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wildwestdean · 5 months ago

Text

impetus

summary: dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 9.4k+

warnings: violence, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, gore, evil witches, reader and dean get attacked, swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, idiots oblivious to their own feelings, magical curses, hallucinations, nightmares, depictions of death, depictions of drowning, fighting/arguments, heart-to-heart, confessions, use of [y/n], nicknames, mature themes

“Right, well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Dean declared, rolling Baby to a stop before switching into park.

You both sat quietly as you surveyed the desolate building, a feeling of unease washing over you.

“Maybe we should wait for Sam,” you suggested half heartedly. He was only down at the Sheriff’s station, and it wouldn’t even take ten minutes for him to meet you here, but you knew Dean wouldn’t wait.

“No,” he said, confirming what you already knew. “Someone else is missing and this is our best lead so far. If you don’t want to go in, that's fine, but I am.”

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” you snapped, sitting up as tall as you could despite the pit forming in your stomach.

“Awe, you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean teased, turning to look at you with a grin; one that was effectively wiped from his face when he saw the look in your eyes. “Hey, what is it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, shrugging lightly. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“Bad feeling like what?” he questioned, his brows knitting together.

You thought about it, trying to pinpoint what it was you felt, but you couldn’t. “Just…. don’t go wandering off,” you ended up saying- begging, more like.

“Alright,” he agreed easily. “We stick together, and we’ll be in and out before you know it.”

“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Let’s gear up.”

You exited the car as quietly as you could, making your way around to the back as Dean unlocked the trunk and propped up the panel to the arsenal.

“You and Sam better be right about this,” he muttered, digging out the box of witch-killing bullets.

Your mind raced through the details of the case: An exsanguinated priest, a dead nun with her tongue ripped out, the president of the high schools abstinence club found without a heart, and various livestock missing various body parts - if this wasn’t a witch, you were a little scared to find out what else it could be.

“We have to be,” you breathed out, loading your ammo.

“Can you do me a favour and sound at least a little confident?” he asked playfully, lightly nudging your arm with his own before tucking his gun into his jeans.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, holstering your own gun.

“It’s alright,” he said earnestly, handing you your favourite knife (one that used to be his before you claimed it as your own). “I’m just not used to seeing you so spooked.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as you took the knife from him. “I’m not used to feeling spooked.”

“We’ll make it through,” he consoled, closing up the trunk. “Just like we always do.”

“Just like we always do,” you echoed with a nod, following him towards the building.

The overgrowth brushed your calves as you made your way up the walk, and after a quick survey of the facade, Dean swung the door open after picking the lock.

“Wait!” you hissed, stopping him before he entered. “Sam does know we’re here, right?”

You watched as his shoulders shrugged before stepping inside. “Probably.”

“That’s… comforting,” you sighed, following him across the threshold.

The two of you did a quick preliminary sweep of the main level before making your way to the top floor, finding nothing of significance in any of the rooms. Making your way back down, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a clatter come from beneath you.

“Of course there’s a basement,” Dean whispered. “Why wouldn’t the creepy ass witch be in the creepy ass basement of this creepy ass house?”

“How do you know she’s a creepy ass witch?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe she’s hot. Or a guy. Or both.”

He faltered over his response, considering your words for a moment. “I’ll bet whatever tab you drink up at the bar once we end up ganking this bitch. She’s creepy.”

“Deal,” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

You both chuckled, before another noise from the basement drew your attention back to the case at hand. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat before leading the way in search of the basement entrance, using the occasional noise as guidance.

“God, I hate witches,” he muttered to himself, slapping away cobwebs as he descended the stairs.

“I don’t think the witch put those webs there,” you said with a snicker.

“No, they’re just the one turning this rotting corpse of a house into a lair of evil and despair,” he hissed.

You rolled your eyes in response, unable to stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face as you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

A muffled cry caught your attention, and Dean spared you a quick look before running in the direction it came from, you hot on his heels. Coming up on a corner, he slowed to a halt and peered around the wall.

“It looks clear,” he decided after a moment. “Just be careful,” he added, continuing on his way.

Upon turning the corner, you were enveloped in the warm glow of candles, which would have been nice, had it not been for the rest of the scene. An altar lay at the far wall, burning candelabras stood in each corner of the room, and the very person you were searching for was bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles.

Dean cursed and muttered under his breath, surveying the room. “I’ll get him, you get the altar.“

“Okay,” you agreed, running across the room. Once you reached the altar, you couldn’t help but stare in shock and disgust for a moment as you took in the sight; all the missing body parts seemingly staring back at you from where they lay soaked in blood. It took Dean shouting your name from across the room to bring you back to your senses, and you quickly upturned the altar as Dean instructed the now freed man to get out as fast as possible and wait by the car. As soon as the contents of the altar were scattered, an ear piercing shriek came from behind you.

Quickly whirling on your heels, you were greeted by a cloaked figure, who seemingly came out of nowhere.

“What have you done?” she screamed, dropping her hood as she stared daggers into you.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned innocence. “Did I ruin your big plan?”

“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, slowly approaching you. “You’ll pay for this!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean called out from behind her.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?! How many centuries passed by until the circumstances were right? I had it! I had it all! I was one spell away from seeing my love again!” she continued to scream, advancing further towards you as she ignored Dean.

“Back off, Grunhilda!” Dean roared from behind her, drawing his gun.

“No!” she shrieked, barely lifting her hand in order to easily swing his gun away - and stop you from drawing your own. “You stupid little gnat. You think you can just come in here and mess with things you don’t understand? You think you can take this from me?!”

Her shouting was drowned out by the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your throat constricted, the air leaving your lungs and not returning. You felt your bones cracking beneath your skin as your feet left the floor, and you shared a look of terror with Dean before black began to cloud the edges of your vision.

Without an effective weapon handy, Dean rushed the witch and tackled her to the floor, sending you crashing down. You met the concrete with a thud, and it knocked the rest of your senses out of you. You laid there for who knows how long, fighting off the waves of pain and nausea, willing yourself to move as you listened to the struggle happening a few feet away from you.

By the time you managed to prop yourself up, Dean was pinned down as she advanced on him, and you desperately looked around for either of your guns.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you heard her ask, menace laced deep in her words. “To want something so desperately, to feel that desire within your very soul?!”

Dean struggled against her hold as you struggled to pick yourself up, to at least crawl to a weapon if you had to.

“Well you will,” she sneered, cackling to herself. “You’ll know how it feels. To have what you want the very most to be so close to you, to have it at the edge of your fingertips, only to never be able to grasp it! For it to be the only thing you can think about!”

“Shut the hell up,” Dean seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at her.

She only stepped closer towards him, cackling to herself. “Your strongest yearning, hidden deep in your heart, will nevermore be yours to part. Be it with sun or with rain, that which brings joy won’t be without pain.”

“You finished yet?” Dean interrupted, before he had the wind knocked out of him, rendering him silent.

Moving as quickly as you could without being noticed, you closed in on Dean’s pistol while the witch carried on.

“Whatever you crave you cannot say, yet you’ll seek it out be it night or day,” she continued, hovering over him. “Consider yourself lucky, you useless toad. I’ve had countless lifetimes yearning to see my love again, and I’ll spend lifetimes more. At least you only have this one measly little life to yearn for what you want.”

Grasping the gun in your hands, you carefully rose to your feet and steadied yourself to take aim. “Man, you really do talk too much,” you huffed out.

The shot rang out just as she turned towards you, though it was silenced by a roaring wind that accompanied a bright blue light. Within seconds, everything was calm and quiet again.

Fighting every urge you had to collapse back onto the floor, you trudged your way over to Dean in an attempt to help him up.

“God, I told you she’d be creepy,” he gasped out, groaning as he stood.

“You want a prize?” you asked incredulously, staring up at him.

“I wanna get the hell out of here,” he said, ushering you to take leave. “Then I want those drinks you owe me.”

After what felt like another entire day, you and Dean had dropped the victim off at the hospital, patched each other up, cleaned out the basement, showered, and filled Sam in on everything that went down.

“So… she cursed you?” Sam asked curiously, trying to understand.

“I dunno. She tried to, I guess,” Dean replied nonchalantly. “But [Y/N/N] put a bullet in her. No witch, no curse, right?”

Sam shared a brief look with you, before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, but… there was no body.”

“What?” Dean asked gruffly.

“The witch,” you said. “I shot, but she vanished. What if she isn’t dead?”

“Well, I feel normal, so I’m gonna say she’s dead,” Dean declared with a shrug. “Now, can we head to the bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink… or twelve.”

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly stood and donned his jacket before looking back at you and Sam. “You guys coming or what?”

“Oh, do I have a choice to not go?” you asked playfully.

“You can stay if you want, but your wallet comes with me,” he replied, smiling innocently.

“Alright, let’s go,” you said with a dramatic sigh, grabbing your own jacket.

Not long after, the three of you were sliding into a booth in the nearest dive, enjoying the lack of people; you guys seriously needed to decompress.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you declared, hopping out of the booth to get the first round of drinks.

“Make sure you get a tab started!” Dean jokingly called after you.

You flipped him off in response, taking a seat at the bar after placing your order. While you waited, Sam watched as Dean grew more restless in his seat.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” he finally asked, eyeing Dean as he fidgeted anxiously.

“What?” Dean asked cluelessly, glancing around the bar. “I’m thirsty. She’s been gone for what, like, half an hour?”

“It’s… barely been two minutes, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused grin.

“Yeah, well. I want my beer,” Dean mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table as he glanced around once more. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help.”

Before Sam could even reply, Dean was already halfway across the bar, meeting you just as you got your final drink.

“Need a hand?” Dean asked cheerfully, his sudden appearance making you jump. “Sorry,” he added with a snicker.

“Dick,” you muttered with a laugh, hopping down from the stool. “Here you go,” you added, handing him his beer.

“Awesome,” he beamed, taking the bottle from your outstretched hand.

He followed closely as you made your way back to the table, handing Sam his drink before sliding into the booth; Dean followed suit, leaving you nestled in between him and the wall.

The three of you had a few more rounds before Dean slipped away, determined to teach a lesson to the arrogant ass harassing players around the pool tables - just because you didn’t need to hustle people anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun every now and then. You watched him fondly, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched him fumble around with his cue before making a terrible break. Harder than it looks, you could just hear him say.

Your attention was turned back to Sam when he cleared his throat, and you were met with his questioning gaze. “Does he seem weird to you?”

“Weird how?” you asked, face scrunched in confusion.

“I don’t know, strange,” he replied with a small shrug. “Like- like antsy or something.”

Your eyes flit back across the room to Dean, who was very much in his element as he upped his ante, before focusing on Sam again. “I haven’t noticed anything, Sammy.”

He sighed in resignation, seeming to already know that would be your response. “It’s probably nothing, just forget I said anything,” he replied, shaking his head dismissively before finishing his drink.

“If you say so,” you muttered quietly, sipping your drink as you cast a worried gaze across the bar, getting lost in thought.

By the time you each finished another round of drinks, Dean made his way back over to the table; much to the surprise of you and Sam.

“Done so soon?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, sliding back into the seat beside you.

“But you only played one round,” you said quizzically.

“So?” Dean wondered, gulping down the rest of his beer.

“So, you usually play a lot more than that,” Sam pitched in, shifting his gaze between you and Dean.

Dean sighed, his bottle clanging on the table as he set it back down. “Why am I getting the third degree here? I played a game, he learned his lesson, I got over it. End of story.”

“Okay, grouchy,” you snickered, ruffling his hair a little just because you knew he hated it. Except he really did love it when it was you doing it.

“Whatever, anyone want another round?” he asked with a huff, lightly swatting your hand away.

“No, I’m gonna call it a night,” you admitted, shifting to slip your jacket back on.

“Yeah, me too,” Sam declared, starting to stand from the table.

Dean stood as well, assumingly just to let you out. “Alright, let’s go.”

You and Sam both stilled in your movements at his response, sharing a shocked look with each other. “You’re… coming with us?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a scoff, shrugging his jacket on as he looked questioningly between you and Sam. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“We just didn’t expect you to call it a night so early,” Sam explained helplessly. “Gettin’ old, huh?” he added, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Yeah, I mean, you barely even wracked up a tab!” you declared with a laugh, before grinning mischievously. “Drinks just don’t agree with you anymore, do they, old man?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his collar just to busy his hands. “Okay, alright, one more wisecrack and I’m leaving you both here.”

Despite the finality in his tone, the amusement dancing in his eyes gave him away - as did the hand he extended to you to help you slide from the booth.

“Whatever you say, grandpa,” Sam teased, patting Dean on the shoulder before walking away with laughter in his wake. “I’ll be outside!”

You chuckled in response, and the stern look Dean gave you only made you laugh even more. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, chuckles,” he chided, wiggling his fingers at you. He surveyed the bar as you finally took hold of his hand, sliding out from your seat with ease and standing before him. “Ready?” he asked, gaze turning back to look down at you.

“Yeah, I just gotta go pay,” you replied, nodding your head in the direction of the bar counter.

“Alright,” he said with a nod. He gave your hand a squeeze, though instead of letting go like he normally would, he held it firmly as he led the way across the bar.

You followed along quietly, trying your hardest to not read too much into it. Though when you stood before the bar and he had yet to release your hand, you gave him a puzzled look. “Did you wanna go get the car?” you asked hesitantly.

He looked confused for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either, before he cleared his throat with a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you out there. Don’t take too long,” he rushed, giving your hand another fleeting squeeze before shuffling away.

Strange, you thought briefly, before shifting your attention to the bartender before you.

As you paid the tab, Dean settled into the driver's seat of Baby, and Sam watched him impatiently drum his fingers against the wheel as he hummed along to whatever song was in his head; and he couldn’t help but snort a laugh as Dean checked his watch one, two, three times since getting into the car.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sam chided with a laugh, shaking his head.

“What?” Dean inquired, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Dude, please tell me you see what’s going on,” Sam pleaded.

Dean widened his eyes in confusion, glancing around the near empty parking lot before looking back at his brother. “What’s going on?”

Before Sam could reply, their attention was caught by the opening of the bar’s door when you emerged from the building, a grin forming on your face as you caught sight of them waiting in the car.

Dean matched your grin, quickly reaching for the door handle and scrambling outside. “There she is!” he greeted happily, opening the back door for you.

“Fucking idiot,” Sam muttered to himself, staring out the window with an amused grin as you and Dean settled into your seats.

The three of you made it back in no time, and, having to settle for a single bed when first getting to town over driving for another who-knows-how-long just to find another motel, shuffled out of the car and into your shared room with heavy feet.

“Finally,” Dean muttered with relief, shutting the door behind him as Sam took a seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Dean barked, holding up a hand. “What’re you doing?”

Sam froze just as he sat on the bed, staring up at his brother. “What?”

“That’s my bed,” Dean declared with a huff.

“No, it’s not,” Sam answered with a scoff. “It’s your turn for the couch.”

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the pull-out!” Dean declared with finality.

“What, are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “You got the bed last time!”

“Yeah, and I just got ragdolled by a crazy ass witch, I deserve a mattress!” Dean argued, stepping towards the bed. “Get up.”

“No,” Sam argued stubbornly, relaxing further atop the sheets.

“You guys are ridiculous,” you said with an exasperated sigh, walking across the room. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Not a chance,” Dean denied, not even sparing you a glance.

“What, why?” you asked in confusion.

“First of all, I’m not sharing with Sam,” Dean replied, turning to look at you. “Second, you got it worse than I did. I’m not shoving you on a pull-out.”

“Oh, please-” you started to argue, before he cut you off.

“I patched you up myself, [Y/N]. Don’t bother trying to lie to me,” he cautioned.

You opened your mouth to argue once more, but the look on his face stopped you short. “Whatever,” you mumbled, turning towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed. Figure this out before I get back so I can actually go to bed, please.”

The bickering resumed as you quickly retreated, shutting the bathroom door on Dean’s disgruntled declaration of “best two out of three.”

By the time you re-entered the room, you were met with silence. Surveying the surroundings, you found Sam digging through his toiletries bag while sitting in his original spot on the bed. Your gaze snapped over to the couch, where Dean sat looking like a kicked puppy.

“You went with scissors again, didn’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He met your gaze as Sam snickered behind you, causing his face to sour even more. “Shut up,” he mumbled before standing, bristling past you with slumped shoulders.

You chuckled quietly to yourself and grabbed the spare sheets, quickly making up the pull-out for Dean while he got ready; hopefully he’d be a little less cranky about it all if this was at least already done.

Once finished, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the covers. After saying a quick goodnight to Sam, you were asleep before Dean even left the bathroom.

Fear gnawed at Dean, his body frozen in place as a cold spread through him, panic clinging to him like ice. He tried to call out to you, but all that left him was a strangled breath as his lungs seized up. He watched as the waves carried you away, further and further from where he stood. By the time his legs finally moved to carry him closer to shore, his feet were so heavy it was as though he was wading through quicksand.

