#(that's a lie i LOVE the night caller)

[brenwritesss]

Tru Fru part 5

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You miss your girlfriend too much, and she's completely whipped for you.

Warnings: smut and language

a/n: the final part of the Tru Fru series!! Have fun!!

It’s been seven months since you and Paige had made your relationship official and life couldn’t be any better. You loved waking up to her beautiful face every morning, going to every one of her home games at UConn, kissing her during the sunset, but most of all your favorite part was being loved by her. She spoiled you as if you were the only girl in her world. Every week followed the same routine: flowers, gifts, date nights, cuddles in bed, and sex. It was almost too good to be true. 

However, with the end of the semester approaching, that came with too much homework and studying, and not enough time. Being a STEM major was tough work, especially when all you wanted to do was spend the time you dedicated to your work on your girlfriend instead. What made matters worse was that Paige was away for a game, and the amount of phone calls, texts, and FaceTimes didn’t lessen the miserable feeling of missing her at all. Not to mention, with all the stress you had been having throughout the past week, not having her with you to release that tension and stress was beginning to show. 

You were sitting at your desk, so deep into your homework that you almost didn’t notice your phone ringing. You pick it up, Paige’s caller ID flashing across the screen. You couldn’t help the small frown that crept onto your face as you answered. “Hey.”

Paige’s voice that always soothed you came through your speakers. “Hey baby, I’m not interrupting anything right?”

You shook your head as if she was in the room with you. “No you’re not.”

“Ight, chill. You haven’t been responding to my texts all day so I got worried. Everything okay?” You could hear the genuine concern laced in her voice and it tugged at your heart. You didn’t mean to not respond, but with all the work you were doing and missing her, you kept pushing it off, not wanting her to see how much her being away was affecting you.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve been studying all day that I haven’t really been on my phone.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“I miss you,” she paused. “Well, I always miss you so I bet you already knew that.”

You wanted to laugh but knowing that she missed you just as badly as you did made you want to break down. “I miss you too.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked you. In the seven months you had been dating, Paige had instantly learned how to read you, even when she wasn’t near you. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. “Why?”

“Y/n, you’re my girlfriend. You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? Talk to me, princess.” And this was the reason you fell in love with her. How she cared about you was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.

“I just…” you trailed off, debating if you actually wanted to tell her what had you upset. “I’m really stressed out.”

“With finals?” It was like she read your mind. Almost.

“Yeah.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that you got it in the bag,” she reassures you. “You’re the smartest girl I know. Not to mention the hottest.”

Thank God she wasn’t here to witness the blushing mess you had just turned into. You let out a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you.”

“But seriously, you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. And I know this because I did the same thing when I was training, so I get it. But it’s not gonna help you," she paused and you could hear her take in a deep breath. "God, I wish I could hold you right now.” It was almost like she said that last part to herself and it made your heart jump.

“Yeah, I wish that too. I know I shouldn’t be doing too much, I just can’t help it. You’re not even here so I’m bored.” And that was when you heard her smug, deep laugh.

“Babe,” she says into the phone. “Don’t boost my ego like that.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me how much you miss me.”

You sigh, only causing her to laugh more. “I miss you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” she asked you and you could just picture that hot smile on her face. “How much?”

“Too much,” you whispered into your phone.

“Don’t lie to me like that.”

“Okay, fine. I hate that I’m feeding your ego like this but I’m miserable without you.” You braced yourself for her reaction to your words.

“There it is,” she says while laughing. “It’s almost like I was expecting that answer.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Hell no. Fuck you? Every damn day for the rest of my fucking life.” You’d be lying if you denied that Paige saying that did things to you.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why? Because it’ll get you all wet?” 

“Paige Bueckers, what the fuck is wrong with you?” And you stood by what you said. Paige knew exactly how she was making you feel because she had made you feel it almost every day for the past seven months.

“Answer a question for me baby.” You replied with a soft “hm”, telling her to continue. “Is one of the reasons that you’ve been missing me so much because you’re horny?”

You froze. Damn, she knew you well. “Maybe.”

“I fucking knew it. You’re horny. Babe, I’m making you wet right now aren’t I?” She spoke to you in that hot, soothing voice that just made you melt every time you heard it.

“Talking like that, what do you expect?”

“Send me a picture of that pretty pussy for me real quick. I need to see something,” she ordered. And as she had expected, you did just what she had asked because a few minutes later, you sent her a photo of your pussy, all wet for her. Did it take you a few tries to get the angle right? Yes. Did Paige need to know that? Hell fucking no.

Paige, still on the phone when the photo was sent, sighs heavily through the mic. You just knew she was staring at that picture. A few seconds passed before she sighed again, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Wait what?” That girl was states away and was not expected back for another three days. What the hell did she mean by that?

“I don’t think your pussy can go three more days without some attention. I’ll be at your place by midnight, love you baby.” And with that, she hangs up on you.

It was in that moment that you knew Paige Bueckers was insanely whipped for you.

So naturally, you did what any other sane, sex-deprived college student who was missing her girlfriend would do and sent her another picture. Only this time, you made sure it was extra wet. Just how she liked it.

Paige ❤️

All wet for me

Better be laid out all pretty for me

Yeah, that did it. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew she would be here soon, you would have jumped in bed and gone to town. But Paige wants you all wet and pretty for her. And who were you to argue?

You felt as if you had lived through a hundred years before you heard a knock on your door. You wasted no time in almost running across your living room to the front door, grabbing the knob, and opening the door to reveal a tall and muscular Paige leaning against the doorframe, hands in her pocket. She lifted her eyes up from the floor and they landed on you, taking in the sight of you in your bra and her shorts. She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped closer to you. “Told you I’d be here in a few hours.”

Your throat went dry and you suddenly lost the ability to speak. Although, you figured that was only one of many times that would happen tonight. Paige walked in and shut the door behind her, not even waiting another second to wrap her big hands around you. The contact you had missed so much this week was finally back again and it made your heart flutter. 

Her arms tightened around your waist, gently picking you up as you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Missed you so much.”

“From those pictures, I could tell,” she says as her hands move to your ass to support you. She kisses your cheek, walking to your room. “I missed you too.”

“Need you right now.” Your words set a fire inside Paige as she practically threw you on your bed, ripping her shorts off you. Her hands roamed all over your body and that was when you believed that your body was created to fit her hands. It just fits so well.

“Fuck baby,” she whispered in your ear. “You have no idea how bad it was on that plane, looking at your pussy and not being able to touch her.”

“Just my pussy?” you asked her in the most innocent way possible with a look that made her shiver against you. You tugged at her shirt, pulling it off her with ease.

She took it from your hands and tossed it to the side. “Every damn part of you.” That was all she said before she devoured your tongue, sucking it in between her lips and creating a slobbery, wet mess between your mouths. You wanted to get her kisses tattooed on you, never forgetting them for the rest of your life.

Her hand brushes up your stomach, palming your breast and that’s when you feel a small surge of pleasure coarse through your body and straight to your core. She brings her mouth toward your right breast, cupping it in her hand as she gently rolls her tongue over your nipple. You moaned at the sudden rupture of heat from her tongue, raking your hands through her hair. She spits on it, licking it all up again. “Only mine to see and suck like this.”

“Mhm,” you breathe out, tightening your grip on her hair. “Only yours.”

She licks a line all the way up from your tits to your jaw, latching her mouth back onto yours. One of her hands steadies herself on the bed while the other grabs your leg and hooks it over her waist. Using that same hand, she rubs it up and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps after each trail. You tighten your leg around her waist which earns you a small moan that you could almost feel deep in the back of your throat. 

“Paige baby, please,” you whisper into her mouth. She lets go of your lips, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck. 

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Need you to fuck me,” you say bluntly. It was almost as if you could hear the low growl coming from her throat as it vibrated through your bones.

Her hand moved from rubbing your thigh to caressing your inner thigh, inching up higher and higher. The way she caressed your thighs perfectly made you whine out for more as she demolished your collarbones and neck. Her fingers moved toward your pretty pussy lips, practically feeling your arousal. She pulled away from your neck and looked down towards her fingers, admiring the sight below her. You whimpered at the feeling of her fingers on you, just teasing you. “Baby please.”

Paige goes back to kissing your neck, nipping at your skin occasionally. “Just relax, gonna get you so wet for me.”

She spends the next few minutes teasing you; circling your clit a few times then applying pressure as she slid her fingers down to your entrance, drawing an invisible circle around it, then dragging her fingers back up to your clit only to repeat the same pattern again. She had you a whimpering mess, grabbing at her back and her hair, lightly pulling at it. 

“Fuck, P,” you whined.

“Keep those beautiful words coming,” she says as she finally enters two fingers into your tight hole. You gasp as your grip on her shoulders tightens. You try to clench your legs together but she moves her knee in between them to keep them apart. And of course, knowing Paige, she had to say something about it too. “Don’t even think about it, princess.”

Her fingers thrust in and out and you could hear just how wet you were becoming. And to Paige, that was music to her ears almost as much as your moans were. And God, did you fucking love that sound of her fingers inside your cunt. “Paige, oh my–”

“Just like that,” she said, speeding up her movements which earned her another pornographic moan from you. She nodded at you. “Yeah, just like that.”

“That’s so fucking good, mmm,” you moaned, making direct eye contact with her. You were becoming soaked now and Paige knew that with a few more thrusts of her fingers, you’d be cumming onto her. And although seeing you cum on her fingers was one of her favorite things ever, she needed it to be better. To remind you how she was the only person who could even touch you like this. So she pulled out her fingers which resulted in an almost suctioning sound and stuck them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, pretty girl.”

You wasted no time in licking her fingers clean, even though you were slightly annoyed at the fact that she pulled them out before you could cum. “What are you doing?”

Paige smirked at you. “You tell me how much you miss me, I see your pussy, and I fly all the way over here, and you think I’m not gonna take my time and fuck the shit out of you?”

That’s when you knew you shouldn’t even think about making plans tomorrow. Or the next day after that. And maybe the day after that too. Before you could even say anything, she slides a box out from under your bed and pats your leg. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right back. And I better not see your hands anywhere near your pussy when I get back.” She walks into the bathroom with the box.

You felt as if you couldn’t even function properly with your body almost shaking and feeling as if you were out of breath. You wait a couple minutes, starting to grow impatient trying to wait for Paige. Finally, she emerges from the bathroom, a nice, long, and thick strap attached to her waist. You widened your eyes at the sight of her just as you did every time you saw her wear it. Every time, you always questioned yourself as to whether or not you’d be able to take it. But Paige always made sure you knew that you could take it perfectly every time.

She walks up to you and uses her hands to push your legs farther apart. You quiver underneath her touch. She uses two fingers and slides them between your folds, letting them become coated in your juices. She then pulls her hand away and rubs it on her purple dick. The purple, plastic dick she used to fuck you so many times. Once her fingers transferred your coating onto the strap, she then ran it down your folds like she had just done with her fingers. You felt as if you could cum just from that and you wanted nothing more than to flip Paige onto her back and ride her.

“Tell me how much you missed this,” Paige orders you, aligning it against your entrance. You gasped at the movement and gripped onto the bedsheets.

“I–” you breathe out as she begins pushing it inside you. “Fuck.”

“Keep telling me,” she says, not pushing it in all the way.

“I needed you to–”

Your gasps stop you from talking as she begins to sink into you even more. You gather up your strength to moan out, “fuck me like this so badly.”

Paige finally lets the strap sink deep inside you. Your moans filled the air of your room and Paige watched you in awe. She admired everything about you in this state: the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your knuckles turned white from gripping the bedsheets and the way your back arched from taking it.

Paige began slowly thrusting, putting her hands on either side of your waist to gain more control while she thrusted it inside you. You were a moaning mess at this point and you didn’t know where to put your hands. You continuously moved them from the bedsheets to the pillow under your head, to the headboard. 

Paige took your moans as permission to increase her speed. As she moved faster against you, she gripped your hips harder. “Just like that. Taking me like a good girl.”

You could feel yourself getting more slick as she slid inside you every second. And you knew that at any point you were about to cum from her. Paige moved one of her hands from your hip to your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and then bringing her hand back to your hip. 

Paige can tell you’re about to cum and that’s when she not only continues to speed up, but begins to thrust a bit harder, hitting the spot that she knew would make you come undone right on her. “Can’t take it anymore,” you whine out just as she begins hitting that spot deep within you earning more loud moans.

“Yes you can baby, you always do,” Paige says as soothing as she could. “Now let me see that pretty pussy cum.”

And that combined with how deep she was hitting was all you needed to release. You cum right onto Paige’s dick as the knot in your stomach breaks. You almost cried out at the sensation. Paige rubbed circles on your hips and helped you ride out your high like she did every time. “Just like that,” she cooed.

You go numb on the mattress, holding your breath as Paige pulls out of you. You spend the next few minutes trying to regain control of your breathing and let your heart beat get back to normal as Paige takes off the strap. You almost could still feel her inside you and she’d never let you forget it. 

Finally, you gather the strength to speak, “You felt so good.”

Paige laughs as she slides the box underneath your bed. “You always take it like a princess.”

You laugh as your body is still trying to recover from being completely wrecked just a few minutes ago. Paige climbs into your bed, lying down beside you and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. You lay your head on her chest, tracing random shapes on her abs. “I love you,” you whisper to her.

She kisses your head and pulls you as close as she can to her. “I love you too, princess.” You’re a smiling mess as you lie with her and enjoy the feeling of being in her arms. That is, until she speaks up, “So, you got any Tru Fru in the freezer?”

[todomochi-uwu]

Who (1/?) -J.Y & S.M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

"Mingi, please. I think we should talk; I don't feel good and…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm tired."

You are always tired these days…

"Yunho, love do you want to go out and check out that new cafeteria? I heard they have…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm busy."

You are always busy these days...

Things haven't been the same in a while, always in a rush, always in a mood. You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you. It was a type of routine you had grown accustomed to, and even if it was killing you inside, the idea of being without them was way worse than the pain of their neglect. Cold, endless nights laying in a bed that was way too big for you; tasteless dinner plates that would end up in the trashcan or at the back of the fridge rotting. A home that was crumbling from its foundations, one that you had so desperately tried to patch up and fix by yourself. But in the end, you just had to face the cruel reality, that they don't care. You were not a priority; your relationship was at the bottom of their list.

That's how you ended up at Chan's apartment, in the middle of the night, with so much as your phone in your pocket and your heart in your hand.  He had been your main support the last weeks, anything you wanted, anything you needed, no questions asked. Whenever you woke up crying, whenever you broke down in the middle of the day, Chan was always there to comfort you. And so, you laid there, in his chest, the aftermath of a movie night in which you had only cried twice, an important milestone.

The constant buzzing in the pocket of your pyjamas was making it quite hard for you to continue sleeping. You knew exactly who dared bother you so late at night, it had been the same callers every single night for the past month.

"Don't answer it." Chan's groggy voice filled your ears. He was right. You declined the call and turned off your phone.

But said-call had already done its job, you couldn't stop thinking about the phone, well the people behind it. Your phone was full of texts and missed calls, eight people behind them, because their friends were loyal like that.

They are so sorry.

Please talk to them.

Yunho is drowning himself in work.

Mingi doesn't even talk to us.

Funny it is. A few weeks ago, it seemed they could live perfectly fine without you; they could go on with their day without even glancing your way. You gave them every single piece of your being just to get crumbles in return. But at the same time, your heart is weak, it can’t help but break every time you read one of their texts, wondering if they miss you that much, if they are sorry, if maybe, just maybe, you should go back.

“Y/n… you are overthinking again.” Bang Chan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I know, I just feel bad, Chan. Maybe I overreacted, maybe if I tried a bit harder to talk to them…” There you were again, trying to justify their actions. Chan gave you the same stern look he had been giving you for weeks, every time you blamed yourself.

He got up, not mentioning the subject anymore. Tired of going on about the same subject, “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order in.”

It would be a lie to say you were not enjoying Chan’s presence. Having someone to talk to, someone to have a meal with, even someone who sits next to you without being on their phone or computer, you miss not feeling alone. And even though you were heartbroken, you felt warm on the inside.

