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hanginginthevoid · 2 days ago

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Privilege of Flight

pairing: bob reynolds x fem!powered!reader

summary: you can fly. valentina needs a flying avenger. after a too good to be true deal, you end up an avenger. because you don’t want 5 people riding you into the sun, you make it a priority to teach bob how to fly so he can share the burden.

a/n: Takes a bit to get to the part with bob but please stick w me, I like a lotta meat on my stories. i’m still easing back into writing and figuring out bob’s character, but im happy w this. reader has cosmic powers derived from the stars!!

warnings: ooc bob? i can’t think of anything else

word count: 4.2k

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine has been on your ass recently. She's calling as close to nonstop as possible. She's found your instagram, tiktok, and even your pinterest, and messaged you on all three.

In what world would she think this would attract you to picking up the phone?

In all honesty, you don’t have anything against her. Everybody has to get by in this world, doesn’t mean people are gonna take the hard way of being a good person. But if she’s trying to get you to join the dime store avengers, it’s not going to happen.

It’s your own fault honestly. A fight you were trying to wrap up got into the public eye, and of course the civilians took to pulling out their phones to record instead of fleeing the scene. Next thing you knew, your face was plastered all over the news, ecstatic to have such a powerful being defending the people. But who are you? Who are you affiliated with? And what really are your motives? That’s what really matters to the people.

After that, you've been trying to lie low. Clearly it doesn’t matter though, Valentina wants you and it's only a matter of time before she comes knocking on your crappy apartment door. Hopefully that fateful night isn’t tonight; tonight it's time to recharge.

The smog of the city always blocks the shine from the stars and if it's not the smog it’s humans trying to outshine the stars with their artificial lights. It's unfortunate, but whenever you need to recharge you get plenty of time to yourself and fresh air.

After about two hours of driving, and another 17 calls from Valentina, it’s time to pull over to the side of the road. You turn off your phone before anything else, and then you pop the trunk, and turn the car itself off. Snagging the fluffy blanket that you keep in your car for nights just like these, you close the trunk and lay the blanket over the roof of the car. Then you drape yourself over it, getting as comfortable as one can on top of a car, then you let the shine absorb into every available limb, recharging the internal battery that your powers stem from.

The chill of the night and the comfort that you feel from being in your element lulls you into a peaceful, deep sleep.

–

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when you get up. Well actually. You can, you just don’t want to.

“Ms.L/n. Or would you prefer Starling? Well either way, funny running into you here.”

After thoroughly assessing her, you respond, “Valentina.”

“You do know the respectful thing to do is to respond when someone reaches out.”

Valentina just has this way of speaking. It’s so disrespectful, and undermining, but she covers it with this light tone to make it seem not all that bad.

“When someone takes the stalker approach, I don’t think it's necessary to respond.” At this point, you’ve gotten off the roof of your car and started folding your blanket.

“Well, since you forced me all the way out here just to have a conversation, why don't we at least get coffee? Wouldn’t you like that?”

And that's how you ended up in some diner that only sees truckers and elderly couples who have been coming for years, with Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

You get a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and what's considered the gold standard of diner coffee, while Valentina makes her assistant make her some specialized coffee, and you can just smell the difference in the way the beans were roasted.

“So. You’ve taken the internet by storm.”

“Not intentionally.”

“Intentional or not! You’ve got all the people on your side. They’re fascinated with you. Y’know I need that.”

“Need what exactly?” You’re eying her suspiciously now, still sipping your coffee.

“I need someone that the people love.” Valentina starts waving her hands around to try and add to the appeal. “Someone who can be the real face of my New Avengers.”

You sigh, it just doesn’t make sense, “You have plenty of people on that team, Valentina. I don’t see wh-”

“All of them are losers. Three super soldiers who could barely lift a rock, one girl who can phase through things, and another who’s got nothing special going on for her. I need a really heavy hitter, and I want it to be you.”

“And what would I get from this?”

“Well a solid paycheck for starters. Top of the line technology. A fantastic suit, tailored perfectly to your capabilities. Really, you’d be stupid not to accept.”

After dousing your last bite in syrup, you swirl it around a bit, then lift the fork to your lips and take a methodical bite. Making sure to take plenty of time chewing, then a long last sip of coffee, you lick your lips before responding, “I want floor length windows in my room. And a signing bonus of 100k.”

“Done and done. Pack up that raggedy apartment of yours and we will be seeing you Monday morning bright and early at the tower to get you all settled in!” Valentina claps her hands together before sliding out of the booth and leaving you behind to contemplate the weight of your decision.

The weight lifts when you get the notification of a hefty deposit into your account.

–

Valentina texted you that you would not need any furniture, and she would be supplying you with the most comfortable bedroom set. So you’re traveling light, only a couple of duffle bags along with a backpack. The elevator takes a surprisingly short period of time to get you to the top floor, however when it opens you just want it to go straight back down.

Bucky Barnes, John Walker, Yelena Belova, and some guy with shaggy hair are all looking at you with curiosity.

“So Val really went and got us a flier. I see how it is, tired of all the punching and shooting.” Yelena sizes you up as she speaks, it feels like she's looking into your soul. “Well, c’mon then. I’ll show you your new super amazing living arrangement.”

As you’re walking away you hear the Red Guardian shouting, “YES! Now we can ride the new girl into the sun since Bob will not comply!”

After Yelena’s delivered you to your room, she gives you a basic rundown of what all the buttons do and what appliances you have access to straight from your room. After that, she tries to leave and give you some time to unpack, and settle in, but you stop her.

“What did that guy mean by ‘ride the new girl into the sun’?”

“Alexi is… He doesn’t know when to speak, when to shut up, y’know? Your powers as a whole are going to be a very useful addition to the team. But sometimes we need a faster response to issues, and a flier is really useful for that. We tried helping Bob along with learning how to fly, but y’know we kind of can’t do that without knowing how to ourselves.”

You shift from side to side while processing this information. “Well, I could try? I already know the basics and then you guys don't have to ride me at all.”

“I’ll let Bob know, let me know if you need anything.” And then the door is shut and you’re left to your thoughts.

‘Ride you into the sun’ is just a crazy thing to say. Even if you need a fast response, you’d rather do it yourself. You start putting things into drawers, making the bed, and placing a few trinkets around the room to try and make it feel more like home.

