all-black or grey ensembles, but in your eyes, the contrast only made him hotter in your eyes.

The two of you were just so different, and yet; you were perfect for one another. You went together like jam and toast, with you being the oh-so sweet strawberry jam that he couldn't get enough of.

Oh, how he loved ravishing you any chance he could get. The feeling of your soft, untainted & supple skin against his scars; your soft chest squished against his hard one; the way your plush thighs expanded when he bent your knees to your chest...

He was just so incredibly in love with you that coming home to you and bringing you flowers was the highlight of his day.

After all, ou were the one who showed him how to love. You were the one who restored his faith in humanity, and you were the one who made him feel like he was more than Zen'in trash.

You were a paladin sent from heaven, and he'd rip apart anyone with his bare claws if they tried to take you away from him. He'd tear the throat & heart out of the people who so much as even thought about doing so.

Because, you... you were home to him.

"It's readyyy!" you sang from the kitchen, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Coming, princess," he called out to you, getting off the sofa and sauntering over to the dining table. It was laid out beautifully, the fine china he stole obtained from a client and the silverware he also stole making everything just perfect.

"Doll..." he walked over to you, wrapping his big arms around you and cradling you close. "You didn't have to do all of this for me, y'know?"

"I know; just wanted to make you feel appreciated, was all." You flashed him a bright smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat. That smile... fuck, he could just devour you for dinner and skip all this other stuff.

"Even so much as looking in my direction makes me feel appreciated, baby, but I appreciate the dinner regardless." He pulled you in close and pressed some kisses along your spine, inhaling your scent like you were the oxygen needed for him to live. "God.... god, god, god--I don't even know what I did to deserve you, baby. You're the best fuckin' woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You don't have to do anything but love me, Toji," you whispered back, a rare moment of vulnerability shining through. "You love me more than any man ever has, and for that I cannot repay you. All you have to do is protect me and maybe give me a couple kisses, though."

His eyes widened and closed slightly, his mind registering the ambrosia of your words. "Doll... you're gonna make me cry over meat, y'know?"

"Oh, Toji," you giggled, grabbing either side of his face. "Try not to cry over the offal; it'l make it soggy and gross."

"You're right, you're right," he conceded, taking his place at the table. He took a bite of the meal that you so graciously prepared for him, and his eyes widened--it was like the food came straight from heaven. "This is... delicious, doll. How the hell did you make it so tender?"

"You think so? I'm not much of a cook, but I'll take the compliments regardless," you giggled. "So, now that you have work off for the rest of the year, where are we headed off to? Kyoto? Okinawa?" you asked in between bites, finding the meat surprisingly good yourself. "I've got a vacation lined up soon, perhaps we could get out of Tokyo for a little while.

"Hm... a vacation would be nice," he pondered for a moment. "But, if we're talking about a vacation after I just got my big pay day, you might wanna think bigger than just Japan, baby," he retorted with a sly grin.

"Paris?" you asked sarcastically.

He didn't say anything, instead smiling at you knowingly. You quickly realized that he wasn't joking around with you. "Toji... Toji!" you repeated, jumping up from your seat and hugging him. "You're taking me to Paris?! Oh my god, I just love you, Toji!"

"Only the best for my princess," he chuckled. "Figured I'd spoil ya with my little check. I don't gotta work for the rest of the year, so we can plan according to your schedule, baby. I'm thinking after Paris, we can go to Rome, too."

You looked at him again, a satisfied smile gracing your gorgeous features. "I am so gonna suck your dick," you sighed, making him burst out in laughter

"I was gonna give it to ya with no strings attached, but, hey; I'm not stopping ya!"

Curiosity got the better of you, and you had to ask: "but, if you've already got it planned, then... how'd you know I'd have the weeks off?"

He shrugged. "Just a sixth sense. May have pulled a few strings here and there, but it's no biggie."

"Wait, that was you who got me the time off? No wonder it was for 3 weeks; I usually never get a vacation!"

"Baby, you already know I'd do anything for you. I've dealt with way more stressful situations than talking to your boss, so it really was nothing for me." By the way he said it, you could just tell that he was being serious. The man's an assassin--if he wanted something done, he'd get it done.

You continued to eat your food only you smiled at him the entire time. "Paris... I've never been to Paris before," you sighed dreamily. "I've always wanted to go there since I was little."

"Well, now's your chance," Toji hummed. "The city of love with your love, does it get any better than that?"

You put your chopsticks down and smiled brightly at him. "No, it really doesn't." You leaned in, pressing a nice, big kiss to his cheek. You were about to pull away when he pulled you back in, clearly demanding more.

"Nah, don't gimme those cheek kisses; kiss me on the lips like I'm your boyfriend," he demanded, making you laugh again. He pulled you in by the waist, plopped you on his lap, and all but smothered your face in a big, sloppy kiss. "Baby, I gotta tell ya," he murmured in between smooches, "and I know I've told you this a lot," even more kisses, "but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't even know what possessed you to pick me, but I am one lucky bastard... good god, woman, why do your lips taste so fucking good?"

"It's the taste of love," you murmured. Normally, he would've recoiled at how mushy your words were, but every ounce of mush made him hungrier for more.

"Whatever it may be... I want more of it. Order up!" he joked, making you giggle yet again. "C'mon, let's finish this meal up so we can get to the good part: the cuddles."

"You don't wanna have sex?" you asked with a furrowed brow.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm kinda tired. I know we have it every night we're together, but I'm wiped from all the work. Let's just cuddle, yeah? I don't mean to disappoint you or anything, baby..."

You put a hand on his cheek and rubbed it soothingly. "You're not disappointing me; you could never disappoint me. I was just a little confused, but it's alright. We can cuddle." Your hand subconsciously rubbed the scar on his lip, and he couldn't help but smile at you.

"You're the best, sweetheart," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"Ahh," Toji sighed as he laid down on the bed next to you, "this is just what I needed, sweet stuff." He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, wrapping his big arms around your body.

You were currently laying down on your shared bed when he finally made his way into the bedroom. Toji had to take a quick shower before he could engage in any sort of cuddles with you, due to the fact that he smelled like blood and bones. He threw on a sweater over his still-damp body and immediately got into bed with you.

"C'mere, big boy," you said giddily, "and gimme some love."

"You don't have to tell me twice." After a few seconds of kissing, his hands roamed around your body and went up your shirt.

"Didn't you tell me that you didn't wanna have sex?" you asked jokingly, your eyebrow raised.

"I just wanna touch my woman, not touch her like that," he quipped to which you giggled and kissed him again.

"I know, I know. I just felt like teasin' ya," you hummed, booping his sharp nose with the tip of your finger. He merely shook his head and continued kissing you, the scar on his lip tickling your own lips. Still, you welcomed that tickle--for that tickle represented how tough and strong Toji was. It was funny how something so small could have such a huge effect on the man, for where Toji saw a remnant of his weakness and his disgusting past, you saw his bravery and his courageousness. It was like a trophy in your eyes, a shiny, gold object that you couldn't help but admire.

It was a damn shame he couldn't see it the way you did.

But why would he? It did represent the ugliness of the Zen'in clan, the clan that abused him and took him for granted. So, instead of starting a debate over a scar of all things; you decided to remind him of his worth in a way that wouldn't stir up bad memories for him.

"Toji, my big, handsome baby," you started, your lips moving from his to his cheek.

"Hmmm? What is it, my sweet, beautiful princess?"

You kissed a trail from his cheeks and to the bridge of his nose. "I just... can't help but admire you, y'know?"

He quirked an eyebrow (which you kissed) and looked at you more intently. "Elaborate."

"You're just such a strong man, both physically and mentally. You care for me in ways no man ever has before, and you cradle me to your heart as if I'd shatter if dropped." After kissing his eyebrow (which he still found odd), you moved his bangs out of the way and kissed his forehead several times.

"Now you're just butterin' me up, doll," he chuckled with a light pink blush.

"You're incredible, y'know?" you murmured, "an incredible man, so worthy of my respect and love... you look at me like I'm the Earth and you're the Moon."

"That's because you are, baby," he muttered.

You simply smiled at him and continued kissing him. "You've had a rough life, but you're still here; you're stronger, if anything. You're resilient in ways I could only dream of being."

By this point, Toji had gone silent, the sudden rush of emotions making him stop talking. He didn't wanna start crying in the middle of your little trail of kisses, after all.

"Do you know how much I love you, Toji?" this time, instead of continuing to kiss him, you pulled back and looked at him.

He nodded silently.

"I love you more than anything, baby. I love you more than... well, I honestly can't think of anything that comes close to you in terms of love."