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

While you might be doing somewhat okay, the other parts of your relationship were not. The house was in complete silence, no matter the hour, no matter the day, no one would dare say a word, their mouths too busy sobbing every single time they remembered their sins, taking you for granted, neglecting you, breaking you.

Yunho would keep himself busy at the hospital, the idea of going back to a broken home simply made him nauseous, and even if the lack of food and the stress were killing him, he much rather endure that than face the harsh truth. Mingi wasn’t any better, endless nights spent in the office, acting as if he was reviewing cases, but the reality was that he just wanted a place to cry without anyone noticing him. Even the love between them was running cold. Fight after fight, they spat cruel words and thoughts trying to get all the hurt and anger out of their chests, blaming themselves, blaming each other. How did they not notice things were so wrong? How could they let things get so wrong?

“Oh, don’t act as if I'm the only one who wasn’t here, you slept at the office almost every day. I came home late, but you didn’t even come at all.” Yunho said, venom in his voice and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Mingi scratched his forehead in frustration, he could feel the bile going up his throat. “Forgive me for trying to pay the bills, someone has to pay for the house, the student loans, the fucking food that’s on the table.”

“Fuck off, don’t you dare say I’m not bringing any money. Besides, you know that this is temporary while I finish my residency…”

And there the cycle began once again, a screaming match of arguments that never went anywhere, masking the true cause of their pain. Tears ran down their faces, their voices broke down more and more with each word they let out, Yunho's body trembled so much it hurt, while Mingi’s chest felt as if it was about to explode.

“I’m not okay, Yunho.” It was the first time any of them said it out loud, his voice was much raspier and heavier than the usual one.

“I'm not either, Mingi.” He whispered, fearing he would break down even more if he admitted it much louder.

“She left three weeks ago.”

Yunho could only nod.

“She’s not coming back, is she?”

“I don’t know, Mingi.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms

♡♡♡

Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.

You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.

You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.

"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.

You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.

Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.

The drawing room is quiet.

Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.

Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."

"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.

"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.

You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.

♡♡♡

Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.

Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.

Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.

She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.

While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.

Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.

"Benedict."

The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.

"Mother."

Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.

"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.

Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."

Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"

"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."

That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.

"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."

"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.

"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.

"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.

Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.

One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.

♡♡♡

Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.

Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.

While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.

He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.

Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.

The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.

Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.

You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.

Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.

If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.

You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.

Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.

"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.

You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.

"Hello."

Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.

"Are you well?" He asks.

You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.

"Yes. Quite well, thank you."

Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.

Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.

"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.

"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.

Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.

You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."

"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."

You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.

"Yes."

"How many names did you get on your card?"

"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.

"I was the only one?"

You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.

"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.

"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."

He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.

"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.

"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.

"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."

You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."

"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.

"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.

Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.

"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.

Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.

"Mother. Daphne." He nods.

"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.

Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."

Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.

"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.

You all look at her.

"Mofher." Benedict sighs.

Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."

You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.

"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.

Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.

"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."

Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?

Violet was so looking forward to this.

Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.

Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.

"Nothing, Mama."

She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.

"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.

"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."

"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.

"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."

She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.

You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.

♡♡♡

Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.

"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.

Its addressed to you.

'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.

Lady V.Bridgerton.'

"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.

Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."

"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.

Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.

When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.

He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -

[heartseungs-archive]

can we love? | l.dh

word count: 2.5k | genre: best friend! haechan, f2l, 90% of this is just fluff honestly | warnings: none

The phone buzzes repeatedly on the table, begging you to answer it. However, you avert your glance from its place on the table determinedly, turning your eyes back to your computer screen. Your lecture notes sit in front of you, untouched since an hour ago, a mug of coffee cold on the table.

The phone starts vibrating again, and you are starting to find it mildly annoying. “Not so different from the caller himself,” you huff. The mention of the pink-haired boy causes him to immediately surface in your head, and you groan. You’re sure he’s one of the most persistent people you’ve met, and while it’s usually endearing, this time it’s for the entirely wrong reason.

The loud ringing of your doorbell serves to jolt you out of your temporary daydream, and you close your laptop, sighing. Not much studying will be done today, if any at all. “Coming!” You exclaim absentmindedly, sock-padded feet thudding gently along the hallway.

The sight that greets you at your doorstep, however, has you quickly attempting to slam it shut. “Nope, not you. I’m not taking any visitors today,” you say, as you hastily step back and attempt to retreat back into the safety of your home. You curse yourself for not even thinking before you opened the door.

Unfortunately, Lee Donghyuck is faster and stronger than you, and it’s a futile attempt to slam the door shut in his face. Still, you attempt to block his way at the door, in a last-ditch effort to halt the intruder. As if he hasn’t been over to your apartment a dozen times, you think. Shut up, Y/N. Is your brain’s next reply.

“You must be excited to see me. This is the fastest you’ve opened the door,” Donghyuck says, mirth in his eyes.

The both of you still haven’t moved from the position at your doorway, and with your hands on your hips, you almost look like a petulant child.

“I’m busy, Donghyuck. What do you want?”

“You.”

“Stop joking around. I don’t have the energy for this,” you bite, narrowing your eyes. The tone of your voice comes out cold, and you don’t miss his slight flinch. An apology is ready to leave your mouth, but you immediately bite your tongue, remembering why, exactly, you have to act this way.

“I meant it, by the way. Exams are over, Y/N. I want to know why you’ve been ignoring every single one of my messages since last Friday.”

Donghyuck is rightfully concerned, of course. The both of you message multiple times throughout the day, and see each other even more, to the point where your friends think you are attached to the hip. Donghyuck and Y/N. Y/N and Donghyuck. It seems to roll off the tongue naturally even for you.

Of course, that was before you realised the weight of your massive crush on your best friend, kindly pointed out by Karina. In her words, you ‘looked at him like he was your sun and everything revolved around him’. She hadn’t even batted an eyelid when she had dumped the bucket of cold water over you.

Cue two sleepless nights and going entirely offline for a week, and you were left where you were now.

“I was…preoccupied,” you stutter, and to be fair, you were. With trying to internalize your attraction to Donghyuck, but you don’t mention that part to him.

“So preoccupied that you couldn’t message your best friend once?” Donghyuck takes a step closer to you, and you instinctively back away until your lower back meets the cold marble of your countertop.

Yet, he keeps coming closer, and you can feel your heartbeat desperately trying to keep up with its panicked pace.

“You know, you look down at your feet when you lie.”

Your eyes widen and you immediately look up, only to be met with Donghyuck’s face inches away from your own. Up close, you can see the sun-kissed freckles that dot his face, and your shocked expression reflected in his eyes.

His eyes flood with fondness then, and your heart cracks, just a little bit. Your actions have hurt him, you realise. And Donghyuck is the last person you wish to hurt. For god’s sake, you’re head over heels for the boy.

“I…I’m sorry. I was just thinking about some things. And I needed some time alone. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you breathe out, staring directly into Donghyuck’s doe-brown eyes. But you can only hold it for a few seconds before your cheeks redden. He’s still much too close for comfort.

Donghyuck smiles then, the corners of his mouth lifting up instead of the smirk he is so often used to. He grabs your hands gently, rubbing his thumbs over your palms, and you think your heart might just stop entirely.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?” His hands are so warm, you think, and they seem to fit perfectly in yours. You’re not sure how you didn’t realise that earlier.

He laughs lowly under his breath, casting an amused gaze at you. “I said, what were you thinking about? Tell me what goes on inside that pretty head of yours, Y/N.”

Pretty. He called me pretty.

“Um…” your voice trails off. You’ve never been very good at impromptu, Donghyuck always being the more spontaneous one of you both. At every gathering, he’s the one cracking the jokes. In karaoke rooms, he’s the one singing his lungs out, while you clap and help to queue John Legend and Michael Jackson for him.

Despite his curiosity, Donghyuck understands that you’re not sure what to say, or not yet ready to say it, and is quick to interject. He’s always been quick that way, despite his teasing and flirting. And especially careful and observant when it comes to you, he thinks. Still, he wonders what dilemma caused you to withdraw from him for days.

“You know, you said you didn’t want anyone to disturb you before the exams and I thought that included me. So I stayed away because I thought you’d mind my presence. I know I can be quite distracting.” Donghyuck’s tone is playful, but there is also a silent question hidden within it, an underlying concern.

“I don’t.” Your voice comes out slightly faint, and Donghyuck leans imperceptibly closer.

“What did you say? I can’t hear you.” Now, he’s just teasing. Still, you give in to Donghyuck easily.

“I don’t mind. Your presence, I mean. Even before exams.” The words come out in a rush, and yet crystal-clear in the silence of the room. They settle into Donghyuck, radiating warmth, and he feels impossibly happy and relieved.

“Really?” It’s Donghyuck’s turn to be nervous now, and you can’t help but feel another surge of affection for him. You nod, and his smile turns even brighter. Just the smallest and simplest of your actions are enough to make him happy. Donghyuck wishes to tell you that, but he’s not sure if you would scoff at him for being dramatic again.

“So you won’t mind even if I come and pester you every day for hours? I can be very stubborn, you know.”

“No. I wouldn’t mind. You can come over whenever you wish. Only if you pay for delivery though.” Your banter with Donghyuck comes naturally, even as each of his actions flusters you more and more. He finally pulls away, and you watch him as he walks towards the kitchen. Air floods your lungs once again, and your heartbeat gradually slows down.

“Deal. To prove it, I’ll even cook ramyeon right now,” he states confidently, and you observe as Donghyuck moves from shelf to stove with ease. He already knows where everything is. He looks at home, you realize, and you’re not sure what to feel about that.

Donghyuck is your home too, you think. He’s the person you feel the most comfortable with, the one you seek out after a long day. Except for the past week, where you had to avoid him when confronted with the weight of your newly-discovered feelings.

Yet, you think you’ve loved Donghyuck for a long time. Even if that love blurred from platonic to romantic as you grew up. You’ll always love Donghyuck, because he is your sun, illuminating every crevice of your life. And existing with him standing in your tiny kitchen in his white t-shirt and sweatpants, feels as easy as breathing.

The aroma of ramyeon quickly fills your apartment, and Donghyuck grabs the cutlery to sit with you at the table. He blows gently on the spoon, before directing it towards you.

“Try it. Is it good?”

It’s just seasoning and water, and yet it’s the best thing you’ve ever had in your life. You nod, and Donghyuck’s face lights up. He begins scooping the ramen into your bowl first, and you watch his actions with a look of almost pure adoration.

It makes you want to let go for once, and not be scared. To be as brave as Donghyuck makes you feel.

“I like you.”

His hand stills, and Donghyuck grins. “I know you like me. Who doesn’t?” The casual tone of his voice almost makes you want to brush it off, but you gather up what remaining vestiges of bravery remain. If you don’t say this now, you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to do it again, friendship be damned.

“I don’t mean that, Donghyuck. I like you. A lot.”

You watch as he fumbles slightly with the spoon, quickly grabbing it from his hand before he can spill the broth on himself. “Careful,” you mutter lowly. The air feels thick with tension, and yet Donghyuck, who usually chatters your ear off, is dead silent.

You can feel your hands trembling slightly, and quickly hide them under the table. As much as you’re sure Donghyuck is still your best friend, the rejection is still a hard pill to swallow and stings its way down.

It seems like much more than a few seconds as the ceiling fan whirrs above gently, and smoke drifts up from the now rapidly-cooling pot of ramen.

Before you can change the topic to something else, however, your hands are engulfed by much warmer ones, and Donghyuck’s lips are on yours.

He’s gentle even now, almost as if you’re made of fragile glass. Donghyuck has a way of making the people around him feel treasured, almost as if you’re basking in his glow. Your hands unconsciously make their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his curls that have now faded to a light pink. You swear his breath hitches slightly when you do it, and that only makes you smile against his mouth.

When the both of you finally break away, your face is flushed a bright red, and you feel lightheaded. You’re not entirely sure if it’s from the temporary lack of air or the fact that Lee Donghyuck, your best friend of sixteen years, just kissed you.

He leans his forehead against yours, close enough to kiss him again, if you so wished.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Donghyuck murmurs. You avert your eyes from him then, not entirely sure how to reply. The past few moments were a haze, a blurry dream that you’re not entirely sure happened.

You bite your lip, worrying it, and don’t miss how Donghyuck’s eyes dart to them briefly.

“Was that…a yes?” Your question is a nervous one. You’re not entirely sure what else to say, especially when Donghyuck’s looking at you like that. Like you hang the moon and the stars in the sky and he is tempted to kiss you dizzy, until you forget your own name.

The boy in front of you rolls his eyes then. “Yes, Y/N. That was a yes, if you couldn’t figure out from the kiss.”

“Oh. So are we…”

“We’re dating now. You’re Y/N, my girlfriend. And I’m Donghyuck, your boyfriend. It’s that simple,” Donghyuck utters this with an effortless confidence that only he can have, and it causes you to break out into a smile.

“Okay.”

Donghyuck and Y/N. Y/N and Donghyuck. You suppose it sounds even better now that the label has shifted from friendship to romance.

“Now, will my girlfriend please eat the ramen that I put so much effort into? I can’t possibly let her go hungry,” Donghyuck complains, a familiar pout making its way onto his face. However, you’re so used to his antics that you barely bat an eyelash, instead silently acquiescing by taking a bite of ramen. Before you can place it into your mouth, however, Donghyuck leans over and places a gentle kiss on your cheek, and you narrowly avoid choking. Still, you think it’s something you could get used to, and little do you know, Donghyuck has the exact same sentiment.

The both of you pass the dinner in companionable silence, occasionally catching each other’s eyes. Donghyuck simply smirks, while the colour of your cheeks shift from pink to red, and back to pink again. Despite it being more difficult to eat, Donghyuck resolutely holds onto your hand, as if he’s scared he’ll never be able to do so again.

Finally, his attention drifts away from you and more towards the food, and you observe as he hungrily devours the ramen. His features are soft and rounded, eyes bright as he eats. Donghyuck’s elegant profile seems even more noticeable today, when he’s barefaced and in the simplest clothes known to man.

You meant it when you realised that along the way, Donghyuck had become a sort of refuge for you, away from the turbulence that was university life. Despite his endless pranks, he was also the first one to lend you his jacket in cold libraries, and the only one to recite your coffee order on early mornings.

Looking at him, the feeling is sweet, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You make a mental note to thank Karina at some point, for everything she’s done and helped you to realise. For now, you are simply a sunflower basking in the warmth of your sun, and it’s all you need. 

[buckyalpine]

A little longer

HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 

Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry

-

"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"

Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 

“For fucks sake Sam-”

"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"

Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  

Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 

Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 

"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"

The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 

5:30 AM

The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 

“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 

“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 

“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”

“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 

“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 

“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 

"Alright, but bring your girl too"

There it was. 

He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 

“Whatcha say Barnes?” 

Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 

"I thought you only invited family" 

"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  

“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 

“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”

Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 

His sweet neighbor. 

Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 

The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 

He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 

“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 

“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 

“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 

“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 

“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 

“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 

“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-

“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 

“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”

Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 

“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”

“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.

“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 

All his.  

The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 

Problem solved. 

*****

This was a bad idea. 

A bad, bad idea. 

Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 

Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 

"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 

An angel.

You looked like an angel. 

"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 

It was going to be an interesting day. 

*****

Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  

“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 

He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 

Interesting. 

“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 

“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-

Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 

“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 

“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 

“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 

You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 

You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 

He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 

“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 

“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 

Why was he so perfect. 

Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 

When was he ever this smooth. 

If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-

“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 

“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 

“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 

“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 

“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”

They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 

“He looks happy”

Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 

“He is happy”

Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 

At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 

You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 

****

Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 

Fuck he wished this was real. 

You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 

If only it wasn’t just for a day. 

“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 

“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 

“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 

“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 

“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 

“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 

“Just a little longer?” 

“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 

A few years later

“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 

“Not gonna happen” 

“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 

“You caused chaos” 

Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”

“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 

“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 

“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”

*

“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 

“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 

“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 

“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​ @lolawassad​ @almosttoopizza​ @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​ @buckycallsmeaslut​ @kamaria-sweet-writes​ @charmedbysarge​ @xnorthstar3x​ @kryoee7​ @alina02​ @gh0stgurl​ @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​ @eralen​ @perdidosbucky-yyo​ @clqrosmgc​  

[fluentmoviequoter]

We're Getting Married Now?