“No, no, no,” he pleaded quietly, watching as the waters edge never grew near no matter how far he ran.

Your voice cried out to him, surging him forward even faster as you drifted ever outwards, terror seeping deeper into his bones with every futile step he took.

He couldn’t reach you.

He couldn’t save you.

The realisation that you were gone caused his world to come crashing down around him as he fell to his knees. A roaring filled his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was the irascible water that held you captive or the blood racing from his pounding heart.

As he stayed there - watching the crashing waves for any sign of you, listening for a call of his name, unwilling to move for fear he’d miss you - the water suddenly crept up around him, as if to mock him.

The sky darkened as he let out an anguished cry, his voice blending in with the storm beginning to brew around him. Yet despite the deafening howls, he heard it clear as day: your voice, calling out to him.

“Dean.”

The world stilled around him once more, your voice ringing out in a whisper as gentle as the wind.

“Dean.”

He stood, frantically searching the horizon for you. He tried to call out, yet his voice still never came.

“Dean!” you called out, voice booming like thunder from above.

A small hand gripped his own, pulling him so forcefully he was yanked off his feet. He let out a startled cry, a spark of lightning igniting so brightly before him that he screwed his eyes shut.

“God dammit, Dean!”

Another force shook him, and when we reopened his eyes, he was met with the suspiciously stained ceiling of the motel room. He bolted upright, heart hammering against his chest as he looked around. He caught your worried gaze as he wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing as you leaned in closer.

“[Y/N?]” he gasped out, pushing himself further upright.

His hand reached out automatically, fingers tentatively brushing against your cheek as if to evaluate your solidity. When he was satisfied that you wouldn’t evaporate, he surged forward to wrap you in a desperate embrace; the icy grip of terror finally starting to melt.

“It was just a nightmare, De,” you soothed quietly, tracing a hand along his back. “Everything’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he said tightly, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as he let you go. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m alright, get back to bed.”

“You’re okay?” you questioned, concern laced in both your face and tone of voice.

“I’m okay,” he affirmed with a nod, casting his gaze aside so you wouldn’t see the panic still swirling within him.

“Okay,” you said softly, placing a gentle kiss upon the crown of his head before standing from the edge of the pull-out.

Dean got up after you to grab a glass of water, his heart jumping in his chest as he remembered the sight of you being ripped away by the current.

“Just a nightmare,” he reminded himself under his breath. “Just a nightmare.”

Not having slept another wink after his nightmare, Dean was unsurprisingly the first one up the next morning. Taking it upon himself to get breakfast for the three of you, he found himself at the nearest diner waiting for his order.

Drumming his fingers impatiently on the sticky linoleum counter, a burning desire to call you began to build within him. Knowing you were likely still sleeping, he decided to busy himself with a stupid game you downloaded on his phone.

Yet the urge to reach out to you grew tenfold as he sat there, a sinking feeling that it might mean you were in danger starting to take hold of him. Just as his mind began to swirl with questions of what the hell was going on with him, he heard your voice calling his name.

His head snapped up, expecting to see you sliding onto the stool beside him, ready to give you hell for walking here in search of him all by yourself in a random town. He figured you must’ve known he was here, and it wouldn’t have been a far walk from the motel, but it was still stupid.

Though the words died on his tongue as he realized you weren’t there, and that familiar feeling of dread trickled through him after scanning the diner and not finding you anywhere.

Another voice called out, this time the waitress, announcing that his order was ready. He met her smiling face with nothing but confusion, her smile faltering for a moment.

“Everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.

“Huh?” he asked, before snapping out of his daze. “Oh, yeah. Just a little too early for me. Thanks-” he paused, squinting to read her name tag. “Thanks, Edna,” he charmed, flashing his signature grin as he gathered the order.

“Anytime, sugar,” she charmed, her smile perking back up as she sent him a wink.

With one last - albeit awkward - grin sent her way, Dean quickly left the diner; already feeling lighter for knowing he’d be back at the motel soon. His grin only grew when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you staring back at him, proving that he wasn’t crazy and you really did come to meet him.

He took a step forward, intending to call out to you, when a truck drove by and blocked you from sight. The grin was wiped from his face and the coffee tray nearly slipped out of his hand when he noticed you had completely disappeared in its wake.

Fearing the worst once more, he scrambled into the car and quickly called you, firing Baby to life as the line rang.

“Hey,” you answered with a stifled yawn. “Please tell me you’re getting breakfast. And coffee.”

“Yeah, I-” he faltered in his response, having to let out a breath of relief as he realized you were safe and sound. “I’ll be back in a few, you and Sammy still there?”

“Where else would we be?” you asked with a giggle.

While the sound would normally bring a smile to his face, your words only caused a frown to appear. “You only waking up now?”

“Don’t judge me,” you teased. “It’s only… ten after seven, I barely slept in.”

“Just not used to being up before you,” he lied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Miracles really do happen,” you joked with a laugh. “You sound weird, is everything okay?” you added, worry tinting your voice.

“Hm?” he wondered, not processing your question right away. “Oh, no- yeah, I-... just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Right,” you said, teetering on the edge of believing him or not.

“Really, I’m good,” he assured, sensing your apprehension. “I just gotta catch some z’s and I’ll be good as new.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then,” you relented. “Drive safe,” you added as an afterthought before hanging up.

The line went dead as he stopped at a red light, his stomach churning as he stared at his reflection in the rearview.

“Just need some sleep,” he assured himself.

“Dude, would you quit it with the pacing?” Sam snapped, setting his book down on the table for sheer lack of concentration.

Dean stopped just long enough to stare daggers at his brother before marching down the library once more. “She’s been gone too long.”

“She’s been gone an hour,” Sam informed, hands running over his face in exasperation.

“Exactly,” Dean replied, pointing a finger at Sam in acknowledgment. “Something must’ve happened.”

“Dude, she’s at the grocery store. With Jack. What the hell could possibly happen?”

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaimed, arms flailing as he whirled to face Sam. “Something must’ve! She hasn’t answered my last text and it’s been-” he paused, pulling out his phone to brandish the screen. “Seven minutes!”

“Oh, my god,” Sam groaned, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you worried?” Dean asked gruffly.

“No, Dean, I’m not worried! There’s no reason to be worried!” Sam proclaimed.

“No reason? She could be dead!” Dean barked, his face taking on an expression of disbelief.

Sam sighed as he leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let me ask you this: why, exactly, do you think she’s dead?”

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Dean grumbled. “We don’t exactly live cookie cutter lives here, you know. One minute she’s returning the shopping cart, and the next she’s got a damn knife in her back!”

“Dean,” Sam soothed. “You know as well as I do that’s a load of crap.”

“No,” Dean argued, shaking his head. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything, you know why?”

Before Sam could even respond, Dean waved his phone around before dropping it on the table. “Because she won’t answer her damn phone!”

“Okay, this is actually ridiculous,” Sam declared. “How can you seriously not see what’s been happening to you?”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Dean muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he began pacing again. “I’m fucking fine.”

“You’re fine,” Sam repeated incredulously. “You’re friggin’ cursed, Dean!”

“I’m not cursed!” shouted Dean. “Would you quit it with that crap?”

“Right, because nothing’s been going on with you lately, right?”

“Right!” Dean agreed with a huff.

“You haven’t been, say, I don’t know…. not sleeping? Feeling stir crazy? Getting paranoid?”

“Sam-”

“No, I’m serious, Dean! How can you not see this?”

“Because I’m fine!” Dean argued, stalling his movements to gather his phone from the table.

After a few moments of silence, Dean rolled his eyes and found himself once more walking the length of the library. “Okay, maybe I’ve been feeling a little weird lately, but I’ve just been tired - and you know what? I survived worse. So yeah, I’m fine!”

“Right,” Sam said sceptically. “And have you… noticed when it is that you feel… weird?”

“I don’t know!” Dean announced frustratedly.

“Dean,” Sam chastised.

“What?”

“You’ve been feeling like this all week, and it’s only getting worse. You’ve been like this since that witch cursed you - and don’t say she didn’t. Use your fucking head, Dean! You’re cursed!”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he tried to remain calm, taking a moment to formulate his response. “You’re insane,” he finally declared.

“I think you’re the insane one,” Sam contested. “You were cursed to yearn for something, Dean. Only in this case… it’s someone.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Dean!” Sam pleaded with a laugh. “The only time you get like this is when you’re more than ten feet away from [Y/N].”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered dismissively.

“You’ve checked your phone another five times since you picked it up.”

“So?” Dean questioned, failing to resist the urge to check it once more. “I’m worried, not cursed.”

“You’re worried because you’re cursed!” Sam argued.

“I’m worried because I lo-” Dean quickly fell silent as the words died on his tongue, his brain firing into total overdrive as he laughed nervously. “I care, that’s why I’m worried.”

Sam stared at his brother in total disbelief, trying to find a way to make him realize what was going on- or, most likely, acknowledge what was going on.

Yet before the conversation could go any further, the bunker door screeched open and the sound of your laughter fleeted down to greet Dean, effectively turning his scowl into an affectionate grin.

“Hope you remembered my pie!” he called out, marching to meet you at the foot of the stairs without so much as a glance back in Sam’s direction.

“When have I ever forgotten?” you asked, feigning offence as you held out the bag which contained his pie.

“Well,” he started, taking the bag from you. “There was that time in Redford-”

“Hey!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I didn’t forget, they were out!”

“See, I still don’t believe you,” he teased, heading for the kitchen.

“Believe whatever you want, Dean,” you replied playfully.

“I’m still waiting for it, you know. You should get me two next time,” he joked, though he was partly serious.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice tentatively called out.

“Yeah?” Dean replied hotly, keeping his back to Sam as he went to grab a beer from the fridge.

“Who, uh… who the hell are you talking to?” he asked carefully, surveying the empty kitchen.

“Hilarious, Sam,” he said dryly, shutting the fridge. “I’m talking to-”

His mouth ran dry as he turned around, being met with just his brother, who was staring with concern from the doorway.

“[Y/N],” Dean finished weakly.

“Her and Jack aren’t back yet, Dean,” Sam said carefully, as though talking to a lost child.

“Yes, they are. They got back, she gave me my pie, we came in here,” Dean said fiercely, his confidence shattering when he went to gesture at the pie he set down moments earlier and found it to be gone.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Sam suggested, not knowing what to do.

“I’m fine!” Dean shouted, hovering over the counter. “I’m fine,” he repeated, moreso to himself than anything.

“Okay, look, how about I try calling [Y/N], okay?” Sam offered, hesitantly walking further into the kitchen. “See when they’ll be back.”

“They are back!” Dean barked, glaring at Sam. “She was just in here!”

Sam didn’t know what to say, the fear and concern for his brother crashing down on him.

“She was just in here,” Dean repeated shakily, meeting Sam’s gaze with confusion.

“Dean,” Sam started to say, before the familiar tone of your ringtone came from Dean’s phone, cutting through the air like a knife.

Dean pulled the phone from his pocket, clearing his throat before answering. “Yeah?”

“Dean, thank god,” you cheered, sighing in relief. “Listen, we came out to a flat tire and I don’t have a spare because I forgot to fucking replace it and there are too many people around for Jack to, you know, try fixing it,” you rambled anxiously. “Can you please come help?”

“You’re still at the store?” Dean clarified, looking up at Sam with frightened eyes.

“Yeah, we’re stuck in the parking lot,” you told him breezily.

“Okay,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Alright, I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, De!” you said happily, ending the call.

Dean stood there for a few moments staring down at his unopened bottle of beer on the counter, trying to gather his thoughts, before finally lifting his gaze to Sam.

“I’ll, uh…. I’ll be back,” he told him, not waiting for a response before trudging out of the kitchen.

You found yourself yet again rushing down the hall to Dean’s room, his muffled yells waking you in the dead of night once more.

He uttered your name as you shut the door behind you, and though it took you by surprise the very first time it happened - nearly two weeks ago, now - it was something you’ve almost come to expect. It was killing you, watching him go through this every night and not being able to fix it. You would sit with him, find ways to gently rouse him from his terror filled slumber and comfort him when he woke, but it never seemed like enough; he deserved more.

At first you didn’t think there was too much going on, figuring his shift in behaviour was just due to his lack of sleep. You didn’t believe Sam when he talked to you about it; Dean may have been acting a little more strange than usual, but it didn’t raise any red flags.

It wasn’t until the morning following your conversation that you noticed it, cluing in and realising how different Dean had been; how long he’d been different. The excess text messages, the increase in phone calls, the insistence on you not going anywhere without him and his exuberant reactions to you getting back safe when you did go somewhere without him, his constant questioning on where you were or where you’ve just been. Something else was going on, and you could only think it really did come down to the witch you two encountered. So you and Sam called up Rowena, getting her take on the situation and figuring out what to do.

Her words now echoed through your head as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed: “Magic isn’t simple. Some curses are anchored by the witch, ending whenever they were to die. But others are more complex, rooted not in the witch but the object of the curse itself, not breaking until their purpose is carried out one way or another. Perhaps if you can figure out what it is Dean needs, you can break the curse yourselves. If this carries on for any longer… I’m worried it will kill him.”

While you ran your fingers through his hair, you decided right then and there that once he woke up, you wouldn’t leave without confronting him about it. You knew it would likely start a fight, and you felt a little guilty knowing you would all but interrogate him right after having another nightmare, but all that guilt flew right out the window the second Dean startled himself awake, the sight of his panic stricken face as he gasped for air nearly bringing you to tears; you’ve seen him like this too often as of late.

“It’s alright, Dean,” you soothed, reaching out to him. “I’m right here, everything’s fine.”

His gaze snapped to you, unable to hide the confusion and terror still coursing through him despite the relief he felt. “[Y/N]?”

“Yeah, De,” you cooed, running a hand across his shoulder blades. “We’re in your room, everyone’s okay.”

He let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head in his hands. “You’re okay,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay.”

You sat quietly with him for a few more minutes, patiently comforting him as best as you could while you thought of how to approach this conversation.

Clearing his throat, Dean was the first to speak again as he rose from the bed. “Sorry I woke you again.”

The dejection and shame laced in his voice tore your heart to bits, and you had to put up a good fight to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Yeah, I do,” he disagreed, trudging to his sink in the corner.

“Dean, please talk to me,” you pleaded, watching as he turned on the water.

You fell silent, waiting for him to deny you and brush you off again. You waited for him to say something, to do something, but all he did was stare at the running water.

“Dean?” you asked cautiously, slowly getting up from the bed yourself.

“I can’t save you,” he muttered quietly, his gaze on the faucet unyielding.

“What?” you asked curiously, not knowing what he meant.

“I can never save you,” he carried on. “You always just… slip away from me. Every time. It’s always the same.”

“What’s always the same?” you questioned, moving closer towards him.

“I try,” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to your presence. “I run, and I fight, and I try, but I can never reach you. I can never get to you.”

He seemed to snap out of his daze a little, moving to splash water over his face before turning off the tap. “You keep dying. I keep watching you die. I can’t watch you die again, [Y/N]. I can’t.”

“This is what your nightmares have been?” you wondered.

He fell silent again for a minute before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah.”

“It’s not real, Dean,” you told him softly.

“It’s real enough for me,” he muttered, turning to face you.

“And is this why you’ve been… acting differently towards me?” you asked hesitantly.

He averted his gaze, hanging his head as he considered your question. “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.”

“Dean,” you scolded with a sigh, plopping back down on the bed. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Because everything’s fine!” he argued once again.

“I’m not stupid, Dean!” you challenged. “I know you. I can see something's eating you alive and it’s fucking killing me to witness it. So please, tell me what the hell is going on.”

“It’s just nightmares,” he lied, crossing his arms against his chest.

“It’s more than nightmares!” you cried. “You’re withering away into nothing, Dean! I mean let’s face it! You’re practically a zombie nowadays with how little sleep you get, you’ve been acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and let’s not forget how completely erratic you’ve been.”

He glared at you, jaw clenching as he decided whether or not to entertain this conversation. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t slept lately,” he admitted starkly. “But like I keep saying, I’m fine.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying?” you sneered, glaring up at him.

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to anywhere else as he shook his head. “No, but I’m getting tired of having this conversation all the time.”

“Well too bad!” you yelled, abruptly standing from the bed. “Cause I’m tired of never having this conversation go anywhere! I’m tired of you brushing off the idea of you being cursed. I didn’t believe it at first either, but what the hell else could it be, Dean?”

“Oh, come on!” he barked, running a hand over his face. “I see Sam got his hooks into you.”

“Yeah, he did. And you need to listen to us.”

“No, I really don’t,” he scoffed, starting to head to the door.

“Even if it kills you?” you blurted out.