"Baby-" he choked up, his voice cracking slightly.

"You don't have to speak, Toji. Just hold me and let me tell you how much I love you, 'kay? You've had a rough week, so just sit back, relax, and let me take care of you." You pressed another kiss to his nose and smiled at him.

He nodded, going back to silence. Your lips moved from his nose to his lips, and you pressed a special kiss to where his scar was. His eyes widened, knowing good and well what you were doing. You didn't have to tell him; you just had to kiss him in that special spot--the spot which was the bane of his existence.

A few more kisses to the scar, and you pulled back again. "I love you, Toji... I love you, love you, love you, love you, love youu, I love you..." the little whispers of your love came out of your lips like a never-ending stream in spring, like a waterfall after a rainstorm. With each "I love you," Toji felt himself being pushed to the brink of losing it.

You, the ever-vigilant girl that you were, picked up on this quite easily. It was easy to tell when he was on the brink of breaking down, especially since he tried to hide his gaze and the quiver of his lip. So, you gave him the go ahead: "go on, Toji, cry your heart out."

And so he did. He buried his face within the crook of your neck and started crying, his entire body being wracked with emotion. You sat up on the bed and got into a more comfortable position so that he could be soothed.

"C'mon, Toji, just let it out. I'm never gonna judge you for anything; not a single thing, do you hear me?" you whispered into his ear. He nodded and simply wrapped his entire body around yours. He was twice the size of you; but right now, he felt like the littlest man on Earth. He felt like the little Zen'in boy who was cast aside and tossed into a pit of horrors; like the young man who found himself on the brink of homelessness; like the scared & scarred lost soul.

He may have been scarred, but right now, he wasn't scared, nor was he lost.

He was home.

"I f-fucking love you, princess," he managed to choke out in between sobs, his head slightly craned up to look at you through his tears. "D-Do you hear me? If I ever lose you--if I ever hurt you-"

"You needn't think about that right now, Toji. Just cry, baby. Cry all the tears you've been bottling up, and let me pick up the pieces after you're done."

He nodded, burying his face into your torso and crying his eyes out. The pink sweater which you had on was now wet and damp from all the crying, but that could be fixed with a simple dry. Right now, you were focused on your boyfriend.

"I'll always be here to pick up the pieces."

╰┈➤ Overtime could be such a pain, especially for Kento Nanami. Seriously: the thought of spending his entire day (the time after 6 PM) fighting a bunch of ugly, hideous curses who did nothing but attack and kill innocent people was more repulsive than the curses themselves. At least, while he was dating you, his sweetheart. You were everything to Nanami. In his eyes, you were a lighthouse in a dangerous ocean filled with stormy waters and jagged rocks that tore apart the boats that passed through the area; you were iced lemonade on a hot summer day; you were an angel sent from heaven itself to heal his past troubles and give him a much needed break.

This day was no different. Kento was in severe need of some comfort, and he looked to you for help. Normally, he wouldn't dump all his trouble on you, but it was growing to be way too much for him.

"Ugh... so tired..." the blonde man said to himself. He grabbed the Rolex watch that you gifted him for your anniversary and checked the time: 5:53 PM. Just 7 short minutes, and he'd be able to go back home to you.

Time never seemed to go by as fast as it did when he wanted it to, nor did it go by as slow as when he wanted it to. It was like his workdays were 10 hours long, and the time he spent with you was 1.

"Hey, Nanamiiiin~!" the oh-so annoying voice of Satoru Gojo, his "coworker," perked up.

"Why are you always here at the worst times?"

"You're always so mean, do you ever lighten up?" the white-haired man pouted before settling into a chair next to him. He relaxed into it and stretched his long legs out. "Sooo, Nanamin, you got any plans for after work?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you... wanna tell me 'bout em?"

"No, I don't."

"Aw, come on! You're not making this any easier for me," Gojo whined, rolling around in the chair.

"That's because I don't want to."

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and pouted again, looking around for something to do. "Neither of us wanna be here so late, anyway--and we both wanna go home. Why not a little bit of small talk with your favorite before we head out?"

"You're not my favorite; Itadori is, but fine, I'll humor you." He grabbed his wallet and opened it up, showing Gojo a photo of you. "My after work plans are to pick up some flowers on the way home & head home to my wife."

Gojo looked at the photo for a few seconds before chuckling a bit. "Yeah, that checks out. I mean, if I was in a relationship, I'd also wanna head home ASAP. Think I could help you pick those flowers out?"

"No, you don't know what kind of flowers she likes."

"Hmph." He pouted once again.

Nanami grabbed the wallet and smiled at it softly for a few seconds. "She likes peonies and irises..." he trailed off. Gojo didn't say anything, instead smiling at his adoration for you. The clock finally hit 6, and Nanami sprang up from his chair, grabbed his belongings, and sped off home. "Have a good rest of your day, Satoru," he called over his shoulder.

"You too, Nanamin," he replied softly.

"I wonder what's taking him so long," you hummed to yourself over your dinner plate. You were currently seated at the dining table of your shared apartment, the one that you bought after getting married 2 years ago. You looked around at everything, at the life that the two of you had built after so many years of dating, engagement & marriage.

Like the couch that Nanami had brought with him when you were moving in together. It was a cream leather couch--nothing special or amazing, but it was a moniker of your relationship's progress.

Or the hardwood table that sat next to it. It was one of the many things that the two of you had purchased when you were buying furniture for the apartment.

It wasn't just the material possessions that were markers of your progress: the photos of the two of you that hung on the walls; the little souvenirs you picked up in places like Malaysia; and the stuff you bought at flea markets were markers of such.

"He's never late... he's always home at 6:20," you pouted. "He's not... no, what am I thinking? He's been late before."

Just as you'd said those words, you heard the door unlock, and your head swiveled in the direction of the sound.

"Honey? I'm home!" he called out. He loosened his tie and took it off, and then he took his blazer off and hung it up on the wall. He was met by the sight of you walking towards him, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

"Welcome home, darling!" You enthused, throwing your arms around your beloved's shoulders and kissing him. Your hug was cushioned by the flowers which crinkled under the compression, and you looked down at it. "Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn't see those there--are they for me?"

"Who else would they be for?" he retorted, making you smile.

"Well... I guess you're right!" You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek again. You took his blazer and put it in his closet, and then you returned to his awaiting arms. "How was work?"

"The same," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Satoru was bothering me, as per usual, and I didn't have any more missions than usual. It was really quite boring."

"Well, then, I'll make sure your evening's not boring," you promised him.

"They could never be boring with you."

Your smile widened in response. "Come, come; let's eat dinner before it gets cold, kay?" He nodded happily and followed you to the table, and he took his place beside you.

"You're always treating me so amazing, sweetheart," he sighed as he relaxed into the soft chair.

"It's just dinner," you said bashfully, waving your hand around.

"Even if it was just ramen, it was you made it for me, therefore it makes it all the more special."

"So, you're saying you want me to make us microwaved ramen?" you teased with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well... if you made it, I'd still eat it, yes."

You couldn't help but giggle, and he chuckled as well. "Don't worry; I'd never subject you to that kind of torment. If we're gonna be starting a family soon, then I'll need to hone my skills as a mother & make sure our kids will be well-fed!"

Ah, that's right: you were starting a family soon. There was a reason you looked for a 3-bed and not a 2-bed when you went apartment shopping. The mention of your future kids reminded him of all the names that the two of you mulled over. You were still finding the perfect ones, but you still had time to settle on them.

"Kento, eat up already! Don't let my hard work go to waste," you said as you picked up the katsu curry with your signature pink chopsticks. Even after becoming Mrs. (Y/N) Nanami, you still stayed true to your pink ways.

"Sorry, sorry. I wouldn't wanna tarnish my beautiful wife's handiwork; not even a little bit."

"It's just dinner," you reminded him, making him chuckle.

"You're right, you're right," he conceded. "Happy wife, happy life."

After dinner ended, and you tried to clean up both of your plates, Nanami stopped you. "Here, let me, sweetheart," he said before standing up.

"There's no need, Kento," you stopped him by putting your hand on his wrist. "You were at work all day; just sit back and let me handle all the heavy lifting."

He was about to protest when he saw the look in your eyes. Normally, he wouldn't let you lift a single finger; but he saw how determined you were to do this simple act of cleaning up the dirty dishes. He knew he had no choice but to let you have your way. Therefore, he sat back down at the table. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll let you do your thing," he nodded. "Just don't dirty up that shirt of yours."