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!LAPD!reader

Summary: When Tim finds out you need a fake boyfriend to take to your cousin's wedding, he steps up and offers to go with you. After a night in his arms, you learn that his "boyfriend act" isn't just an act.

Warnings: I referenced a few lines from The Rookie (no spoilers though), a few vague mentions of insecurities and rude family members (they apologize). lots and lots of fluff!! one bed trope?

Word Count: 4.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your phone rings on the way to work, you don’t expect to see your aunt’s name on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” you greet. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I was going through the seating chart for your cousin’s wedding and seemed to have misplaced your RSVP,” she explains. 

“I, uh, I didn’t get an invite. She’s getting married?”

“Of course. You lot aren’t getting any younger, as I’m sure you know, and when she met her fiancé, well, I think we all knew. Anyway, you say you didn’t get an invite? Must’ve gotten lost in the mail, those incompetent kids aren’t as reliable as they used to be. I suppose that explains your lack of congratulations, though, which I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear.”

“I bet,” you mumble before asking, “So what do you need from me? Sorry to interrupt, but I’m nearly to work.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I suppose the wedding planning is making me a touch scatter brained. All I need from you is a confirmation that you are attending. It’s at her fiancé’s family orchard, I’ll send you the address. Everyone is coming out Friday evening and the wedding is Sunday afternoon.”

“Uh, yeah, I have this weekend off. I may be a bit later on Friday, but I’ll be there.”

“And I’ll assume you’re still single, so no plus one. Although, sweetie, you really shouldn’t let this discourage you. I’m sure you have plenty going for you and the right man is out there somewhere,” she says, lowering her voice as pity laces every word. 

“Actually, I’ll be bringing my boyfriend. If there’s room for one more, of course.”

The words come out before you can stop them, and after you slam your gear shift up and set your brake, you grip your steering wheel with both hands. 

“Boyfriend? Well, good for you, sweetheart, I didn’t want to seem insensitive before, but your clock is ticking! I will put you down for two then. Oh, one more thing-“

“I’m actually at work and can’t be late. I’ll see you Friday,” you rush out before ending the call. 

Hitting the back of your head against the headrest, you wonder who you can ask on such short notice. Getting a fake boyfriend is entirely avoidable, of course. You’d have to tell another lie about him being sick or dumping you or call your aunt and explain that her constant jabs at your lacking love life pushed you to speak without thinking. 

“That would go well,” you murmur as you gather the strength to get out of your car. 

She’d probably say something like, “Well then he just wasn’t the one,” before telling everyone that you did something to get dumped, or she’d remind you that you’re running out of time, it’s practically too late, so you should stop trying. You don’t mind being single, but she rips you apart, finding a way to make it your fault for being too busy with work, unwilling to compromise, or “looking too chubby in red.” (Her words.)

As you walk into the station and change into your uniform, you are struck with the perfect idea. 

“Nolan!” you call, rushing to his side before he can enter roll call. “I need a favor.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he answers kindly. 

“Long story short I need a fake boyfriend to go to my cousin’s wedding or my aunt will expose me as a dirty rotten liar who can’t get a boyfriend.”

“Wow,” Nolan responds. “Does she really- never mind. When’s the wedding?”

“This weekend.”

“Bailey and I are going to San Diego to meet Henry for a few days. I’m so sorry, I’d help you if I could.”

“Yeah, no problem. Thanks anyway,” you tell Nolan while looking for someone else you can ask. “Aaron!”

Aaron turns in the doorway, stepping back toward you and Nolan with raised brows. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“I need a date, a fake boyfriend for a wedding this weekend.”

“I don’t do weddings.”

“Aaron, please,” you plead.

“Look, I’d love to help you, but my family’s got a big dinner thing this weekend and they rarely end well, so I’m booked.” He pats your arm and adds, “Hope you find someone who can help.”

You nod as he walks inside. Looking around the station, you realize your options are very limited. 

“Think Angela would let me borrow Wesley for a few days?” you ask Nolan. 

“Why don’t you just find someone to actually take as a date?”

“Because that’s the entire problem, Nolan. I can’t get a date.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

As you follow him into roll call, you whisper, “I’m going to have to ask Smitty.”

Nolan stifles a laugh, shaking his head as he takes his seat. You tune Wade out after receiving your assignment for the day, glancing around the room as you try to find someone else you can ask. Maybe you should just cancel, tell your aunt that you’re the one who got sick, and now neither you nor your boyfriend can make it. 

Standing in the bullpen, you have your aunt’s contact pulled up on your phone but can’t seem to press the call button. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Sergeant Bradford,” Nolan says. “I need some advice.”

“I already don’t like this, but go ahead,” Tim replies, resting his hands against his belt. 

“If a fellow officer, a close friend, was going to cancel going to a family member’s wedding because she couldn’t find a fake boyfriend to keep her controlling aunt off her back, would you help her?”

Tim doesn’t answer, turning away from Nolan. As he walks toward the bullpen, Nolan raises a fist in victory, hoping it works out for you and Tim. It’s clear to everyone that you have feelings for each other, but neither of you seems eager to do anything about them. Maybe this is the push you need to take the next step. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim’s hand covers your phone screen before he takes it from you, holding it by his side. 

“You need a fake boyfriend?” he asks. 

“Who told you? ... Nolan, I should’ve known not to trust him and his big mouth.”

“Who’s getting married?”

“My cousin,” you answer, pursing your lips in confusion about why he’s interested. 

“The cousin from the aunt that manipulates and belittles you every time you see her?”

“I’m still sorry for calling you that day, I shouldn’t have. Just didn’t have anyone else to cry to.”

“She lied to you, told you things about yourself that couldn’t have been further from the truth. So, now that you have lied to her, what are you going to do about it?”

“Cancel,” you whisper. “If I can just press the button to call her.”

“I’ll call her,” Tim offers, raising your phone. “Or I can go with you.”

“Tim, I can’t ask you to do this- to lie for me and spend your weekend off at a wedding, around people you don’t know.”

“You’re not asking,” Tim reminds you. “Which one? I make a call, or I go with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Tim smiles while assuring, “We’re friends, and we’ve been on vacation together before. This is just like that.”

“I don’t want to go…”

“But you don’t want to deal with the grief you’ll get if you don’t. I get it, but I’ll help in any way I can.”

You nod, taking your phone from Tim. “Thank you.”

“When do we leave?”

“Friday night. The wedding’s Sunday.”

“Two days before? Why?”

“I don’t even want to think about that right now.”

Tim raises your right hand, pushing a bent paper clip over your finger as he promises, “I will make sure you survive this weekend.”

“And I… will apologize in advance.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get out of the shower Friday night and get dressed, all you can think about is the weekend ahead. If you or Tim get uncomfortable, you could put your relationship on the line to look like a happy couple in front of your family. 

Tim’s knock draws you from your thoughts, and when he takes your bag from you, you realize something: Tim already acts like your boyfriend, so he really is boyfriend material. Your crush on him is bound to be affected over the next 48 hours, but he agreed to this, so maybe there’s a chance he feels more than friendship, too. Shaking the idea from your head, you accept Tim’s help as you climb into the passenger seat of his truck. He waits until he’s on the freeway to ask you about the wedding and your family. 

“What’s the fiancé like?” he asks. 

“I haven’t met him. Didn’t even know they were getting married until a few days ago.”

Tim nods, laying his elbow on the center console and moving closer to you without thinking. 

“I- I want to go ahead and tell you that you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. My family can be a lot-“

“I’m not here for them. I’m spending the weekend with you, and nothing more. Remember that, okay? So, if you need an excuse, a buffer, anything you want or need, that’s me this weekend.”

“I can never repay you for this.”

“I’ll give you a call next time I need a wedding date,” Tim suggests. 

“Deal,” you reply with an easy smile. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone squeals your name, and Tim grips your hand when you flinch. 

“I’m so glad you made it!” the woman says, pulling you into a hug.

“Of course. And congratulations!” you reply. “Sorry about the invitation confusion.”

“Oh, no worries, I get it. Stuff happens. My mom said you were bringing your boyfriend?”

Tim steps forward, wrapping an arm around your waist as he offers his other hand. “I’m Tim, the boyfriend your mom mentioned.”

“Oh,” your cousin says, shaking his hand. She looks between you and Tim, and as you begin to expect a sarcastic comment, she says, “Nice to meet you, Tim.”

“That wasn’t so bad,” Tim whispers in your ear. 

“I guess I could’ve been overthinking it,” you admit. 

“You’re in chateau Sauvignon Blanc,” a man says, passing a key to Tim. “Follow the white path and you won’t miss it.”

“The chateaus are named after wine,” Tim muses. “Must be nice to be marrying into a family of nepotism.”

You laugh at him, and when he refuses to let you carry your bag to the chateau, you fall into easy conversation on the short walk. Entering, however, you stop in the doorway. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim asks quickly, stepping forward so his chest presses against your back. 

“Nothing, just- there’s only one bed in here,” you say quietly. 

“I think we can make it work. There’s always the floor if you want to treat your fake boyfriend like that,” Tim jokes, closing the door and tossing your bags on a nearby chair. 

“I- why’d you agree to come?” you ask him. 

“You needed a date.”

You don’t quite accept that. It’s not enough reason for someone as logical as Tim Bradford. You don’t have time to question him further, though, as you receive a text that dinner is being served in the main tasting room in just a few minutes. 

“Hey,” Tim says, laying his hands on your shoulders. “We’re two people on vacation together. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Sorry. It’s just, this isn’t what I was expecting.”

“That’s okay, but we’re going to keep moving. No one knows me here, so I’m whatever-“

“I need you to be,” you repeat. “Thank you.”

Tim smiles, and you take your bag into the bathroom to get ready while he changes. When you exit, wearing your favorite outfit and hairstyle, Tim stands, offering both his hands. 

“You look stunning.”

“Clean up pretty nicely yourself, Mr. Bradford.”

“Oh, so you’re a flirty girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, attempting to pull away from Tim. He tightens his hands around yours and pulls you into a hug, hooking one arm around you as he leads you back to the white path. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Sitting beside Tim, your hand stays in his until the food is served. So far, all of the attention has been on your cousin and her fiancé, and you’re more than happy to listen along to their chatter rather than talk yourself. 

“What about you two?” your grandfather asks. “How’d you meet?”

Tim moves his hand out of yours, patting above your knee as he answers, “We met at work; different divisions, but we joined forces for a narcotics bust and I just couldn’t get her off my mind, so I had to ask her out.”

“How long have you been together?” someone inquires. 

“5 years,” you and Tim say together. You add, “But we’ve only been serious for what? 6 months or so?”

“Since you finally agreed to my begging, you mean?” Tim asks, sending you a comforting smile. “Yeah, about that.”

“Cute,” your cousin comments before the conversation returns to her. 

You close your eyes and release a breath, leaning toward Tim when his hand covers yours again. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“How are we doing this?” You ask, standing at the side of the bed with your arms wrapped around your waist. 

“It’s a bed,” Tim says, blinking at you. “Seems pretty straightforward.”

“Well, yeah, but… what if I, like, snore more or something?”

“I’ll live. Just get in the bed.”

You crawl under the covers, murmuring, “Thought you were gonna call me boot there for a second.”

“I still may,” Tim responds as he turns the light off, lying beside you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Thank you, Tim.”

“No problem.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, it’s a few minutes before dawn, and a strong arm is holding you against the mattress. When you try to move, Tim pulls you closer before tucking you against him as he relaxes again. 

“Friends on vacation,” you remember, pressing your cheek against his chest as you get comfortable. 

Suddenly, you remember you have to survive another night by his side. The idea makes you want to pull away, but his touch and heartbeat lull you back to sleep before you can. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Your cousin is here,” Tim whispers, shaking you gently. “She wants to talk to you about dresses.”

“You’re a snuggler,” you mumble as Tim pulls you out of bed. 

“No one will ever believe you,” Tim says darkly. 

“Is she really here?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that. This isn’t a horror movie.”

Nodding, you pick up a change of clothes and move into the bathroom. Tim’s voice is muffled through the wall, but you can tell he’s being civil even as his patience wears thin. Straightening your outfit, you open the door and smile at your cousin and Tim.

“You’re wearing that?” she asks.

“You’re beautiful,” Tim says, smiling at you.

“What exactly are we doing?” you ask.

“I wanted to see the dress you’re planning to wear to the rehearsal tonight and the wedding and reception tomorrow. If you need something different, we can-“

“I won’t need different dresses,” you interrupt. “I like the ones I brought.”

“As do I,” Tim adds. “But I’ll leave you two to talk about dresses.” He stands, kissing your temple and pausing by your side to whisper, “Call if you need someone to save you.”

Smiling, you tell him to be careful. Your cousin waits until he leaves to sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to show the dresses you packed.

As you hold them up, you remember Tim's compliments this morning as you hide your smile at her surprised reaction. And his arm around you last night. He’s taking his fake boyfriend duties seriously, and you’re unsure if your feelings can survive another night beside him.

“They’re pretty,” your cousin says finally. “I have a few more things to do before the rehearsal this evening, but I’ll see you around.”

“Congratulations again,” you call, exiting the chateau behind her to look for Tim.

When you round a corner on the white path, you run directly into Tim. His arms come up to catch you, holding you against his chest as he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Did it go okay?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your spine.

“Yeah. She said the dresses were pretty, so that was unexpected.”

“Wait ‘til she sees them on you,” Tim replies. “Can’t imagine getting upstaged at my own wedding.”

“What do you want to do for the rest of the day? The rehearsal isn’t until 5 and then most of the wedding party is leaving for bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

“You could model the dresses.”

“Stop,” you plead, laughing as you press against Tim’s chest.

“It’s my duty as your boyfriend.”

“I knew I should have asked Smitty.”

Tim narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where do you think the red path goes?” you ask.

“Are you asking me on a treasure hunt date?” Tim replies.

“Maybe. Care to follow our own version of the yellow brick road? See if you can find your usual personality on the way back to Kansas?”

“You don’t like my new personality? The one I created just for you?”

“Tim,” you warn. “Red path, yes or no?”

Tim takes your hand, leading you out of the chateau and back toward his truck before turning onto the other path.

“If we find a crime scene or something,” you begin.

“What?” Tim interrupts dramatically.

“If we find something unexpected, what then?”

“Wait,” Tim calls, gently pulling you back toward him. “What is this about?”

Glancing down, you say, “Last night.”

“Look, if I made you uncomfortable-“

“No, not at all. The, uh, the unexpected part was how much I liked it,” you admit quietly.

Tim taps his knuckle lightly against your chin, smiling as you raise your head to look at him.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to ruin anything. We’re friends, and I care about you, but this weekend could ruin everything if I make one wrong move.”

“You said it yourself, we’re friends, and we’ve been friends for years. Walking on eggshells around me all weekend is unnecessary, not to mention more dangerous than just telling me you like being cuddled.”

“You like being cuddled.”

“Never say that aloud again.”

You chuckle, taking Tim’s hand as you begin walking again. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you stop.

“The red path looks exactly like the white path,” you point out.

“Not true. The red path is red, and the white is white.”

“Wow. You should have been a detective.”

“Are we on the same page?” Tim murmurs.

“Yeah, I’ll be myself with you this weekend. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nerd.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, Dorothy.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from Tim. He laughs before taking a few long steps to catch up with you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Tim apologizes, and you lean against him, trying to remember what he said about being honest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi, sweetheart,” your aunt greets you as you enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner. “You are at table 2, and your boyfriend is at table 9.”

“You didn’t seat us together?” you ask.

“Well, it was late notice, learning you were bringing a plus one. Sorry.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks.”

Tim lays his hand on your lower back, leading you to your table.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, reaching over the table before leaving.

You watch him walk to his table, switching a nameplate before returning to your side. He sets his nameplate on the seat beside you, sighing as he sits.

“Have I told you recently that you’re the best?”

“You don’t have to, I know,” Tim answers smugly.

“What do you want to do when this is over?”

“Planning ahead, aren’t we?” Tim smiles as he leans toward you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Exiting the venue, you take Tim’s hand, wrapping your other hand around his forearm as you walk beside him. He tugs you closer, keeping you close until you’re back in your chateau. After changing quickly and washing your face, you collapse onto the bed.

“I thought my family was tiring,” Tim jokes.