“It’s not gonna kill me!”

“God, look at you, Dean! It already is!” you argued, marching closer to him. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?”

He let out a sigh, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before turning back to you. “What?”

“What if it were me going through all this instead of you? Would you let me get away with not even listening to you and Sam?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, staring at you in silence for so long you expected him to turn away again. Instead, he let out a deep breath as he took a seat, gesturing for you to carry on. “Five minutes.”

You almost went to argue before you thought better of it, knowing full well that if Dean never came around to the theory he would actually cut you off at the five minute mark. So, you did your best to recount the entire situation for him, reiterating what you, Sam, and Rowena had to say about it all in the hopes of getting through to him. By the time you finished, you knew it was well over five minutes, so you took Dean not interrupting you to be a good sign.

“Okay,” he finally said with a small nod. “Well, I listened. Can I go now?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, anger and fear bubbling inside of you as you exploded. “God, you are unbelievable!”

“Well what do you want me to say?” he grumbled. “I just don’t believe that’s what’s going on.”

“How can you not believe it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!”

“Look, I said I don’t believe it, alright?” Dean snapped. “Why are you so hellbent on making this into some big fight? Just accept it.”

“No!” you seethed. “I can’t just accept the fact that this could kill you. Especially not when there’s a way we could end this.”

“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You can’t fix this, [Y/N/N]. You just can’t.”

“I can!” you cried. “Just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You know what,” you scolded.

“This is so fucking ridiculous.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Why the hell do you care so much?” he questioned exasperatedly.

“Because I’m fucking terrified, Dean!” you exclaimed. “I’ve watched you grow more restless and anxious every day since the night we finished that case. I’ve seen the life drain from you more and more as sleep became nearly impossible for you. And I know it’s nearly impossible for you, because I have spent the last eleven nights sitting on that bed as you got terrorised by your own mind. I don’t care if you believe in this curse or not, Dean, because I do.”

Dean stood quietly, absorbing what you said as the severity of the situation began to dawn on him.

“I mean don’t you get it?” you asked sadly, cutting through the silence. “If something happens to you, if I lose you… that’s not something I can come back from.”

Dean fell silent once more, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, pacing around the room a little as he turned everything over in his head.

“I’m scared, Dean,” you reiterated softly. “Please, just let us try to fix this.”

“There’s some things I should tell you, then,” he admitted quietly after a moment of silence, taking a seat on the bed.

“About what’s been happening?” you asked hopefully.

He nodded, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you said, moving his desk chair to take a seat. “I’m listening.”

He took a bracing breath, taking a few minutes to build the courage to speak. “Well, you know I’ve been having nightmares.”

“I do,” you agreed quietly.

“It’s always the same one,” he admitted, keeping his gaze cast downwards. “I could never figure out why. It didn't make sense to me why it was always the same thing. So I finally talked to Sam about it, and he had a pretty good theory. But, you know me. I didn’t want to believe it because it came back down to that witch and this stupid fucking curse.”

He let out a bitter laugh, pausing long enough for you to speak up. “What did he have to say about it?”

“I tried telling myself I was fine,” he continued, ignoring your question. “I was fine, at first. At first it was just not sleeping well… but then other things started happening.”

“Other things like what?” you wondered quietly.

“Like my blood feeling like it’s on fucking fire,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “And my skin feeling like it-… like it’s being peeled off my goddamn bones, and my face feeling like it’s melting… and how I get this- this bubble inside my chest that feels like it’s either gonna burst or suffocate me and how it all only happens-” he stopped in his rambling, taking a deep breath before chuckling in disbelief. “God, it only happens when you’re not around, [Y/N].”

“I-... what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly.

“Oh, come on, [Y/N],” he said bitterly. “I know you’ve noticed. I text you more, I’m almost always calling you. I just- I get this… this unwavering panic inside me when you’re not around. I keep-... I swear to god I see you everywhere when you’re gone. I catch sight of you across the street, I smell your stupid shampoo when I’m alone, I hear your voice when no one’s there. I had an entire conversation with you and you weren’t even there,” he carried on, shaking his head as he briskly wiped away an angry tear. “God, I’m going fucking crazy,” he added with a manic chuckle.

“You’re not crazy, Dean,” you said gently.

“That night,” he started, staring at the wall across from him. “She was trying to get back someone she lost… someone she loved.”

“Right,” you agreed.

“They used to drown them, people they accused of being witches,” he continued slowly.

“Yeah, it was pretty common. Sink, and you were innocent. Float, and you were guilty,” you pitched in. “But… what does that have to do with this?”

“I think they were innocent,” he said simply. “Whoever she lost… I think that’s how she lost them.”

“Why do you think that?” you asked curiously.

Dean cleared his throat, staring pensively at his hands once more. “The nightmares. It’s always… you always drown. I keep-... I can never save you.”

“I don’t get-” you started to say, before he cut you off.

“It’s how she lost who she loves, [Y/N],” he said curtly. “It makes sense for me to see the one I love go the same way.”

“I-... what?” you asked, too stunned to think of anything else to say.

“The dreams, the hallucinations, the- the way I’ve been feeling… I didn’t want to admit it, I still don’t, but I can’t… I mean I can only ignore it for so long, right?” he said, scoffing quietly. “Especially with you and Sam breathing down my neck about it.”

“Ignore what, Dean?” you asked breathlessly, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You,” he muttered. “They way I feel about you. The way I’ve always felt about you.”

You didn’t dare respond, his words ringing in your ears as he fell silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts for a while.

“I’ve always known that I love you, [Y/N/N],” he carried on, slowly meeting your gaze with glistening eyes. “But this… this curse, this whatever it is. God, it’s just made it all so much worse, and I knew. I knew it was you that my entire being was screaming out for but I couldn’t… I couldn’t admit it.”

“Why not?” you asked shakily, feeling your tears starting to build.

“How could I put that on you?” he asked, a few rogue tears slipping down his face. “You said it yourself, this thing is killing me. It’s gonna kill me, unless I get what I want, and given that that’s you, I’m calling it game over.”

“No, Dean, it’s not,” you denied with a sniffle, cutting through your own stray tears. “You should’ve told me.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, shrugging lightly as he looked back at his hands. “I told you now.”

“Dean,” you sighed, wiping your face as you stood from your seat. “Do you trust me?” you asked, walking towards him.

“Of course I do,” he said quickly, almost offended by the question.

“Okay, well, I’ll need you to trust me on this,” you replied, stopping just in front of where he sat.

“Okay,” he said with a huff.

“You gotta look at me, though,” you said, laughing softly.

Sighing dejectedly, he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he looked at you.

You smiled softly at him, gently taking his face in your hands before wordlessly bringing your lips down to meet his. At first, neither of you really knew what was happening, and just when you thought to pull away you felt his lips moving against your own. His hands gripped your waist to hold you in place a moment longer before you each pulled away, staring silently at each other as you processed what just happened.

“What, uh… what was that for?” Dean finally asked.

“Well, it was either that or slapping some sense into you,” you said playfully. “Which I almost think you still deserve, because I can’t believe you honestly think I don’t love you back.”

“What?” he asked, his grip on your waist loosening in shock before tightening once more.

“You’ve had me since the day we met, Dean,” you told him softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

“You actually…” he trailed off quietly, trying to focus his thoughts. “You actually love me, of all people?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.”

“So I- well, I guess I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I really did just tell you, huh?” he asked jokingly, laughing tightly.

“I’ll give you hell for it tomorrow,” you teased, half serious. “For now, how about we try getting you back to sleep?”

“Actually,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a better idea involving this bed.”

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh, grinning fondly at him. “Oh, really?”

He grinned back, laughing with you before taking on a more sombre tone. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” you said honestly.

“Good,” he replied with a grin, laughing heartily at the shriek you let out when he tossed you on the bed.

He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before painted on his face. “What?” you asked, giggling nervously.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

“I love you, too,” you replied shyly, grinning softly.

He matched your grin, drinking you in a moment longer before crashing his lips upon yours once more.

When Dean woke the next morning, it didn’t take long for a grin to spread across his face as he quickly realized two things.

The first thing being that you, the love of his life, still remained tangled up in both his arms and the sheets, sleeping peacefully atop his chest.

The second being that, for the first time in a total of thirteen days, he was able to sleep without being haunted by his nightmares.

He felt you stir, and his grin widened as you nestled in closer, tightening your grip on him as you slept. He planted a kiss against your temple, pulling you in close as he blissfully settled in for another peaceful rest.

Maybe witches aren’t so bad.

tagging: @roseblue373

let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

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mommypieck · 1 year ago

Text

⌗︙・brothel owner geto ⸜⸜・

brothel owner geto says he doesn't have a favorite worker... until it comes from you. his whole face lights uo when you come running to sit on his lap. he opens his arms so you can jump into them, showing geto how much money you made. as much as he wants to listen to you rant about different costumers, he's more interested in that bra you are wearing. his hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them together, few bills falling from your bra.

"is that a new set?" he asks with his hands still groping your tits. you don't mind, you love when mr. geto touches you.

"mhm," you nod your head, throwing your arms around his neck, "i picked it because it's your favorite color." suguru almost melts when you say that.

he takes your hand, leading down back to the apartments where you take care of the clients. when the door closes, he has his mouth on yours. he kisses you hungrily, opening the bra to let your boobs free. he puts pressure on your shoulders, telling you to kneel in front of him. you smirk, knowing exactly what he wants to do. you pull his pants down, his cock hitting you in the face. it's your favorite cock.

"how much do they pay you for blowjob, 30$?" he asks you and you not. he sends you a sweet smile, "i have to raise your prices."

he thrusts his cock in your mouth, making you choke a bit. after all, he's the biggest cock you take at this job. you lick at his base, loving how heavy he feels in your mouth. geto sets his own pace, thrusting in and out of your mouth just like he likes it.

all those dirty man always wait for you to do something but geto is confident and he knows what he wants. that's what you love about him.

your hand cups his balls, stroking it while he uses your mouth like a toy. you close your eyes, something about him just using you is so calming to you.

geto thought about it a lot and maybe it's town to do what he wanted to do for a long time.

"open your mouth." he tells you, tapping his cock on your tongue before he shoots his cum deep inside, some of it landing on your face.

that's it, he decided what he wants to do with you.

"baby, do you want to only work for me?" his question confuses you a little, you're working for him right now.

"but i am working for you." he chuckles at your response.

"i mean only for me. i would be the only one fucking you."

you furrow your eyebrows. does he mean that he wants you to be his personal escort?

"but im gonna miss the sex." you whine. he smiles at you, "don't worry, baby. we're gonna have a lot of sex. maybe i'll even get you pregnant. you're gonna understand once you're with me."

#jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru smut

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luveline · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.

“I’m thinking.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”

“You’re truly humble.”

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”

“I’m not traumatised.”

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”

“What did he say to you?”

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”

“Did he call you that?”

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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anantaru · 4 months ago

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・✶ ｡ synopsis — fucking your enemy doesn't really sound like a good plan or wait, maybe it does! <3

warnings — enemies to lovers, fingering, playful childe, fem! reader

childe always approaches you with that damn smirk on his face, his gaze intense and unwavering, a sprinkle of confidence playing on his lips.

the harbinger had always been your enemy, the embodiment of danger and excitement, and despite the many battles the both of you had fought, you couldn't lie to yourself but admit that there was an undeniable pull between you— a connection you refused to acknowledge, even to yourself at times.

"ah, you fought well today," childe's was barely out of breath as he throws his hands up in the air to feign defeat, his voice low and husky, a dangerous edge to his tone, "but you're not as strong as you think you are, heh."

without batting your lashes, you glare back at him with your body tense of anger, every single nerve inside on edge, "—and you're still as arrogant as ever, childe."

fuck, how much he adored it whenever you showed him a little of your sweet temper, it's a little salty too but he doesn't mind that— in fact, it gets him going and arouses something deep below.

naturally his smirk widens the moment you say it, his eyes darkening with something far more primal that he'd originally let on, "me? arrogant? oh am i? or am i just confident?"

you roll your eyes and before you could even find a good enough response, he instantly closes the distance between you in a swift stride— without haste, folding your spirit in half with his presence becoming overwhelming.

in an attempt to turn around and leave his hand grabs towards your arm, gripping your wrist with a surprising gentleness that was never experienced before by you, yet with the strength you've known far too well, one that left no room for escape.

"you think you can hide it from me? i can see it in your eyes, you know," he murmurs underneath his heightened breathing, slanting towards your face closer and closer until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, "the way you look at me, you see? the way your body reacts when I'm near like that— ugh, you're so shy, but I know you've been dreaming about this, as have i, or haven’t you?"

your heart races at the absurdity in his sentence— or was there even a sprinkle of a lie inside of it? how long until you cannot run from the feelings you harbored for him anymore? or was it simply lust that kept the drive inside of yourself working.

a mixture of fear yet also excitement floods your senses— you really wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, his words struck a deep chord within you, you're doomed and yes, in fact, you had dreams about him— of feeling him inside you, feeling his cock twitch and thicken while he's grinding himself in you, fucking your tight cunt as the fantasies of surrendering to the raw, forbidden desire consumed you.

you knew he must be good in bed, amazing even, there was no chance in hell that he wasn't with that striking personality of his.

"cut the crap childe, i don't know what you're talking about," you stammer back, but my dear, don't you hear? your voice betrayed you just this second, right in front of his eyes as you began to tremble with the weight of your secret longing dying to be set free.

"oh? but i think you do," he whispers before saying your name so sensually that it felt like someone's set your body on fire.

the man continues as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck;

"you've wanted this for so long, right? this—"

and before you could muster a response, his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that made your brain rewire, the touch of his lips strong and ruthless as one hand slid up to cup the back of your head, holding you firmly in place.

you weren't surprised by how childe kissed you, in fact, you imagined how it felt like— granted, it was better than you originally fantasized.

the kiss was rough, as if he was looking for an answer, and it shattered the last bit of your very resistance as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body igniting with a fire you had tried so hard to suppress— yet, was it actually bad that you went against your own beliefs? just this once?

of course, you both were on different sides, supporting different agendas but this— fuck, this, it felt so good, why was the darkness childe expelled so mesmerizing? like biting into a poised apple and still relishing in getting tainted?

the harbingers hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he had every right to do this and his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine before he pushed you against the cold stone wall, the contrast between the cool surface and his heated skin only heightening your needful senses.

although before going further, he abruptly stopped the kiss, at last lapping across your bottom lip and seeking your gaze, "tell me you want this, i need this," he growls against your lips, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising energy, "tell me you've dreamed of this moment too."

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, a shaky whimper escaping your lips as you felt the grip on you tighten. each one of his touch, his breath hitting your skin and his words played into your beating heart and you couldn't, you just weren't able to stop your body from liking this.

your back arches a little as to show him without words, without needing to admit it— right now, you weren't sure if you could ever say it out loud.

like snowfall, his touch was cold, but it felt oddly comforting.

but you let him move forward as one hand slips beneath your clothes, finding your wetness between your thighs, your folds messed up and puffy for him. "childe i— i... i want this too," you admit against your own volition, the words tumbling out before you could even stop them, "i’ve dreamed of you, childe, maybe..."

you got him now— or, does he have you wrapped around his finger instead? regardless, his eyes blaze with a glistening triumph hanging over his irises as he captures your lips again.

he begins slowly, his fingers working around your hole with expert precision, circling your entrance and collecting your slick with such precision which you originally only knew of his ways of fighting as he coaxes out every inch of your pleasure.

you're writhing and hiding your moans into his chest, the volume of your whimpers growing when he pokes one finger in.

with a growl, he rips your shirt aside to expose your breasts, the fabric tearing in his haste— and before you knew it, his own jacket followed as you helped discard them quickly.

"look at me," he commands, "feel how i touch you there," as his voice resembles a rough whisper.,"i want to see the look in your eyes when i touch and touch you,"

you obeyed, meeting his gaze, your breath hitching as he thrusts one finger into you with a single, powerful flick forward.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming, not due to the fact that he was beginning to stimulate your hole with fast thrusts of his digit fucking in and out of you but the sole thought of childe doing it was the final nail in the coffin.

your heart was beginning to hurt from riding his fingers, furiously rattling against your ribcage as you threw out the last amount of dignity you had inside your body, becoming one with the movements of his hand before starting to seek it.

his wet tongue drags from your neck towards your collar bones before reaching your nipples, immediately taking one in his mouth as the heel of his hand began to press into your clit painfully hard, the feeling only multiplying when you shoved yourself into it more, better and deeper, until your body flashes you with a heat you cannot escape.

one more finger, more, and each pump turned rougher and moredemanding with the pace of his hand being relentless, cruel as you almost climaxed by just looking at him— how his wet lips left a trail of saliva on your slicked chest and ugh, that delirious glimmer in his eyes.

childe truly likes the feeling of you clenching around his knuckles, he might become addicted to it, and he believes he'd actually die a happy man if he'd be able to feel you squeeze around his thick cock like that.

but you have to do it just like that, with your pussy drooling over his desperately and touch depraved, so he could taste you right after, yeah? have you all around his tongue.

he's not sure if he can even fit inside, ah, how excited he gets when he imagines your eyes glow and turn all big and pretty when he lets you see him from below his clothes— he knows for a fact he will make it fit.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe x reader #childe x you #childe smut #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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crimsonbubble · 7 days ago

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arrogant ceo yunho who gets knocked down by his cute little intern

He works his employees to the bone, forcing long, gruelling hours and unnecessary overtime. He finds it amusing how easily anyone bends over backwards to please him. He loves knowing how many people hate him but can't afford to lose their jobs, so they never formally complain. You've been dealing with this for months, just trying to get through your internship without pulling your hair out, yet Mr. Jeong always finds a way to add more to your plate and make you redo reports.