You flashed him a smile and rolled the sleeves of your pink silk blouse up. "I wouldn't dream of it." You then grabbed the plates and made quick work of them in the sink & put them away in the dishwasher. Then, you returned to him and unfolded your sleeves again. "Now, then, what would my amazing & handsome & super sexy husband like to do now?"

His eyebrow raised the more adjectives you used to describe him. "Well, your husband would like to cuddle with his wife for a little bit. Would she like that?"

You nodded giddily, dragging him by the arm already. "Hurry up, slowpoke!" you quipped, making him chuckle again. He didn't say a word as you kicked off your heels & climbed onto the bed, taking extra time just to pose extra sexily for him. Your smile quickly dropped when he went to the dresser and started taking all of his stuff off. "Kento!" you whined as he took off his rolex.

"I don't want all this stuff making you uncomfortable while we cuddle," he retorted, bringing a gasp & a smile to your face.

"Fine, fine... just get over here the millisecond you finish."

And go over there he did. He kicked off his house shoes and finally stepped onto the bed where you patiently waited, and he pulled you into a nice, warm hug. "C'mere already, let me hug you," he muttered as he did so.

"I wouldn't dream of denying you," you sighed happily. He sank his lips & nose into the top of your head and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and perfume like a man who hasn't seen his partner after spending time apart.

"Do you know how much I love you, (Y/N)?" he asked you quietly, now looking down at you.

"You tell me everyday," you murmured contently.

"It's not enough... need to remind you every chance I get," he whispered, pressing several kisses to your scalp. "You don't know how important you are to me, sweetheart. You're one of the only good things of mine that are untouched, untainted by the hideous double life I live.

"Ken, don't think about that, hm? Matter of fact: if you wanna quit and leave that life behind, then you should. It's not good for you, or for us," you whispered with a tinge of sadness in your voice.

He looked off to the side, took a deep breath, and looked back at you. "One day, I will. It pays well, and it makes our dream lives much more attainable... we could go for ages without needing to work."

You smiled sadly at him and put your head back on his chest. "Whatever you need to do, I'll support you in it. Just... promise me it'll reach an endpoint, okay? I don't wanna see you struggle just to provide for us."

"I'll do anything for you, sweetheart. Even sacrifice myself just to do so. I'll fall if it means you can rise." You looked at him one last time before closing your eyes.

"Just be sure I can catch you when you fall, alright?"

╰┈➤ "Work... so much work..." the white-haired man's face fell into the equally white stack of papers which he had to grade. Satoru Gojo prided himself on being a good teacher, however, one of the pitfalls of being a teacher involved grading all these papers. It's not like he taught some boring subjects like history or--god forbid--algebra! But, even so, he hated this part of the job.

Being a teacher was a surprisingly rewarding job for the man. Even though he initially had no expectations outside of producing good sorcerers, he actually liked the job. He got to meet some amazing students & prodigies and, if he did a good job, then he'd create an amazing generation of future sorcerers!

But, part of that nurturing process was grading these stupid papers.

When he graded one paper, another 10 would appear. By the time he'd be done with these stacks of tests and assignments, then it'd be past midnight for him.

And he couldn't let his job cut into his relationship with you--not when he made a promise to never let you feel taken for granted.

Then again, he had deadlines and other, different responsibilities to fulfill.

"Gotta get through these papers, Satoru... don't wanna spend another day in this stupid office."

"Yoohoo!"

A voice appeared from behind Gojo and he almost jumped out of his seat and hollow purpled you. "(Y-Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?! Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack there!" He tried to pass off his initially embarrassing scare by laughing it off and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, Nanamin told me about how you'd been spending all this time cooped up in your office, and, since it's been cutting into our relationship time: I figured it'd do me some good to come and see you myself!" Before he could even respond, you pulled up a chair and sat next to your boyfriend.

"Pookie-bear, I don't want you to sacrifice your quality time for me," he retorted with a pout.

You rolled your eyes at his silly little nickname. "Every time you call me pookie-bear, it's almost impossible to take you seriously. Anyway, quality time is only quality time if I spend it with you or shopping, and shopping is never fun without you."

"It's because my wallet's limitless, isn't it?"

"Well... it never hurts you if your wallet's a bottomless pit of money, does it?" He couldn't exactly refute that statement, so he merely laughed.

"Alrighty, then. If that's how you really feel, then I suppose I can't exactly kick you out. But I must warn you, sugar-bear: it's gonna be really boring to sit around and grade all this stuff with me."

"Good thing I'm also a teacher," you giggled, scooching closer to him.

"Right, I forgot you're a teacher... probably because you teach a subject as lame as Japanese history!" he teased you, ruffling your hair.

"It's not lame--what do you even do, huh? Teach all this stupid stuff like 'cursed energy' which we've known since birth?! You might as well be teaching chemistry," you snarked back, effectively shutting him up.

"I'm so hurt!" he said dramatically, "my girlfriend thinks my subject matter isn't important..." he even put his hand on his forehead and pretended to die.

"Ate you up," you snickered, grabbing one of the stacks and looking at it. "Hmm... this stuff's not too hard to grade, but I can see why you've been cooped up in here since there's so much of it."

"Baby, I don't want you to die of boredom," Gojo whined, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. "Seriously, it's gonna make you look at me like I'm some sort of loser."

You scoffed and looked up at your boyfriend. "Satoru, it's fine. I can handle grading a couple of dumb papers. You most likely think that I'll die of boredom because of the number of papers you've graded on your own. You probably mistook the boredom as difficulty--so really, it's fine."

Gojo was now agape at your observation, given how spot on it was. "That's... exactly how I felt about it. Damn, baby, you're a smart one."

"Did you think I was dumb or something?"

"Well, no!"

"It's fine, it's fine--I'm just messin' with ya. If I was dumb, you probably wouldn't have liked me from the jump." You were already on your fifth paper by the time you were at this point in the conversation. "And, anyway, even if it is as boring as you say it is, then it'll be cut in half by my assistance. Then, we can go home, pick up some kikufuku, and then watch some stupid movie & go to bed in our new matching PJs. Now, doesn't that outweigh the boredom?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo pretended to think before he threw his hands up. "It does!"

You giggled and kissed his cheek. "I knew you were a smart one."

The two of you decided to focus on the papers and lock in so that you could get out of that room quicker. He wasn't lying; there was an immense amount of stuff that needed to be graded, and his inability to sit in peace didn't make it any easier for the two of you. He'd poke your sides, try to pull you into his lap, and almost fall asleep on your head.

"Satoru," you said in warning, "focus. If you want that kikufuku, then you'd better grade these things. We can play some music... actually, you'd probably get even more distracted."

"Aw, babe! I liked the idea of listening to music," he whined with his signature pout. "Ugh, why did I have to take up teaching!" He complained, putting his hands over his face.

"Because you make bad choices," you said while taking his hands off his face. "Now, put these fingers to good use-"

"Good use? I can think of more than a few-"

"Satoru!"

"Sorry..."

You took a deep breath. "As I was saying, put these hands to good use and keep grading, alright?" You even put your hands on the pencil he was holding and he solemnly nodded.

"Fine... only because you're asking me." He picked up his pen and started grading it again, and he actually managed to focus on his papers.

23... 24... 25...

32... 33... 34...

49... 50... 51...

Geez, how many students did he even teach?! It was actually beginning to look like he was reaching his limit with this grading effort. Many things in this world were limitless, and that included his papers

"(Y/N)-" he was about to ask if you guys were any close to being done when he looked at the number of papers that were left on the table.

They were almost gone.

"Oh," he said, rather unceremoniously. "They're... they're almost gone?"

"Hm?" you looked over at Gojo, confused as to why he was confused. "Yeah, they are. We graded them quite quickly, if you couldn't tell," you explained with a light smile on your face. "Just about 9 more, and then we can head home-"

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" he had to resist the urge to jump up from the table and run around the room, but he luckily had you to keep him in his seat.

"Easy there," you steadied him. "We still have nine to grade, so don't start celebrating just yet."

9... 8... 7...

6... 5... 4...

3... 2... 1...

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" this time, he was actually able to get out of his seat and stretch his legs. "Finally--we can go home!"

"Satoru, calm down! Don't wake up the students- hey!" He'd suddenly scooped you up off your chair and started running from the building. "I CAN WALK, Y'KNOW!!"

"Why would you need to when you're dating the strongest?!"

"This is way better than spending the rest of my days at that school," Gojo sighed while munching on his kikufuku. Naturally, he had to buy at least 9 boxes of it, just to satisfy his limitless appetite. You, a normal person, had only 2 of them.