“Still up for cud- lying closely on the same piece of furniture?” you correct.

Tim leans over you, smiling as he says, “Since you asked so nicely.”

You stare at the ceiling until Tim returns and pulls you into his side as he lays beside you. Rolling against him, pressing your ear to his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, you accept that things are changing.

“I don’t think we can go back to how things were before,” you mutter.

“Me neither,” Tim agrees softly, moving his hand to your upper back.

“Did I ruin everything by letting you come with me?”

Tim rolls onto his side, facing you rather than holding you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Does everything get awkward after the wedding?”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Tim answers. “I offered to come because it was an opening to spend time with you.”

“But-“

“We’re friends, right? That’s what we say but that’s not how it feels.”

“How does it feel?” you whisper.

“Like more. Tell me you’ve been pretending, and I’ll let this go, but nothing I’ve said this weekend has been a lie or an act.”

“I have feelings for you,” you confess. “I have for years, but I didn’t know how to tell you or what you’d think. So…”

“We both did. Stay quiet to preserve a friendship that could have been much more.”

Inhaling deeply, you move forward, closing the distance between you and Tim.

“You asked what happens after the wedding,” Tim says. “I’d like to keep going from here.”

“I’d like that too.”

Tim smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he rolls over, pulling you with him. You laugh against him, falling silent when you look into his eyes.

“Can I-“ Tim begins.

“Kiss me,” you demand.

Tim cups your cheeks as he pulls you down against him, kissing you softly. You slide your arms over his chest, holding his jaw as you reciprocate his every move. Tim’s arm tightens around your waist before someone knocks on the door.

Pulling away, you sigh before getting out of bed, cracking the door open to see who it is.

“Hi,” you greet, surprised to see your aunt outside.

“I moved your seats for the wedding and reception,” she tells you. “Since you seem inseparable.”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry for earlier, and for interrupting. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

After you close the door, you press your hand against it and take a few breaths, surprised by her apologies.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, sitting up as he watches you.

Walking back to his side, you lie down and move against him, smiling as you answer, “I’m great.”

Tim holds you close, both of you falling asleep on the same side of the oversized bed. When you wake up the following morning, you chuckle at the sight of it, with one side still made after a night in Tim’s arms.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’ve been in there for a while,” Tim calls, tapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.

“Maybe she was right,” you answer. “I mean, the dress looked great on the mannequin, but…”

“Open the door,” Tim demands.

“No.”

“I will kick it down. You know I can.”

You pull the door open before he can do anything, and Tim’s eyes widen when he sees you.

“You look…”

“I know.”

“Perfect.”

Furrowing your brows, you look down at the dress.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks. “In the outfit, in general?”

 “I feel good, really good.”

“Well, you look even better. Don’t let whatever someone said make you think otherwise. And I was right.”

“About?”

“You’re gonna look better than the bride.”

Tim’s smile, accompanied by his kind words, makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly. Your relationship with him has changed this weekend, and you’re still giddy because you can tell him you love him whenever you want.

“I love you,” you say against his suit.

Tim pulls back quickly, looking into your eyes as he asks you to repeat it. After you do, he smiles and replies, “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

“We’re going to be late,” you remind him, narrowly dodging a kiss.

Shaking his head, Tim offers his arm, keeping you close as you walk to the wedding venue entrance. Finding your seats, you sit beside Tim, pulling one of his hands into your lap as you look at him.

“Those bouquets are really bright,” you say.

“Our wedding will be much better,” Tim agrees.

“We’re getting married now?” you ask, smiling.

Tim looks at you from the corner of his eye, shrugging as he says, “Why not?”

“I love you, Tim Bradford.”

“Thank you for letting me be your boyfriend this weekend,” he replies. “I love you.”

“Oh, you’re going to be my boyfriend for a lot longer than this weekend.”

“And after that?” Tim asks, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“That part is up to you, I think.”

You stand, keeping your hand in Tim’s as the wedding procession begins.

“Then, yes, we’re getting married,” Tim whispers. “But it will be perfect.”

Keeping your attention on one another throughout the ceremony, you fall in love with Tim again. After the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, you pull the paper clip ring from your dress pocket. Tim stands, and when he turns to you, you raise it.

“Tim Bradford, will you be my boyfriend?”

Tim chuckles, pulling you up to kiss you before you slide the ring onto his finger. He had nearly forgotten about giving it to you before leaving the station but seeing it on his finger makes him even more eager to marry you someday.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Bad Idea, Right?

Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1,317

A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.

P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.

You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you. 

But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.

“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”

You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.

Liar.

Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.

But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.

The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve. 

And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.

But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex. 

You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.

But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again. 

And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.

You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.

“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”

You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.

Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”

Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.

But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation. 

He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly. 

But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”

You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.

He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.

He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral. 

He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips. 

“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.” 

His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.

He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.

“Dean, please, just give it to me.”

“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little. 

“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.

“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”

He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.

You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.

“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.” 

As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. 

He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.

“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”

All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[lethalchiralium]

Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader

a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat

warnings: mentions of injury, trauma

summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.

It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.

“Hey.”

Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.

“Yes, John.”

“Don’t be that way.”

Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.

“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”

There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”

Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”

There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.

You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.

“M’here.”

Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.

“You were in Afghanistan last night.”

“I lied.”

“You seem to do that often, John.”

Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?

“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”

Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.

Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.

“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”

“Stop.”

“Please. I’m here.”

“What do you want, John?”

“I want come home.“

Another pause.

“Please let me in.”

Your stomach lurched.

You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.

“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”

You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.

He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.

Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.

“Are you hurt?”

He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.

“Breathe, John.”

You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked again.

He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.

“What do you need?”

You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.

That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.

“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”

Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.

Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”

“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.

He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”

You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.

You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.

You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”

He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.

Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

I Miss You, I’m Sorry || Tom Blyth x Singer!Reader

Summary: In which after your break up with Tom, you write a song about him and fans start to speculate that it is about the two of you.

Warning: swearing, kinda toxic Tom?

Wc: 1,123

A/n: someone asked if I would do a Sabrina Carpenter x Tom fic but I thought I’d do it with Gracie Abrams instead bc I absolutely love her <3 (I don’t mention Gracie, it’s still an x reader)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you?

You squeal in excitement. You had just dropped your first ever album. “I’m so proud of you, my darling,” Tom hugs you tightly as he kisses your hair. “Thank you,” You says against his ear.

That night, the two of you stayed home, ordered pizza and drank wine in each other’s arms. Tom was so incredibly proud of you, he knew the hardships you faced that year when composing the songs and everything else that was going on in life.

You felt so blessed to have had Tom by your side during the particularly rough year. “I love you,” You whisper, your breathe fanning Tom’s neck as he pulls you closer to him. “I love you more,” He whispered back as you smiled.

Then all of a sudden, you're sick to your stomach, Is that still true?

Tom felt sick in the stomach knowing what he had done. It was a simple drunken mistake that he could never forgive himself. He cheated on you. He could never forget how he absolutely shattered your pure heart, all because of his drunken actions.

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it, Please be honest, are we better for it?

“I will forever love you, y/n.” He says against your lips before kissing you. You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bring him closer to you.

“You said you’d love me forever Tom- I-I don’t understand why’d you would do this-“ You furrow your eyebrows as tears had blurred up your vision. “I’m so sorry y/n, please-“ He tries to say as his hand touches your arm but you pull away from him, too hurt, too broken.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called and said, "I miss you", I caught it

You pick at your fingernails as your leg bounces up and down. You were sat at your desk, alone in the house. It had been a month since you broke up with Tom. And you couldn’t help but think about him every single day.

He was your everything. You couldn’t just get him out of your head that quickly. You flinch at the sound of your phone going off, buzzing on the table as you turn your phone over revealing his name on the caller id.

You stare at it for a few seconds, contemplating. “Hello?” Your voice was quiet as you hear a silence on the other end. “Tom? Are you there-“ “I miss you,” You hear him say, his voice just as shaky as yours; you bite your trembling lip, trying so hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to come out.

Good to each other, give it the summer, I knew you too

Little did you know that that summer was going to be your last one spent with Tom. He hadn’t told you that he had cheated on you yet, but you felt a shift.

You felt a change that you tried to ignore the best you could until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

But I only saw you once in December. I'm still confused.

You saw him once in December. That was all. You didn’t know why he was ignoring you and being so distant.

You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it. I miss fightin' in your old apartment

“Forever.” What a fucking lie. “Why are you being so fucking distant towards me!” You yell, walking into his apartment as he slams the door behind him. “I’m not! I’ve been busy with my own fucking life y/n” He screams back as you both stare at each other.

“You could still try and make an effort Tom! I’m your girlfriend!” You storm up to him, finger pointing at him as he shoves your hand away from him, walking away without saying a word. “Don’t walk away from me-“ You shout as you follow him upstairs, “I don’t want to talk right now,” He seethes, slamming his bedroom door on your face.

You stand there as you scoff. You lift your hand up to knock but figured it would be no use, so, you walked back downstairs, grabbed your things and left.

Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed, I still love you, I promise

“Why-Why couldn’t you just tell me y/n,” He pulls at his hairs as you sat on the couch, knees to your chin as you look down on the ground. “I didn’t know how to,” You say quietly, not sure if he heard you.

“Y/n,” He sternly says as you look meet his angry eyes, “I said, I didn’t know how to tell you-“ smash. You flinch, gasping at the noise of mug smashing into little bits. Tears started flowing down your cheeks as you bury your head in your arms, sobbing.

Tom breathes heavily as he realises what he’s done. “Fuck,” He walks to you on the couch, his hand softly touching your hair as he listens to you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n,” He whispers he sits beside you, placing a gentle kiss on your arm.

“Please forgive me, darling,” He cooed. His anger got the better of him. You look at him, teary eyed. He wore an apologetic look on his face as you cry even harder, sitting on his lap as he hugs you tight, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted

You stand in the living room of your house. Eyes puffy from crying, and a bag in hand with your things that you collected from Tom’s place. Looking around the place gave you flashbacks of you and Tom.

You got this house soon after you started dating Tom nearly 4 years ago now. There were so many memories made here and you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

And I know you said that we're not talkin', But I miss you, I'm sorry

You felt somewhat guilty for missing him. After all, he was the one who cheated on you. Tom told you it would be better to go our seperate ways and limit interactions with each other as much as possible.

It still hurt. Waking up and knowing your relationship with Tom ended. The one person you could confide to was no longer there for you. The one person who knew how to cheer you up after a rough day wasn’t by your side anymore.

The one person who would travel with you around the world for concerts, and if he couldn’t, he would make sure to face time you every day no matter how early or late it was for him.

[episodes-ff]

The Brotherhood

Shoutout to my fiancée Reina for inspiring this with her incessant flirting 😘

Kierra

Sitting in my room, I busied myself with my studies as I listened to Summer Walker sing me into bliss. I finally was getting over this nigga and all the shit he put me through and I was so proud. Erik and I were in for what I thought would be forever, but forever turned out to be a bald faced lie. I finally had enough of the toxicity and bullshit, and I was finally getting back to loving me. Sipping my wine as I puffed on my thick ass blunt, I vibed to my jams and studied before my little pamper session was interrupted with a call. Seeing the signature 'No Caller ID', I rolled my eyes at his feeble attempts to contact me before I saw my bestie's missed text.

From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Babyyyyyy! Come to this party with me pweaseeeeeeeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Un uhhhhh! Arielle, I got work to catch up on! And where tf is this shit anyway?! It better not be at his! From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: It's not. I promise🩷 To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: You said that bs last time, Ari😒🙄 From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Girl plssssssss!!! To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: 🙄Pick me up in 45 and bitch DPMO From AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Ouuuu thank youuuuuuuuuuu❤ you so good to me! Imma name my first baby after you, girl To AriPoo🩷🌸✨: Bitch stfu🤣

Heaving a deep sigh, I ashed my blunt before placing it on the tray and sitting it in the fridge to hold for later. Getting up, I grabbed my favorite smell goods and wash set before heading into the bathroom to shower. Lavishing in the quick shower, I made sure I hit all my spots using my scrub to accent my wash. Stepping out, I lotioned my body and threw on a couple spritz. Heading to the closet, I settled for a chill black t-shirt and black sweats before topping off the fit with my Retro Mid Red Velvets. Layering some necklaces and a couple rings, I quickly removed my bonnet and admired my hair as I heard Ari pulling up. Rolling my eyes and laughing, I put on some strawberry gloss before flicking it up real quick and heading outside. Stepping in her whip, I looked up as she whined. "Girlllllll, what are you wearing? You look like a whole pretty ass stud!" Arielle fussed as I shook my head. "I told you I didn't wanna go forreal. Be lucky I'm in this car, bitch." "Ugh, you get on my nerves!" "Where are we going anyway?" "Don't even worry about allat." She smiled before pulling off as I rolled my eyes and uploaded my pics.

@kierras_world: Certified heartbreaker🖤💯

Riding along as she bumped some hood shit to get us in the party mood, we laughed and rapped along before pulling up to Cru. Seeing the sign out front that read 'Greek Night' I looked over at her and mugged her. "Ari, what the fuck are we doing here?!" "What you mean?" She mumbled placing on her gloss and checking her face as I crossed my arms. "I'm not fucking going in here." "Girl! It is not gonna be that bad. We just gone pop in so I can see Lando for a little bit and then we'll be out." "Arielle, no we won't! You gone get in that mothafucka and start humping on him and he ain't gone want you to leave. I'm not tryna be anywhere near Erik and you know that!" "Kiki, I'm sorryyyyy! It'll be just for a little bit ok? Who knows, you might meet your new nigga." Rolling my eyes to the pit of hell, I threw a mini fit in my seat before grabbing my ID out my bag as she smiled. "Ouuuu, I promise you won't regret it, now let's hurry up! I'm tryna get a good spot to see my man during their stroll."

Walking in, we were fully engulfed into the chaos of frat brothers and sorors mixing and mingling among the masses as the music blasted from the speakers. Spotting Lando as he chatted with his friends, Ari went running into his arms as I rolled my eyes. "Baeeee! You look so handsome tonight, Daddy." She whimpered sweetly as he nuzzled her neck with kisses. "I can say the same for you, sexy. You tryna make a nigga act up in this club, baby?" He husked as she giggled obnoxiously against his chest. Smiling at her, he looked up finally acknowledging me. "Wassup, Ki?" "Nun much. How you doing, Lando?" "I'm better now that my baby here. Your man E around here somewhere." He stated looking around for Erik as I shook my head. "He is definitely not my man!" I clarified as he looked past me chuckling. "So I'm not ya man, baby?" He breathed against my ear as I shivered under his touch.

Turning me to face him, I fought tooth and nail trying not to get lost in his appearance as he stared me down. Looking away from him, he gently lifted my chin back to face him. "Can you fucking move?" "No! Why you been dodging me, Bunny?" He asked calling me by that awful nickname that I used to cherish so much. "Move, Erik." "Will you just talk to me? What did I do wrong, baby?" He murmured against my neck slinking his strong arms around my waist and rubbing my backside. "Baby, um, I got the shots. What is she doing here?" His new little piece, Jayda, asked in confusion as her and her girls eyed me with hatred. "Exactly why the fuck you're blocked, nigga." I spat prying his hands off me before walking off.

Erik

"Why the fuck was she over here, Erik?!" "Man watch the fuck out! Why you so pressed about it for? We not together." "We fucking every night like we are though!" She rebutted mugging me as I clenched my jaw. "Key word, fucking. You just a quick ass nut for me, mama. It ain't nothing special between us so do yoself a favor and wake the fuck up." I spat getting in her face as she frowned on the verge of throwing puppy dog eyes as if I gave a fuck. "Baby, why are you even chasing her?! She's not here with you, I am! I don't know why you worried about that fat bitch." She ranted. "And just who the fuck you calling a fat bitch?! Cause you not ever competing with my best friend, not even on her worst day." Ari gritted pushing past me, Kari, and Jayda as he sighed and mugged me. "Whatever this shit is? Handle it. Got me getting in trouble and shit cause yo hoe don't wanna act right a-" He continued to rant as I palmed my forehead.