Everyone has a breaking point, so when your recent report gets flagged, again, you can only purse your lips and turn to your computer to redo it—until you get called into his office. You swear you could feel your eye twitch, your nails digging into your palms as you clench your fists in an attempt not to break everything on your desk.

You march to his office, throwing open the door without knocking or waiting for approval. "Do you find joy in making your employee's lives miserable?" His door hadn't even been closed when you started in on him. Mr. Jeong quirks a brow, a scoff leaving his lips as he pushes reports aside on his desk. With a clenched jaw, you stalked over to his desk, wrapping his tie around his hand and yanking him forward.

His eyes widened as a staggered gasp left his mouth at your incredulous action. “Do you think… this is a laughing matter, Mr. Jeong?” Your voice is hauntingly smooth as you tug on his tie again. “I can terminate your contract for this stunt.” He internally groaned at how shaky his breath was as he talked. You chuckled dryly. “You won’t, though.” You stare into his eyes, glazed over with bottled emotions. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you know I do this job better than any employee here,” You tightened your grip on his tie. “And you’d be damned to lose me.” His office suddenly feels a lot hotter, his throat dry as he tries to focus on the fury in your eyes and not your soft lips that are pulled taut.

Mr. Jeong's lips press together, his eyes locked onto yours, trying to reclaim the authority that has suddenly slipped from his grasp. You can see the conflict brewing in his gaze—indignation fighting with undeniable acknowledgment. He knows you're right. You’ve always known. That’s why he pushes you the hardest, testing how far you'll go, seeing if you'll break.

For a moment, he’s speechless, his bravado slipping as he struggles to find a response. “This—” he starts, his voice wavering slightly. “This is unacceptable behaviour.” But you don’t let go. Instead, you lean closer, and you can feel his breath hitch. He’s always been untouchable, but right now, he’s caught—like prey staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

You feel something snap inside you—a dam breaking. All the pent-up frustration, all the swallowed rage. “You know what’s unacceptable?” you say, your voice low and laced with contempt. “Being treated like a machine. Expecting loyalty without respect. You think your power gives you the right to treat us like we’re beneath you. But not me. Not anymore.”

His face flushes, and for the first time since you started here, he looks unsure. Vulnerable. It's as if you've shattered the carefully crafted mask he wears every day. You can see him wavering, his confidence fraying like a thread about to snap. You’ve never seen him this way—off-balance, unguarded. There's a strange thrill in watching him come undone, knowing that you've managed to pierce the armour he hides behind.

“Let me be clear,” you say, loosening your grip just enough to let him breathe but not enough for him to pull away. “I will finish this report, and I will do it perfectly like I always do. But from now on, you're going to treat me with the respect I deserve—or I walk. And believe me, you will feel it when I’m gone.”

He’s silent, the room thick with tension. Slowly, you release his tie, smoothing it back down against his chest. His breathing is uneven, his eyes wide, but he doesn’t stop you. He watches you like he’s never really seen you before, and maybe he hasn’t. Maybe you've been just another employee to him until now, another cog in the machine.

“Get back to work,” he says, but the command lacks its usual edge. You turn to leave, not bothering to wait for a dismissal this time. As you step through the doorway, you don’t slam the door shut. You leave it slightly ajar, knowing he’s still staring after you, something in the atmosphere between you changed forever.

Back at your desk, you start the report again, your hands steady, your mind clear. There's a new feeling thrumming in your chest—an unfamiliar, heady sense of power. For the first time, you think he might be the one who’s afraid to lose you.

And that realization? It makes you smile.

Yunho sat in his office, staring at the office door you walked out of. His breathing came out hot and heavy, his heart racing in his chest. He knows he shouldn’t, but your fire is eating him alive. He can feel it crawl into every crevice of his being, lighting him up from the inside out. He leans back in his chair, trying to will his mind to be anywhere other than his pretty little intern.

Wait.

His pretty little intern…

His mouth fell agape, wondering where the audacity of his own thoughts was coming from. His attempt to think of anything but you was futile; no matter what he did, his thoughts found their way back to you. He ran a hand over his face, a dull throb in his head as he paced around his office. He shook his head with a huff, striding over to his door.

His eyes are scanning the cubicles and desks, watching as all employees avoid eye contact. He walks with a purpose, making his way to your desk. You nonchalantly sip on your coffee, holding a hand out to stop him before he can speak, opting to finish typing out the email before hitting send. He stared at you with disdain, his tongue poking his cheek as he sighed out his frustration. You turned in your chair, cocking your head. “My office. Now.”

“For what reason?” Yunho quirked a brow, taking notice as other workers stopped their work to witness the scene upon them. “Oh? Already forgot the stunt you pulled in my office?” Yunho leaned his hands on your desk, lowering his head to yours. “The only one pulling stunts is you, Mr. Jeong ‘never leaves his office for anything or anyone’ Yunho.” The other workers whispered among themselves, silently applauding you in your stance against your big, bad boss.

Yunho pulled out a folded paper from his jacket, straightening up before throwing it in front of you. “Alright then, here’s your final assignment. Appear in my office in two minutes or face termination.” A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips as he put his hands in his pockets, making his way back to his office. You eyed the folded paper, scoffing at his absurdity. He actually handed you a termination letter.

You clutched the paper tightly as you got out of your seat. You threw it into your desk trashcan, grumbling as you made your way into his office. He sat against his desk, his hands still in his pockets yet his coat was off this time. He briefly took a hand out of his pocket, beckoning you over with a finger. As you stood in front of him, you could smell the cologne waving off him; a mix of earthy tones and sweetness.

Yunho waited for the click of his door, ensuring that it was closed before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. His lips found yours with ease. His kiss was rushed, fueled by the emotions from earlier. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His voice is hushed as he whispers against your lips. His hands stay busy on your waist, tugging your hips closer. You smile into the kiss, letting Yunho’s hands explore your body like he’s done many times before. You slide your hands lower, palming over the obvious bulge in his slacks.

“Fuck, I need you now.” Yunho turns you around, moving you to bend over his desk. He unceremoniously tugs your pants down your thighs, groaning as he eyes the lace trimming of your panties. Yunho shoved your panties to the side, letting his leaking cock bump against your clit. You jolt against his desk, clawing at the wood. Yunho leans against your back, taking your hands in his. The ring on his finger catches against your matching one.

“Gonna be good for me, honey? Be a good girl for daddy, huh?”

#bubbly speaks <3 #bubbly writes <3 #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #yunho smut

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imaginaryf1shots · 7 months ago

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Age | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 3.6K

Warning: Age Gap, cursing? kissing

Summery:(REQUESTED) When you fall for your boss who is much older than you.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Getting with Lewis wasn't what you sat out to do, you started working for his LH team, managing their social media and content. They felt like a younger person would best suit the job, Lewis wasn't involved in hiring you. In fact you hadn't seen him until a few weeks after you were hired. When you were sent to film him for content to post on Instagram. Lewis is a very nice man, it's a well known fact. Everyone that has ever

worked with him would tell you this(just don't ask Nico).

You haven't always been drawn to older men; you don't think about age that much. As long as you're both legal and mature, why not? But it wasn't like a kink or a plus in your books. Lewis just drew you in. Maybe it was his confidence, his maturity, or something completely different that captivated you. What you know for sure is that Lewis had your attention the moment you met and talked; there was no denying it. The pull you had, how easy it was for you to talk and have a laugh, was undeniable. Your relationship started professionally, but the more you met, the more you talked, and the more you got to know each other, the closer you got. And when you exchanged personal phone numbers, it was game over. You were calling each other all the time, texting, and FaceTiming. You hadn't reached the point of meeting when there was no reason to. But then Lewis had you travel with him under the guise of needing content, even though Mercedes had its own media managers.

You were denying your feelings. Lewis is an older, more experienced man, and he could have any woman he wants, why would he care or be interested in you, you found no reason for it. All the calls and texting you just convinced yourself is him being nice. Maybe he sees you as a mentee and nothing else.

You were at a hotel room in New York, Lewis had a shoot for one sponsor or the other plus a fashion event to attend. The sponsor stuff was already filmed and done the day before, so that was that. Meaning you'd only photograph Lewis with his outfit to the event and your day of work would be done. Your room was booked in the same hotel as Lewis, definitelydefiantly not as lush as his but it was a five star hotel, your room was amazing. You were lounging a bit in your room until you receive a call that Lewis was

done changing. You hear a knock on the door, you haven't ordered room service, so it came as a surprise.

Getting up from your comfy position on the bed, you open the door to see one of the hotel staff standing in front of you with a clothes bag in hand.

"Hi? How can I help you?" You ask the man, who had a polite smile on his face.

"I was asked to bring this to you." The man tries to hand you the bag but you step back.

"Are you sure you got the right room?" You're certain there must be a mistake why would you be sent a clothes bag

"You're Ms. y/n y/n, right?" You nod with a small yes. The man then smiled bigger and handedhands you the bag again. "Then this is for you."

You hesitate before taking the bag, thanking the man and then closing the door. You open the bag and a dress that is more expensive than anything you own is there waiting for you. Your mouth drops, the dress is stunning, you don't know the brand but it lookslooked amazing. After the shock of seeing the dress wore off you lay it on the bed and find your phone, pressing Lewis's name in the recently calls and press the phone to your ear

"Hello"

"Don't hello me." You say looking at the dress as if it just called you cheap in every language on earth, your tone is not happy and Lewis picks up on it instantly

"What's wrong, love? What did I do?" Lewis has an inkling why you're not happy with him and he's trying not to smile, but he's failing miserably

"You just sent me a dress, for some unknown reason, and I bet it cost an arm and a leg!" You exclaim and Lewis could imagine you pouting as you talk, he lets out a small giggle.

"Look it's from one of my favourite up and coming designers and I saw the design and I instantly thought of you." Lewis defends himself, it's the same designer that designed his clothes for the day.

"So you bought it for me?" You ask in disbelief.

"Yeah." Lewis replied as if it's the most normal thing ever

"Lewis!"

"Yes, baby girl." You instantly stop when you hear the new pet name, Lewis calls you love a lot but that's just because he's British. But this, this new, it got you blushing and struggling to say anything, you're feeling shy and speechless. Damn that man, he knew what he was doing "Seeing as you're not saying anything, I expect to see you in that dress when you come up, also I'll be done in 15 minutes or so."

Lewis hangs up and you're left there staring at the dress, before you sigh. Thankfully you showered this morning, so you just started on your make-up a simple look that will complement the dress nicely, and do your hair. It's more than 15 minutes, but you haven't gotten a call from Lewis or anyone else in the team. Once you're finished and with small heels on you're making your way up to Lewis's suite.

It doesn't take long before the door opens by the designer, she gasps looking at you and grins

"You look stunning" You blush at the praise and walk in

"It's all thanks to you." You wave her compliment off.

"Thanks, but it's the person in the clothes that brings out the beauty of the designs." She tells you and you can't fight the redness in your cheeks. "Lewis is in there."

You go to the room she's pointing at, you're holding your camera equipment bag in your hand. You walk in and see Lewis standing in front of the mirror, inspecting everything about his look. He doesn't look up when you walk in, so you take the moment to take him in, the see-through shirt allows you to see the faint outline of his abs and muscles, his tattoos on show.

Lewis feels your presence, he looks at you and you don't realise it so caught up in checking him out. Happy with himself he takes a moment to look at you, and you're stunning, the dress fits you like a glove, tight in the right places and loose in the right places. He's never seen you so dressed up. Lewis is out of his trace before you are. He clears his throat and your eyes snap to his

All you see in his eyes is amusement, the blush comes back to your cheeks but you ignore it and him and take out your camera.

"You're done right?" You ask him busying yourself. You already know where you want to take the photos, where the best lighting is for everything

"You look stunning, love." Lewis's words once more stun you, and you pause in your actions before you look up at him once more, meeting his coffee coloured eyes.

"It's not practical." You say and stand straight your free hand runs over the dress to smooth out any wrinkles, suddenly feeling insecure. Lewis is always having women thrown at him, models and beauty queens, all stunning, and here you are, just him social media manager/photographer

"It's not meant to be practical, besides after the photos, you're off for the night, and you're coming as my plus one." Lewis states and your eyes go wide

"W-What? No, Lewis I can't go as your plus one." You tell him with a shake to your head.

"Why not?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Because... I just can't, H-I don't want to." You mumble, looking at the floor not meeting his eyes.

"You don't have to walk the carpet with me, just go inside and join me there." Lewis doesn't want to take it personally, he knows being seen with him comes with a lot of packages and you're not even dating yet.

"Okay, yeah, I can do that." You say and look at him and swallow, Lewis had a smile on his face, as his eyes held you in. You cough and wave your camera. "Let's take some photos now.”

Lewis knows how to pose and it doesn't take long before you have the shots you're both happy with, before Lewis leads you to the mirror with his phone in hand.

"Come on, one of us together." Lewis's smile makes it hard for you to refuse, his arm wraps around you pulling you close to his side, you gasp and his quick movement your hand falls onto his chest to stabilise yourself. You look up, and his face is so close to yours, he's facing the mirror, and clicks his phone to capture the look on your face as you look up at him, Licking your lips slightly you face the mirror and

smile, ignoring your fast beating heart, it's so fast Lewis must feel it. You both pose for a few more, all with Lewis's hand one you one way or the other.

The car ride is filled with small talk, as Lewis and the designer talk, they'll walk the red carpet and you'll be dropped at another entrance. You're sitting between Lewis and the designer. You pull at your cuticles an anxious tic you have when you're anxious. Lewis doesn't look at you, before he takes your hand in his. Your heart skips a beat. Lewis only lets go when you arrive, both their doors are open, and before he lets go of your hand he gives it a squeeze and he gets out

Your seat is next to the designer close to where Lewis is sitting, they have all the A-listers sitting next to each other. But Lewis does come to talk to you before the show begins, and makes sure you're okay. But you only get talking after the show. Where the music is playing, people are dancing and the drinks are flowing at the open bar

"Your first show, what do you think?" Lewis asks you, you're both deciding not to drink since you have flights tomorrow.

"It was great." You reply with a smile. "It was so much fun... thank you."

"No worries, did you take any pictures?" Lewis asked and you shook your head no. "We can't have that, come on, I know a spot upstairs"

Lewis doesn't wait or hesitate, he takes your hand in his and leads you through the crowds, he helps you up the stairs like the gentleman he is. The place he takes you to is empty, the lighting is good and the music is faint. Lewis lets go of your hand and takes out his phone.

"Okay, Mr. photographer, where do you want me?" You tease him and move your arms shyly.

"Right here." Lewis moves you to where he wants and you pose, Lewis hypes you up. "You look great love, a little to the right, yes, now move your shoulder to the front, right there, wow, this one looks amazing, look at you posing."

For the next 15 minutes Lewis takes all sorts of photos, the last ones being a close up of your upper body and face. You don't look at the lens for those you look at him, and maybe that's why they're his favourite. You stand even closer to the older man as you look at the photos he took.

"Look at you go, if you even want to switch careers, photography will do you good." You smile and then look up at him, he's already looking at you and for the hundredth time today, your heart starts beating faster. He's so close to you, you can smell his cologne. Is he? Is he moving closer? Or is it just your mind playing tricks on you? You lick your lips and his eyes move from yours down to follow the movement.

You're already wearing heels, so you couldn't tip toe to close the distance, but you didn't have to, because Lewis leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as a shiver went down your spine. Lewis's lips moved against yours once, twice, thrice before he pulled back all too suddenly. The warmths that overwhelmed you is suddenly gone. Lewis’s hands are gone and he takes a step back, your eyes flutter open and all you see is regret. The insecurity is hitting you hard.

”W-w…”

”I’m so sorry love, I didn’t mean to- I just- I’m sorry.” Lewis found himself unable to find the words, he has liked you for a long time, but here he is after kissing you suddenly doubting himself.