"How do you stay in shape when you eat all that sugar and do nothing all day long?" you asked, looking at the empty boxes of sweets that he chowed down on.

"Because... my metabolism... is great!" he replied, his mouth full of the food. He swallowed all the food was in his mouth, then dove right back into his kikufuku. "Are you calling me fat, babe?" he asked, pouting at you slightly.

"Well... you're not fat; you just eat three times as much as I do."

"Well one of us has to eat! How else will these vendors stay in business?"

"Leave it to your limitless wallet and appetite," you sighed, deciding to enjoy the sweets for yourself. In the time that it took for you to finish your boxes, he had already eaten all 9 of his.

"Ahh, that sure hit the spot," Gojo sighed, settling back into his seat and stretching his long limbs out.

"I hope it did, since you ate 9 boxes," you muttered before stretching yourself. "Fuck, am I beat... maybe I should've heeded your advice and gone home instead of helping you."

He sat up a bit and looked at you through his messy white bangs. "But, if you didn't, then I'd still be at school, and you'd be all alone."

"I know, I know," you conceded, reaching out to move his bangs from his forehead. "I wouldn't have my handsome boyfriend keeping me company."

"Did you just call me handsome?" the smile on his face grew in size, and you couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Yeah, I did--because you're very handsome~"

"C'mere, you, and give your handsome boyfriend some sugar," he said giddily, already pulling you into his lap.

"You've already eaten enough sugar!" you protested as he pulled you in.

"I've got a sweet tooth, baby, and you're the sweetest thing I've ever sunk my teeth into." He finally had you where he wanted, and he couldn't resist the urge to literally latch onto you with his long limbs. "Mmm... I've missed you so much, sweet stuff. All those papers have been keeping you away from me, trying to steal me... well, guess what? A couple of dead trees have nothing on Satoru Gojo."

"Whatever you say, baby," you giggled into his chest. You simply sat there and let him do as he pleased, whether it be sniff your shampoo or give you a sweet kiss on the forehead. "Y'know what you said back there about me viewing you as a loser?"

He pulled back and looked at you. "Yeah, baby?"

"I just wanted to let you know that... there's nothing you could do that would make me view you as a loser. Even if your job may be boring at times, and even if you can sometimes act like a big baby, there's absolutely zero things that could skew my view of you. And you wanna know why that is?"

He was silent for a little bit before he realized you were asking him a question. "Yeah, I do wanna know."

You kissed him on the forehead, the cheeks & the nose, and then on the lips. "It's not because you're the strongest sorcerer; it's because you're the strongest person I know. You're more resilient than you think you are, at least mentally. You've been through so much in life, and you're still determined to build a better future for the Jujutsu world."

He was at a complete loss for words by what you were saying, the feeling of your hands on his cheeks a comforting warmth for him. "I... I don't even know what to say," Gojo's whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

You quickly realized that you might've gone a little overboard with the praises, and you let go of his face. "Shit, I'm sorry--I didn't upset you or anything, right?"

He put your hands back on his face and shook his head. "'s fine, I just didn't know where that came from, y'know? You started telling me how amazing I was out of nowhere."

Your smile softened and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I can't resist the urge to do so, y'know. You're just so amazing."

His shocked expression turned into a smile of his own, and he relaxed into your grip. "You're amazing too, baby. You don't view me as the strongest because of my power or my ability; you see past all that and you see the real me. And for that, I'm always gonna be the best and strongest boyfriend I can possibly be."

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Even if you're already the strongest, I'm gonna push you to be even stronger." You let him pull you in for a hug, and he enveloped you in his arms again.

"Did I ever tell you how amazing you are, (Y/N)? Because you deserve to hear it."

"You did, but you can always keep telling me, Satoru."

"Well, you're fucking incredible, sweets. If I ever forget to tell you of that, please just slap me on the face so I can be reminded."

"I'm not a fan of violence--at least not against my loved ones, but, if you say so!" The two of you giggled and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

"God, I love you. I seriously don't know where I'd be without you."

"Don't try to imagine it; just let yourself bask in the reality of your situation, 'kay?"

He nodded decisively and turned his focus back to you and your guys's current reality. "Why don't we make our reality a little bit sweeter and... relax on something much softer?"

By the time he asked you that, he'd already scooped you up bridal style and was carrying you into the bedroom. "Give a girl a moment to decide!"

"You were gonna say 'yes' anyway."

"You've got that right," you muttered before being plopped down onto the comforter. He then laid down next to you & wrapped his lanky arms, and legs, around your frame. Within only seconds, you were stuck in a prison made entirely of his limbs. "Are you sure this is comfortable for the both of us, or is it just comfy for you?"

"You don't want my cuddles?" he asked you into your hair.

"No, I do! I just don't wanna be imprisoned by you," you said into his chest.

"Fine, fine," he relented, untangling himself from you. He still kept his arms on you, though, and he refused to let go. The two of you were finally able to relax & bask in one another's presence, and it was a welcome reward for the long day of work.

"You wanna take a shower?-" When you looked up from where you laid, your boyfriend had already fallen asleep. His handsome face looked finally at peace, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "It's too bad I need to take a shower," you said under your breath, somehow able to disentangle yourself from his prison of cuddles.

"Don't go... need you here..." he said in his sleep, instinctively reaching out for you.

"I need to take a shower first, Satoru. And, while we're at it, you should probably change into some pajamas." Before you left the room to go shower, you peeled his jacket, work pants & undershirt, somehow getting him to make it easier for you. Then, you put on the matching set that the two of you had saw while surfing through the internet. "There we go. Isn't that much better?"

"Mm..." he mumbled into the pillow.

"I'll take that as a yes," you giggled softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before making your way out of the room to take that much needed shower.

When you returned from the bathroom with your hair washed & dried, you saw that he'd sunk even further into his little haven of pillows. You walked closer to him, a soft smile gracing your features once more, and you crawled into bed again.

"Hey, Toru," you murmured softly. "Did you miss me?"

"Too much..." he mumbled into the pillow. "Was waiting for you... can't sleep without you... y'know?"

"I know you can't," you giggled fondly. "Don't worry, though; I'm back, and I ain't going anywhere."

"Good... now, c'mere," he said, closing his eyes fully and pulling you into his warm embrace. He was warmer than any Kotatsu table that money could buy, sweeter than any kikufuku out there, and more amazing than Christian Dior.

Quite possibly the best part about sleeping next to Satoru was getting to see him at his most tranquil. You knew that he trusted you wholeheartedly, that he'd only ever open himself up fully to you. He entrusted you with his heart and soul, and you vowed to never let either one of those precious things get hurt. In reality, you were probably the only person who could hurt them in any capacity.

Satoru Gojo looked like an angel when he slept, with his snow white hair falling on the pillow and over his eyes, and the handsomest face you'd ever seen. Finally, after taking a good look at his face, you closed your eyes and cuddled closer to him.

"So ethereal when you're at peace."

╰┈➤ The job of a Magic Knight Captain wasn't for the weak, and anyone who took up the job knew that good and well. Not only were you expected to be among the strongest Magic Knights out there, but you were also expected to lead a group full of them & ensure their safety, survival, and growth. It was a job that required brains & brawn, leadership & personableness. Magic Knight Captains essentially had to become the parents of whoever they took under their wing, but perhaps no one was better suited for the job than Yami Sukehiro.

Although he was labeled every bad nickname under the sun, and although he was the antithesis of what a Clover Kingdom citizen should've been, acted or even looked like, the Black Bulls were probably the most successful squad in the history of the Kingdom, and that was all in thanks to Captain Yami and a few of his subordinates, but he's too stubborn to admit that.

All of this was to say that the job left him fucking exhausted.

Sure, the Black Bulls were an amazing bunch of "kids;" and sure, they were some of the strongest and valiant mages out there, but they were also extremely hard to rein in and were tiring to deal with on their own. Throw them into one building and make 'em live with one another? Now, that's enough to send any man into early retirement.

Then again, Yami wasn't just any man--but he was still a man at the end of the day. A man who, despite his preachings about "surpassing your limits," had his own limits with his squad.

Magna and Luck were giving him the worst possible headache with all of their "sparring." The sparring, in question, was happening inside, late at night, when everyone was supposed to be relaxing.

It didn't help that Asta was busy screaming on his own, and it also really didn't help that Noelle was screaming at him.

It didn't help that Gauche wouldn't shut up about Marie;

It didn't help that Gordon kept making those creepy dolls;

It didn't help that Vanessa wouldn't stop offering people drinks;

None of them were HELPING!