You probably should get some team bonding in. They all already know each other, you’re fresh meat. And it’d be really good to actually know everyone a little bit in case of a threat or a routine mission pop up. Instead you fidget with all the gadgets that come with your room until the sun starts to set. You’ll give it to Valentina, she gave you a great room to watch the sunset from. Probably the worst one for your powers but she wouldn’t care to know that.

–

You’ve been at the tower for just under two weeks, and every time you try to talk with Bob he curves you. Half of the time you’re just trying to get to know him! Any sort of acknowledgement of his existence leads to him finding the closest exit, person, or activity that he can find just to avoid a conversation.

The clock has barely struck 4 in the morning when you see him. Bob is sitting on the couch, lamp to his left switched on to the softest setting, and a blanket around his shoulders. He’s doing something with his hands, but from this angle you can’t tell what it is.

You clear your throat so that you don’t startle him. Bob flinches a bit anyway, before looking up at you.

“Oh hey.. I didn’t think anyone else was up, sorry.” His hands never stopped fidgeting with the object in his lap.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I'm more of a night person anyway.” Inching forward, you make a move towards the windows, basking in the last bits of starlight.

“Because of your powers.. Right?” Bob’s turned himself sideways, you think it's to get a better look at you without making it so obvious.

“Mhm, the stars help me to do a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

Maybe Bob is just a night person. “I can shoot blasts of cosmic energy, either singular blasts or like a pulse of them. I could move people or buildings with my mind. All of my senses are heightened,” You turn to face him instead of the skyline, “as well as my speed and strength.”

You’ve faded now, and Bob’s eyes go wide, “ I can go into the shadows and pop out wherever I please as long as the shadows connect.”

Now you’re in front of him on the couch, “And.. I can fly.”

“That’s.. A lot. You can do all of that from the stars?”

“Yup. Some scientists I worked with have a theory that I could even control the stars if I wanted. Like waking them up, or maneuvering them into different spots in the solar system.”

“That's awesome.” Bob went back to fidgeting with his rubix cube, now that you’ve got a clear view of it, it's easily identifiable.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

He’s solving the rubix cube faster and faster. Maybe you shouldn’t push, but you’ve been waiting for this chance for a while now, eager to help out the team. “Do you have any powers?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about it. The most recent ‘New York incident’? All me.”

“Sooo, you can fly too then?”

“Not me technically. The other guy.”

“You wanna fly?” Bob looks up at that, pausing his ministrations.

“It’s dangerous if I use my powers.”

You’re sat criss-cross, and now levitating just a bit above the couch you remind him, “I just said I could awaken a star if I really wanted to, I think you should try with me.”

“You said it was a theory.”

“Yeah, but it’d be nice to not have to walk all around this giant building right?” The way your eyes are shining in the moonlight, the tiredness behind them, and the earnest look in the downturned smile you’re wearing, wears him down to the point of agreeing with a shy nod.

–

You and Bob don’t end up in the training room for three more days. The first day, Bob was too tired, when you went to ask if he wanted to train you found him napping. Guess you were wrong in assuming he was a night person. The second day there was an official Avengers event to welcome her most recent edition to the team, and after being paraded around all day, you no longer felt up to conversing. But finally on the third day you two were both well rested and prepared to conquer flight.

“Sorry.. Can you just explain it one more time?” Bob’s shaking his hands out, trying to get his anxiety out you’d guess.

Looking into his eyes you remind him, “It's fine, you don’t need to apologize for anything, Bob.” Then moving to grab his hands and splay his fingers out with his palms facing down you speak slowly, “For me, I just think about where I want to go. In most cases it's up, having your hands like this might help with the mental idea of going up since a lot of older superheroes used this move to propel themselves in any direction.”

Then you start to fly, maybe it’d be considered floating since you’re just a couple of inches off the ground, but everyone has to start somewhere. Bob’s concentrating, you can tell from the way he’s straining his fingers, and using his shoulders to press his arms tightly to his body.

“Remember to relax. Think about things that make you happy. Things that make you forget, even for a second, all the bad things.”

A couple of minutes pass by, but then Bob’s feet are off the ground. Less than yours are, but they’re not touching the ground and that’s all that matters.

You rest a hand on Bob’s shoulder as a simple way to trigger him into opening his eyes. When he does he’s looking above your head again, a look of confusion flashes across his face, then his eyes shoot downard.

“Im… Doing it?”

“Yes,” You stifle a laugh at his astonishment, “You’re doing it Bob!”

You grab his hands and give the two of you a little spin, showing him that he really is flying. The two of you are grinning and giggling like two kids who just got away with nabbing the candy from its hiding spot.

The joy is short lived though. In an instant Bob's feet are back on the ground, and since your hands are still grasping his, he brings you down a bit with him.

“Damn. Sorry. Didn’t mean to drag you like that.”

Even though his mood seemed to dampen, you’re still smiling from ear to ear, “All good. You did great, Bob! We can work on getting you higher and able to fly for longer tomorrow if you’d like?”

But instead of accepting your offer, Bob declines, centering himself again and re-closing his eyes; he lifts himself off the floor again. “So I just.. think about going up and it happens?”

“Sort of! Think about moving every part of yourself towards the ceiling. First your head, then your arms, and legs”

The idea was for him to slowly gravitate toward the ceiling, lightly bumping his head on it in the worst case. Instead, Bob shoots upwards and crashes into the ceiling, leaving a decent size dent in it.

“Ow, ow, ow. Not like that I’m guessing?” He’s got flakes of drywall in his hair so you reach up and ruffle his already messy hair, shaking the drywall free. When you’re done you pat it down to flatten and reshape it again, but you miss the way that Bob is staring at you before you back away.

You huff out a laugh, “No, not like that. Try and keep it in the back of your mind to take every movement slow. I’ve got all the time in the world, unless you’ve got somewhere to be there’s no need to rush.”

His head shakes left to right, negating the fact that he has anywhere else to be. And the two of you go straight back to focusing on the basics of getting up in the air and elevating yourself once you’re airborne. Its like this for hours, until Walker comes to get you both, reminding you how important nutrition is.

–

After a few weeks of Bob and you practicing his flight in the training room, it’s time to take his skills into the outside world. Albeit, he is nervous for the scenario that his powers go haywire in the outdoors, Yelena’s told him not to worry, he hasn’t had a void scare in his entire time training with you anyway.