”No, no it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.” You say and look to the side, your hands wrapped around your middle, you swallow.

”No, I have to, I didn’t ask and I don’t know if you wanted me to kiss you and I just did.” Lewis says and you realise why he stopped, why he looked so regretful. He thought you didn’t like it, that he forced you, he thought you didn't like it. “I’m your boss, and I may have pressured you into it and I never wanted to do something like this, I completely understand if- why? Why are you smiling?”

”Oh Lewis Hamilton, the man you are.” Lewis is now left confused, you step closer to him, and Lewis stands still with his hands down by his sides, as you place your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles under your fingertips. “If you only knew how much you affect me, I just thought it was one-sided, that you see me as a child or something.”

”Believe me baby girl, I see you as the woman you are.” Lewis’s voice drops a few octaves that have you shivering. His hand makes the small of your back home, he pulls you closer so you’re flush against him, a gasp leaves your lips, and his hand moves down to the top of your butt.

”Lewis.” You breathe out, your eyes fluttering.

”Sweetheart.” Those fucking pet names will be the death of you, this time you pull him by the back of his neck down to meet your lips. The soft moanes leaving your lips leave him wanting for more.

You don't know how long you stood there for but by the time you were done with the little make out session you both had to fix your lipstick. The lavish bathroom you both stand in front of the mirror, trying to wipe the lipstick. Exchanging smiles and giggles through the mirror, pumping hips and kisses.

”Lewis stop, we can’t kiss, I have lipstick on.” You say giggling halfheartedly pushing him away.

”Once I got a taste I couldn’t resist.” You blush and tell him to stop once more, before you both leave the bathroom. Going back to the event downstairs you both act as if nothing appended, and somehow you sell it.

Safe to say, you’re stuck to each other’s side. Lewis flies you everywhere and your relationship turns from professional to romantic slowly in front of the others, but to you two, after that night in New York you were dating.

You dreaded the time the media will find out, you know there’s two ways it will go, either they will go after Lewis or they will go after you. And you think they’ll go after you. Your appearance in the paddock was nothing new, but your appearance at dinners with other drivers and wags was new. No one said anything or commented, you got on super well with the wags. You did share your fears with Kika and Alex, they gave you as much advice as they could and told you what to expect. It’s always hard when a driver hard launches or even is just rumoured to be with someone.

You and Lewis didn’t get the chance to hard launch or soft launch, or do any of that sorts. A paparazzi somehow found you while you were on vacation and snapped a lot of pictures of the two of you in intimate positions. Kissing, cuddling, hands all over each other, there was no way of getting out of that one.

So during the next race Lewis walked into the paddock with your hand in his, the fans weren’t 100% who you were when the photos were leaked, but the moment you walked in all your social media was out for everyone to see. The things you were both scared of the most, happened. The fans weren’t happy with the age gap, you were both adults but it seemed like everyone knew why you were dating but you too. And that Lewis is just too nice to know that you’re with him for money. The almost 40 year old didn’t know any better. Like a lot of wags you received a lot of hate, and Lewis hadn’t confirmed a relationship in years, so you were an awaited wag.

You both expected all of this, what you didn’t expect is for every driver that interacted with Lewis to have their social media flooded with messages and comments of people telling them to tell Lewis that you were using him, and that the age gap is disgusting.

Lando was streaming once and he was talking about Mercedes or something when the chat took that turn.

”Come on chat, don’t be mean.” Lando said after he noticed all those comments. “You don’t know y/n and Lewis, they’re perfectly happy and there’s nothing to worry about. Let’s all just care about ourselves.”

Lily and Alex were live on Instagram for one reason or the other and they also got a ton of comments, especially since Lilly was seen hanging out with you a Friday of a race weekend.

“Believe me guys, y/n, is the nicest person ever, she’s so understanding and sweet.” Lilly said to the viewers, after seeing where the comments turned to.

”We’ve actually gone out with them a few times, and they look happy and in love.” Alex added.

”I haven’t been around LEwis much, but I feel like he looks… happier and more content?” Lily said and looked at her boyfriend.

”Yeah, I think George said as well, he looks happy and that this relationship is doing them both a lot of good.” Alex said and Lily nodded with him. “It’s good when you get into a relationship and you become better and happier.”

”Yeah.”

Things like that kept happening, and there were some videos of you and Lewis posted online just being lost in each other while dancing, having dinner or even just walking. The way you’d give each other all the attention when you’re talking is something admirable.

All those things online, affected you, you hated how negative your space online became, how much it became on Lewis’s accounts, and on the other drivers’ accounts as well. What it didn’t affect is your relationship with Lewis.

Lewis wasn’t happy, of course he wasn’t. You’re his girlfriend and his ‘fans’ are attacking you online, he can see how your smile never reached your eyes when you said you were okay. It affected you to some degree.

So he just hugged you tighter, told you he loved you more, and tried everything to keep you away from all that talk.

“What are you doing?” You mumble as you wake up from your slumber, you went back to the hotel after FP2, feeling tired, and Lewis having to stay back for a long meeting. It was almost midnight when he made it back to the room and found you sleeping in the middle of the bed. Lewis stripped to his boxers and slipped beside you. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, this roused you from your sleep.

”Just want to hold you.” He said softly and kissed your cheek, you smiled and cracked your eyes open just a little, you turned around so you’re facing him. You cuddle more into him, nuzzling your face in his neck, as he laid on his back.

”How was the meeting?” You asked barely coherent, and Lewis knows you’ll ask again in the morning, that everything that will come out of your mouth right now is just your subconscious and that you will remember nothing.

”It was good, there’s going to be a few changes to the car tomorrow.” Lewis told you rubbing your back.

”Do we like it?” You ask, knowing that your stance on things is his stance on things, when it comes to driving and cars.

”Yeah, but we’ll see tomorrow.”

”Hmm, that’s good.” You fall silent and Lewis thinks you fell asleep before you say a barely audible. “I love you.”

”I love you too, baby girl.”

It took time, but the public came to accept the fact you’re here to stay and you’re not just using him for a week or two, for clout or anything of that sort. IT got better. But it never went away, and you don’t think it will. You don’t plan on breaking up with Lewis any time soon and you don’t think he will. And that’s all that mattered, you’re both happy and content with what you have.

Maintaglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog

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hoshifighting · 1 month ago

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thoughts abt svt who’s s/o has a mommy voice 🙏

(i stalk ur account everyday 😭 i love your work sm 💗💗💗)

seungcheol’d try to act like he’s unaffected—like he’s too strong to be fazed by anything—but the minute you start with that slow, sexy tone, calling him “good boy�� or something, his determination would just pulverize. he’d give you this look like he’s trying so hard to stay dominant, but deep down, seungcheol loves when you take control, especially when you use that voice. it’d hit him in a way he’s not ready for, and suddenly, all his confident energy is slipping away.

jeonghan would love it. he’d smirk at first, maybe tease you about how you're trying to “boss him around,” but you know that teasing smile is just a front. as soon as you start with that velvety tone, calling him out, telling him how good he’s making you feel, he’s the one who’s suddenly flustered. pretends to be unaffected, while his mind is spinning from how hot it is.

joshua the cutie—until you drop that voice on him. you’d be whispering in his ear, telling him how good he’s doing, how much you love his cock, and suddenly, he’s not so collected anymore, his breath hitching as he tries to keep up with you. his voice would crack a little if he says something, betraying how much your tone is destroying him. he’s the type to need that reassurance, and the way you give it, in that deep, commanding voice, it’s everything he didn’t know he needed.

junhui’s reaction would be straight-up surprise. he wouldn’t expect the shift in tone at first, his eyes would widen, his whole body reacting before his mind even catches up. “wow, okay, you’re serious,” he’d mutter, and you’d hear his breath hitch as he tries to keep up with the energy you’re putting out. jun would be so into it, though—he’s the type to fully give in once he realizes how much he likes it. he’d end up nodding, letting you lead, his mind already spinning with the way you’re controlling the mood.

hoshi would be completely caught off guard. like, one minute he’s all fired up and ready to take charge, and the next, you drop that deep, sultry tone, and he’s: “oh, shit—wait, wait, what?” he’d stutter, his mind racing to catch up. it flips the switch in his brain. he’d get this wide-eyed look, cock raising up in his trousers so fast that is almost comic, yeah, he’s putty in your hands.

wonwoois a person with a hot voice too, and he knows how much it can affect ppl. he would try to rationalize his way out of it at first, but deep down, he’s so into it. “you think you can handle me like that?” he’d say. but then you whisper something dirty in his ear and suddenly, he’s blushing, he’s more focused on the way your voice is making him feel than anything else. wonwoo loves when you’re in control—it’s just that he doesn’t realize how much until you use that tone on him.

woozi would try to pretend like he’s unaffected, but you know better. that’s exactly why he fins u sexy, because you always know, and you would tease him about it getting to him so much. the minute you start talking like that, his hands would tighten around your waist, and you’d feel his breath hitch. “you—you're really gonna do this now?” he’d ask, his voice weak, trying to stay cool, but you’d see the way his eyes widen just slightly. he’s so into it, but he won’t admit it. instead, he’d let his body do the talking.

minghao would love it, but he wouldn’t let on right away. calling him “my baby/my man” or praising him in that low voice, he’d just raise an eyebrow at first, trying to act unbothered. but underneath that he’s shaking. minghao loves the power shift—he loves it when you take control, and when you use that voice, it makes him shiver from feet to the last strand of hair. you’d see the way his lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile, but deep down he’s thriving on every word you say.

mingyu’s so reactive to everything, and the moment you drop that mommy voice on him, his eyes would go wide, his whole body freezing for a second. “wait—oh my god, what?” he’d stammer, not sure if he should be embarrassed or completely turned on. but the more you praise him, telling him how good he’s doing, how much you love how he feels inside you, the more he’d melt. mingyu loves validation—and when you give it to him with that deep, bossy tone? he’s harder than ever. he’d start moaning louder, getting even more into it, begging for more without even realizing it.

seokmin’s reaction would be pure shock. like, he’d be so used to being the one who’s playful, who’s teasing and making you laugh, so when you suddenly drop that sexy, authoritative voice on him, he’d freeze. “oh, wow, okay, this is happening,” he’d mutter, his voice cracking a little as he tries to adjust. but once he gets over the initial surprise, he’s all in. seokmin’s secretly a bit of a praise kink guy, so when you start telling him how good he’s making you feel, calling him your “good boy” in that naughty tone? his head would spin. he’d be a moaning mess by the end of it, loving every second.

seungkwan would be so embarrassed, but also so into it. like, he’s the type to get flustered easily, and the minute you start talking to him in that voice, he’d turn bright red, stuttering out something like, “oh—what—uh, okay, this is new.” but as much as he’s trying to hide how much it’s affecting him, you’d see the way his body reacts. his hips would start moving faster, his breath coming in quicker as he realizes how much he loves hearing you talk to him like that. “you—you really think i’m doing that good?”

vernon’s eyes would widen, and he’d just stare at you for a second, trying to process what’s happening. you’d see the way his lips part slightly, his breath hitching. “oh, shit,” he’d mumble, his voice all shaky as he tries to keep up. vernon loves when you surprise him, and that voice would throw him completely off balance. he’d start thrusting harder, chasing that feeling, trying to get you to say more, completely hooked on the way you’re talking to him.

chan would be a mess, eyes going wide as he looks at you, and you’d see the way his body tenses. “fuck— you want me to— wait, what?” he’d stutter, not even sure how to process it. the second you start praising him in that sultry, he’d FOLD, hips jerking up involuntarily, his moans getting louder. you’d see him practically begging to use more of your voice eon him, craving every word that falls from your lips.

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ohbueckers · 26 days ago

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HALFTIME. i know that your body’s been in drought, so, girl, i’m gon’ make you feel it.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, based off this request. thank you, anon, they all said in unison! i swear jealousy is what i write the best i’m always finding a way to it lmaaao. enjoy as always. warnings, sexual content.

the arena lights are blinding, but they don’t stop paige from seeing everything—and everyone—in the stands. she scans the seats between plays, like she’s been doing all game, just to catch a glimpse of you. you’re sitting on your own, decked out in her uconn gear. you flew in from usc, your own university, just for her, crossing the country to see her play, and it’s been keeping her amped up since tip-off after not having seen you since the season started.

she’d been locked in, sure, but ever since she spotted you, every second on the court has doubled as an opportunity to check in. you’d mentioned you’d be sitting alone since you didn’t know anyone besides her teammates, and she’s been quietly reassuring herself that you’d be okay. it was enough, though—the knowledge that you were here, watching her, even if it was from a distance.

now, though? now, paige can’t believe what she’s seeing.

some guy just sat next to you, leaning in with too much confidence, smiling too wide. paige can’t see the details, but she notices the way his posture says too close, the way you tilt your head slightly, almost like you’re humoring him. it doesn’t matter that you’re probably being nice, that you probably had an empty seat next to you. that’s her spot next to you, her right to your focus.

she catches herself clenching her jaw, and her hands tighten around the ball as she sets up the next play. shes almost telling herself to let it go, that she only feels like this because she’s missed you so bad, and didn’t even have a chance to see you before having to get on the court. but that was until she saw it. his hand.

she runs a hand down her ponytail, fingers grazing over the two tight braids framing her face, her eyes fixed intently on you and that guy beside you. she’s so caught up in watching that she doesn’t even notice kk nudging ice on the bench, motioning over to her in a way to say, yo, look at p.

it would’ve been fine, really. he laughed, hand dropping casually to your knee, and he even had the audacity to let it linger there, letting it inch a little higher. and that was it—her last bit of patience snapped. she knows you’re hers, but something in her always had to prove a point.

to herself more than anyone.

the whistle blares, and paige plays through the last seconds of the second quarter with a little extra force, a silent countdown ticking away in her mind until the buzzer sounds. as soon as it does, she’s off, nearly throwing the ball just to get it out of her hands.

as she heads off the court, a hand swipes the towel from a teammate, and she slings it around her neck, swiping it across her forehead with parted lips, huffing out breaths of tiredness and pure annoyance. the sweat from the game has her feeling wired, and her heartbeat’s already kicking faster than usual. she flicks her tongue over her lips, jaw working tight. the taste of salt clings to her skin, and her ponytail bounces against her shoulders as she walks, each step more clipped than the last.

rounding the corner into the tunnel, she catches sight of you waiting where you always do, leaning against the wall, your familiar face softening the second you spot her. you’d even left the stands a little earlier just to catch her, but she walks right past, barely a glance in your direction, her silence as heavy as the weight of her irritation. taken aback, you push off the wall, calling after her quietly, but she doesn’t look back, her focus set on where she’s headed. she had to have seen you, right? heard you?

she leads you to a more secluded area, and you can only hear her footsteps filling the empty hallway as you try to keep up, smaller legs not doing you much justice. she strides into the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the showers, casting shadows over the benches, lockers, and tiled floors. paige doesn’t say a word as you step in after her, your eyes wide in disbelief that she’d just fucking ignored you the whole way here.

then, she’s kicking the stopper holding the door open out. it shuts with a click, and without warning, she throws her towel onto a nearby bench before she’s pressing you back against the cool wall. her mouth is on yours, relentless and unapologetic, her tongue sweeping across your lips before slipping inside. she’s tonguing you down.

one hand is at the back of your neck, fingers spread, holding you firmly in place as she deepens the kiss, pouring every ounce of jealousy and need into it. her other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against her.