"Can all of you just SHUT UP ALREADY?!" Captain Yami's voice boomed from where he sat. "A man tries to get some much needed rest, and he can't do that because all of you won't stop causing a ruckus! Can't you fight outside like normal people?!"

"But, it's nighttime-"

"YEAH, IT IS NIGHTTIME--SO THAT MEANS ALL OF YOU SHOULD COOL IT DOWN A LITTLE BIT!" he shouted at whoever was trying to talk back to him. He stood up, crushing his cigarette underneath his boot, and stomped out of the room without another word.

It seemed as though he was having a terribly exhausting day, and it wasn't until he literally screamed at everyone that he finally got some pace and quiet. He hated screaming at them like that, but he had reached his limit a while ago. Luckily, for his sake and the rest of the Bulls' sake, his ever-present and perceptive girlfriend, you, knew just how to calm him down.

"Is she seriously going to his room? I get that they're dating and all, but-"

"Noelle, if you want us to live another day, then just let her do her thing."

You ignored whatever Noelle and Vanessa were saying and headed down the hall to where you knew Yami was. The base was always changing in where its rooms were, but you knew exactly where Yami headed off to; nobody could sense his Ki like you could. You tried to keep the sound of your heels hitting the cobblestone floor to a minimum, but there was only so much you could do to prevent them.

When you finally reached his room, you knocked on the door to signal your arrival, and you opened the door. "Who the hell is it?" he asked from over his shoulder.

"It's your girlfriend," you replied. You didn't miss the way his tense shoulders immediately fell when he realized it was you, and you watched as he let out a sigh.

"Why're you here? Weren't you busy reading a book to catch up on your magic studies or whatever?"

"That stuff can wait; my boyfriend's temper can't, though." You locked the door behind you and took slow, careful steps to where Yami was hunched over on the edge of his bed, and you put one hand on his boulder-like shoulder. "You're tense," you remarked.

"Thought it was easy to tell," he huffed.

"Tenser than usual, Suke." The sweet nickname you gave him after he told you you could use his first name never failed to butter him up. "You must've had a really rough day, huh? Rougher than usual?"

"You've got no fucking idea, princess." After your hand worked its magic on his tense shoulder, he pulled you in by your waist and sat you on his lap. "C'mere, I wanna feel you against me," he muttered into your shoulder.

"Anything you need, I'll do for you," you reassured him. Your hand went up to his hair and you started lightly massaging & scratching his scalp, making him sigh into your embrace. His arms tightened around you to secure you to him, then loosened a little to let you breathe. "One of my favorite things in the world is the feeling of your arms around me, Suke."

"Really?" he asked, now looking up at you.

"It sure is," you said with a nod of affirmation. "You touching me in general, it never fails to make me happy."

"I'm glad I do that for you, then." A tiny smile started worming its way to his tense features, and you gave him an even bigger smile. "Hey, princess--are you a witch or something?"

Now, this question made you cock your brow in confusion. "No, not really; I wasn't exactly born in the Witches' Forest."

"You must be, because the way your touch melts me has gotta be some sorta black magic. I mean, seriously--did Vanessa teach you a spell for relaxation?"

"She didn't exactly teach me a spell, per se; she didn't teach me anything about magic. I taught that relaxation spell to myself."

"'N how'd you do that?"

"By devoting some of my time to learning what makes my boyfriend tick or relax," you giggled, making him shake his head in disbelief.

"Really, now? Well, it's working wonders on me, I must say..." he let his words trail off before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of your chest, closing his eyes & inhaling the scent of your sweet vanilla & almond perfume. "I don't deserve you, baby--I really don't," he whispered into your chest.

"'Course you do, Suke, don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "You earned me by being an extra caring and affectionate man to me. Why wouldn't I have fallen for you? You earned my affections all on your own."

He pressed another kiss to your chest before looking up at you. "Would you say I surpassed my limits in doing so?"

You snickered at his little question. "You and your limits... yeah, you did: you surpassed your limits, and it earned you my affections."

"Damn straight, I did." He suddenly grabbed you and fell back onto the bed, making you yelp in surprise. In just the blink of an eye, you were now hovering over him, your silky hair falling onto his muscles and tickling him slightly.

"Suke, what do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cuddling my woman." He rolled you around until he was overtop of you, and he shot you a confident grin. "You sayin' you don't want me to?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then lemme cuddle." He silenced any further protests by pressing his lips to yours, savoring the honey sweet taste of your lips. "Mmm... just what a man needs to calm down..." He let his hands go up your shirt and he rubbed your sides gently, tracing circles on it. Suddenly, his exhaustion kicked in, and he got a slight cramp in his arm, making him buckle and fall to the side. "Shit," he hissed in pain.

"Suke, what's wrong? Are you hurt suddenly?" you looked at him with mild panic, wondering why he suddenly gave out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just got a little cramp. Gimme a sec, and I'll- fuck," the pain resurged, and he clutched his shoulder in pain. "It's worse now..."

You sat up and crawled closer to him, putting him on his back. You looked at the place where his arm cramped, and you touched it gently. "Princess, don't do that, it'll hurt-" he suddenly felt all the pain leave his arm, and he looked at you in amazement. "How did you...?"

You shrugged. "I just pressed a little hard and let your muscles relax. I didn't really give it a second thought."

He looked at his arm and then at you again. "Yeah, scratch that; I really don't deserve you."

"Suke!" you chided him, making him laugh. "Hmm... it must've been from all that stress and tension you've been under--I can feel it all throughout your body. Even when you were kissing me, I could feel your muscles tense."

"Really?" he looked at his arm, then at the rest of his body. He sighed, conceding to your observations. "I guess you're right... I've been so focused on surpassing my limits, I didn't give myself a break."

"Normally, I'd applaud your efforts; but I don't like seeing you in pain because of them." You looked off to the side for a bit, wondering what you could do to make him feel any better. "I know! Since my hands are so good at getting rid of your stress and anxiety, why don't I give you a nice massage?"

"A massage? What, you'd really give this ol' brute a rub and a tug?"

"Well, don't call it that! That sounds kinda weird... Suke, it'll just be a good old fashioned massage--nothing more, nothing less. I don't want you to cramp up again, and I certainly don't wanna see you in any pain. So roll over, big boy, because I'm gonna make you feel heavenly."

"Did you really have to do all of this stuff, princess?" Yami asked as he laid down on the makeshift massage table that you'd set up in the middle of the room. He was currently lying almost completely naked on it (save for the towel covering his penis) with his arms folded behind his head.

"Be quiet and let me take care of you," you quipped, grabbing the massage oils and rubbing your hands with them. You looked over at Yami, your eyes trailing down his muscular body shamelessly.

"Are you gonna do that or just stand there and ogle me?" he asked again, this time with a cocky half-smile.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't be mean to your masseuse." You reached for his arm and unfolded it, and you began with his shoulder. "I could pull you any which way I want, make you cramp even harder."

"Please don't do that," he said, a bit panicked.

You giggled and started massaging his big shoulders & delts. "I'm just messing with you, Suke; I wouldn't wanna injure my captain anymore than he already is."

As your hand started making its way down his chiseled arm, he couldn't stop the grunts of satisfaction that escaped his lips. "Fuck, princess... that feels so good..."

"Why, thank you, handsome." You continued to massage his entire arm until you got to his hand, and you even massaged his fingers. Within just a few short minutes & touches, his arm was already feeling quite at ease.

The more you massaged him, the more grunts & groans & even whimpers that he let out. You missed not a single spot on his body, from his chiseled abs to his calves. "Fuuuuck, princess," he groaned especially deeply into the pillow, "keep it up... goddamn--your hands are a godsend."

He wasn't the only one who was deriving satisfaction from this massage; you got to touch and feel every single muscle on your boyfriend's impressive body, and that alone was enough payment. He truly had some amazing muscles, possibly the best in all of Clover. 'His biceps are bigger than my head... and his thighs are so thick--I bet he could crush a watermelon with them!' you giggled to yourself.

"Is there something funny?"

"No, not at all." You turned him on his belly, and that was when the real fun began. Pecs and abs were some amazing muscles, yes, but the back was where the glory laid. His back muscles, although quite tensed, were nothing short of incredible! He had such a wide, tapered back, and each inch of it was covered in thick muscles that he'd acquired over the years. 'I know I'm dating the man, but seeing his back never gets old!'

"Heh, like what you see, princess?" he asked from over his shoulder. He knew that you were ogling his back right now, and that little piece of satisfaction, of knowing that his girl was a huge fan of his muscles gave him all the confidence he'd need for the week.