Spotting our rivals as they strolled through, I put on my game face as their chapter sponsor, professor Cross, conversed and joked with ours, Dr. Anderson and his wife, Vanessa. Getting the other brothers in line, we watched the tail end of their side strolling in to one of their anthems as we made eye contact with Terry and his lackeys performing one of their arduous chants. Can't believe I ever called this nigga a friend. Growing up, me and Terry were thick as thieves, always in some shit together or just chilling. We even planned our careers together, both choosing to embark on our academics at Clark Atlanta University with Kiki by our sides. Shit took a turn junior year a little after Kierra and I made things official, but I'll never know why. I feel like his ass was jealous of what we had so he decided to distance himself, but that ain't none of my business. My only priority is Kierra and getting back into her good graces.

Looking up, I noticed he was all in her face as she giggled at his antics. Hell naw! Telling Jakari to hold down the line, I made my way over to break up their lil happy time. "Ahahaha!" I chuckled obnoxiously as she cast a cold glare in my direction. "Ain't this beautiful? My old friend and my girl, who would have thought?" “Nigga I’m not your girl. Move!" "Nahhhh, I wanna know what's so funny? Shiiiiit, I like to laugh." "I see you two need to talk. Kiki, I'll text you the address to that after party." "Bet thank you so much, Tee." "Anytime, beautiful." He smiled kissing her hand before throwing a smug look my way and walking off. "Kierra, what the fuck is that about?" "I don’t have to explain shit to you, bye Erik." "Will you stop walking away from this?! From us?" "You left us behind when you fucked that bitch and got her pregnant!" Sighing, I closed my eyes and nodded. "I understand, Kiki. I made a mistake but I give you my word that I've changed. Why can't you see that?" "Because this isn't the first time you've given your word and lied to my face." She murmured quickly wiping her face and walking off.

Terry

Watching Kierra as she stood off to the side sulking, I shook my head. That nigga still a fucking clown, I see. Walking up to her, I tapped her on the shoulder causing her to look up from her red cup. "Why you over here frowning, man?" "I don't really wanna talk about it, Tee." She frowned waving me off. Moving in front of her, I tilted her chin with the tip of my fingertips as I stared into her beautiful eyes. "Kierra, I've known yo ass since diapers so allow me to say this shit and take heed to my advice... fuck that weak ass nigga. I mean that shit from the bottom of my heart. You doing all this huffin' and puffin' when you could be getting that juicy ass pussy ate from the back. Now stop whining over this man and go get you some." I spat sincerely her eyes glazed over.

Watching her carefully to see if she would take heed to my message, she slowly played with her fingers before staring up at my lips. Heaving a sigh, she reached up and brought my mouth to hers in a deep, sensual kiss. Feeling the electricity crackling off of her body, I seized the moment and reached down squeezing her ass as I had dreamt of doing for years. Moaning sweetly, she gripped my camo pants yanking me closer to her as I bit her lip. "Wait, wait. Not here. Pop up to the after party." "I definitely will. Bring your fine ass friend too." She smiled biting her lip as she pointed behind me. "Shiiiit, which one?" I asked as she gazed over at Keem, Dwayne, and Duke. "Mmmmm, how bout you pick. Surprise me." She smirked kissing my cheek as I bit my lip and smacked her ass while she walked away. Chuckling to myself, I looked up and watched as Erik glared at me along with his lame ass bros, Lando, Jordan, and Rome. "Aye, Duke!" "Wassup, bruh?" "We got some shit to handle tonight." "Aii, bet that up."

**AN HOUR LATER**

Kierra

Walking into the after party at the Que house as the music boomed from the speakers, I watched the sexy bodies grind and gyrate on the main floor as drunken classmates continued living their best life. Watching Terry's fine ass emerge from the kitchen, I licked my bottom lip as his eyes found mine causing him to come closer. Wrapping his strong hands around my waist, he smirked leaning down to my ear to talk over the beat. "Glad you could make it." "Me too." I giggled before feeling chills as his lips gently caressed my neck. "Damn, you smell so fucking good, girl. Always got that vanilla shit on." He husked as I giggled harder. "I'm forreal, girl. Be making a nigga wanna bite yo fine ass." "What's stopping you?" I got serious challenging him as he walked further up on me. Gesturing him forward with my index finger, I gasped as he tossed me over his broad shoulders and glided up the stairs.

Making it into his bedroom, he placed me on my feet before encasing me in a breathtakingly sultry kiss. Exploring each other's mouths, I whimpered as he squeezed my tender breasts and backed me toward the bed. "I been waiting a long time to touch you." He praised slowly undressing me to reveal the lingerie I had changed into before arriving. Thank God I got my monthly maintenance done a few days ago. "Fuuuuuck, Kiki." He groaned making love to me with his gaze as I did a slow twirl for him. "I'm bout to fuck the everlasting shit out of you, girl." "Not so fast, baby. Where's your back up?" Smirking deviously, he let out a deep gutted 'augh' before his homeboy walked in locking the door. "Mmmm, I love a little chocolate with my caramel. What's your name, baby?" "I'm Duke." "Ouuu, I like that. Show me your best neck roll, Duke." Watching him stick out his thick pink tongue, he slowly recoiled rolling his neck and shoulders as I bit my nail. "Very impressive. Now let's see you put that tongue to use."

****

"Fuuuuuuuck, Daddy!!! Eat that shit just like that!" I cried out grinding on Duke's wonderful tongue as I resumed sucking off Terry. I was in agonizing bliss as he gripped and yanked at my hair. I'm already knowing Tasha gone have a field day when I go to my next hair appointment! "Fuck, you eating that dick up so good, Mama. That nasty fucking mouth." He praised smacking my cheek before gripping my chin and the back of my head to hold me in place. "Don't you fucking run." He seethed slowly sliding his tip to touch the back of my throat as tears and snot rained and down my face. Finally freeing me, he continued smacking my face as I shivered on top of Duke's face. I was in fucked out heaven with no desire to return earth side as his tongue made love to my aching clit.

Taken out of my trance as Tee grabbed my throat, he told me to open up before spitting in my mouth and kissing me roughly. Grinding my waist from the sensation of the kiss, I felt his buddy massaging my juicy ass. "Mmmm, eat it baby!" I moaned reaching back to grip and jerk Duke's member in my hand as my climax rumbled from within. "Nah, you using the wrong shit to grip with, shawty." Duke smiled licking my essence off his lips and he tapped me to lean up. Slipping up off of him, we changed places as I arched my ass high in the air for Terry and started to suck Dee off. Using his paddle to lash my behind, I shook under his powerful 'love taps' before he massaged his tip against my opening. "Damn, baby, stop teasing! Where's the big dawg at?" "He right fucking here, girl, don't play wit me." "Let me pet that dawg then." I mewled reaching between my legs to stroke him before eyeing Duke as I throated him deeply. "You a muhfuckin' tease you know that?" Duke realized. "It's part of my major." "Oh really? I got something for that." Tee chimed before slamming into me. "Damn, Daddy, that's all you got?" I smirked knowing it would wake up the beast. Chuckling deeply, he gripped both of my wrists before power driving me while Duke held onto my head. "Mmmmm!!" "Nahhhh, where's allat back talk, baby? You wanted the big dawgs, come and get 'em."

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[koushuwu]

*:･ﾟ✧ LIE TO ME

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): enemies to lovers, best friends brother, fake relationship, seemingly unrequited feelings, petnames (princess for reader), afab!reader, ovulation, fingering, kissing, implied m!masturbation, dryhumping, emotional smut, no editing we die like neji.

『•• miya atsumu | words: 7,4k | hq masterlist ••』

excerpt: “is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

i can’t sleep.

you sent the message before giving yourself time to consider whether it was a good idea or not. you were friends. sort of. but were you that kind of friends? that kind of couple, you corrected yourself, cringing at the idea of being in any kind of couple with him. for the record, let it be known that this whole relationship wasn’t your idea. honestly there shouldn’t even have been a relationship to begin with, but friends in mutual need helped each other out, right? right. that’s all that this was, really. a mere helping hand. for the both of you. that’s– your phone buzzed in your hand.

Caller ID: Atsumu Miya

“hello?” you said, after staring blankly at the caller id for a moment. why was he calling? and why did he call so fast? why this late? he didn’t offer you any time to mull it over any further, before he stole your breath right out of your lungs.

“want me to come over?” he asked, voice sounding a little rough through the phone. 

“why are you even awake?” you countered, head flopping down onto the pillow. come over? you glanced over at the clock on your bedside table. 3am. he wanted to come over. at 3am.

“just answer the question,” he said instead, and for a moment you contemplated whether you should just hang up. if nothing else then simply to shut him up.

“you didn’t answer mine either,” you gumbled, obviously trying to deflect. to no avail, it seemed.

“i asked first.” smug bastard. you could just hang up. but you didn’t. so why didn’t you? because you could. any time you wanted. “i couldn’t sleep either. now d’you want me to come over?” he asked again. you sighed, eyes squinting into the darkness of your apartment, as if he’d be able to see.

“absolutely not.”

“sure.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, feeling your skin heat. he was really something, that atsumu. full of himself, that’s what he was. utterly full of himself.

“just, what kind of boyfriend would i even be, if i wasn’t there for my girl in her time of need?”

“miya,” you warned, but you were too tired for it to really, truly come across. your voice too soft. his girl? his girl?

“relax,” he said, sighing. “there’s no hidden motifs. i mor gonna do anything you don’t want me to. promise,” he added after a little pause. at that moment you felt a dull jab in your abdomen. something you pushed firmly aside, instead opting for another halfhearted attempt at protest.

“atsumu–” you’d meant it to be another warning, but instead it turned into something else entirely. something soft. something you tried to deny, just as hard as you tried to deny the fact, that maybe, just maybe, you actually wanted to accept. that you definitely weren’t ready to admit just yet. and somehow, atsumu saw right through you.

“i’ll be there in 20,” he said, letting his words hang in the air for only a moment and a half before he added “see you in a bit,” and hung up.

dumbfounded, you lowered the phone from your ear. he hung up on you. he literally hung up on you. that little shit. here you were, doing him a favor with this whole relationship thing, and he just hung up on you? okay, so he might be doing you a favor in return but— it wasn’t even like this whole thing was real in the first place. so why was he coming over in the middle of the night? why did it matter? why did he even care if you slept or not? and why did that dull ache in you abdomen refuse to ease? why?

--

“bet there’s a reason for that, huh?” you’d said to him. it wasn’t often that the two of you hung out alone, but as you both waited on osamu, you might as well do it together. what wasn’t a rarity however, was the way the two of you jabbed at each other. bickering more often than not. you were friends, sure, but he was still an ass.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d asked.

“i just mean that there might be a reason why your mom is bugging you about getting a girlfriend,” you said, matter of factly. “i mean you’re fairly good looking, but then you open your mouth and well– you’re not exactly prince charming, are you?”

“you think i’m good looking?”

“see, this is exactly what i mean,” you said, throwing your hands up in mock frustration. “there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to keep a girl satisfied like that.” 

“oh really?” he’d stepped closer to you then. into your personal space, eyes locked on yours. “Wanna bet on that?”

“you’re asking– if i wanna bet?” you’d heard your fair share of dumb things coming from his mouth through the years, but this was straight up laughable. 

“yeah. wanna bet?” he cocked one of those stupidly nice eyebrows of his as he studied you for your reaction.

“how would you even prove that?” you asked, still standing your ground. refusing to step down. that was, until he opened his mouth again.

“we date,” he said, and you staggered, taking a step back. what? you didn’t think this could turn any stupider but he really did just surpass your expectations for how absurd this could possibly get. “just for a while,” he clarified, looking as satisfied as a fat cat after a feast. “think about it. i could get my mom off my back about dying alone, and you need that shitty ex off your back too, right?”

“how do you even know about–” trailing off, you’d looked at him for a moment, mouth agape as it dawned on you. “osamu.” 

“i can neither confirm nor deny that,” he said with a wink that clearly meant that you’d been right. “so. what about it?”

“what about it?” you mocked. “miya, i highly doubt you’d be able to convince anyone that we’re dating. be serious.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he’d almost sounded hurt then. no not hurt, but at least a little surprised. taken aback by your words. but then he smiled. because you hadn’t outright denied his proposal just yet. and you realized that yourself too. you fought him, yes. but you hadn’t exactly said no.

“everyone knows we don’t get along that well,” you told him. and it was true. you did consider him a friend. somewhat. but truly you mostly hang out because of your friendship with osamu. you and him had been best friends since forever, and of course, atsumu had always there too. you’d been closer as kids, but somehow he’d grown incredibly annoying throughout the years.

“opposites attract,” he said, and you scoffed. loudly.

“there’s limits.”

“are you saying you don’t think you can do it?” oh this fucker. of course,he knew exactly how to taunt you into getting his way. which strings to pull and buttons to push to light a fire under your ass. to ignite that competitive side that somehow always yearned to best him. 

“oh i can do it,” you told him, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him defiantly. “can you?”

“i’m an excellent actor,” he said, and the way the words left him so simply. so easily. it annoyed you to no end but you’d already pushed too hard. you couldn’t back down now.

“fine,” you said. “prove it. but you gotta make it convincing enough to fool even me.”

“easy.”

“is it?” you asked, and stepped closer, facing him head on, chin lifted. “convince me then. lie to me. do you love me?”

“i do.”

“bet.”

--

20 minutes came and went as you paced around your apartment, and like clockwork knuckles rapped against your door. you startled and glanced down the hall. it wasn’t that you’d thought he wouldn’t show. oh no. it was that the ache in your abdomen had only intensified, and by now you’d finally acknowledged it for what it was. and quite frankly, you weren’t sure having atsumu in your home when you were ovulating, in the middle of the night no less, was such a great idea. not that you were keen to delve deeper into that thought, but even you, who found him to be most irritating, had to admit that he was pretty. okay no, pretty didn’t even cut it and you knew that. as much as he was a menace, he was hot. really hot. and while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, often not even to yourself, you’d have to be blind not to be a little bit attracted to him. or well– not be attracted to men. there was another knock, abruptly pulling you from your thoughts. you yanked your hand from your mouth, where you’d been absentmindedly biting your nails. you made for the door, and–

“hey,” he said as soon as you opened the door, and you took him in. why did he have to be so effortlessly pretty? especially at a time like this. with his hair unruly, cheeks flushed from the night cold, and those damned gray sweats he'd undoubtedly tossed on in his rush to get to you. why the hell did he have to be wearing gray sweats? out of everything that he could have worn, why that? and oh dear was he not w– “for a moment there, i thought you weren’t going to open the door. are you gonna let me in, or should i stay out here in the cold?” he asked, and that’s when you realized you’d been staring. at his gray sweatpants. at the shadow of what hid underneath. fuck. yep. you really were ovulating. you shook it off, trying to get a hold of yourself as you stepped aside to let him in. or maybe it was to put some semblance of distance between the two of you.

“sorry.” he eyed you up, as if weighing your apology. or maybe he just took you in, calculating, reading you to find the source of your sleeplessness. as if looking behind your eyes for what you didn’t show. did he see the vicious knots in your stomach? or maybe he just took in your bare legs, trying to hide a smile that fought to pull his lips upward.

“what for?” he asked, now losing the battle as a smile really did stretch across his face. a smile that had you flustered in ways you hadn’t expected when you first texted him earlier. in ways that you didn’t want to be around him. atsumu really did sport a pretty face. he did have a smile that, for some unfathomable reason, made girls swoon. that was even if he never seemed to be able to hold onto them. he also kinda really sucked. which again made you question why you’d even texted him in the first place. since when had you become accustomed enough with him to do so? when had you become comfortable enough with him for that?

“if you keep looking at me like that, i’m going to throw you out on your ass,” you threatened, much to his amusement it seemed as he laughed softly.

“i’d like to see you try,” he challenged with a glimmer in his eyes. but then he held his hands up in surrender. “i’m not here to bicker though. if you want me to leave, i’ll leave. i’m only here because you couldn’t sleep and i want to help.” now it was your turn to study him. he seemed genuine enough, but what was he even planning to do anyway? you couldn’t seem to decipher just that, so you crossed your arms and asked.

“and how’re you going to do that?”

“you tell me,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “whatever you need, really. i can make you tea. a glass of warm milk? i even learned how to make a really good soup from samu.”

“soup is for when you’re sick,” you deadpanned. “i don’t think eating is going to make me–” you started but he countered before you even finished talking.