“paige—“

“you got a whole lotta nerve, you know that?” she mutters, voice all rough as her lips find your jawline. you’re a little dazed, eyebrows furrowed as you submit to your girlfriend. until it clicks—curly-head in the stands. his hand on your knee, that laugh.

paige is jealous. and you’re definitely gonna milk it.

you wrap your arms around her shoulders, drawing her closer as she peppers kisses down your neck, a possessive bite here and there, making you tilt your head to the side. “you’re bein’ s’mean, p,” you murmur, teasing her in a way you’re sure she’ll fall weak to, fingers stroking that spot just below her ear. “i was just being polite.”

paige hesitates for a moment, her lips hovering over your skin, eyes narrowing. for a second, you think maybe she’s softening, that your words have gotten through. but just as quickly, her jaw tightens, and her eyes lower. without a word, her other hand drops to your waist, fingers gripping hard, and she pushes you down onto the bench behind you so effortlessly it has a pool forming between your legs.

she strolls around, flipping you over. “yeah? didn’t look like it from where i was standin.’” her eyes are fixed on you, and before you can answer, she’s hooking her fingers into your waistband, yanking down your pants in one swift motion. there’s a look in her eyes that tells you she’s not interested in taking her time with only fifteen minutes, and especially not after what she’s seen. she’s set on making a point.

her hands are on you too, one gripping your ass and the other digging into your thigh. you glance back at her, then to the door. her teammates have to be close—maybe a couple doors away. you can hear sneakers and loud chatter, and you wonder if they’re looking for their star player.

for paige, this is the last thing on her mind.

your neck doesn’t let you look for too long, and you’re forced to catch a glimpse of paige’s lick of her lips as you return your head to hang low. “fuckin’ polite,” she mumbles, shaking her head tauntingly as she mocks you.

her hands glide possessively over you, and you can tell just by the way they move how much she’s missed you. missed this. without warning, her fingers slip between your thighs, teasing your folds for just a moment before she slides one inside, the suddenness of it causing a gasp to catch in your throat.

her jersey clings to her, drenched from the game, arm sleeves pushed up just enough to expose the toned muscle of her forearms. her arms flex with each shift, biceps straining under the fabric as her other hand steadies you, holding you firmly in place, and she sure is strong enough to keep you from squirming away.

you’re whimpering, trying to contain your moans as you curl your lips in. paige is leaning in now, lips hovering near your ear as her ponytail brushes against your cheek. “think it’s funny?” she asks, and you shake your head as paige’s eyebrows furrow. “no? y’thought he was though. didn’t you?”

caught off guard, you hesitate, and that’s all it takes for paige to ram another finger in. you aren’t sure if you’ve just just been deprived, but one felt like enough. “pai—ah—fuck!”

she only smirks, settling back a bit as she watches the way her fingers sink in and out of you. “got me out here distracted,” she mutters, her tone dipping lower. you missed hearing her the most, the way the sound of her fucking accent could get you wet. “losin’ my focus over you, watchin’ you with him like you forgot who fucks you like this.”

unable to move out of her grasp, you can only squirm until you’re flush against her, ass pressed to her navy blue shorts. you’re barely able to hold yourself up, the pleasure spreading throughout your entire body.

paige takes the opportunity, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you up so your back can meet her chest. her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth, her slender fingers pummeling into your cunt, and before you know it, she adds another. a third.

“pai—ge. shit. you’re stretching me out,” you breathe out pathetically, bringing your own hand down to your clit, trying to relieve some of the heat she’s added, but it’s no use.

“i know, baby,” she soothes through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the grip your walls have on her herself. she’s looking down at you, all hunger. “y’ain’t had it in so long. gotta make sure you feel it.” and you do.

you settle against her with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from her rhythm. paige knows exactly what she’s doing, every part of your body telling her you’re right on the edge. with each moan spilling from your lips, you grind harder, and she picks up her pace. “gonna come, ma? let me know.”

you nod feverishly, your voice almost breaking as you pant. “yeah, so close, p…”

she lets you go, and you catch yourself before falling all the way, whimpering. she pulls out slowly, too slow, until the tips of her fingers remained, curling in just a bit. it isn’t enough to get you there, and before you can beg, paige says, “tell me that you’re mine right now and mayb—“

you can’t wait another second. “i’m yours, baby.”

her smirk deepens, and she tilts her head, clearly savoring the sound of your voice as you confess. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” her fingers curl a bit more, giving you just a hint of the release you’re chasing, her touch infuriatingly perfect but just shy of enough.

with that, she resumes, fingers slipping deeper, her other hand gripping your hip as she holds you. the tension snaps, and you shudder against her, everything fading out as she keeps up, drawing out every last pulse until your legs are weak and your breathing’s even more uneven than before.

as you catch your breath, letting every part you can fall, paige, still holding her grip, pulls your pants up with a glance at the door. as you lean back into her touch again, she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, almost tender now. “better remember that,” she whispers, barely audible.

craziest part? you don’t even like guys.

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luffington · 3 months ago

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hello i love ur works!! i hope ur doing well! :D for law can i request a law with a f!reader who doesn’t like him at all at first but has an uncharacteristic absolute soft spot for cute things (ie bepo) and he uses that to get closer to her? thank u!! ☺️

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.1k

➤ warnings: alcohol use

this is such a cute concept thank you for suggesting it!! i'm exactly like this and i wanna hug bepo so badly ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

i'm still not confident in the way i write law so i hope you like this!

Law's heart skips a beat the moment he meets you. That’s very unfortunate for him.

His social skills are adequate at best, since his awkwardness unintentionally comes off as rudeness, but they get infinitely worse around people he’s attracted to.

Plus, you're a Straw Hat, so you're already seeing him out of his element. Luffy's (unintentional) insistence on ruining all of his carefully planned schemes leaves him perpetually frustrated, uncomfortable, and grumpy.

You frown when his voice comes out harsher than he meant it to. Roll your eyes when he gets upset at your crewmates again for doing what they always do. Mumble something snarky under your breath when the man frantically tries to get his plan back on track, somehow still not realizing that everything works out for Luffy.

Oh, you must hate him. Law knows it. He tries to give you space to avoid making the situation worse, but that only upsets you more.

But Bepo? You’re obsessed.

Constantly clinging onto him, rubbing your cheeks against his fur, giggling about how soft and round he is until the poor bear's snowy white face is tinted bright red.

His first mate nervously cries out "Captain!!", clearly flustered but secretly enjoying your praise. You pout, wondering why the cutest Mink you'd ever met is sticking around with an asshole like Law.

It’s not just Bepo – you love everything cute. Chopper always ends up in your lap, happily wrapped in your embrace. You feed stray cats, stop to pet every dog you see, and gush over the Tontattas in Dressrosa (especially Princess Mansherry!). Somehow, you cry more than Franky does at heartwarming stories.

Law doesn’t understand how someone as adorable and kind-hearted as you could become a pirate. He admires your emotional vulnerability and childlike whimsy as much as he’s terrified of it.

The poor guy can't win. He can barely talk to you like a normal person, much less have a full conversation with you. It leaves him lying awake in bed at night trying to think of something to say that doesn't make him sound like a dick.

(Maybe he should read that book Chopper gave him – 'healthy ways to process trauma’ or something stupid like that.)

His crewmates know about his predicament, so Shachi suggests expressing his feelings in a way that doesn’t involve words.

Law fights off embarrassment and walks into a toy store, looking incredibly out of place. He ends up picking out a black-and-white puppy plushie. (it’s Snoopy hehe)

Anxiety nearly overwhelms him while he waits for the perfect moment to give it to you. When it finally feels appropriate to pull you away from your crewmates, he leads you into an empty room on the Sunny.

Law can barely look you in the eyes as he hands you the stuffed animal and mumbles, “I got this for you.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “Oh, Law…” The long stretch of silence causes him to panic internally, suddenly regretting everything and thinking of ways to explain himself.

Before he can come up with a flimsy excuse, you gladly accept his gift and hug it tightly. “It’s adorable, thank you! It even matches your hat!”

A blush spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. He wasn’t thinking about that, he swears! It’s the same color as Bepo! Yes, he loves black and white, and maybe he subconsciously wanted it to remind you of him, but he didn’t do it on purpose!

At breakfast the next morning, Shachi asks if you like your gift. Deciding not to question why he knows about it, you nod enthusiastically and say it’s so cute that you spent the entire night cuddling it. Law sputters and spills hot coffee on himself.

But now you feel bad. Everything about Law’s behavior made you think he disliked you, but he clearly cares enough to notice your interests. You don't know anything about him.

The next time your combined crews split up, you make it a point to join him and spend alone time together. He’s obviously overjoyed, and he’s already thinking about more gifts to buy you.

Once you get past his awkward exterior, you realize he's actually pretty cute. He has his own nerdy interests, and he genuinely cares about Bepo and the rest of his crew.

He’ll show you his if you show him yours… Obviously that means his limited edition Germa 66 comics box set and your collection of cute trinkets, with the puppy plushie he bought you sitting proudly on your pillow.

When he sees a cute animal or something he knows you’d like, if you’re within Room range, he Shambles you over to him so you won’t miss it.

“Law, what the hell? Why am I three blocks away from where I just was?” With a straight face, he points and says, “Cat.”

Bepo’s also a great wingman. He helps you see his captain’s soft side by telling stories about their adventures together – even embarrassing ones Law wishes he left unsaid. You eagerly listen to everything the Mink has to say and become even more comfortable around Law.

Law realizes you can be soft and strong at the same time. No one doubts Sanji’s strength even though he caves whenever he sees a woman – why shouldn’t that apply to you and your interests?

At one of your crew's famous banquets, you get super drunk and won’t stop clinging to him. Law is completely sober and tries to push you off of him, attempting to prevent you from doing anything you'd regret the next morning.

But then you tell him you think he's adorable and giggle cutely.

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. "...You think so?" (He'd rather be seen as manly, but he's more than happy with any perception as long as you like him.)

You nod and move to kiss him, and as much as he’s dying to reciprocate, he holds you back. Instead, he half-carries you over to where a group of both of your crews are mingling. You're asleep in Bepo's lap in less than a minute.

Hungover and sleepy the next morning, you timidly apologize for your behavior. Law shakes his head and assures you that it's fine.

"I still wanna kiss you, though," you murmur quietly.

So his lips press against yours in a slow and gentle kiss, eventually escalating until your fingers are tangled in his hair and you’re straddling his lap, one tattooed hand gripping your hip and the other holding you tight against him.

Bepo and Shachi’s eyes widen when they see their captain’s flushed state a while later, hair messy and hickies on his neck. In typical Law fashion, he just thanks them with no further explanation.

#law x reader #law imagine #law imagines #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law imagines #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law #one piece x reader #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #mine #my fics #request #anon #law fluff #trafalgar law fluff

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mattsnight · 16 days ago

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Hide it - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: in which Matt hides his feelings for you, but eventually can’t take it anymore.

Warnings: fluff, cursing,

A/N:

Matt couldn’t hide it any longer. He couldn’t hide his love for you. His feelings were hard to control when you were around. It was sickening. He didn’t say anything about it, because he didn’t want to hurt you or ruin the friendship you guys have. It was too important for, but he also couldn’t stuff his feelings away any longer. He was in love with you and that was a problem.

Every time you hang out with Nick Matt’s in the room. He’s always staring at you, but when you turn to look at him he quickly turns away. You didn’t think much of it, until things changed. Matt started acting weird. He was always stuttering around you and didn’t have proper conversations with you.

You had come to the triplets’ house to make some pictures with Nick. The house was mostly quiet, only soft sounds were heard from Matt’s room. He was most likely playing fortnight. You sat down on the couch, waiting for Nick to return from his room.

“Oh hey y/n..” you suddenly hear a voice say. You look at the figure, it’s Matt. A small smile forms on your face as you wave at him. He freezes at your smile, regretting his decision of coming out of his room. He was already getting nervous at the fact of his crush being infront of him. Suddenly a wave of confidence washes over him. It was now or never. “Y/N i can’t do this anymore.” He says, swallowing.

“Can’t do what?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“I-“ he runs his hand through his hair. There’s a moment of silence. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t just say ‘hey im in love with you! Can we make out?’ can he? Another deep breath leaves his mouth as he tries to get himself together. “Fucking hell..” He holds his breath as he looks into your eyes to see any kind of reaction. “Can’t you see how obsessed i am with you?” A surprised sound leaves your mouth. You don’t say anything for a while, surprised by his confession.

“Jesus Y/N, say something please.” He begs. His nervousness gets worse within seconds. Did you hate him now? “I- you like me?” You ask. Realization hits you hard. He actually likes you. Your mind goes blank at the thought, all your thoughts vanishing. He slides both his hands into his pockets, hiding how badly he’s sweating.

“Yes Y/N and im tired of you not noticing! I tried everything to make you look at me, yet it’s not working.” He groans mentally, blaming himself for raising his voice at you. “Sorry… i-“ he starts, but gets cut off when you slam your lips against his. This kiss was everything he needed. Everything he needed to know you had the same feeling about him and it was amazing. It wasn’t passionate, just full of love and desperation.

Your hands slide into his hair, gently pulling at it to get closer. His hands go down your sides, gripping you tightly. You slowly start backing up into a wall, which he does too. Then he pulls back to get some air. You look up into his blue eyes, smiling. He smiles back almost immediately, wiping your hair out of your face. “That was..” he chuckles, still a hit breathless. “So fuckin’ amazing.”

Suddenly you hear a laugh behind you. You turn around to see Nick standing there. He had watched the whole scene and was laughing by it. Matt rolls his eyes, before looking away. “Took you long enough, kid. Will you stop bothering me now you’ve kissed the girl?” Nick smiles, before looking at you. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you. Seriously. It was so tiring.”

A small smile forms on your face. You look at Matt who’s now filled up with embarrassment. “I’ll leave you guys alone. Let’s do the pictures another time, alright?” Nick suggests. You nod, knowing you need time to let this sink in and spend some time with Matt.

This was gonna be great.

no nut november fic 3! I hope yall like this💞 (also i wont be posting as much since i need to learn for assignments and stuff</3)

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #no nut november #nnn

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chosok-amo · 19 days ago

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WOMAN, YOU ARE NOT A GODDAMN SNOW WHITE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

thunderstorm, and you are nowhere to be found. your boyfriends is worried sick, wondering your whereabouts, until you come home a fat raccoon.

warning. established relationship au, fluff, crack.

> m.list

the sound of the storm outside was deafening, rain pelting down against the windows in sheets, lightning flickering through the darkened living room. the atmosphere inside felt as tense as the weather outside. gojo was pacing relentlessly, his usually bright and relaxed demeanor clouded over with worry. every now and then, he would glance at his phone, checking for messages or missed calls. but there was nothing—no response, no sign of where you were.

geto sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands, frustration and anxiety etched across his usually calm face. he let out a heavy sigh, his fingers rubbing his temples as if trying to ease the headache that had been brewing since they’d realized you weren’t home. “she should’ve been back ages ago,” he muttered, his voice barely audible above the relentless rain. “she always lets us know where she is… this isn’t like her.”

“i know,” gojo replied, his voice unusually tense. he stopped pacing for a moment, gripping the back of the couch so hard his knuckles turned white. “she promised she’d be home before the rain started. she said she was on her way,” his tone cracked slightly, the worry seeping through.

another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed closely by a rumble of thunder that shook the windows. gojo flinched, the uncharacteristic gesture revealing just how frayed his nerves were. “if only we’d left work sooner. we could’ve went home with her,” he muttered, more to himself than to geto.

the storm outside continued to pound against the windows, the relentless rain and booming thunder doing nothing to ease the growing tension in the room. gojo watched as geto tried calling you once again, his phone pressed tightly to his ear, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing second of silence.

when the call went straight to voicemail again, geto’s frustration hit a breaking point. “where the fuck are you?” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a sharp edge of worry and anger. his hand clenched around his phone before he threw it onto the couch with a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

gojo halted his pacing and looked at geto, his own worry mirrored in his friend's expression. “it’s not like her to just go silent,” he said, a nervous energy in his voice that was so out of character for him. his usual confident, carefree attitude was completely gone, replaced by an anxiety that he couldn’t shake. “she always lets us know when she’s going somewhere or if she’s late.”

geto nodded, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure. “i know. and the fact that it’s her out there in this storm, alone…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought. his hands fisted at his sides, the helplessness gnawing at him.

“satoru, do you think…” geto trailed off, the worst-case scenarios that had been racing through his mind too painful to put into words.

“don’t even go there, suguru,” gojo interrupted, his voice fierce, though his eyes betrayed the same fears. “she’s strong. she’s probably just waiting for the storm to calm down somewhere.”

his words were cut off by another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that shook the house, causing both of them to stiffen momentarily. it was as if the storm outside was mirroring the turmoil inside, an added layer of anxiety in the already tense atmosphere.

geto took a deep, calming breath, trying to keep hold of his emotions. he straightened up and looked at gojo, determination in his eyes. “you’re right. she’s strong. she can handle herself. we can’t just sit here and worry ourselves sick.”

another loud crash of thunder shook the house, causing geto to flinch. he hated feeling this helpless, hated the tight knot of fear twisting in dis chest. he glanced at gojo, who was biting his thumb, lost in his thoughts. despite their differences, they were both on the same page now—both terrified of the possibility of losing you.

just then, they heard a faint noise—a car door slamming shut. both of them sprang to their feet, their hearts pounding in unison as they rushed to the window. through the heavy rain, they could make out your figure, drenched but alive, struggling to carry what looked like a a big box. relief washed over them, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of irritation and concern.

geto and gojo exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring each other. “what the hell is she carrying?” geto muttered, his annoyance evident as he made his way toward the door.

gojo followed close behind. “and why the hell did she come home in this weather?”

they both stepped outside, the cold rain lashing at their faces, as they hurried towards your figure. their eyes narrowed, taking in the sight of you struggling with the heavy box in your arms.

geto reached you first, the rain soaking through his clothes as he approached. “are you insane?” his voice was sharp, laced with a mixture of relief and anger. “what the hell were you thinking coming home in this storm—and what is that?"”

gojo joined him, looking equally worried and frustrated. gojo caught up, his arms crossed as he took in the scene. “and what’s in the box? you better have a damn good explanation for all of this.” they grip your shoulder, pulling you into the house.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of both geto and gojo’s faces as they stood dripping wet, eyes wide in shock and mouths slightly agape. you adjusted the heavy box in your arms, a fucking fat raccoon inside peeking out with curious eyes. “look what i found!” you exclaimed excitedly, completely oblivious to the scratches on your face and the mud staining your clothes. “it was just wandering, isn’t it cute?”

the rain continued its relentless assault, soaking through geto and gojo's clothes and causing their hair to stick to their faces as they looked at you in disbelief. their initial relief was quickly replaced by a mixture of annoyance and worry, their brows furrowed as they took in your soaked appearance and the scratches on your face.

geto’s expression darkened, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at your face. “cute?” he sputtered incredulously. “you went out in this storm for a raccoon? you’re bleeding and muddy as hell!”

gojo, less composed, stared at you with a mix of shock and anger. “and didn’t you think to call or text us, genius? we’ve been going out of our minds worried!”

your smile faltered slightly as you looked down at your muddy shoes, realizing just how much trouble you might’ve caused. “i couldn’t just leave it there,” you mumbled, glancing up at them through your wet lashes. “it was all alone, and I thought… i thought i could bring it here until it’s safe to release it.”

geto ran a hand through his wet hair, exasperated. “did you even think about the possible danger? bringing a wild animal into our home—”

“not just any animal,” gojo interrupted, “a damn raccoon. it could have diseases, or rabies. jesus, you’re smarter than this—”

geto shot him a look, but gojo ignored it, his eyes fixated on you.