"Yeah, I do." Your hand sunk into his upper back and started steamrolling all the kinks and tension out of his muscles, and it was like going to heaven. The upper back was where a lot of tension was held in the human body...

And yet, despite all that tension accumulated, you still got rid of it just like that.

"Fuckkk... fuck, fuck, fuck- fucking, fuck!" he laughed into his pillow, feeling like a new man already.

"Wow, am I really that good?"

"Do I even have to answer that?"

You giggled in response and instead continued on the man's back. Once the big knots were out of his body, you went to his traps, his triceps--even his butt--the backs of his thighs, as well as his calves. Not a single spot was missed by your watchful eye, and not a shred of stress remained in the man. Not only that, but he was also soft and smooth from the massage oils.

"And... there we go! Should all be done. Is there anything I missed?" you asked as he sat up.

"Nah, you didn't miss a thing, princess." He reached out and pulled you in by the shoulders, pressing a deep kiss to your forehead. "I know I don't hand out praise often, but you're my girlfriend, and you did this for me without any strings attached."

"Is someone finally saying thank you?" you giggled.

"Be quiet before I change my mind, brat. Anyway, thanks for that. It meant a lot to me that you were willing to take such good care of my body."

"Suke, someone had to do it. Your body were practically screaming in agony--I could sense your Ki from a good distance away. You snapping at everyone only solidified that notion."

"Shit, about that..." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "You think they'll mind?"

"Nah; they'll understand, Suke. You were under a lot of stress. If anything, you deserved it, especially since they just wouldn't shut up," you said, making him laugh.

"I knew you'd take my side."

"I usually do," you sighed, retracting from his arm.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked suddenly. You turned around, only to see him reaching out for you. "I wanted to cuddle with you..."

"We can cuddle when you're not all oily and naked," you scoffed, throwing him a towel. He dried himself off, then you threw a change of clothes at him, and changed into some yourself.

"But I thought you liked seeing me naked?"

"There's a time and place for everything, Suke." After putting all of that stuff on and brushing out your hair, you eagerly jumped into your boyfriend's bed and arms.

"Now, this is more like it," he said as he pulled you in for some much needed cuddles. "I'm all relaxed and ready for bed with my beautiful girlfriend in my arms. What more could a man need?"

"Maybe some sleep?" you asked, making him dig his knuckle into your head. The two of you blew out the lamp, and he snuggled up to you, his arms & legs entangled with yours.

"I appreciate everything that you do for me, (Y/N)," he murmured into your ear. You knew it was serious when he used your first name & not his "princess" pet name.

"I appreciate that you appreciate my efforts," you hummed, looking at him. The Yami that everyone else knew and the Sukehiro that you knew were like two completely different people. Yami was the fierce warrior, proud of where he came from; and Sukehiro was the gentle giant who treated you with the utmost care. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the crop who needed your sunshine. If he ever lost you, then there'd be hell to pay for whoever was involved.

"I'll always appreciate everything you do for me, princess, even if it's something as simple as cuddling up to me." He closed his eyes and allowed himself to finally relax, hugging your smaller frame tightly. "Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, Sukehiro."

HELP WHY WAS TOJI'S 3.7K WORDS also I'm editing this later, I just wanted to get the first draft out since this took FOREVER to write

301 notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 1 year ago

Text

back to december (teaser) (m) | ksj

title: back to december (teaser) pairing: brother's best friend!seokjin x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au summary: ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind. note: this originally started as a one-shot for @raplinesmoon for the maui relief fundraiser, but turned into something more. since it also fit into the mold of this holiday collab, here we are! note 2: this is part of the jingle all the way collaboration with @kpopfanfictrash, @leahsfavefics, @cybrsan, @yoonia, and @sugaurora! all the holiday collab fics have the phrase “the holidays aren’t so bad with you around.” warnings: [explicit warnings to be posted on drop day!] language, alcohol, angst lol, time switches/flashbacks, seokjin being the sweetest until he’s not >:)), reader being damn cool, overthinking, bbf!jin needs his own warning i am warning y’all now, horribly great jokes, winter themes, relationship failures, stress/anxiety, jin being jin, did i say angst?, falling into cold water, a lot of gd yearning mood: back to december - taylor swift, halley's comet - billie eilish, universe/snowing in la - thuy teaser word count: 1.2k | est. word count: uhhh 20k+ lol wanna be on the taglist? add yourself here! est. drop date: january 2024

It all started with an accident in winter.

Ever the gracious hosts, your family decided to throw a cookout for your brother’s birthday, inviting everyone in the neighborhood and its outskirts to join in celebration. While your brother was initially opposed to being outside in the frost, word got around that his crush of three years running would be present, which suddenly warmed him right up to the whole idea.

Typical.

You were also initially opposed—having to sit through the festivities while your older sibling hogged all the attention—until you discovered your own downfall was attending, too.

Because of course he would.

And if he was coming, you were set on making your naive self presentable and noticeable, and you still consider the day of the party to be the best you’ve ever carried yourself. You were confident, you were radiant.

Until you got bumped into the backyard pool.

You don’t even recall who knocked you in. All you remember was water rushing into your vision, and paddling through outright shame and embarrassment when you shakily swam your freezing bones to the ledge. Everyone saw you: your friends, your family, your brother’s older circle and acquaintances. In your adolescence, it was the literal worst thing to have happened to anyone in the history of ever.

But someone’s outstretched hand greeted you when you got to the pool’s edge.

And when you looked up, you questioned if you hit the bottom on the way in because the face you were seeing was a shock. Were you deceased? Did you somehow swim to heaven’s beach?

No. It was really him, the very person you got all dressed up for.

Seokjin. Handsome, reserved, off-limits friend of your brother Seokjin.

Years later, you still question why he was the one helping you out. But it didn’t matter at the time because all you wanted was to get thawed out as soon as possible.

“Come on,” he had urged. “You’ll get sick.”

Trembling because of the cold and nothing else, you took his hand and let him haul you into the house, wondering what the hell was going on the entire time. Why was he the one helping you? Where the hell was your brother?

Because not only did he lead you inside, but the boy also accompanied you to your bathroom, grabbing a towel off its rack and wrapping it around your knocking shoulder blades.

“Grab some clothes, okay?”

“Huh?”

“Go get clothes,” Seokjin ordered, moving towards your shower. “And change out of those as soon as you can.”

“Oh.” Blinking, you couldn’t decide if your shivers were from the fall or his comments. But either way, you were shaking horrendously. “Yeah, okay.”

After that, you remember being so cold you couldn’t even move your legs. Which meant that Seokjin had to lead you to your room and wait at the entrance while you hastily grabbed whatever you could find.

There was no way he was gonna catch the cutesy patterns of your underwear. No way.

When you were done, Seokjin brought you back into the restroom, the spray of water echoing through the festively decorated space. “It should be warm enough now,” he urged. “Don’t wait.”

“Thank you,” you finally huffed, hating how your shakes stifled your gratitude. “You can, uhm. Go back out there now.”

“Mm.” In the doorway, his eyes reflected the bright lights so perfectly. To this day, you still remember the way you compared them to stars. “Well. Umm. Good luck.”

And you will never forget the way you felt heat before you even touched the run of the shower.

“Yes, it’s all set. We are still on for Monday.”

“Good. This is the meeting we absolutely cannot miss.”

“Umm, yes—I mean—Understood.”

“Is everything okay over there?”

Rushing to close the door of your rental, you bite back a curse as your suit jacket catches in the edge. Because of course it does after the frantic day you’ve already had. “Yes! Everything’s”—you smush your top against your side while shutting the door again—“Fine! But I do have to go.”

“Sure, sure. Oh, one more thing—”

Right. Rummaging through your purse, you locate the keys at the very bottom while trying to ingest the four things being tossed into your ear, locking the car in a fast walk to the massive mountainside property ahead of you.

“ —then we’ll finalize the merger. Got that?”

Holy shit, your brother must be doing even better than you or his fiance is loaded.

“Hello?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes, Mr. Hamada, we can do that.”

“Mm. What did we say about language.”

“Apologies.” Damn your filthy mouth for running even faster in cold weather. Because it is the goddamn arctic out here. “I will say I have been getting better, though.”

“Improvement won’t matter if you fuck up during the meeting.”

“Alright, buddy.” Your superior’s laugh grates your ear as you haul ass into the warm estate, worry suddenly gripping you when you realize that no one is walking around.

Shit, are you that late? Did you miss everything?