The two of you are on the roof of the Avengers tower. It puts you in an immediate situation where you need to engage in flight, unless your preference is to plummet to the ground. The moon is shining, but at this height and total lack of light, nobody should notice you and Bob gliding through the sky.

“Where do you want to go?”

Bob looks up at you, a slight furrow to his brow, “Hm? I thought you decided where we would go already.”

“Nope! Your first time flying outside, you get to pick.”

“I’m not really sure. Can you think of a nice spot?”

You could take him out of the city, flying makes for a fast trip. But that would be more for you than him, Bob probably doesn’t care about the stars all that much. Plus you can’t see the beauty of nature when it's dark out anyway.

“Why don’t we just go up? The lights of the city make for a nice view when you get high enough.”

Bob sounds disappointed when he speaks, “Oh. Yeah that's - that’s fine.”

“Did you secretly have something else in mind?” You’re teasing him, hoping he gives you a bit of insight into his inner thoughts.

“Well, uh. The stars are your thing, and since it's dark out I thought we’d be doing something to see them better. But it's fine! We don’t have to, I’m sure the city is beautiful just like you said.” Bob raised his hands up in defense, waving them around a bit. You just nod, before lifting off the ground and inching away, silently inviting him to join you.

You bring him to Stokes State Forest, it's not too far from the city but it's far enough that the view you have of the stars is just right. Easily, you flip onto your back, allowing you to look at nothing else but them. Next to you, Bob fumbles with getting onto his back.

Without turning your head you remind him, “It’s like floating, put most of your weight into your waist and balance it there.” Then he’s got it. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you right yourself.

“Show me your skills Bob! I didn’t drag you all the way out here for nothing.”

Bob rights himself, much more clumsy than you did, having to throw his hands out in an attempt to steady himself. Then he’s zooming around you, doing flips and twisting around himself. He dips down way below, and grabs a handful of water from the lake. Somehow most of the water sticks in his hand and makes it all the way up to you, just for him to splash you with it.

You start moving with him, twisting and twirling around him in a similar sense. You hear Bob laughing, a real true laugh, before jetting off.

The close proximity you two have been sharing recently has made you think. Bob is kind, and caring, and he really loves his team. Over anyone they’re his family, his most important people. Despite the challenges he faces with his powers, Bob still made an effort to learn to control his ability to fly. Yeah, maybe you have a silly little girl crush on him. It’ll pass, most do.

He catches up to you, grabs your arms and pulls you into his chest while spinning you around. “You’re going really fast. Am I that big of an eyesore?”

So he’s got jokes. Two can play at that, “Mhm, the biggest actually. You make me come here, with my one true love, and expect me to stick around you?”

Bob laughs along with you before falling back to resume floating on his back. He lets you go from his hug but he still has a grip on your hand to keep you close, it makes your heart flutter.

You turn your head, hoping to make eye contact with the deep blues you’ve gotten used to seeing, “Wanna see something cool?”

Bob nods, not sure what you could be referring to. Reaching your left arm out, as to not stop holding Bob's hand, you focus on drawing out the raw strength that each and every star in your view has to offer. You’ve practiced this a handful of times since the first time Bob mentioned it just being a theory, so you can hold it for about 30 seconds now. And for those 30 seconds, the sky is brighter than it's ever been, each star glows brighter than ever, their very slight hues all the more visible like this. Then it's over.

You look over at Bob but he’s already looking over at you. “Wasn’t it beautiful?”

He’s nodding along, “Yeah.. The most beautiful.” You missed that he only looked at the stars for a few seconds, and spent the rest of the time looking at you. He can’t believe how patient you’ve been with him. How much faith you had in him from the very beginning. He hopes after this you won’t stop giving him so much attention, that he can still be in your orbit.

Walker told him to make a move, that you wouldn’t reject him. But it's Walker we’re talking about, and he’s not exactly the person Bob would want to take advice from even if it wasn't on romance. He’s only thinking about it because Bucky and Ava were in the vicinity too, and they didn’t tell him not to believe Walker.

He’s mentioned it to Yelena too. He trusts her the most, and she said it’d be fine. She said even if you said no, that you wouldn’t shut him out or make it weird. But how is Yelena supposed to know that? She met you at the same time that Bob met you, and even he isn’t sure how you’d react.

“Hey, Bob?” You aren’t looking at him. Your voice is just above a whisper, like you didn’t really want him to hear you, but the words clawed their way out of your throat anyways.

“Yeah?” He’s staring at your side profile now. You must have thought it was odd to be sitting here in silence.

“I think- I think I like you.”

“I’d hope you liked my personality. You’ve only been stuck helping me with my powers for-”

“No. Not like your personality.” You turn your head to face his, “Like you, Bob. All of you. The way you take care of everyone in the tower, in the best way you can. The way despite your fears, you learned to master a part of your powers. How when none of the medics are available, you patch up the team, and you make sure to make whoever is the most beat up, their favorite meal. The way that you leave your comfortable spot on the couch to hang out with me near the window when we’re both up during the middle of the night.”

During your rant you drifted from laying on your back to hovering upright, the severity of your statement weighing on you. Bob follows shortly after, not wanting you to feel that he wasn’t taking your confession seriously.

“I - uh. Didn’t think you paid attention to all of that.” He’s blushing and avoiding eye contact. You actually liked him?

“Of course I did. Out of everyone on the team, I’m closest to you. I seek you out in every room I enter. I look for you before heading to the infirmary after a mission. I make hot chocolate now instead of coffee, just so I have an excuse to bring you some too!”

You’re no longer holding eye contact, looking at everything but him. The weight of your emotions and the fear of rejection is too much to bear, especially when you know you’re gonna see the look of pity in Bob’s eyes. But since you’re not looking at him, you don’t see the way Bob wets his lips before inching closer. His left hand reaches forward and grabs your right, and his right hand reaches up to move at pushing some hair behind your ear.

As you look back at him, Bob’s hand moves to cradle your face. His thumb caressing your cheekbone as he speaks, “I like you too. Probably a little bit more than that but who cares.” His eyes go from your eyes to your lips, “I haven’t done this in a while, I’d really like to kiss you though.”