“and look at you,” gojo continued, his voice stern. “do you know how worried we were? how much trouble you could have gotten in? or, even worse, how dangerous it could have been?”

geto nodded in agreement, his arms crossed over his chest. “you’re not a little girl anymore, baby,” he added quietly. “you have to start thinking things through.”

you glanced back and forth between your two concerned boyfriends, feeling like a child caught doing something they knew was wrong. their genuine worry and concern were evident, but so was their frustration. the raccoon in the box seemed to sense the tension, letting out a small squeak as it shifted uncomfortably.

you took a step backward, clutching the box tightly, feeling the weight of the heavy creature inside. “i know it was reckless,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “i just... i didn’t think. i saw it and...” you trailed off, your gaze lowering.

geto let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders softening just a bit. gojo scrubbed a hand over his face, his anger slowly giving way to worry and relief.

geto crossed his arms again, a small frown still on his lips. “well, you thought wrong,” he said firmly. “there’s a reason we keep telling you not to do things like this.” a moment of silence passed before gojo cleared his throat. “where the hell did you find it, anyway?” he asked.

you looked up at them through your lashes, swallowing nervously as their combined stares bore into you. you knew they’d be upset—more than upset. biting your lip, you hesitated, the weight of their worry settling heavily on your shoulders.

in your arms, the raccoon blinked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, seemingly oblivious to the tension filling the room. you glanced down at the little creature, which gave a tiny squeak, as if in solidarity, and you almost felt braver because of it.

“where did you find it?” gojo repeated, his tone softer but his eyes still sharp.

you mumbled, “... at school,” barely loud enough for them to hear.

“at school?” geto repeated, his arms crossing even tighter as he took a step closer. his voice was calm, but you could sense the frustration simmering beneath it. “we told you to come home right after class. and instead, you went off chasing… a raccoon?”

“it was stranded and soaking wet in the woods,” you explained, clutching the raccoon a little tighter, trying to make your point. “it didn’t have anyone else.”

gojo stared down at you, his eyes flashing. “so you were out there by yourself, in the storm, all because of a wild animal that could have had a million diseases? or attacked you?” his fists tightened as he spoke, his concern evident in his tone.

geto’s jaw tightened, his frown deepening as he listened to your explanation. gojo’s expression was a mix of concern and anger, his eyes never leaving your face.

“and you decided that it was your responsibility to play hero and bring it home? do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” geto asked, his voice quiet but laced with concern.

geto watched you with a mix of worry and resignation. he understood your soft heart, your need to help and care for others, but the recklessness of your actions was weighing on him. “we’ve always told you not to just run off without telling us,” he said finally, his hands on his hips.

you felt yourself shrink under their intense stares, their frustration washing over you in waves. still, you couldn’t let go of the raccoon in your arms, the tiny creature nestled against you as if it understood your need for comfort.

“i… i couldn’t just leave it out there,” you mumbled, voice growing quieter with each word as their gazes bore into you. “what if it got hurt?”

you looked down at the raccoon, still struggling to hold the box with its fat body, your fingers gently stroking its damp fur, remembering how helpless it looked huddled outside in the storm. “it was like… like it was asking me to take it home,” you added in a small voice, hoping they’d understand.

gojo let out a frustrated huff, crossing his arms tightly. “woman, you’re not a goddamn snow white,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “you can’t just waltz around talking to animals, thinking they’ll magically be safe with you.” his words stung a little, but you knew his anger was coming from a place of deep concern.

you felt the sting of their words as you stood there, drenched and feeling smaller by the second. your excitement quickly dwindled, replaced by the heavy weight of guilt. you couldn’t bring yourself to meet their eyes, instead focusing on the raccoon in the box. it looked up at you with its big, confused eyes, almost like it was wondering why everyone was so upset.

gojo noticed your silence and the way your shoulders slumped forward, and a flicker of remorse crossed his face. geto, too, softened slightly at the sight of you looking so small and vulnerable.

but the worry and anger in their hearts only grew.

“how could you be so careless?” geto finally spoke up, his tone still frustrated, but quieter than before. “we’ve trusted you to make responsible decisions, and you go and do something like this...”

gojo sighed, running a hand through his wet hair again. “you need to understand the gravity of your actions,” he said, his voice firm. “not just for your safety, but for ours too. we care about you, goddamn it. we worry about you—”

geto chimed in, cutting gojo off mid-sentence. “you scared us,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “we thought something had happened to you. and then we found you, soaked and bleeding, with a damn raccoon in your arms.”

the room grew heavy with silence for a few moments as your boyfriends took a moment to collect themselves. the raccoon let out another squeak from the box, almost as if it sensed the tension in the room, and you reached a hand down to pet it gently. it nuzzled closer to your fingers, seeking comfort in its own way.

the weight of gojo’s words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that had settled between you all. as you reached down to soothe the frightened raccoon, gojo’s hand shot out, gently but firmly smacking yours away. “don’t pet it,” he said, his voice harsher than he likely intended, a frown deepening on his face. “it could be carrying diseases, rabies—who knows what. why are you acting so careless?”

his words stung, each one landing with a sting that made you shrink back a little. “you’re a grown woman,” he added, his tone hard. “you should act like it.” the reprimand, though unintentional, echoed in the room, making you feel smaller under his stern gaze. you could see the frustration in his eyes, the fear that had fueled his reaction, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

geto noticed the look on your face and gently placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, urging him to take a deep breath. “satoru,” he said quietly, his tone calm but firm, and gojo’s expression softened, a flicker of regret crossing his face.

gojo looked at geto, then back at you, the frustration in his face slowly melting away. he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. “i’m sorry, baby,” he said, his voice less sharp now. “i didn’t mean to snap. i was just… scared. worried sick.”

their voices were starting to blur together, and you could feel a flicker of annoyance growing inside you. you knew they were worried, but the way they were going on and on, like you were some reckless child, started to rub you the wrong way.

without another word, you turned on your heel, your grip tightening on the box. you didn’t bother looking up, your eyes fixed stubbornly on the raccoon who seemed to be your only ally in that moment. you could feel both of their eyes on you as you brushed past them, your shoulder knocking against one of them—honestly, you didn’t even care which one.

they fell silent, stunned as you stormed off towards the bathroom near the living room. you slammed the door behind you, the loud bang echoing through the house. for a moment, you just stood there, your heart racing as you leaned against the door, staring down at the raccoon who was now peeking up at you from the box, almost like it was asking if you were okay.

“great,” you mumbled to the little creature, your voice shaky with frustration. “now we’re both in trouble.”

you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you heard the faint murmur of geto and gojo’s voices from the other side of the door, still clearly upset. you knew they meant well, but right now, you just needed a moment to yourself, away from their scolding and the overwhelming mix of guilt and annoyance swirling inside you.

you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, the scratches and dirt on your face standing out starkly under the harsh light. “looks like we’re both a mess, huh?” you said softly to the raccoon, who just blinked at you with those big, innocent eyes, as if it didn’t have a care in the world. you let out a bitter laugh, feeling a tiny bit of your frustration melt away, though the sting of their words still lingered.

the bathroom was cold and bright, and you shivered a little as the wet fabric of your clothes clung to your skin. the raccoon, seemingly more interested in exploration than the tension, poked its head over the edge of the box, its wet fur matted down and its dark, beady eyes looking up at you.

gojo and geto’s voices could be heard from the living room, their murmurs audible through the door. you could make out bits and pieces of the conversation, the words “careless” and “thoughtless” reaching your ears.

gojo and geto stood in the hallway, the sound of the bathroom door slamming echoed through the silent house. they exchanged looks, both equally frustrated. gojo ran a hand through his hair again, sighing loudly.

“great,” he muttered, his tone sarcastic. “she’s mad at us now.”

geto scowled, leaning against the wall. “can you blame her?” he snapped. “we just went on and on about her actions. she probably feels like a damn kid getting scolded.”

gojo shot him a glare. “she acted like a damn kid. what was she even thinking, going out in the storm for a raccoon?”

geto’s jaw clenched. “but she brought the damn thing back here. it’s not like she was careless with its life. just ours.” gojo cursed under his breath, looking in the direction of the bathroom where you were. the sound of your voice, talking to the raccoon, was clear even through the closed door.

gojo crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he tried to ignore the twinge of guilt building in his chest. he looked up at geto, who was still looking in the direction of the bathroom, a frown on to his face.

gojo sighed, his expression softening slightly. “i know, i just...” he ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit he couldn’t quite shake. “i can’t help but worry about her. it’s like, the second she’s out of my sight, i start imagining all the ways something could go wrong.”

gojo and geto stood there, tension thick between them as they listened to the faint sound of water running from the bathroom. through the door, they could hear your muffled voice, and it didn’t take long to realize you were talking to the raccoon.

“you know, those two idiots think they know everything,” your voice drifted out, laced with annoyance and frustration. “like, seriously? they don’t get it. it’s just a little rain, and they’re acting like i brought a lion home or something.”

gojo let out a dry scoff, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “she’s really in there talking shit about us to a raccoon,” he said, rolling his eyes. “unbelievable.”

geto couldn’t help but smirk a little, despite the lingering irritation. “yeah, well, at least she’s not yelling at us directly,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “guess the raccoon’s a better listener than we are.”

gojo huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah, maybe we should start taking advice from the damn raccoon. at least it can’t talk back.”

geto laughed at that, shaking his head. “you have a point there. might be easier to deal with than a stubborn girl, huh?”

gojo looked at geto, a small smile playing at his lips despite his mood. “yeah, well, that stubborn girl is one of ours. and, as annoying as she can be...” his expression softened, his voice trailing off.

as gojo and geto leaned against the wall, their frustration slowly ebbing away. the tension in the air had noticeably lightened, the sound of your voice still drifting out from the bathroom, now with a different tone, softer and more soothing.

gojo’s shoulders relaxed, his scowl softening slightly into a half-smile as he glanced back towards the bathroom. “you know,” he said, looking over at geto, “she always tries to see the best in everything, even if she’s being an idiot about it sometimes.”

sitting on the cold of the bathtub, you hugged your knees close, letting out a sigh that rippled through the quiet bathroom. the soft warmth of the water surrounding you barely eased the sting of gojo’s words or geto’s exasperated looks, and you couldn’t help but vent a little. glancing down, you saw the raccoon sitting by the pool of warm water, eyeing you with a strange, almost sympathetic curiosity.

“can you believe them?” you muttered, resting your chin on your knees as you looked at the little creature. “they’re acting like i’m some kind of helpless kid. like i don’t know what i’m doing.” the raccoon cocked its head as if considering your words, and you couldn’t help but smile at its curious, wide-eyed gaze.

“i mean, yeah, i got caught in the rain,” you continued, your voice softer, almost pouting. “but it’s not like i was trying to make them worry. i just couldn’t leave you out there.” the raccoon gave a soft chitter, and you reached down to stroke its damp fur gently, finding a bit of comfort in its small warmth.

“they act like i’m clueless,” you went on, feeling the need to get it all out, even if your only audience was a stray animal. “i get it—they were scared, i know. but i’m not some dumb kid. i know what i was doing.”

another huff escaped you, your cheeks warming slightly as you remembered gojo’s frustrated sigh, his tone that was harsher than usual. it had hit deep, despite knowing he hadn’t really meant to be that way. maybe it was their worry, tangled up in anger, but it was hard to shake off.

you let out a long sigh and leaned back, mumbling under your breath to the raccoon. “maybe it’s their problem if they’re gonna worry so much over every little thing. it’s not like i’d do something reckless…” you trailed off, a small, rueful smile pulling at your lips as you glanced at your dripping clothes in a heap beside you.

just as you were about to continue your quiet rant, you heard a soft knock on the door, followed by gojo’s voice, a bit softer than before, “hey, you okay in there? the raccoon giving you better advice than us?”

you rolled your eyes, letting out a low sigh and glancing back down at the raccoon, who seemed perfectly content in its cozy little spot by the warm water. “can you believe these guys?“ you muttered, ignoring gojo’s voice from the other side of the door. “like i really need their advice on what to do. i’ve got this all under control.”

the raccoon looked up at you with those round, trusting eyes, as if it were your little confidante in this moment. a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. “exactly. they just don’t get it,” you whispered to the animal, reaching out to stroke its damp fur.

gojo leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, as he listened to you talking to the raccoon. A conflicted expression crossed his face as he listened to you, your words a mix of hurt, frustration, and something else he couldn't quite place.

he shifted on his feet, a frown on his face, and knocked again, a little louder this time. “are you going to come out of there? or are you going to keep talking to the raccoon? it might start charging you for therapy at this rate.”

geto let out a snort, his annoyance quickly replaced by laughter. “oh yeah, i wonder how the raccoon is reacting to that little rant.”

gojo bit back a smile. “bet it’s just sitting there nodding, pretending to be a good listener,” he responded, trying to keep his composure. “probably thinking ‘this girl is crazier than them.’”

geto couldn’t help but grin at the mental image of you talking to the raccoon like it was your therapist. “i can already see it,” he joked. “the raccoon’s probably giving her better advice than we ever will.”

you glanced down at the raccoon, who blinked back at you with wide, curious eyes, and muttered under your breath, “can you believe those two? who do they think they are, acting like my dad and trying to scold me?” your voice was soft but laced with annoyance, and you could’ve sworn the raccoon tilted its head, almost as if agreeing.

“if they didn’t get on my nerves so much…” you paused, a sly smirk creeping onto your lips as you muttered, “i’d probably kiss them. especially that albino guy.” you rolled your eyes, thinking of gojo’s pale hair and smug face. he was always half a second away from annoying you into oblivion, but somehow, that just made him all the more irresistible.

the raccoon, as if it understood your dilemma, gave a tiny squeak and nuzzled closer. “exactly,” you whispered to it. “they’re the ones who keep acting like they run my life, and then wonder why i get frustrated.”

you could hear faint laughter from the other side of the door, geto and gojo clearly amused at whatever mental image they had of you venting to a raccoon. “they’re having way too much fun out there,” you grumbled, casting a sideways look at the door. but part of you couldn’t shake the warmth in your chest. as much as they annoyed you, their concern was something you couldn’t ignore—even if they were the world’s most overprotective idiots.

gojo stood outside the door, his expression shifting between amusement and slight concern. he knew your frustration was justified, but he also couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. you, venting to a damn raccoon, while they were stuck out here, waiting for you to come out and talk to them.

as he leaned against the door, he glanced back at geto, who was also having a hard time keeping a straight face. gojo’s voice was a low murmur as he spoke, his tone a mix of amusement and understanding. “she’s really not taking this well, is she?”

geto let out a soft chuckle, his purple eyes gleaming with warmth as he looked over at gojo, clearly amused but also filled with affection. “you know how she is,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “everything’s gotta be some grand, dramatic moment. it’s like living with a walking soap opera.” his voice held a gentle fondness that softened his words, showing he loved every bit of your theatrical tendencies.

he leaned on his side against the wall, crossing his arms with a small smile tugging at his lips. “she’s probably in there, giving the raccoon the speech of the century, like it’s her co-star in some tragic, misunderstood romance.”

gojo snorted, though a faint smile played on his lips as well. “wouldn’t put it past her to actually start acting out a scene,” he replied, his tone both teasing and fond. “and of course, we’re the villains in her story.”

geto rolled his eyes, nudging gojo with his elbow. “yeah, but we’re her villains,” he said, his voice softening as he gazed at the bathroom door. “and if she wants us to sit here and play along with her soap opera, then… well, i guess we’re in for the whole show.”

the two of them shared a quiet, knowing look. they might tease you endlessly about your dramatic antics, but they wouldn’t trade any part of you—mood swings, raccoon rescues, or frustrated rants—for the world.

the sound of water sloshing softly in the tub as you shifted in the water broke the momentary silence between you and the raccoon. another sigh escaped your lips, this one even quieter than the last.

you looked down at the raccoon, who seemed to be listening intently, its wide, beady eyes fixed on yours. “maybe they’re right, though,” you mused, your tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “maybe i really am just being reckless, not thinking things through. i can be a lot sometimes.”

the raccoon chittered quietly, almost as if in response. as they stood there, the faint sound of your frustrated groan came from inside the bathroom, followed by the soft splash of water.