“i’ve also been told that i give phenomenal backrubs, actually. lie down. i’ll show you,” he offered, shoes discarded by the door as he stepped further into the apartment, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder as he crossed your floor.

“i–”

“i’m also an excellent cuddler.”

“tsumu.” this time he stopped. whether it was your tone or something else, but he stopped and looked back at you. you were wringing your hands in front of you as you looked at him, and he looked at you.

“what is it?”

“it’s just–” you turn your head, avoiding his gaze, suddenly not wanting to see his expression he didn’t look away though. you can feel his eyes on you. “don’t you think this is taking it a little too far? this whole being in love charade? no one else is here to see.” if you’d looked at him though, maybe you’d have deciphered the look in his face just then.

“who says it’s a charade?” you looked at him then. of anything he could have said, you hadn’t expected that. you had told him to be convincing, hadn’t you? and he did it well. when you watched him then, you almost fell for it. then he looked away, heaved a sigh and dragged a hand through his hair. “come on. let’s watch something until you get sleepy.”

you couldn’t quite figure out at that point, what to think or what to make of this whole ordeal. this was all very strange. new. it hardly seemed like atsumu at all, walking through your apartment and scratching the back of his head as he went. dragging your feet, you reluctantly followed behind. for years you’d found him to be a menace, and he definitely didn’t make a point of proving you wrong. at least it hadn’t seemed like he did until now. why was he suddenly so set on acting all nice and caring? why was he suddenly going out of his way like this? it was honestly kind of creepy. no– not creepy. odd. very odd. was this all because you’d told him to be convincing with this whole masquerade of a relationship? because he didn’t want you to have the last word about his acting skills? as much as you hated to admit it, he’d turned out to be quite the actor. that was a bitter thought, really. more bitter than you’d expected it to be. did you really hate losing to him that much? was that it?

“come on,” atsumu reached out and took hold of your wrist. you looked down at him on your couch, one leg popped up as he pulled, offsetting your balance and leaving you no other options but to fall on top of him or plop down between his legs. you opted for the latter. you didn’t recognize the show that he’d turned on, on the tv.

“what’re we watching?” you asked, skin warm under his hand still clasped around your wrist. you had to resist the urge to pull at it, and wring your hands together. why were you suddenly feeling so nervy? and why were you feeling so warm? you could feel him watching you. scrutinizing you. at least that’s what it felt like, but when you finally faced him, his expression was soft. soft? no. yes. soft. but also– he smiled then. that stupid smile you’d longed to wipe off his face on multiple occasions. your stomach twisted.

“i don’t know. hopefully something boring enough that you’ll fall asleep,” he said. that made you laugh. just a little bit. his smile widened. “now come. properly this time.” you looked at him. and then you looked at him some more. eyes narrowing ever so slightly. come? come where? with a shake of his head he sighed. “you really are a handful, aren’t you? if you sit like that, you’re going to fall on the floor when you fall asleep. now come here. stop looking like that. it doesn’t have to mean anything, just come. rest.”

and that was how you found yourself nestled against his chest on your couch, some shitty movie playing on the tv. at first you’d laid there, tense and rigid against him. as time passed, your body gradually relaxed, your hand settled against his chest as every breath he drew lulled you into a sense of security. you secure, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how you managed to feel like that, in the arms of none other than miya atsumu. especially not with the persistent ache in your abdomen. the pain had risen and you knew that by now, trying to rise would make you double over before you’d manage to straighten out entirely. so you stayed curled up between atsumus thighs, trying your best to ignore the pain, the sensation of his arms around you, the rise and fall of his chest. just focussing on the movie. just the movie. that’s all you needed to focus on. you pulled up your legs further and tried to do just that. you hadn’t paid attention so far really, but when you did, you saw the male lead of the movie, backing the love interest up against a door, her wrists in his hands. oh. now they were kissing. okay. his thigh moved between her legs. okay. okay, since when did it become this kind of movie? atsumus breath tickled into your hair, and you looked up at him. he didn’t look back. his eyes were trained on the screen, but his hands around your waist twitched against your skin. your skin? you looked down, noticing your shirt had ridden up just a little bit. you adjusted in his embrace, thighs pressed together as heat engulfed you whole. okay. that’s awkward. you looked at the screen again. that’s really awkward. the male leads hands were roaming and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t know where to look–

“are you nervous?” atsumu asked, and when you looked up again, this time he looked back at you. there was a soft smile on his lips and concern in his eyes. “you’re very fidgety.”

“what? no. it’s just—“ you didn’t know why you told him. maybe you were just that tired. maybe it was the concern written across his face. or maybe it was just the way he’d made you feel safe and relaxed while you’d been snuggled against him. well, whatever it was, you swallowed, looked away and confessed “i’m ovulating. it’s driving me insane.”

“you—“ atsumu started. then he stopped. there was a brief silence in which you refused to meet his gaze. embarrassment might just swallow you whole when you heard him swallow thickly. at least you kind of wished it would. but that’s when he surprised you, more than you had thought possible. he placed a hand against your cheek and turned your face, meeting his case in earnest. “maybe i could—” he swallowed again, eyes more intense than you’ve ever seen before. “i could help you with that. if you want.”

“what’re you suggesting?” you asked, surprising yourself just as much by not outright turning him down. this was exactly why you didn’t think it’d be a good idea to have atsumu in your house when you were ovulating. because you might agree to something you normally wouldn’t. because you feared you wouldn’t be able to squash the pull you felt towards him. not that you’d actually admit to feeling it in the first place.

“do you trust me?” he asked, hands around you sitting still. he held you softly, as if he was refusing to let himself do anything before you agreed. as if he was ready to let go at any moment if you refused. arms looped gingerly around you, but not quite holding you. not quite. but you wanted him to. for some reason, you actually really wanted him to. so, what, maybe you just let ignore the consequences for tonight. maybe you just say to hell with it and give in. so what if it was all a lie. at least it was a sweet one of the kind, and at least– at least you got something out of it too.

“i— think so,” you said, surprising even yourself with your words when you really did just let yourself go.

“then let me help,” he said, and lifted one hand to let his fingertips graze lightly over the side of your neck. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.” his fingers traveled down. slow. tentative. almost hesitant. as if he expected you to push him away. and not long ago, you would’ve. not long ago, you wouldn’t have let him get this close to you in the first place. let him put his arms around you. not long ago, you probably wouldn’t even have let him into your apartment, if you were being honest. goose flesh rose across your skin as his fingers neared your abdomen. then stilled. he was offering you the chance to back out. expecting you to. but you didn’t.

“keep going. you said you’d help, didn’t you?” you asked him, encouraging him to go on. to hurry up and give you what your body so clearly craved. “let me stay in the fantasy for a little while,” you added, before you were able to stop yourself. right then, you really did want to believe that this was all real. just for a little while, even if it really didn’t mean anything to him.

“fantasy? what do you mean?” atsumu asked, fingers giving pause once more on their venture beneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts. 

“stop talking. just– help me,” you said, hating how pathetic you sounded to yourself. for another moment, he didn’t move. for one retched moment, you feared he was going to pull back and you hated that thought even more. but then he moved. his other hand forced you to look back up at him, the other kept in place.

“you want to pretend. is that it?” he asked. his eyes flared but you saw no anger. no lies. “okay. you can pretend all you want. what do you want me to do? want me to kiss you like i’m madly in love with you?” there was something wicked in his face then. something– lost. no. that couldn’t be it. whatever it was, you didn’t want to see it ever again. what you did want was his lips on yours. his words having sparked something you didn’t expect.

“yes,” you told him. and so he did. he pressed his lips against yours and he kissed you so intently that you almost thought he really was in love with you. his lips ever so tender. soft. lingering between every swipe against yours as you moved him perfect symphony. when he broke the kiss, his eyes stayed close just that one moment longer, like in pure bliss.

“let me help you,” he said, as if you hadn’t already granted him permission. his lips graced yours once more. feather light, there and then gone. with your eyes closed, you felt his breath fanning against your lips still. the mere whisper of distance the only thing separating you.

“how’re we supposed so go back to what we were after this?” you asked against his lips, feeling the pull between you until even that last breath of distance was but a memory. “we were hardly even friends–”

“don’t you dare say that to me,” atsumu drew back. almost startled. when you looked at him, the look in his eyes was hard. somehow also vulnerable. you didn’t quite understand. “not after everything i’ve gone through.” you didn’t quite understand what that was supposed to mean. what he’d been through? the two of you had been through the exact same thing getting here after all. although you had to admit, something inside of you also pained. and it wasn’t just the dull ache of your ovaries or the lower back pain caused by your body ovulating. it wasn’t that, yet you couldn’t quite place it either.

“atsumu,” you said, studying his features. your body wanted nothing more than for you to close the gap once more. for him to bury his fingers inside you as you did. he always did have nice fingers. you shook your head. you should probably withdraw before you pushed past the point of no return. before it would truly be too late for you to go back to what you were. that’s what you should be doing. what you should be wanting. but for some reason, it wasn’t. “there is no way–”

“are you actually serious right now?” the wild look in atsumu’s eyes caught you off guard, when he pushed up to a sitting position, effectively putting more distance between you as you had to sit back in order not the fall. he sighed. rubbed a hand over his face before fixing you with another stare. he took a breath. then another. then he seemed to make up his mind. “i have literally had a crush on you for as long as i can even remember. you cannot seriously be telling me that you didn’t know.”

“me? a crush on me?” your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. now you were just starting to feel pathetic. you couldn’t believe you actually wanted to believe him. that you actually almost did. that you wanted it to be true. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“i am not lying!” he ground the words out, and for one moment you entirely forgot how to breathe. you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. before you could. “jesus. okay. you want truth? then listen to me!”

“‘tsumu–” 

“no. stop talking,” he said, once more cutting you off. at any other situation, you would have been severely annoyed with him at the amount of times he’d cut you off by now. but this wasn’t any other situation. right now, his hair was a mess, his face looked like it was burning, he cupped your cheeks between his palms, and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed “the truth is, that i am so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. do you really think i’d go around doing something like this for someone i didn’t feel anything for? do i really seem like that kind of asshole to you?” while he spoke, the hardness in his eyes shifted. turned to hurt in the silence that followed. his words were ringing in your ears, your mouth going dry.

“what?”

“nevermind.” atsumu’s hands fell away as he turned his head, suddenly unable to look at you. he cleared his throat and rose from the couch. “i understand if you changed your mind. i can leave–” your hand clasped around his wrist. you didn’t think. didn’t even realize that you’d moved. you only knew that you didn’t want him to leave. especially not like this. he didn’t look at you, but he stopped. you wanted him to look at you. just you.

“show me?” you asked. he moved. as if he was going to turn, but he didn’t. you saw the muscle in his jaw tick. 

“excuse me?” his words didn’t sound right. he sounded hurt. really hurt. had you really made him feel this hurt, that he couldn’t even face you? the pain inside you gnawed. shit. 

“i– your feelings,” you said. you didn’t know what you could say to make him hurt any less. but whatever you could do, you wanted to do it. maybe this attempt had been the wrong choice. you couldn’t tell what we going on in his head, but you wanted to make that pain vanish from his voice. you wanted him to sound like your atsumu again. “i’m sorry, i– atsumu, look at me.”

“what about my feelings? doesn’t matter it’s all a lie, does it?”

“atsumu, please.” he sighed, silent for a moment. then he obliged. tears rimmed his eyes when he met yours and there was a furrow between his brows.

“what?”

“i– don’t think you’re lying,” you said, surprised to find that you meant it. he looked at you, dazed as he held back those unshed tears. 

“i’m not,” he said. his voice was still thick. it was still not quite his. but when his jaw worked and he cleared his throat once more, you knew. you knew that he meant it and you knew. knew why you’d wanted it to be true. why you wanted him to stop hurting. why you didn’t actually want to go back to what you were before all this. you liked him. you liked that dickhead. well shit.

“i know.” you looked up at him in earnest, hoping he’d read the realization you weren’t yet ready to speak out loud. “i believe you. i’m sorry. stay?” the last word were spoken softly, more a question than anything, asking him not to go. 

“okay,” he agreed. then he looked away again, only throwing a half hidden glace your way as he spoke. “i can– if you need to uh– take care of uh– that– i can stay here while– you know–” you almost laughed out loud as you watched him struggle to find the words. was he seriously suggesting you go masturbate, right after he’d basically confessed to you?

“maybe you could help me?” you asked, once again fighting the laughter bubbling it way up your throat at the speed of which he whipped around to look at you. the way his eyes grew wide as he took you in. then you mustered up all the courage you had in you, maybe even emboldened by all of your body’s signals that now what the time of times for getting absolutely ravished. maybe. just a smidge. whatever it was, you cocked your head to the side and smiled. “show me. your feelings i mean. and maybe i could show you mine?”

“do you– are you sure?” atsumu asked, taking you in as he stood there before you. 

“absolutely.”

“i’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said and closed his eyes for a moment. “i already said i wouldn’t.” the sigh that left you was heavy with frustration. how on earth did you even like this guy?

“atsumu, sometimes you can really be so thick. now help me. please.”

“really?”

“yes! take me to bed,” you said, pulling at his hand to rise from the couch.

“oh. okay. careful!” when the pain in the abdomen made you double over, he caught you in the process. you weren’t quite sure how it happened, but one moment you were about to flop back down onto the couch, the next you were in atsumu’s arms as he carried you bridal style through the living room.

up close, the scent lingering on his skin was stronger. you’d already smelled it when you’d rested against his chest on the couch, but somehow this was just more. maybe it was the knowledge that this wasn’t all just one big charade after all. either way, you liked it. you liked it a lot. and when you reached your bedroom, still floating in his embrace, you weren’t quite ready to be without it, almost making you beg him to just keep you in his arms like this. almost. instead you let him set you down gingerly, on top of your bed, before laying down beside you.

“were you in pain?” he asked, gaze grazing your features as he hovered, propped up on one elbow. “before, i mean. you almost fell over.” atsumu brushed a stray hair from where it fell across your face. you’d never seen him like this, and it made your cheeks heat up under his touch, more than the ovulation already did. you couldn’t help but wonder what had him acting so softly. of course, those feelings he’d just admitted to having, might have some say. but he’d had those for a while, so why now of all times? you couldn’t help but wonder if he was nervous. if he was as nervous as you felt as well.

“i was. i am. it hurts.”

“where?” he asked. “maybe it’d be best if we didn’t–”

“my ovaries,” you said, cutting him off before he could spew any more nonsense. at least it was nonsense in your ears, because while ovulating did hurt for you, it also made you crave touch so incredibly much. it made your skin feel warmer. tingly. it made you wet simply by existing. and he had the audacity to even suggest stopping before either of you really started? “you said you’d help me, didn’t you? so help me. touch me,” you said, looking up at him and catching his eye. 

“can i kiss you again?” it was kind of cute seeing him this meek. you hadn’t realized it was something you’d be interested in, but here you were, thighs pressed together as you looked at him. it was as if he’d been transformed. where’d that cocky confidence gone?  well. maybe it was your turn to take the lead. and so you did. instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to you, almost toppling him over in the progress.

lips pressed together. the heat of your bodies crowding the space on top of your bed. your tongue gently prying his lips apart. the heavy breath he released as he let you in. with his free hand, his fingers set out on that same trailed they’d been on their way to follow earlier. your skin tingled under his touch as he mapped out every inch of your skin as his fingers traveled south. it tingled as he reached the hem of your shirt. of your pyjama pants. you leaned up to kiss him harder. he was parting and you couldn’t stop the smile that found its way into your kiss. but then he drew back, breath labored as he opened his eyes and looked into yours. his fingers lingering there, in an effort to hold back and respect your wishes.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that,” he said, resting his forehead against yours, keening as your fingers threaded into the hairs at the nape of his neck. cute. you smiled. a smile that promised no sweet nothings whispered in his ears. it promised something different, indeed.

“and i never thought i’d see the day where i’d get to wipe that smug expression off your face.” you couldn’t help the little chuckle that left you at your own words. you really didn’t think you’d see the day. and yet here you were. and what more, his cheeks were clearly heating up and you could tell he was about to bite back. that’s how he was. how the two of you were with each other. and it would seem that you actually liked it.