So you lean forward and kiss him. Both of your lips are slightly windburned, but that doesn’t take away from the softness of Bob’s lips, or the warmth that blooms in your chest from having your feelings be reciprocated. Unbeknownst to the two of you, the stars are glowing bright again.

It's nice, you think, having your relationship be started in this way. No prying eyes, no cameras, no whispers through the vents about what the two of you are doing. When you get back to the tower it’ll be a different story, everyone is gonna be able to tell that there was a shift in your relationship, and the questions will be endless. That’s a problem for when the sun rises though.

Speaking of the sun, you achieved your goal, Alexi can ride Bob into the sun instead of you.

Likes/comments/reblogs are super duper appreciated <3

#bob reynolds imagine #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds #robert reynolds imagine #robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #x reader #female reader #marvel x reader #thunderbolts x reader

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mee30p · 3 days ago

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Don’t cry

a/n: I used @dixondisease inspo post I’ll link it here go check out them please they are an amazing inspo writer and I hope i did it justice <3

☽ summary: Daryl is frustrated from earlier events in the day when he says something he shouldn’t of and makes you cry.

☽ Warnings: swearing, calling reader names, crying

☽ Word count: short. I’m going to be so honest idk how many words maybe 0.5k?

You didn’t mean to pry, you knew you shouldn’t have Daryl becomes explosive when overwhelmed but you wanted to know what was up his ass today. This resulted in you and Daryl being in an argument again. The fourth one today and it’s only 12:30 PM, Daryl’s had a stick up his ass all day today and it’s pissing you off.

“Come on D, just tell me what’s got you so pissed off?” Your voice is relativity calm, not accusing just worried and slightly tight as you approach him and place an innocent worried hand on his arm his back facing you. That’s when Daryl says something really stupid.

“Would you just fuck off woman? I don’t need your naggin’ ass pissin’ me off more than I already am!” Daryl yells as he pulls you off his arm and spins around to look at you. As soon as he said it he regretted it. Fuck he’s stupid. But he is just so overwhelmed, the new addition to the prison decided it was a good idea to leave the gate open resulting in a dozen walkers getting into the prison field leaving Daryl to clean it up.

His words hit you like a semi-truck, God you knew you were sensitive it wasn’t a secret to anyone. You cried yesterday over a joke someone made about your hair but this was different Daryl never said stuff like this to you. Before you could stop yourself tears well in your eyes and a small choked sob escapes your mouth. You turn your back to Daryl as you clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs coming from you as your shoulders shake and tears run down your face.

Regretting he even uttered a word in the first place Daryl rushes over enveloping his arms around you m from behind while you sob uncontrollably. trying to reverse his doing with soft whispers and peppered kisses on the back and side-of your head. “fuck m’ sorry baby don’t cry… please don’t cry” but it’s far too late you’re already sobbing at his biting words.

“Fuck… shit…. No baby don’t cry please… I didn’t mean it I promise” Daryl whispers as he panickyly kisses everywhere he can reach as he hugs you. Daryl then lets go of you to spin you around making you face him. God. You feel like a total cry baby, you’ve killed people before without shedding a tear but just a few mean words from Daryl you knew he didn��t mean and you’re a mess. Daryl pulls you into his chest his hands threading through your hair and he presses more desperate kisses to your face and head. “I know baby… I know I’m a dick.. I didn’t mean it… I love you” Daryl panics.

Your crying slows down and you sniffles wiping your nose on your winter coat before looking up at your man. You don’t say anything as you look up at the hunter with teary red swollen eyes you don’t need to. He knows he messed up big time.

“M’ sorry Darlin’ didn’t mean it… I promise I love you” Daryl says as he looks down at you pressing a long kiss to your lips.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion smut #i love daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader

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usagiarchive · 17 hours ago

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marriage of (in)convenience — mydei x reader

I. RECKONING. / masterlist

sypnosis. [ 1.1k words ] arranged marriage au. — stuck in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of castrum kremnos, you both try to find a way to make the arrangement a lot more hell for the people who forced the two of you into this, and maybe you end up working together better than you thought.

usagi's note: hi!! currently sick so i got to take time off of school and posted this, it's short now but istg it'll get longer towards the end. enjoy mydei lvrs!

“This is absurd! I will not agree to such a thing!” you raise your voice as your father, the King, finishes telling you his ‘surprise’.

(“My dearest daughter,” he starts, “I am so proud to tell you, that you shall have the honor of being married to the current Prince of Castrum Kremnos, Mydeimos!” he says as if it’s something you’d be ecstatic at.

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

“What?”

He beams at you and you have to stop yourself from making a face.

“Yes! Oh, how I’ve closed the agreement of a lifetime! Oh, our people will absolutely flourish!” he exclaims.

You look at your mother for.. Anything, actually… an explanation, help, something! But she all but looks away.

So you knit your eyebrows and say your words clearly.)

Your mother, the Queen, sighs. She knew. All this time she knew, and she was the one to suggest such a thing in the first place, or so your father says.

She slammed her hands on the table, “You are to be wed to strengthen our bonds with the Kremnoans and that is final.”

Your siblings and your father stood still in shock and fear, but you? Ever your mother's daughter, you lifted your chin and glared at her. Your father quivered slightly but only watched as your mother held your glare back. After moments where she would not budge, neither of you would, you lift your chin and look away.

“Fine.” you spit out and walked out of the room.

You didn’t miss the sigh of relief your family let out as you did. To be perfectly honest, no one could fault you for the reaction, especially your mother, your parents had married for love, why couldn't you? It had been all you’ve heard about growing up, how their ‘love story’ was the perfect fairytale for the world to hear.

It was unfair, and you weren’t going to accept it.

Your family almost regrets the decision to let you walk out when you then take your meals in your room for a week out of protest.

…

“My dear?” your father knocks on your door.

He only calls you that when he’s trying to butter you up or soften you.

Reluctantly, the door opens and he finds you on your window seat, reading a book. You neither acknowledge him nor bat him an eye.

“I… I know that this is unideal, but please do understand,” he starts and takes a seat a few feet away from you and lowers down slowly, “As the eldest of your siblings and being a…” he chooses his words carefully, “woman…”

You raise an eyebrow, but still don’t meet his eyes, still being focused on your book.

“I need to have you wed by the end of the year,” he pleads, “my dear, hear me out, please,”

You sigh and finally look at your father and he really does seem to be bothered by the idea of you being wed, such a contrast of his elatedness at having ‘the agreement of a lifetime’ just days ago.