Skittering right to the main doors, you start to panic. Are these the main doors? They look like them. Fancy. Very fancy. Shit, shit, shit, is the wedding over—

A full body bumps into your side as you round a table bursting with flowers. Having a sound enough mind to cover your receiver, you react in a shout, “Hey, watch it—”

“Sorry!”

Wait. You know that voice.

Even though it’s one that you haven’t heard in years.

“…Jin?”

Everything slowly stops as the man turns and, if you weren’t so in shock, you would’ve noticed the way his eyes traveled from your heels to your perfectly trimmed brows.

You expect both something and nothing. Because when it comes to the person standing in front of you, there’s no telling what he’ll destroy you with next.

But what comes out is merely a tiny, chest-constricting,

“Hello.”

You stare, and stare, and stare some more. Even your boss cannot bring you back to the present with his incessant poking.

Because Jin looks so fucking handsome in his suit that’s not quite dressed yet, with hair that’s swept just enough to throw you off planet earth. Even the way his tie lounges around his neck gives you pause, because it showcases how broad his shoulders have become.

How can he look the same and yet so heartbreakingly different?

“I—”

“Later, tuna fish.”

Your heart lurches.

“They’re waiting for me.”

To your dismay, Seokjin presses a soft hand on your shoulder while passing through the ornate entrance, his lingering burn searing through as you watch him button his suit on the run.

Well. At least you didn’t miss the wedding.

You hear your sibling’s hearty shout echo throughout the hall, but you have to physically tear yourself from your spot to finally answer your boss.

And to not fixate on the one person you thought you were safe from today.

But of course he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be? Him and your brother have been inseparable since the beginning, and you should’ve known even being on different planets wouldn’t keep them apart too long.

Speaking of…

Traveling to another galaxy might solve the numbing ache in your chest. Maybe you should consider that gigantic leap yourself.

Because seeing Jin again brings you back to December.

And the frost you feel in your bones overshadows any weather brewing outside.

tbc.

wheee! we have a teaser! | join the taglist!

a/n: isi i hope you know what monster you're about to unleash lmao. here's to another holiday seokjin! gosh, he will keep haunting me and i love him for it. second chance with isi's initial brother's best friend!jin request? gotta love it. the one-two-three punch, i reckon. anyways, hope y'all enjoyed the teaser and i am so so nervous about the main drop but hope you like that, as well :'))

links: jingle all the way collab ; masterlist

#let's get it!#bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin fic #*latest #*ryenfictalk #holidaycollab #fic:btd #seokjin x you #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #seokjin smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #ryenwrites

409 notes · View notes

12triceratops · 10 months ago

Text

Where the rubber meets the road.

These two didn't just have a relationship, they had a (soul)utionship. "The Prophecy" Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle...

What these two had was magical. There is no debate that Karlie Kloss and Taylor Swift were electric: (I am using past tense for the moment, I will refer to them in present tense a bit later in the post)

Fast forward a decade later to Fortnight. This record did not hit me immediately the way "Folklore" and "Evermore" did, It has almost been a week since its release and I hadn't been fully onboard with TTPD. I was expecting something different, something not familiar and I had quite literally thought maybe Jack Antinoff and Taylor Swift had reached their limit together as collaborators. The music produced by Aaron Dressner had flavors and connections to "Folklore" and "Evermore," while parts of the album was reminiscent of "1989." My next thought that maybe the three of them had done all they could do.

And then the Matty Healy conversation exploded across the net (le sigh), and I just about gave up on the record.

I damn near had a sanguinary struggle within myself over The Tortured Poets Department (I know, that is very dramatic lol), and then I finally got it. The brilliance of this woman is unmatched.

The last song "The Manuscript." Now and then she rereads the manuscript Of the entire torrid affair

"The entire torrid affair" meaning the last decade (probably longer, but I am sticking with 2014-2024). The title isn't lost on me and many others - The Man-U-Script.

The last segment of the song

The only thing that's left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I reread the manuscript But the story isn't mine anymore

She is closing the chapter on all of it. It's over, the countless theories, the stories we all have created about her. They're our stories now, we built them into a formidable, monstrous entity that took on a life of its own. "The last souvenir" are her words to us on this album. From the Swifities, to the Gaylors/Kaylors, to the haters, critics, industry, fans, media. She won't play this game anymore. Taylor gave enough clues on this album to make EVERYONE'S theory plausible (Karlie, Joe, Matty, Travis, Harry, Kim etc). She connected threads to come full circle, which brings us back to "1989," that 1980s syth-pop (hello! "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart"). This is why she and Jack Antonoff brought us back to where it all began, Karlie Kloss and #Kissgate (Dianna Agron, too, who can forget "Wonderland). Aaron Dressner summons moments within this records of the two albums that fractured my soul, F & E. That folky-pop melody that gets into your skin to change the DNA. No joke, I sobbed listening to "Folklore" and "Evermore."

With TTPD, Taylor comes in like a thrashing, tumultuous storm; at times seething and others admonishing. She is singing to herself, for herself and without need of approval from the mainstream radio (or anyone else). TTPD is messy, too much, not enough, vulnerable, real, relatable and she is tired of our collective shit.

Back to "The Manuscript" This Era has come to an end and she is leaving us with the ruins, the aftermath of what she went through: being forced to hide who she really is, having to placate the rabid fans who believe the stories of every boy she has ever dated. She has had zero privacy and the only safe place Taylor has ever had was her music, she is the ONLY one who knows to whom she sings. Does she love her fans, of course, but Mother is tired and done. She is ready to come clean and live the life she has crafted to keep in secret in order to protect the innocent.

The beards, NDAs, slight of hand, she is smashing all that we know. It's not her reflection she seeks to shatter, it's the illusions. In "Fortnight" the nurse, a woman (cannot convince me that it's not Karlie. A doorframe is 6'8" and that nurse is about 5" shorter that frame, which would make that person 6'3" :), comes to save her, gives her the key to set her free. The men in the video are the ones who are torturing her. Like the last 10 years, The poet has been tortured by the department of men: Joe, John, Conner, Jake, Harry, Calvin, Tom, Joe, Matty, Travis, Scooter, Scott, and the list goes on.

It's "Robin" that has got a choke-hold on me.

Buried down deep And out of your reach The secret we all vowed To keep it from you in sweetness

She is singing to a child, a kid, and I am going to say a little boy. Is this song about Levi? I am going to say yes. Hands down the gem of the album, and our cue to realize she is telling us what is next, her family, the loves of her life: Karlie and the kids. That is what she wants and that will be her next chapter. We struggle to interpret the Taylor that is always ten steps ahead of us. Her Eras Tour, this will be the last one for a while. Once it has wrapped, I wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared for a spell. Will she produce more work, sure. Perform, probably, but this last decade has taken a toll, and this tour has been a herculean effort. Hence, its wild success. Could she retire (FLORIDA)? It's possible, but she would never tell us, we would have to figure that out for ourselves.

I have more to say, but it's late and I am sleepy. As I get lost in the piano of "The Manuscript" I am reminded of the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo"

Not sure if anyone is going to see or read this, but I needed a place to write my thoughts about this extraordinary album that I almost let slip through my fingers. Good night and sleep well everyone <3

#taylor swift #karlie kloss #the tortured poets department #matty healy #gaylor #kaylor #jack antonoff #aaron dessner #1989 era #the eras tour

241 notes · View notes

solar-wing · 2 years ago

Text

⚣ Rag Doll 🤬

⚣🤬 A/N → My first Jason Todd fic I posted on my other account! This full NSFW will be posted here since taking it out would lead to half the story being taken out. WARNINGS: NSFW. Breaking&Entering. Consensual-Non-Consensual. Bondage. Anal Sex. Rough Fucking. Mentions of Throat-Fucking. Domination. Breathplay (Choking). etc.

⚣🤬 Summary → Jason hasn't gotten it through his head that you and he were broken up. But, for the vigilante, you haven't gotten it through your head that you belong to him. He plans on reminding you of that little fact. Sorry for your window.

⚣🤬 Words → 2.1k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤬

“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Jason!” You shouted into your phone while pacing back and forth in your living room.

It was damn near midnight and you were just about to get in the shower after a hard day. Your job was stressing you out, your neighbors were getting on your nerves, and your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, hadn’t gotten it through his thick head about the ‘ex’ part.

“I don’t want you fucking working with him, Y/N!” Jason shouted back through your earphones. You had to switch the call to them after you got tired of holding the phone against your ear for over half an hour.

Your job put together a new team for an important project after your company merged under Wayne Enterprises. You were selected to lead this team, along with one of your co-workers who you had been aware was interested in you since you started working at the company.