“ugh, you’re useless,” they heard you mutter to the raccoon, your voice edged with irritation. “can’t even help me with this mess. just sitting there, looking cute, while i’m stuck with those two idiots.”

gojo’s lip quirked into a wry smile at the sound of your frustrated comment, though it was tinged with affection. “sounds like the raccoon didn’t give the advice she was hoping for,” he said to geto, amusement in his voice.

geto chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “maybe he’s just good at listening without offering solutions,” he replied, his tone light. “she’s probably just projecting because she didn’t get the grand epiphany she was hoping for.”

gojo chuckled, shaking his head as he called through the door. “baby, i’m coming in.” without waiting for a response, he opened the door and stepped inside. his gaze softened when he saw you in the bathtub. the sight made his heart ache just a bit—there you were, knees hugged to your chest, your face half-hidden, looking all small and defiant with the raccoon settled in front of you. despite the warm water around your legs, you shivered lightly, and his frown deepened, especially when he noticed you absentmindedly petting the raccoon’s back.

“hey,” he said, voice soft but firm as he stepped closer. “i told you—don’t pet that thing. who knows what it’s carrying.” he eyed the raccoon with a mixture of curiosity and mild irritation. But the creature simply stared back at him with round, black eyes, like little boba pearls, almost innocently.

gojo’s frown intensified as he took in the raccoon’s round shape. “why is it so… fat?” he muttered, utterly baffled. “isn’t this supposed to be a wild animal? how’s it getting so chubby?”

he glanced at you, suspicious but amused, his arms crossing over his chest. “you sure you didn’t find this thing at someone’s house instead of the wild? it looks like it’s been eating better than me.”

you shot gojo a glare, your lips drawn into a tight line. “i did not steal someone’s pet raccoon,” you retorted, your tone bristling with annoyance. “it’s a wild animal. i found it outside during the storm, cold and wet. it was shivering—it needed help.”

geto appeared in the doorway, peeking over gojo’s shoulder, and when he saw the round little raccoon, he couldn’t help but laugh. “looks like you picked the laziest scavenger out there,” he teased, nudging gojo with his elbow. “maybe it’s been making the rounds in the trash, or maybe it found someone as soft-hearted as you to sneak it snacks.”

gojo raised an eyebrow at you, his expression a blend of suspicion and affection. “you haven’t been feeding it, right?” he asked, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “i’m just saying—this guy’s looking way too well-fed to be surviving on his own.”

you shot gojo a glare, your frown deepening as you turned your attention back to the raccoon. its big, shiny eyes stared up at you, and in your heart, you felt like it understood every word of gojo’s harsh critique. gojo’s insulted it, calling it fat, and now it looked at you with what you imagined was a pleading, almost wounded expression.

“no, satoru, i didn’t feed him... yet,” you retorted with so much sassy, leaning down and gently covering the raccoon’s ears with your hands, as if to protect it from any further slander. “and he’s not fat. you’re fat,” you shot back, eyebrows knit together.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick look, both of them fighting back laughter at your defense of the raccoon. you were so fiercely protective, even of a little, pudgy animal you’d just met. it was both endearing and utterly ridiculous.

gojo cleared his throat, trying to hide his amusement behind an exaggerated scowl. “okay, alright, we didn’t mean to insult his pride. but seriously, baby. that raccoon’s been living the good life, if it’s not a pet.”

geto chuckled, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. gojo’s arms, too, crossed over his chest as he watches you with a soft smile on his face, “and for the record, my love, i’m in peak physical condition. unlike this round, fluffy little raccoon who's been living it up on your good nature.”

he leaned against the bathroom wall, watching as you continued to defend the raccoon. “and sure,” he said dryly, “tell me it’s not getting fat when it can barely fit through that window over there. look at it—it's like a furry little bowling ball.”

you gasped, eyes widening in mock offense as you turned to gojo. “satoruuu!” you whined, drawing out his name with a pout, clutching the raccoon a little closer as if to shield it from gojo’s unrelenting insults.

then, without missing a beat, you shot a look over to geto, silently begging him to step in and say something in defense of your newfound friend. your eyes held a mixture of frustration and that playful helplessness, almost like you were saying, “do something.”

geto moved in closer, his chuckle soft and warm, creating an inviting atmosphere as he crouched down beside the tub, his eyes lighting up as he looked at the pudgy raccoon nestled in your arms. his fingers gently stroked the animal’s fluffy back, a gentle caress that seemed to soothe both the raccoon and you. you watched the interaction, your heart melting slightly at the sight of your boyfriends bonding over this unexpected guest.

turning back to gojo, geto’s amused smile widened. “you do know not all raccoons are the same, don’t you?” he teased, his tone light and filled with mirth. “some just happen to be a bit more round than others.” his eyes sparkled with humor, and gojo rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips despite himself.

then, geto’s attention shifted back to you. he noticed the pout on your lips, the way your eyebrows knitted together in defiance, and it brought a fondness to his expression. a soft smile crept onto his face as he reached up to pat the top of your head, his hand warm and comforting against your damp hair. “hey, you know we care about you, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.

his gaze lingered on your face, taking in the pink flush on your cheeks from the cold water and the storm outside. “we got mad earlier because we worry. we care so much about you that we can’t stand seeing you hurt.” his tone was serious, but the gentleness in his voice wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing some of your stubbornness.

he glanced briefly at the raccoon before turning back to you, his expression softening even further. “i know you care about this little thing,” he continued, a hint of concern entering his voice. “but it’s not a pet. it could be dangerous for you, and we don’t want that. we don’t want you catching any diseases from wild animals.” his words hung in the air, a mixture of concern and protectiveness that resonated deeply within you.

as you processed what he said, geto’s gaze remained fixed on you, watching for your reaction. he could see the reluctance in your eyes, the internal struggle between your affection for the raccoon and the logical reasoning behind his words. with a gentle firmness, he added, “we will call animal control, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

the way he said it was calm yet resolute, showing he wouldn’t waver on this point, but the kindness in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your feelings. instead, he was looking out for you, and you could feel that deep down.

you sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on you as you glanced at the raccoon, then back at geto, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting on your head, grounding you.

you opened your mouth, eyes wide and pleading as you looked up at geto, grasping for one last solution. “we could take it to the vet first, y’know,” you suggested, your voice laced with a mixture of hope and determination.

but before geto could even consider your request, gojo’s voice cut in sharply. “no.” his tone was firm, all traces of his usual playfulness replaced with a serious edge that made you pause. his arms remained crossed, his posture resolute as he looked down at you, his expression softened but unyielding. “this is the end of the discussion.”

you frowned, surprised by his uncharacteristic firmness, and a small pout formed on your lips as you tried to hold your ground. but gojo didn’t budge, his gaze steady and unwavering, showing you that he wasn’t going to compromise on this, even if he usually gave in to your whims.

you looked up at geto, your eyes filled with a silent, pleading look that you knew he couldn’t usually resist. you gave him your best hopeful expression, the one that always seemed to melt his resolve just a little. but this time, instead of caving, he let out a soft sigh, his gaze steady yet sympathetic.

“no,” he said gently, his tone unwavering. he gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing through your hair as if to soften the blow. “as much as i’d like to give in to that look, it’s still a no. it’s just not safe to keep him here.”

gojo, who had been watching the entire exchange with his arms still crossed, let out an approving hum, clearly glad to see geto sticking to his stance. he offered you a small, sympathetic smile, but there was no give in his expression either. “he’s right, love. we’re just looking out for you,” he said, his tone softening just a little.

you sighed, glancing back at the raccoon who looked up at you with those big, round eyes, almost as if he understood the situation. you muttered a quiet, disappointed “fine,” though it was clear the decision still stung a bit. geto gave your head another comforting pat.

the three of you settled into the cozy warmth of the bedroom, geto sat on the edge of the couch, carefully drying your hair with a hair dryer, his touch gentle yet thorough. you sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, a fresh set of warm clothes now covering you, and across from you, the raccoon was nestled in a towel, its round body snug as you softly dabbed at its fur to help keep it warm.

gojo, lying on his side in front of you, had his head propped up on one hand, his other arm stretched lazily across the carpet. his gaze was locked onto you, a trace of amusement lingering in his expression as he watched you tend to your unlikely new friend with such fierce dedication.

you let out a small huff, still pouting from earlier. looking down at the raccoon with a sympathetic frown, you muttered, “i’m sorry, little guy, you had to meet someone with a heart as black as… the blackest black.” you gave gojo a pointed look, clearly directing the comment at him.

gojo snickered in response to your comment, his eyes glinting with amusement as he arched an eyebrow. “hey, i just care about you,” he retorted, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “and you have to admit, that raccoon is a real tubby one.”

he reached out and gave the raccoon's round body a subtle poke, earning another disapproving look from you. sighing, you shook your head.

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the teasing glint in gojo’s eyes. “shut up,” you muttered, giving him an exasperated look. “you’re not funny.”

gojo’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting under your skin. “oh, come on, admit it—just a little funny?” he poked the raccoon’s round belly again, as if proving his point, and it looked up at you with what could only be described as mild raccoon annoyance.

you placed a protective hand over the raccoon, shielding it from gojo’s prodding fingers as you glared at him. “leave him alone, satoru,” you said firmly. “you’re just jealous because he’s way cuter than you.”

at that, geto let out a chuckle from behind you, and gojo feigned a look of betrayal, his hand coming to his chest in mock offense. “jealous of a raccoon?” he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “not a chance.” but the playful spark in his eyes gave him away, and you knew he was just trying to rile you up.

but you simply huffed, holding your ground. “whatever helps you sleep at night,” you replied, still shielding your furry friend from any more of gojo’s antics.

gojo chuckled, his expression amused as he observed you fussing over the raccoon. he rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy as he teased you further. “oh, woe is me. how will i ever match the cuteness of a fat little raccoon, eh?”

he playfully feigned distress, dramatically flinging his arm over his forehead, clearly enjoying this little back-and-forth. “i guess i'll just have to resort to using my charming personality and undeniable wit to win your heart, then,” he said with a dramatic sigh, giving you a playful wink.

you gave gojo a look of exaggerated disgust, wrinkling your nose at him. “freak,” you muttered, shaking your head with mock disdain.

gojo's dramatic pout only deepened, clearly playing along as he clutched his chest, pretending to be wounded. “oh, the cruelty,” he groaned. “my love, betrayed by her affection for a chubby raccoon!”

rolling your eyes, you turned away from him and focused on the raccoon instead. gently touching its tiny paw, you leaned in and murmured, “ignore that guy, he’s just… weird.” the raccoon looked up at you with those big, round eyes, and you could’ve sworn it seemed to understand, its tiny hand clasping around your finger as if in agreement.

behind you, geto snickered, but you kept your attention on your new furry friend, tuning out his playful antics.

as you showered the raccoon with affection, stroking his soft fur and giving him little scratches, gojo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy—not for the attention the raccoon was getting (though that was definitely a factor), but for the way you were so effortlessly affectionate. he had a knack for being playful and teasing, and he loved bantering with you, but there was something about your soft, gentle side that he secretly adored.

he watched you with your new friend, genuinely admiring the way you interacted with the little guy. but there was no way he’d admit it. as you continued to shower the raccoon with gentle scratches and murmurs of affection, you couldn’t help but whisper, just loud enough for both geto and gojo to hear, “they’re so cruel… separating me from you.”

you sighed dramatically, running your fingers along the raccoon’s fur as it leaned into your touch, seeming perfectly content. without even looking at them, you could sense gojo and geto exchanging looks, probably fighting back smiles.

“you’re my only friend in this cold, heartless world,” you continued in a soft, woeful tone, earning a snicker from gojo as he nudged you with his foot.

gojo chuckled, teasingly scooting closer to you and poking your cheek. “oh, the drama queen strikes again,” he chimed in, his tone light and playful. he couldn’t help but relish this lighter side of your banter, appreciating the little moments of silliness you shared.

geto grinned warmly, his playful demeanor never far beneath the surface, even in these quieter moments. “i swear, one day you’ll realize that we are actually quite lovable, you know,” he mused, a hint of challenge in his voice, goading you to argue against that statement.

the three of you stood by the door, you felt a heavy wave of disappointment wash over you, watching the raccoon being carried off by animal control. your shoulders slumped, and your lips tugged downward into a deep pout as you raised a hand to give one last, pitiful wave.

“goodbye, my fluffy friend,” you called out dramatically, voice filled with exaggerated sadness. “i’ll never forget you!” gojo tightened his hold on your waist, his hand firm as he gently but decisively kept you in place, rolling his eyes. “alright, alright,” he muttered, unable to hide a faint smile. “you’re acting like you just lost a lifelong pet.”

your pout deepened as you looked up at him, sighing dramatically. “he could’ve been my lifelong pet, if it weren’t for you two.”

geto, standing on your other side with his hands in his pockets, simply shook his head, his gaze warm but resolute. “it’s for the best, you know that,” he said softly, his calm tone filled with an affection that softened the blow. “we just don’t want you getting hurt, alright?”

you let out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly into gojo’s hold as you gave one last forlorn look toward the raccoon being taken away. “i hope you find a home as wonderful as the one we could’ve shared,” you whispered wistfully.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head as he gently nudged you. “come on, drama queen, let's get you inside before you make us adopt a whole zoo.”

you pouted, but didn’t protest further, leaning into gojo’s arms in defeat. “i just hope he finds someone who loves him as much as i could have,” you muttered, your voice soft and sad as you watched the raccoon disappear from view.

geto put an arm around your shoulder, gently nudging you towards the warmth of the house. “oh, you'll find another one to dote on soon enough,” he teased, his tone light but filled with affection. “but for now, let's get you back to the real world.”

you sighed, shoulders slumping as you murmured a soft, “alright,” letting go of the last thread of resistance. with a defeated pout still on your face, you allowed geto and gojo to guide you back inside, their warmth a silent comfort.

leaning into gojo’s chest, you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your back. the affection behind his gesture made you feel both comforted and exhausted, a soft wave of tiredness settling over you now that the raccoon had gone.

gojo’s hand rubbed slow circles on your back, sensing the way your energy had drained, and he whispered softly, “are you tired?” his voice held a tinge of guilt, as if he regretted making you let go of your little friend.

you nodded, your eyes half-lidded as you sank further into his chest. “yeah… just a little,” you admitted, voice barely above a murmur.

gojo hummed in acknowledgment, a soft smile spreading across his face as he processed your tired response. leaning down, he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead before murmuring, “let’s get you to bed.”

with that, he effortlessly scooped you up into his arm, wrapping one strong arm around your thighs, holding you securely against him. instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, seeking comfort as you nestled your head against his warm shoulder.

the familiar scent of him—like fresh linen and something uniquely gojo—wrapped around you, making your heart flutter. as he carried you through the house, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, easing some of the lingering sadness from earlier.

“you know,” he said playfully, glancing down at you as he walked, “if that raccoon had stayed, he wouldn’t have gotten this kind of treatment. you’re too spoiled for your own good.”

you leaned against him, humming in mild protest, though your weariness quickly won out over any desire to argue. your voice came out soft and quiet, an exhaustion tinged with affection. “am not...” you murmured, your words almost lost to a delicate yawn that followed.

gojo's arms tightened around you as he settled you comfortably against his chest, his gaze warm as he glanced down at your sleepy expression, a soft smile on his lips. “oh, but you are,” he teased, his tone light and affectionate.

“you just can't resist being spoiled,” he whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek, a soft reassurance that his teasing was nothing more than lighthearted affection. as he carried you, his steps were slow and steady, a gentle dance that seemed to rock you closer and closer to the land of dreams.

the warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat against your own, it all lulled you into a state of tranquil comfort, your eyelids heavy. with a murmured hum of contentment, you let yourself sink further into him, his presence becoming a soothing anchor amidst the growing drowsiness.

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