When you put your book down, he takes it as a sign to be closer and takes your hands into his, “Look, I am neither happier than you at letting you go,” he sighs, “You are my master strategist, my dearest daughter, and no one could ever deserve you,”

“But, you do need to be married, my dear,” he reasons, “I understand it might seem unfair as it was not a choice you’ve made, but you are already of age, so do forgive me for finding a prince who would be a good match for you and our kingdom,”

You feel… conflicted.

On one hand, you had a duty to your kingdom, a duty as the eldest daughter, to keep the lineage and prosperity of the kingdom going. But… your heart longs for a different script…

Nevertheless, you, too, sigh, and nod, taking your father’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I suppose I’ll try to get to know him,”

You father beams, and you suppose you’ll just rot in bed for the rest of your free time.

…

That is until your lady-in-waiting drags you out of the room and bathes you, preparing you in garbs, tying your hair and corset uncomfortably tight, as well as painting your face.

She kept that lighter, thankfully. You don’t have to suffer in heavy makeup in the heat.

The next thing you knew, you were whisked off to a carriage to Castrum Kremnos with no explanation. Separate to your parents, probably for the best tbh, your father wouldn't come out unscathed.

Oh, you but you would give him a piece of your mind when you get back.

You kept mumbling and grumbling about it on the way there to the point that even your head maid looked concerned.

…

“I do not wish to marry you,” Prince Mydeimos tells you the first moment alone you have.

You smile, coldly, “What a surprise, neither do I,” you say as you seat yourself opposite to him, the butler pouring you both a cup of juice.

“Unfortunately, we both have no choice,” you deadpan, “Our parents seem hellbent on making this marriage happen.”

The Prince sighs, “Unfortunately, it is true, it seems that we would be wed by proxy if either of us were to keep disagreeing on the decision,” he says as he leans on one hand on his knee.

That makes you laugh, and he gives you a smile.

You squint your eyes at the man, scrutinizing him, when an idea pops into your mind, “Prince Mydeimos, I might have a proposal you’d be interested in,” you say and his eyebrow raises.

“Dear me, I hope you are not going to propose your feelings,” he jests and you chuckle.

You shake your head, “Titans, no! None of that sort, but do come closer, I think this idea will be mutually beneficial.”

The Prince sits next to you, leaning in as he does, and you whisper your plan into his waiting ears. The room stays silent save for the silent murmurs coming from you. When he breaks out into a grin, your governess and even the butler and ladies-in-waiting in the room felt a shiver crawl up their spine.

Oh, you two were going to be a handful for the entirety of your kingdoms, weren't you?

masterlist

usagi's note: icb it took me a week to post this, but guys i cannot also believe my professors right now, its literally hell week and they're also making it so hard for us ??? LIKE WHY. anyway ill post again before the week ends, if i don't... come shout at me in asks, okay g'bye!!

@usagiarchive 2025. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

#💍 — MARRIAGE OF (IN)CONVENIENCE.#🍰 — usagi's works !!#🦁 — MYDEIMOS.#ao3 #archive of our own #mydeimos x reader #mydeimos x you #mydei x you #hsr x you #mydeimos x y/n #mydei x reader #mydei x y/n #hsr x y/n #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dividers by cafekitsune

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 days ago

Text

You Can Feel It - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Author's Note: They are in 2026 because I am bad at math. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary/Warnings: Ben has a birthday. Takes place on May 19th, post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, so much horniness, smut (breeding kink, oral, fingering, p in v)

Read on A03!

She was planning something.

And She was always planning something, but this time, it was different.

This time, Ben had asked Her not to plan anything, and She was fucking doing it anyway.

“Ben.” She’d hummed a few months ago, straddling him in bed and holding his face between Her hands. “Your birthday is next month.”

He’d scowled. “How the fuck do you know that-“

“Because you’re my husband, and I love you very much, and,” She’d smiled at him, all Her love infinite and humming in Ben’s body. “You told me.”

“I didn’t fucking tell you so it could be celebrated, Sunshine.” He’d grunted, rubbing small circles on Her thighs, and She’d frowned at him.

“You don’t want us to celebrate your birthday?”

“No. I fucking don’t.”

“Why?” She’d leaned forward, pressing Her brow to Ben’s. “Most people never get to be a hundred and seven, and have a party where they can like, fucking walk around-“

Ben had snorted, and cut Her off with a long, deep kiss. Smartass. You like that I’m fucking old-

I know. She’d mumbled between their heads, Her fingers curling against Ben’s chest. But I think my point still stands-

I am not having a fucking birthday party.

Why? She’d pulled back, Her face wide and open and so fucking beautiful, and Ben had sighed.

Because I’m not some fucking pussy child who needs cake to know I aged a year.

What if I need cake to know you’ve aged a year? She’d raised Her brows. Can we do it then?

No.

But you did cake for Ryan’s birthday-

Ryan’s a literal fucking child. And he’d needed it. Ben had frowned at the air. Kid kept goddamn apologizing for being born.

She’d sighed, and leaned fully forward to bury Her face in Ben’s chest. I know. And you were so good to him, Ben, but maybe I, She’d grinded down on him, and Ben had grunted as his cock twitched in his sweats. Fucking Christ, She was too perfect. It was going to goddamn kill him. Want to be good to you.

You are good to me, Sunshine. Ben had thrusted up in a pretty fucking genius move of retaliation, and She’d whined as he squeezed Her ass. You’re fucking perfect, and I goddamn love you, and that’s it. I don’t fucking need anything else-

What if I want to give you other things?

Then you can let me fuck you stupid, darling.

She’d mumbled something that sounded like fucking cunt, and Ben had laughed, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of Her head.

“Fucking brat.” He’d murmur in Her ear, and She’d let out a long breath, leaning back with a soft smile.

“I’m not going to push it,” She’d whispered. “But can you please tell me why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday? I- I know it’s painful, Ben.” Her hand had glided up to rest of his chest, and he’d tensed. “I can feel it here. Please.”

He’d taken a heavy, slow breath, and there was nothing in the fucking world he wouldn’t give Her or do in Her name. It was why after this, he had to get up and let the damn cat out, and later he’d be picking their son up from school, and then he’d make Her a good fucking dinner and fuck Her until she was a writhing, happy mess below him.