Unfortunately, your ex was the jealous and possessive type of guy who upon finding out this information demanded you quit. It turned into a major argument that lasted for weeks until you eventually called it off with him after two years. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about that and refused to accept it.

You kicked him out of your shared apartment, changing the locks, but it didn’t stop him from coming back, acting like you guys were on a break instead of actually broken up.

“I don’t give two flying shits, Jason! We broke up. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.” You repeated, for probably the 14th time within the last 30 minutes.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me, Y/N!” He growled through the phone.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m your child, asshole!”

You heard him go quiet for a minute, though you could hear how hard his breathing was through the line indicating he was reaching his limit but so were you. Many people wondered how you two managed to stay together as long as you did since you both were hotheads.

“I’d remind you, Y/N, to watch who you’re talking to like that. Don’t think for one second I won’t-”

“You won’t what, fucker?” You cut him off, your patience non-existent at this point.

“Baby boy, please just-”

“No, Jason! I told you I am through with your controlling ass behavior. We’re over. Stop calling me, stop texting me, and stop having your family watch me. You have no say at all in my life anymore. If I want to go fuck Levi, Adrian, Steve, and the whole motherfucking HR team, I will do so. And there is not one thing you can do to stop me. So with that, goodnight, Jason.” You said, clicking the button on your earphones to hang up the call.

A deep sigh escaped your lips before you took your earphones out and placed them in their case. You walked to your bedroom and tossed the device onto the bed, missing the silhouette of a tall, bulky body standing on the building across from your apartment window.

You had just finished brushing your teeth and were about to wash your face when the sound of glass shattering from your bedroom alerted you.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself before opening your bathroom door, looking to see your bedroom window in pieces. But that wasn’t what shocked you the most. What had you staggered and growing furious was the person you saw standing in the middle of the mess, dressed in his vigilante attire, just without the helmet.

“Jason Peter Todd, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed, a tight knot forming at the back of your head from your anger toward the beefy vigilante.

He held a smug grin, slowly walking toward you while grabbing something off his belt, “You hung up on me baby boy, and we weren’t finished talking yet.”

There was a dark tone to his words as he backed you into the corner of your room with him easily dwarfing you in size. The glint of the metal handcuffs in his hand shined in your eye as you let out a gulp.

Your wrists ached and were the color of an apple as they were repeatedly dragged and rubbed against the handcuffs that had you bound to the headboard on your bed. Tears pooled in your eyelids and ran down your cheeks as you felt Jason thrusting roughly into you with his hand squeezing your dick, denying you another orgasm for the 4th time.

He’d been at it for over an hour, fucking you in every position he could think of all over your no-longer shared bedroom.

There was a growing soreness in your hole from your ex’s rough treatment, only slowing down every now and then to delay his own orgasm. He only would allow himself to cum when you did first. Such a gentleman.

Thing was, he would keep denying your orgasm until you submitted to him and agreed to take him back. Now, he chooses to accept your break-up! Great fucking timing…

His body hovered over yours as forced your legs wider with one hand while using the other to hold you around your neck. It was something from his possessive nature that just liked the feeling of control he got when he could squeeze and take your breath away at a moment’s notice.

“A-Ah! Cl-Close a-a-again.” You whined as you felt your body jutting up and down with the shaking bed frame.

The sound of fists pounding from the other side of the wall, your neighbors signaling their annoyance and request for you to quiet down, but Jason ignored them. Before, he would always stop and yell out an apology. He was considerate like that, but tonight, he couldn’t give one fuck if the entire building came knocking on your door.

You were his entire focus. All he cared about was you and making you feel every bit of pleasurable pain while at his mercy.

“Uh uh baby boy,” He grunted in your ear, squeezing down on the base of your dick again, preventing you yet again from reaching your blissful end. You felt more than heard the cry of frustration you let out, your head turning back as he licked and bit at your earbud.

Your body was littered with bite marks and hickeys, another thing from your ex’s possessive attitude toward you. The red marks would remind everyone else who you belonged to while the soreness from your hole would remind you. Jason’s size alone could have you squirming all alone without his rough pace.

Looking over his shoulder in the distance, you could see the mirror facing your bed, and Jason’s large frame fucking into you like an animal from behind. Even with his shirt still on, you could see how sweaty he was which did nothing but increase the arousal and need for release in your stomach.

Jason knew just how much it drove you crazy seeing his muscles underneath the compression material even when you guys were just out on a regular outing, let alone during sex. It was very obvious he did that on purpose just to make it even harder for you to resist him. He even kept his mask on too, probably remembering that one time you said you liked the mysterious vibe it gave him.

All you wanted at that moment was to touch him, to run your hands up and down his back and over his arms, or through his dark hair to grip and hold on as he pile-drived into you mercilessly. But, as cruel as fate was (fate being named Jason), your restraints would not give way no matter how hard you pulled against them.

He let out an amusing chuckle at your struggling before tightening his grip around your neck, restricting your airways.

“Ja-Jason, please…” You gasped before he increased the pressure even more, stealing your breath away.

A soundless yelp escaped your lips when he gave a particularly hard thrust against your spot while rubbing his thumb over your red, weeping head, smearing your pre-cum all over before he slowed down to a dragging pace so he could speak into your ear.

“You know what to say, Y/N. I let you have this little charade to give you time to cool off like the caring boyfriend I am, but obviously, you needed a reminder of who’s in charge here. So tell me what I want to hear, baby boy, and you can have your reward.” He gruffly stated before his movements suddenly paused inside you and he released the pressure on your throat.

“N-No! Please- a-ah, fuck ... ! Please, Jason, I-I need…” You cried the second you felt him stop and the air came rushing back into your pipes.

Jason was buried all the way inside you, throbbing hard against your walls. You could tell he was close and was using this as an opportunity to calm himself down so he could keep fucking you if you didn’t give in.

“Those aren’t the fucking words I want to hear, Y/N.” He scolded in your ear with a harsh slap to the side of your butt causing you to scream out in pain before he tightened his hold around your neck again.

He brought his head up from between your neck, his hard stare looking you down as you tried to hold back the tears still building in your eyes. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this and you feel so good around my cock. You’re tight and wet and all for me. Stop torturing us both like this, baby boy. Just say it.” He dictated before leaning down to kiss your lips which were still swollen from when he face-fucked you for 10 minutes.

You suddenly felt him give you a pounding thrust, squeezing around your dick at the same time causing you to scream into his mouth.

“Come on baby, just say it for me. Who do you belong to?” He muttered against your lips, punctuating every word with another thrust and squeeze, forcing more tears from your eyes as your body shuddered from the pain and stimulation.

He laid soft kisses around your cheeks, treating your face like a flower but your body like a rag doll.

“N-nh, ah ... f-fuck ... y-you you…” You breathed, barely able to form any coherent words from his increasing grip on your neck.

“You what, baby?” He prodded, watching as your eyes fluttered close from the pleasure of his increasing thrusts, “Ah ah, open up those eyes, baby boy. You need to look at me when you say it.” He ordered, thrusting against your prostate again forcing you to open your eyes with another whine.

“I-I b-belong… oh fuck… t-to … ah you…” You muttered, hearing his growl in response.

“Say it again.” He ordered, punching against your spot again while squeezing your dick.

“I belong to you.”

“Louder!”

“I belong to you!”

“I said louder!” Your bodies rocked together with the shaking frame hearing items hit the floor from the wall where your headboard was banging against as the pounding from the other side started up again.

“I BELONG TO YOU!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he smashed the head of his dick against your prostate before he leaned down into your ear, releasing your dick with an order, “Cum.”

Your body felt like it was encased in white-hot fire release overcame you, screaming out “O-OHH, FUCK ... !”

You twitched underneath him as your dick exploded with your orgasm, painting your stomach and his shirt with your white sticky cum while your legs were shaking from the stimulation as you came down from your high.

Jason feverishly increased his pace, fucking into you with erratic movements before he let out a loud groan, pushing as far as he could while shooting his load inside you. It caused an aftershock to turn through you, sending more spurts of your own cum out your weeping dick as he tensed and tried to hold himself still while breeding you.

He moved slowly back and forth, both your bodies still lightly shuddering in pleasure. He brought his face back over yours, pressing your sweaty foreheads together.

“You’re quitting tomorrow.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.” You replied, slowly catching your breath.

“Watch it,” He retorted with a small hard thrust while flexing his still-hard dick eliciting a small cry from you.

He chuckled at you pressing his lips against yours again before muttering out against them, "You're mine, and if I have to remind you of that again, I will."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

897 notes · View notes