“well i–”

“atsumu.” his name fell over your lips in a honeyed tone. it was kind of magical how his pupils widened at the sound of your name, so sweet in the intimate embrace of your silent bedroom. it stopped his objections and retaliations before most of them made it even halfway to his lips. you’d have to remember that, you told yourself. maybe you could use it to your advantage in the future. the way his very name affected him so. in the future. because right now, what you really wanted was for him to hurry the fuck up and do what he said he would. and so you told him. “yes. touch me. please.”

and so his fingers dipped further below the waistline of your pajama shorts, underneath your panties. the sharp inhale of breath filling the air when his lips met yours once more. when the pads of his fingers met the slick leaking between your thighs. the intake of breath that mixed with your own little sigh. you’d waited for this for way too long now. you’d wanted it. you angled yourself on the mattress to give him better access. the heavy ghost of his breath fanned across your skin as he kissed you harder. and you kissed him back just as hard. you needed him. a thought you’d never thought you’d have. yet here you were and you wanted him, desired him, needed him. desperately. instinctively.

atsumu’s fingers slipped easily through your folds. the wetness that’d accumulated while he’d been there only making it easier for him to give you what you wanted. deft fingers swiping at your clit, making your eyes screw shut. you leaned up into him, a hand fisting in his shirt to pull him even closer. close enough that he pressed against your side, and the hot swirl in your stomach was all but burning when you felt his hard cock pressed against your side. you wanted to touch it. wrap your hand around it. wrap yourself–

a moan escaped you when atsumu’s fingers pressed against your hole, pushing inside your soft warm cunt. was it warm in your room? it definitely felt warm. almost scalding as you involuntarily bucked into his touch. your skin felt like it might actually catch fire. the way his fingers reached deep within you. the way he paid attention to every little keen and mewl that left your lips. how he adjusted. your hand fisted in the sheets when atsumu’s breath ghosted across the shell of your ear when he leaned in. teeth grazing the delicate skin.

“can i take these off?” atsumu’s fingers slipped from your warmth, instead toying with the hem of your shorts. you’d almost whined at the loss of contact, but his words made you shutter against him. you nodded.

“mhm,” you hummed, not trusting your own voice entirely to speak the word. thankfully, atsumu understood. thankfully, he didn’t ask for further approval before shifted to pull down your shorts. the stunned sound that reveborated at the back of his throat when he laid his eyes on your bare skin. on your exposed, wet cunt. glancing down, you noticed just in time, how his cock twitched under his sweats. he didn’t seem to pay it any mind though. instead he was fully focussed on you. it was intoxicating really, the way he watched you. the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. lips you couldn’t help but want to kiss. so you did. you reached up to grab him by the neck and pulled him to you. his arms caged you in as you pressed your lips to his. as you moved together with fervor. with such an eagerness and hunger that sent your heart racing. 

once more, atsumu’s fingers found your core. you spread your legs for him further, when he pushed back in. letting your head fall back at the sensation, atsumu kissed your jaw. once. twice. then the side of your neck, tongue darting out to play across your skin as you adjusted to give him better access to your skin as well. it felt good. so good. when his fingers moved inside you, curling to find that one spot inside that made you moan a little louder.

once again settling on his side, atsumu pulled you tight to his body. your back now pressed against his front. his breath fanning across your neck as he let his mouth explore your skin. his firm chest against your shoulder blades. the hard planes of his stomach as your lower back slotted against him. oh god, and his cock pressed up against your ass, twitching where it was trapped between your bodies.

“how does it feel?” atsumu murmured against your skin. the sound of his voice making you buck, drawing a harsh hiss through his teeth. but he didn’t acknowledge it. instead he let his thumb swipe over your clit, while reaching deep inside. it felt good. it felt so good. but you didn’t know how to say the words. you didn’t think your voice would actually obey you if you tried. “feel good?” he asked, this time providing you with an easy way out.

“yeah,” you said, your voice coming out more like a breath than an actual word as you nodded.

“good,” he said, taking the lobe of your ear into his mouth, teeth nibbling softly as he gave it a little suck.

good, indeed. it was good. really good. you couldn’t imagine it even feeling this good, with your own fingers pushed inside your pussy. it wasn’t that you didn’t know what you were doing, or what you liked. but this. this was entirely different. the amount of attention he paid to you. the care with with he handled you, even as he picked up his pace, led along by the way your breathing hitched at his touch. his entire presence at your back. even more so, the soothing of that ache you’d felt all night. it was overwhelming, but it was so good. so good, it had your skin tingling and your legs tensing. his hips bucking when you pushed against him, making his cock grind against you. shit. 

“shit,” he cursed, taking your cheek in his free hand to turn your face towards him. your lips towards him. he didn’t have to tell you twice. actually, he didn’t even have to tell you once, because you instinctively pounced, capturing his lips with yours in a searing, bruising kiss. one sharp intake of breath later and he kissed you back, hard. his hips ground into yours, as if he couldn’t quite help himself as he curled his fingers, and circled your clit. when he coaxed your lips apart, you moaned into his mouth. it was wet, it was messy, it was so good. his tongue swiped inside and your legs tensed even harder as your eye screwed shut.

pleasure washed over you in waves, your walls clamping down around his fingers as you finally released. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his hands didn’t move. he kept working his fingers inside your cunt. kept kissing you just like that. kept holding you until you finally relaxed against the sheets. against him. that’s when he smiled down at you. an uncharacteristically soft smile that made you feel so safe.

pulling his fingers from your warmth, atsumu moved back, creating distance between the two of you, that safe little bubble threatening to burst. before you even had the mind to think it though, you grabbed his arm and looked him.

“don’t go,” you said. and the way his expression melted at your words.

“i won’t,” atsumu said. your atsumu. because he’d always been your atsumu, hadn’t he? you’d never expected to see the day where you’d utter those words, even inside your own mind. but where you were, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your atsumu. who did all this for you, without getting anything out of it himself.

“atsumu,” you mumbled, still feeling sluggish as you turned a little in the sheets, hands reaching for him, intention very clear.

“you don’t have to do that,” atsumu said, pushing your hand firmly off of him. as if he hadn’t just brought you cum on his fingers. as if his cock wasn’t straining, trapped inside his sweats. as if it hadn't been pressed against you this entire time, making you yearn to touch it.

“of course i–”

“princess,” he said, cutting you off, still keeping your hand at bay with his own. “you can hardly keep your eyes open. get some rest. i’ll take care of it,” he said, the insistence clear in his voice, as he scooted back and pulling the blanket over you.

“but–”

“sleep,” he interrupted once more, now pulling your blanketed frame to his chest. and he was right, you could barely keep your eyes open. as you drifted off, you felt him kissing the top of your head gingerly. and then, just as unconsciousness took over, you felt him pulling away. “i’ll be right back. promise.”

and just like atsumu’s earlier confession, you knew that he didn’t lie to you this time either.

[todofics]

Off The Market | 3/6 | Todoroki Shoto x Reader

♡ Summary: The Todoroki name had always borne a heavyweight amongst even society’s finest. When the family’s youngest son, and heir to the title, is forced into the marriage market, it’s no surprise that he quickly becomes the season’s most eligible bachelor—hoping to avoid marriage for at least one more season, who better than to circumvent the ton other than his long-time friend, you? 

♡ Content: regency au, fake-dating trope, aged-up characters, age gap (4 years), mutual pining, fem reader, fem pronouns, mature content in future chapters 

♡  Author notes: Fair warning, but I did not bother to reread this before publishing - something possessed me, and I sat down and banged this out in one sitting. Yeah. Sorry for the delay, but I've been working 6 days a week to make up for the fact that it's flu season (health care is not for the weak). Hopefully, this is still understandable enough for you to enjoy!

♡ 2.5k /est. 15k words (chapter 3/6)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Main Masterlist ♡  MHA Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡  Next

Shoto left minutes after your agreement with hushed promises to see you later that night, your face only slightly warmer and his with a sly grin gracing his captivating features. God, you could stare at that smile for hours - wait. You shook your head rapidly, lightly slapping your cheeks as you tried to calm your racing heart. Bad (Y/n)! This entire thing was supposed to renew the interest of others in you, not give you fluttery thoughts about your long-time friend.    

Fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down, the sound of your mother clearing her throat caused you to jump in your seat; right, she was in the room. In the midst of these new bubbling feelings rising in your stomach, you’d just… forgotten. It wasn’t like you to be so ditsy, but you weren't entirely used to having a chaperone for you and Shoto. It may have been the norm to have a chaperone for young girls and their potential suitors, but the two of you never had that kind of relationship, and your parents trusted you enough to be alone (at least as long as you were out of the public’s eye).

Until now, you had never even thought of him in that manner. Sure, you knew he was attractive - everyone did, and it wasn’t like you were blind - but the thought of anything more than that just never crossed your mind. Although you had been childhood friends, your families were simply leagues apart: you, a lowly untitled noble, and him, a future Duke. That type of pairing was uncommon (if not nearly impossible) in society.

Nevertheless, you knew your mother would have dozens of questions about the seemingly out-of-nowhere courtship; not once since your debut had Shoto shown an ounce of interest in you (at least not in that way). Indeed, it didn’t look good to anyone that suddenly, with an arranged marriage on the horizon, he was showing up to your estate on the premise of being a “caller.” Your mother was old, but she wasn’t dumb; anyone with half a brain could see the potential scheme the two of you were whipping up. Even if she was becoming desperate for you to finally make a match, this was fishy at best. Hopefully, the two of you seemed interested enough to put those potential rumors at ease; after all, everyone longs for a love based upon the foundation of friendship. With a raised brow, she finally ushered you over, drinking her tea calmly as if today was just another day. 

“Explain.”

You knew you could never lie to your mother, but you had to at least try. Continuing to fan yourself, the nervous sweat dripped down your forehead - was it hot in here, or was it just you? (It was just you; the full effect of the Summer heat had yet to hit, and the morning time was quite cool). “Explain what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to add to the picture of naivete. 

She sighed, taking yet another sip of her tea; your mother, thankfully, was never the pushy type. 

“I do not know what exactly the two of you are planning, but whatever it is, you need to be careful,” she urged, her tone serious as she looked at you suspiciously as if to gaze directly through you and into your mind. You gulped, flashing her a half-hearted grin in an attempt to reassure her. Typically, besides Shoto, your mother was your closest confidante, but perhaps it was best if she didn’t know about this. You already knew that if she did, she’d give you an earful and forbid you from seeing the boy (and that was a fate you’d rather not be forced into). 

“I promise you, mama, we aren’t planning anything,” you swore, setting down the fan and opting to raise your hands defensively. She continued to give you that pointed look, only humming in acknowledgment at the promise after a moment of pause. She knew you better than that, but pushing was never the answer with you (she couldn’t change your mind once it was made up anyway).

You knew she meant well with her concern, but you were a grown woman - seriously, you had been out in society now for four whole years - and you could make your own decisions. You were more than capable of protecting yourself.

With one last look over, she sent you away, commenting that you were dressed far too casually for a calling with the future Duke and to dress better for the ball tonight. With a groan, you merely nodded, allowing yourself to be whisked away by a maid to be adequately showered and dressed; even if your mother was suspicious, she still found public opinion far too important (at least to your taste).

Later that evening, dressed to the nines in one of your best gowns and fanciest pastes, you stood with your back pressed to the wall again, swirling a glass of champagne around as you stared aimlessly at the crowd. Although you’d typically be talking with the girls, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to join the conversation tonight, instead choosing to listen to the bits and pieces of gossip they seemed to be so entranced by. This time, however, appeared to be a bit different; although you’d have to really be looking for it to be obvious, you could feel a few glances being cast upon you. It seemed rumors surrounding you were already being spread. None of the other girls seemed to notice the rhythm of the conversation continuing without a lull. 

Although you weren’t quite sure what to expect from a “proper” courtship with Shoto (you hadn’t been seriously courted in years now - especially not from someone of high standing), you couldn’t help but look for the man in the crowd. Spotting him wasn’t difficult; his lean stature and peppermint hair made him stand out against just about anyone. It was still early into the ball, and he hadn’t quite made his way over yet, still greeting others of higher status as was expected. It wasn’t until about half an hour into the ball that he approached your little group as others in the area marveled at his presence. It wasn’t often that he found time to stop at the edges of the ballroom - especially not recently -  as he was often stuck directly in the center with his family, growing increasingly acquainted with the duties that came with being a future Duke.

“I hope I’m not imposing,” he started, his gaze resting on you as the girls seemed to move to allow room for him. “I was just going to steal (Y/n) for a moment,” Shoto finished, offering his hand to you expectantly. It was well-known that the two of you were childhood friends, so the event didn’t seem to stick out too much to your friends. That, however, didn't stop their apparent excitement.

“Not at all,” Mina chirped happily, the rest of the group nodding along. “Feel free to take her!” 

You offered him a weak smile, taking his hand as the girls seemed to giggle at the event (they never once believed you when you said you didn’t have feelings for him). “I hope your dance card isn’t full,” he mumbled, leading you to the center of the ballroom. Your eyes narrowed at the taller man; he definitely knew it wasn’t full. Was he daring to make a jest at you now after his promise? You hadn’t made an effort to dance in so long, nor had anyone made an effort to invite you. Maybe this was part of the reason why you had no prospects. 

“It isn’t,” you confirmed, grasping onto his hand a little tighter as the crowd grew denser toward the center of the room. Even if you had longed for someone to finally look at you, this was a bit much. Being with Shoto, in the center of the ballroom, you could feel the piercing stares of everyone in the room; all eyes were on you. 

To the strumming of orchestral instruments, Shoto wrapped his free hand around your waist, his other hand never releasing yours as he pulled you close - closer than you were ever accustomed to being. “I know,” he laughed teasingly, starting to sway rhythmically to the song in the background.

You puffed your cheeks out, pouting just a bit at him. Cute. “I knew it, you jerk,” you replied, following his lead; although you hadn’t danced in so long, the footwork was muscle memory. Maybe those dance lessons your mother forced on you weren’t so useless after all. 

“Just teasing,” Shoto chuckled, flashing you that boyish grin that seemed to be reserved for just you (at least you hoped so; you never truly saw him smiling as often with anyone as he did with you). You scoffed, allowing yourself to be dipped by the taller man as you moved together in perfect harmony.  It was as if you had done this dozens of times.

“And if anyone were to hear you?” you questioned, voice barely louder than the music. No one would hear, of course, but you still had to remind him that you were in public. 

“They wont.”

The song came to an end, but Shoto didn’t seem to want to separate, his grip on you tightening as you attempted to step away. “You want this to look real?” he asked, voice hushed as he continued to pull you along as the next song started. If anyone wasn’t looking before, they sure as hell were now. Shoto hadn’t willingly danced for more than one song in ages. Even Shoto, forced by his family, had only danced once throughout the entirety of the last season (and even then, that was with Fuyumi). With this, Shoto was making his intentions loud and clear for anyone to see - you were his. 

“People are staring,” you mumbled back, not doing much else to refuse. It was hard to refuse when he was looking at you like that. The intensity of his stare caused you to look downwards, focusing on the movement of your feet.

“Ignore them,” he said, momentarily releasing your hand to take your chin in hand as he directed your gaze back at him. He was quick to take your hand back into his, ignoring the way your (and many others) jaw dropped. “Just focus on me.” Rumors were definitely going to circulate after that. 

Although you were usually nervous about being the center of attention, the people staring seemed to fade into the background as you became entranced by Shoto’s eyes; something about being close to him was just so… relaxing. You could easily forget about all of your worries this way.

Shoto seemed to relax as well, letting his guard down as the two of you danced around for many more songs despite the whispers; although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he was most comfortable with you. Conversation with you was easy - simple. You didn’t flourish your words with the many niceties others in society seemed to; it was refreshing. In exchange for that bluntness, you got to see a side of Shoto he didn’t let others see - the teasing, fun, boyish side. People often forget that he, too, is a person - not just the future duke.

Throughout the various songs, your conversation with Shoto continued in that easy-going manner; you talked about everything and nothing at all. It had been so long since you had a chance to do this. To just… talk. 

“I missed this,” he interjected during a lull in your conversation, his eyes looking at you with a sort of fondness you weren’t familiar with (or did he always look at you this way? You hadn’t noticed). 