Bu that also meant he had to give Her the damn truth.

And Ben didn’t lie to his wife anyway.

But he’d really been hoping to not talk about this one.

“Last year.” He’d muttered, holding Her sharp, pretty gaze as he spoke, and running a hand under Her shirt—his shirt, looking fucking perfect on Her body—to hold Her by the waist. “My birthday was fucking shit. And I don’t want to celebrate it again.”

“Last-“ Her eyes had widened slightly, and Ben had felt Her still. Almost felt Her own cold, deep fear creep into his own blood, Her heartbeat picking up in his ears. “Oh.”

He’d nodded, pulling Her a little tighter into his chest. “Spent the whole fucking day missing you, and wishing you were home. Didn’t feel like there was fucking shit to celebrate without you, and I’m too damn old for birthdays. Won’t be enough candles in the fucking world.”

“I could find them.” She’d mumbled. “Or just be the candle myself. And I’m here now, Ben.”

“I know you are, Sunshine.” He’d sighed, pressing kiss to the top of Her head. “And that’s all I fucking need. No party.”

She’d hummed, and they’d stayed just like for a while longer before the day had started. Ben had even gotten to haul Her up on the dresser, and fucked Her until he was marking Her legs and abdomen with his release, and Her eyes were glazed with something other than pain.

He’d hoped She’d forget. Or just let it the fuck go.

He should have known better.

Because Ben knew She was planning something. Whenever he asked what the fuck are you up to, Sunshine, She’d just smile at him and shrug.

Which meant She couldn’t answer. Because whatever She said would be a goddamn lie.

So She was fucking planning something.

Ben cornered Annie at a team meeting night—Hughie would have been easier, but the pussy had stayed home with their stupid damn baby, so Ben was stuck with Annie—and tried for just one fucking answer.

It didn’t work.

“I’m not saying anything, Ben.” Annie didn’t even look up from her cooking, when he approached. “So don’t bother trying.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “So there is fucking something.”

Annie just shrugged, and didn’t say another goddamn word.

Butcher wasn’t any better.

“Didn’t even know you had a birthday, Gov.” He drawled, and Ben scowled.

“I wasn’t made in a fucking lab, you asscuck-“

“Shit, that’s right, ain’t it.” Butcher grinned at him, spinning around in his chair. “Nothin’ but pure natural genetics in your pretty face, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart-“

“Shame, though. I’d shoot my shot with ya, Mate, if your lady wouldn’t fuckin’ burn my eyeballs out.” Butcher whistled, and just kept goddamn spinning. “America’s first cunt family-“

“Butcher.” Frenchie had wheeled into view from the backroom, where all the drugs Ben wasn’t allowed to touch were kept. “I will not save you if he shoots you. I will laugh.”

“Not my fault the cunt’s so bloody fun to push.” Butcher had rolled his eyes, and started wheeling to the room, taking a million goddamn years. “How’s the new gun comin’?”

Ben had fucking known wheelie chairs would be a horrible fucking idea. But nobody goddamn listened to him but Her.

Maybe not Her.

He was going out of his fucking mind about it. She wouldn’t just ignore him like that, but She was also fucking hiding something. And She didn’t have a golden fucking record on the things She hid from Ben. The last thing She’d hidden was that she’d been taking fucking drugs that made Her think he didn’t love Her. Bad shit happened when She goddamn hid things from him.

And it was good that they were all so fucking loyal to Her. Nobody deserved it more than She did, and nobody had earned it more either.

But nobody would fucking tell Ben shit. Kimiko just ignored him. Hughie got all fucking red-faced and ran away like a goddamn coward, and MM just muttered trust your wife, man.

Ben did fucking trust Her.

Just not Her brilliant, stupid fucking plans.

“Ryan.” He grunted in the kitchen, and Ryan looked up with the same open, wide-eyed look that crossed Her face so often.

The kid had been picking up a lot of Her habits. He was even tapping his pencil on the papers as he waited for Ben to continue.

She was such a good fucking mother. And if Ben had any damn say in it, Ryan would have a sibling by the end of the year. They fucked too often for it not to happen.

Not the fucking point right now. Picturing Her with a soft smile and baby in Her arms, talking to Ryan about some smart shit while Ben took care of everything else wasn’t going to help him figure out what the fuck She was planning.

“My birthday is next weekend.” Ben watched Ryan carefully as he spoke. “You know anything about that shit?”

Ryan frowned at him. “About your birthday?”

Ben gave a short nod, and Ryan shrugged.

“I know that it’s next week. May 19th. And you’re going to be a hundred and seven, which means you were born in 1919. Huh, there’s a lot of nineteens in your birthday-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, and—just fucking like Her—the kid’s mouth snapped shut. “I know when my own damn birthday is. What the fucking is happening.”

“You’re getting older?”

Christ on a fucking cross, She’d trained the kid well. “Well, what the fuck is happening on the day.”

“Um, it’s a Tuesday, so I think I have a math test-“

Ben grunted Her name, bracing his arms on the counter and leaning forward. “What the fuck is she planning?”

Ryan swallowed, his heartbeat picking up slightly. Not enough for fear.

The exact, frantic pace of a fucking lie.

“I- I think she told me she’s got a meeting about some new lawsuits against Vought-“

“For my birthday. I know she’s up to something, Ryan. Tell me.”

Ryan blinked at him, his mouth opening slowly, and Ben fucking had it-

“Don’t answer that, Ryan.” She fucking materialized in the kitchen, and Ben scowled.

You were supposed to be in the fucking bathroom, Sunshine-

I finished. She moved to Ryan’s side, glaring at Ben over his head. “Stop bullying my son, Benjamin.”

Ben managed to roll his eyes, although She could probably feel the warmth building in his chest from how Ryan sat a little taller at Her words.

Her son.

God fucking dammit.

“I’m not bullying him-“

“Yes, you were.”

Ryan looked up at Her with wide, nervous eyes. “He- he wasn’t-“

“I know, Ry.” She gave him a soft smile, and Ben couldn’t even hold his scowl. “I’m giving him shit because he’s a cunt.”

Brat.

Shut up. “You want to go get ready for bed?”

Ryan nodded, shuffling away with an almost worried look in Ben’s direction, and he gave a small nod in return. He was a grown fucking man. He’d be fine.

She was just as fucking terrifying as She was beautiful, when Her glare turned back in his direction, but Ben would be fine.

She loved him.

She still looked fucking pissed.

“Hi, Sunshine-“

“Don’t hi, Sunshine, me, you old fuckhat.”

Shit.

“Don’t, push him like that, Ben-“

“I wasn’t fucking pushing him-“

“Yes, you were. And I- He worships the fucking ground you walk on Ben, and he would have told you-“

“Why don’t you want him to tell me?” Ben snapped, forcing his voice to stay firm, but even. He wouldn’t yell at Her. Ever. Even when She was being an infuriating, perfect pain in his ass. “No secrets, Sunshine-“

“It’s not a secret-“

“You just won’t fucking tell me-“

“Because I- I’m saving it, Ben-“

“For my birthday.” His jaw clenched, his words pushed through his teeth. “I told you I didn’t want to fucking celebrate it-“

“I- I know-“ She shook Her head, Her voice growing soft. “I do, I promise, and I’m going to listen to you. No party, no big deal, there’s just something else and I can’t tell you yet, but I want to, and I- I love you, I’m sorry.”

She’d fucking apologized. And pressed herself back against the counter.

Away from Ben.

Fucking- That wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. Ever. Ben couldn’t even goddamn really remember why he’d been that made, he just wanted Her to come back and stop looking so fucking sad. It was making him feel heavy and a little choked, his fists clenching to grab for Her, pull Her into his chest and make Her feel better, do whatever he had to for Her to smile again, and stop moving away from him.

Ben muttered Her name, taking a careful step forward, relief crashing through his chest like a goddamn wave when She didn’t flinch away. It was just one fucking fight. Couples fought.

And he’d fix it. For Her, he’d fucking apologize on his goddamn knees like some pussy.

Ben could fix it.

“I- I’m sorry-“

“Don’t.” He grunted, taking another step, and She leaned into him immediately. Pressing Her face into Ben’s chest and wrapping Her arms around his torso, clinging to him even though he was the fucking shitfuck asshole who made the most perfect woman in the world cry. There was a weak sound that left Her throat, ripping through Ben’s body and strangling his chest, but he kept himself upright and held Her against his body.

He kept Her there for a few minutes until Her heart and breathing were steady, then tugged lightly on Her hair until her head tipped back, Her eyes glossy as they met his.

Listen. He let out a slow breath, dropping his brow to Her’s. I fucking love you-

I- I know, Ben, but-

No. I love you, and I trust you, and I was wrong. Shouldn’t have pushed Ryan, when I trust you. I just- He took another heavy breath, and shook his head against Her’s. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, that was the worst goddamn month of my life. Spent the whole fucking day just missing you and thinking about how I couldn’t help you.

You did help me-

Didn’t fucking feel like it in the moment. Ben grunted between their heads, his grip on Her tightening slightly. And I’m a hundred and fucking seven. Goddamn stupid to celebrate that.

She hummed, offering him a small smile. I don’t think it’s stupid.

Of course you don’t. He chuckled, moving to press a kiss to Her brow. I’m sorry, Sunshine. Fucking love you. Won’t do that to Ryan again, either-

She let out a soft giggle, shaking Her head. I think Ryan’s more worried about you.

Then I’ll fucking apologize for that. Ben frowned into the air. Kid shouldn’t have to take on our shit too.

She nodded, pressing Her head back into Ben’s chest with a soft hum. Thank you, my love.

Ben scowled. I made you fucking cry-

And you apologized. And I’m still pissed at you. She leaned back, Her eyes sharp on Ben’s, and he couldn’t stop his grin. But I feel better. And if you really want to know now-

No. Ben cut Her off between their heads with a long, deep kiss. Trust you. Fucking meant it. And that was a stupid fucking thing to fight about.

We’ve fought about stupider. She smiled against his lips. And I won, for the record.

Ben just laughed, drawing back to grin at Her. I think I fucking won, darling. Because the best part of fighting is now that it’s done, I get to fuck you stupid.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as a slightly flush covered Her perfect features. We were going to fuck anyway, you horny old cunt-

Don’t fucking care. Ben hauled Her fully into his arms, kissing Her neck and marching for the stairs. Still so fucking perfect, Sunshine. Going to make you feel so fucking good, show you how fucking sorry I am until you’re cumming all over my goddamn cock-

God fucking- She moaned, dropping Her face into his neck. Ben-

I know, darling. You want to feel good? Want me to fuck you full of me, fuck you pregnant-

Ben, please-

Never going to make you fucking cry again. His words were more for himself.

She still needed to hear them.

Fucking swear it, Ben grunted Her name, leaning back to meet Her gaze. You’re fucking perfect, and I trust you with my goddamn life-

I know, Benjamin, my love. She gave him a soft smile, and nothing his Ben’s body hurt at all. You think you can fuck me pregnant?

His cock twitched in his pants. She knew exactly what the fuck She was doing, looking so fucking smug and beautiful and smart in Ben’s arms.

All goddamn his.

Such a fucking brat, he muttered between their heads, biting slightly on Her neck and smirking at Her squeak. Are you fucking doubting me, darling?

No-

Sounds like you’re fucking doubting me. Like you think I’m not going to fuck you until you can’t goddamn walk.

She whined, Her nails pressing against his neck. Ben, please-

Going to take good care of you. He muttered, leaving an open mouth kiss over Her throat. Fucking love you, Sunshine. You’re my goddamn world-

I know. She smiled against his skin, and for a second, Ben could feel it.

All Her love, burning and vast and unending, all for him, alive in his chest.

She knew. Ben had dedicated his whole fucking life to Her and Ryan, so She knew.

And he did apologize to Ryan later. Mostly because the kid deserved it—and She’d been right, because She always was right, and Ryan had been more worried about Ben than himself—but a little to show Her. He could be a good father. He could take accountability and apologize to his kids, like a real goddamn man. Apologize and mean it. Never fucking do it again, and keep proving that he was trying.

He was always fucking trying.

But She still wasn’t pregnant. And She’d said She wanted this, but it wasn’t happening. And if She didn’t, Frenchie said Her body would stop it.