“What?” you asked, the aching of your feet starting to make itself known. You had to have been dancing with him for at least an hour now, and for someone who hadn’t danced in years, that in itself was a feat. 

“Talking to you like this,” Shoto finished his musing, a more gentle smile replacing that usual stoic expression on his face. Although the two of you were close, the last season had done a number on your friendship; his father, especially, had pushed him to focus on the family business, seeing his friendship with you as trivial. As of late, it felt like you could count the number of times you’d had an actual conversation with Shoto on one hand. 

You could feel that same fluttering feeling of butterflies starting again in your gut as your heart raced, “I missed it too.” God, he really knew how to make a girl’s heart race, didn’t he? A matching dumb grin colored your features.

“Hopefully, we can still talk like this after you find your future husband,” Shoto said, his expression almost wistful as he thought about the future. You were just such a good friend. Your smile immediately fell, reminding you what this plan was truly about. 

“Right,” you mumbled, gaze leaving his as you finally broke away from his grip, turning immediately to leave. That was enough for the night. Stupid Shoto and his damn bluntness. Stupid Shoto and his inability to understand anyone’s feelings but his own. “It’s getting late, and I’m tired. It’s about time I retire.”

He nodded in understanding, "Let me walk you out." You shook your head, opting to not respond verbally for fear that your voice would waver. "Then I'll see you tomorrow," Shoto resolved, staring at your retreating figure.

Hopefully, you’d turned around in time to not let him see the beginning of tears pricking your eyes. Hopefully, you were able to mask the hurt in your voice as you bid him goodbye. Hopefully, he couldn’t sense your urgency to get outside that suffocating ballroom.

Fuck. You had feelings for Shoto. Real, concrete, romantic feelings. 

Finishing out this deal would be more complicated than you thought. How could you possibly think you could avoid growing feelings for Shoto and his stupidly handsome face? For years, you knew Shoto had never intended to marry, so you had guarded your heart. You had been so careful. Now, here comes one little proposition, and you let your guard down. Stupid. This was so stupid. You were stupid.

Perhaps you should’ve set more ground rules and allowed for more distance between the two of you. It wasn’t like he was trying to make you fall for him. He was far too dense for that - far too dense to understand the effect that he had on people. He was clear from the beginning with you what he wanted, and it definitely wasn’t whatever this was. It wasn’t fair to him that you were upset at him over something he had no control over. 

You willed yourself to walk at a normal speed, your pace only increasing once you reached the outdoors. As you continued to run into cover of the evening, you felt like you could finally breathe. Wiping your tears, you took a deep breath and stepped into the carriage. He didn’t deserve this.

So, you steeled your resolve. Feelings be damned, you’d go through with this plan if it was the last thing you’d do.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist: @niineau 

ask to be added

[spidernuggets]

lil short somethin something, fluff w no plot

You groaned, coming into your bedroom in your shared apartment with Jason. You'd just come home from a long, long, LONG day at work, and all you need right now is at least one hour in your fiancé's big, warm arms.

He was sitting upright on the bead, leaning against the headboard, a book and pen in his hand, annotating his newly bought novel. He lifted his head upon hearing your grumpy tone, smiling at how even your grouchy antics were cute.

You threw your bag to the side, making yourself limp when falling onto the bed, your face buried in between his yummy pecs.

Jason chuckles, bookmarking his book, putting it onto the bedside desk before shifting himself to lie down, your face still buried in his chest as his fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair.

"Long day?" He asks, pecking the crown of your head. All you replied with was a tired murmur in agreement.

"I miss you," you mutter, finding his other hand to hold in yours. "Haven't had a day to ourselves in a while."

You had your long working hours with running your own business full hours every week while Jason had patrol most nights.

"Well," Jasom hummed. "You said you don't have work tomorrow? I can cancel tomorrow night's patrol. A whole day and night to ourselves."

Your head instantly shoots up at him. "For real?" You ask, fool of hope, the sparkle in your eyes making Jason's heart melt.

"For real," he replies, lifting your chin higher to place a loving peck to your lips.

"Ugh, can't wai-" You're interrupted by the chimes of your phone ringing. You lift to see the ID caller, your friend, calling you.

"Yeah?" You question once you answer.

"Hey, hun, we're going out tomorrow-"

You quickly cut them off. "Nah, not free tomorrow, maybe next time, byeee!" You rush, hanging up your cell.

Jason laughs. "What was that?"

You snuggle yourself even closer to him, kissing his chest. "This is the first day we're going to spend together in a long while! I am not passing up the chance." You pout.

Jason's arm wraps around your torso. "Wouldn't pass it either, sugar," he says, rubbing small patterns with his thumb against the small of your back.

[insomniactic-daydream]

Comfortable- Bakugo X Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Pt.4)

<- (Previous Pt.3)

Summary: Endeavor has a soft spot for his younger daughter. Y/n notices how Bakugo has gotten more comfortable (and annoying) around her. However, she doesn't seem to mind.

The next morning came, and you began packing your bags of tools and as well as the gauntlets that were nearly completely. All that was really left were to adjust some things with Bakugo's arm measurements. Though, that's still required a large amount of your tools.

Sleeping last night was hard. Loving your family is hard. Everyone was raised differently besides Natsuo and Fuyumi, but even they see the situation differently. It was hard to be in agreement with each other regarding parents when all of you coped with trauma differently.

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts as well as muted the noise of cooking pans in the kitchen for morning breakfast. You check the caller and roll your eyes before picking it up.

"You know it's barely 9 in the morning, right? Let me get some food in before slaving me away for your gauntlets. I'm pretty sure this is against child labor laws, Mr. Future Number One. " You say sarcastically, remembering all the time he's talked a earful of being the best during you making his support items.

For a man that says he can't be bothered to deal with 'extras', he sure likes taking up your space. But you label it as he only wants to learn and see how to modify his gauntlets whenever he needed to in the future.

"You're a dumbass. I was calling your forgetful ass to remind you. Make sure you ask your old man or someone before coming here. I don't need a stowaway." He grumbles. Although he didn't know an argument went on last night, you did text him pretty late. Sounding like a last minute plan rather than a though out one, which was 100% true.

"Don't get your peg leg in a twist, Captain. I was going to ask this morning. I'm confident they'll say yes, considering this is worth my grade." You retort back while placing your support informarion journal with your other things you'll be taking.

"Whatever loser, just don't keep me waiting for your ass too long." He says in a huff.

"Relax, you'll see me soon enough. God you're so obsessed with me." You say chuckling to yourself as you open the door out to your room.

"AS IF YOU LITTLE SH-" was all you heard before hanging up the phone. He knows better to call again just to cuss you out. You'll just ignore those calls too.

You walk into the kitchen seeing Fuyumi at work on the stove while your father and Shoto sit in uncomfortable silence.

"Good Morning Y/n, hope you had a good rest. I didn't see you at the table last night. Fuyumi said you were feeling tired, " Endeavor says to you. Fuyumi exchange glances with Shoto. Hiding the truth at what really went down.

"Morning, Dad. Apologies, I was feeling slumped last night." You lie before sitting down in the seat beside him.

Your dad is the Devil's incarnate, at least that's what most of your family says; and you happen to be his favorite child. Maybe in his mind, maybe treating you right would make up for giving up on Touya.

However, that makes situations like these difficult. You know that throwing your siblings under the bus for what really happened last night would result in just a bigger argument, with your father to your defense. Respecting your siblings' decisions and opinions whether you agree with it or not, you say nothing about the incident to your father.

After you all say thanks for the food and begin eating, you clear your throat to speak, gaining the attention of the table.

"So I'm going to a friend's house to finish their support item for class. I was wondering if I could have the chauffeur to take me if it's not too much of a hassle." You say already grabbing your plate to wash and put away.

"Very well. We can drop you off on the way to the agency. Prepare your things. We are leaving soon as finish." Endeavor asks.

"Yes, sir." You say before heading down the hall to go grab your things.

Soon after, you're out the door and enjoying a silent car ride to Bakugo's home.

"Try not to stay too long. Like the rest of us, Mr. Kurumada also has to go home at the end of the day. I wouldn't mind picking you up myself, but be mindful of others' time." Endeavor says before helping you gather your things.

"I know, Dad. I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome either. I'll try and keep the time in mind. Thank you for driving me here." You say kindly also giving a wave to your dad's driver too.

"Very well. I can help you carry your things to the door if yo-" your father says before you interupt him.

"I'm okay, Dad, no need to worry." You smile before picking up all your things and walking to Bakugo's door. He doesn't argue and heads back to the car.

Fragile. As if you might crack from the slightest touch. Touya death certainly did a number on how he treats you.

Tossing thoughts aside, you knock three times before the door opens. "Took you long enough, nerd."

"Shut up and help me. You're gauntlets weigh a ton." You say before shoving him his gear. And stepping inside the home.

"Wow this place is nice. Much more modern than where I live." You say putting your shoes down and trading them for house quest slippers. You observe all the family photos, taking in the faces of the annoying blondes parents.

You see a picture of him as a baby frowning up at his smiling parents. You'd imagined what it would be like to see such smiles on yours.

"My parents are designers. My old hag does clothes, my old man houses. Both of them got called in today, but they should be home later, " He grumbles as he lifts your stuff from the floor. His tone was much more relaxed than his voice at school.

"You'd think you would dress nicer considering your parents tatse." You smirk up at his carnelian eyes now rolling at your remark.

"I dress perfectly fine, you lump of coal. Now stop analyzing my house and let's get you to work." He says before grabbing your wrist and walking to the backyard. Still carrying your things with his other hand.

"Such a good host you are." You deadpan and drag your wieght behind him.

He sure has gotten comfortable grabbing and dragging you around, considering he recoiled at the thought of shaking your hand in the beginning.

You pay it no mind.

Although the fucker can be annoying at times, he can be fun to hang around when he isn't screaming.

He's not half bad.

(Next Part 5) ->

Kind of another filler chapter about sharing the Y/n' s family dynamics.

But trust, there will be more Y/n and Bakugo romance next chapter 🫡

Tag List: @queenriki7 @bumblebeebutter @mochimommy2002 @s3mis3m1

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[millerscoffee]

dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART TWO.

Read part 1 here.

Read part 3 here

Gojo Satoru x Fem! reader.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this part, in the next parts things will get more exciting and heated so stay updated..

warnings: At some point this story will contain SMUT parts.

words count: 1127.

You awoke to a pounding headache, your phone ringing none stop. You had trouble sleeping at night, the house was spacious and it felt really cold and empty.

"Shit, it's already 10 am," you muttered upon realizing the time.

Picking up the phone, you anticipated the caller is your nosy cousin.

"Morning," you greeted, met with her enthusiastic response. "Everything okay? Why'd you call?"

"Come on, spill! Did the curse break?" she asked.

With a sigh, you knew this was none of her fucking business.

"No. You know it takes time, right? It's gradual."

"Ah, how was it, then?" she inquired.

"How was what?" you raised an eyebrow, already prepared for her persistent questioning.

“Having sex with the famous Gojo Satoru?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced. Should you lie? He didn't touch you he hadn't even stayed the night.

"G-good," you lied, "Gotta go now," you added, ending the call with a flush on your face.

You'd always fantasized about your first time, picturing a softly lit bedroom, under the touch of your lover, while making love passionately. But, all those dreams shattered the moment you married Satoru. Neither of you had any intention in touching each other.

You stretched out of bed to prepare breakfast "Am I gonna live like this forever?”

•At Jujutsu High•

"Oh, Gojo-sensei! What brings you here?" asked Yuji.

"Huh? Teaching!" Gojo replied, putting his blindfold on.

"But you just got married," Yuji remarked.

Gojo patted Yuji's head and smiled, "Then who's going to teach my precious students if I'm not here?"

"Oh, about that, Principal Yaga said Mei Mei and Utahime-sensei will handle it."

"Hah? No!"

"Bothered, Gojo Satoru?" Mei Mei said in a seductive tone as she approached.

"Shouldn't you be next to your wife? Snuggling?" she teased.

"And let you teach my students? Oh no."

"Utahime, you're here! See, Gojo left his wife all alone in bed just to teach."

"I give it to you, Gojo. You're committed to teaching," joked Utahime.

"Satoru," said Principal Yaga, appearing in the classroom.

"Been on the phone with your wife," he added.

"Huh, why?" questioned Satoru.

"Well, you're a married couple, and teaching will consume all your time. So, she'll start teaching here as well, and both of you can spend time together," he explained.

Satoru froze but maintained a blank, poker face.

"She doesn't even have cursed energy. What do you expect her to teach? Rocket science?"

“Huh he doesn't want his wife here?” whispered Utahime.

“I mean you know both of them were forced into this, bet he didn't even fuck her” said Mei Mei in her usual amused tone.

"I know, but she's skilled in martial arts and weapon use. She'll excel at training your students."

"Did she accept your offer?" Satoru asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, she was happy about it. She said she'll be here in an hour."

“So should be we leave, since Gojo is here?” Asked Utahime.

“Leave? hah we've come all the way just to leave” Replied Mei Mei “also it's a great opportunity to meet your wife, Gojo.. and celebrate”

“Celebrate?” asked Megumi.

“Yeah your step mom will start working here, she deserves a good welcoming”

“Quite that Mei Mei, dont make a buzz out of it” said Gojo in an annoyed tone.

“come on, Gojo.. Don't spoil the fun.. don't you think your lovely wife is deserving of a celebration ”

• Time Skip •

Y/n's Pov

It was my first time at Jujutsu High, unlike my siblings, cousins, and now husband. I've always been at home, locked away because my family feared that curses might harm me and I won't be able to defend myself. So, I trained at home, learning martial arts and weapon use as my only means of self-defense.

Now, stepping in as a teacher, life indeed full of surprises.

End Of Pov

As you walked inside, someone snatched you into an empty corner.

"What the hell do you think you're doing y/n?" asked Gojo, placing his giant hand on your mouth.

You pushed it away, frowning "Huh?" you raised an eyebrow.

"You'll go to Principal Yaga now, apologize, and tell him that you changed your mind and rejected his offer."

"And who do you think you are to order me around?" you fought back.

"You have no business here, y/n. You're making this more complicated for both of us."

"So, you expect me to be locked in your house forever? Sleeping, eating, and looking out the window?"

"Yes, but not forever, its until you get rid of that curse, and then we'll divorce."

"You're insane. Get out of my way," you said, walking past him but he grabbed your forearm, pulling you closer, his face a few inches away from yours, you could feel his hot breath.

"You're making a mistake."

"Don't worry. I'm here to teach, not to chased after you" you spat back, freeing yourself and leaving him standing there.

....

..

“SURPRISE” everyone screamed their lungs out the moment you stepped into the school's common room.

New faces, you only recognized Principal Yaga's face since he was invited to your wedding.

“Hello y/n sensei!! I'm Itadori Yuji, This is Fushiguro and this is Kugisaki.. we'll be your students” he said in a cheerful tone, giving you a genuine contagious smile.

You smile back, “nice to meet you Itadori-kun” .

“Y/N” started Mei Mei “Congrats for this post, and congrats for your wedding as well” she smiled giving you a hug.

“we heard a lot about you” added Utahime hugging you as well.

Gojo finally joined you, silently leaning against the door frame, observing as you interacted with his students and collegues.

“GOJO!! this beauty deserves a honey moon, can't believe you. You know teaching can wait” Mocked Mei Mei trying to embarrass you.

“Yeah true, newly wed couples should have other things to do instead of teaching” Teased Utahime, trying to offend both of you.

As he began to speak, you cut him off, "Nah, don't worry about us. We already talked and decided to postpone our honeymoon," you said, smiling, fully aware of their intentions.

Gojo approached, wrapping his strong arms around you. "Yeah, y/n and I did talk things out," he stated, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "I'll let this slip once. Don't get comfortable, acting like a real wife."

"You're the one clinging to me right now by the way" you retorted, prompting him to move away.

"Do you see that, Utahime? Not even a spark of love or respect between them," smirked Mei Mei.

Gojo's Pov

Is that so, y/n? Trying to embarrass me and act like a real wife now. I'll need to put you in your place, and I think Utahime and Mei Mei might be useful this time...another woman will definitely push you away.

End of Pov

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