They didn’t lie to each other. They never fucking lied to each other, and Ben trusted Her, but fucking Christ he couldn’t stop the tension over his shoulders about it. That She didn’t want this, and She was just doing it for him. She should never have to do shit for anyone, let alone Ben. He was supposed to do shit for Her. That was the whole goddamn point, was that She fixed everything for everyone and then came back to Ben. And he’d love Her and worship her however She fucking needed.

Ben trusted Her. He wasn’t going to push it.

But he was still goddamn worried.

And the week passed, and half of him forgot about the stupid birthday. He cared more about Her anyway. About climbing over Her in bed and kissing Her until she sighed his name into his mouth. And Ben had other shit to do, as well. Ryan needed help with homework, and Her goddamn cat kept sitting on Ben’s paperwork, and no matter how much he grunted that Maeve needed to fucking move, nothing worked. He picked the thing up and set it on the floor, and it just jumped into his goddamn lap.

She adored this stupid thing. Ryan did too. And Ben didn’t… hate it. Anymore.

Still occupied him, though. Having to explain to Butcher why goddamn cat hair was all over the files. And it didn’t help that he’d been feeling strange all week. Not sick—Ben didn’t fucking get sick—but strange.

So he forgot.

And then he woke up, and it was his stupid goddamn birthday.

Nothing was fucking happening. Ben had gotten confirmation She’d been planning something, but he couldn’t goddamn figure out what. The day was identical to every other fucking Tuesday. Ben rolled Her onto her stomach and fucked Her until she was cumming all over his cock and the room was dancing with warm lights and mist, then fucked Her in shower with her pretty tits in his hands and his mouth attached to Her neck.

He made sure Ryan was good for school, drove Her to work—fingering Her in the car, the air waving from heat as She grabbed his arm and orgasmed with a moan—and went in for a few hours to pretend to work.

There were no jobs to do, so they mostly just sat around and did jack fucking shit. Frenchie and Kimiko were watching something called a drag race that had nothing to do with cars, and Butcher was spinning in his stupid fucking chair while Ben tried to get Her attention.

Sunshine-

I’m working, Ben.

You could be fucking talk to me instead.

Or I could finish this meeting and come home early.

Just come home right fucking now, and we can watch that stupid fucking Zombie show-

That stupid Zombie show made you cry, Pretty Boy.

No, it fucking didn’t. Ben scowled at the air. It was just a sad fucking story, and I’m not a fucking heartless dickass-

I know. Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. I’d live with you in a bunker until we both died, Benjamin.

Good. But I’d kill all the stupid pussy zombies.

Of course you would, my love.

Shut up. Ben paused, then added. Let’s go home.

Nope. Need to work.

But it’s my fucking birthday.

I thought you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday-

I want my fucking wife, Sunshine, is that goddamn crime. You didn’t even wish me happy birthday-

Happy birthday, Benjamin, my love, you dramatic fucking cunt.

Ben didn’t bother to hide his grin. Brat.

You love it. I’ll be home in three hours.

She turned back into only a presence—happy and calm—over Ben’s head, and he could do three hours.

Three hours had fucking nothing on him. Ben would fucking destroy three hours.

Before he left for the day, though, he couldn’t manage to escape gifts. At least they weren’t total fucking shit. Kimiko and Frenchie got him some weed—thank fucking Christ—and Butcher got him a Hawaiian shirt because he was a fucking dickhead.

“You’ll look better in it anyway,” She hummed when Ben showed Her, his arm thrown around Her shoulders to keep her pressed against him.

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was Her fucking there. And the moment he’d felt Her getting close—Annie dropping Her off with only a smile and nod at Ben—he’d felt an iron weight over his chest lift.

He hadn’t even registered it until She was there. And it wasn’t there most days, because She could take care of her fucking self.

But Ben had just kept thinking about their old, empty apartment, and Her blank expression on the TV.

He just fucking wanted Her here. In comparison, other gifts were all fucking dogshit. Ben liked them just fine—a future surprise gift from Annie, Phillies tickets from Hughie, and a card that just said fucking congrats from MM, along with more weed—but none of them were fucking Her.

Her and Ryan were really all that Ben goddamn wanted. Needed. Could ever fucking need.

And that made this birthday, in the end, better than any of the fucking others. Ben had gotten parties before, and they’d been big fucking shitshows. Full of drinks with some of the most annoying fucking pussies on the planet, a million compliments and gifts from people he didn’t care about, and sex with faceless women.

There were no drinks tonight, but Ryan had made Ben burgers, and beamed with an unmistakable pride when Ben called them good fucking food. She’d gotten him a malt vanilla ice cream cake, and stuck seven candles in it with a teasing smile and kiss over his beard.

Ben wasn’t fucking having that. He tangled a hand in Her hair and turned to capture Her into a full, long, open-mouthed kiss, going and going until She was leaning over him and gasping softly into his mouth.

Happy seventh birthday, Ben. She mumbled when he pulled back, and he chuckled and nipped on Her lower lip.

Smartass.

She just hummed and wrapped Her arms around Ben’s neck as he turned back to Ryan, and asked him about school.

There were no empty compliment or gifts, either. Ryan got Ben a shit looking mug that the kid had made in his art class, and Ben was never going to use another fucking mug again.

“It, um,” Ryan had cleared his throat, pointing to odd painting job. “It says number one dad. I think. I tried to make it say number one dad, but painting is hard, and I-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, holding the kid’s nervous gaze. “It’s good. Don’t lose your damn mind.”

Ryan nodded, shifting like he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, and Ben rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug.

“You did well, kid.” He muttered, low enough for only Ryan to hear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan whispered. “I- Thank you for- You know-“

Ben squeezed Ryan. “I do.”

She was smiling at Ben when he pulled away.

And that was the best goddamn part.

Ben got to pull Her into another kiss, feel Her melt into his body, and know that She was here. With him. Safe and fucking happy.

So Ben wouldn’t be having sex with any faceless women on his birthday.

It would just be Her, for the rest of his fucking life.

——————

It’s a miracle Ben hasn’t noticed. That he hasn’t walked you backwards against a wall or pinned you down in bed with a frown, kissing you until you were dizzy then demanding to know what was wrong.

And nothing is wrong.

It isn’t.

Everything is good. Ben is good, Ryan is good, and you’re really good.

There’s something eating at your gut, and you feel a little light-headed and wired, but it will be better soon. You’ll tell Ben, and the tension will leave your head and slow in your hands, and everything will be good.

It will be.

You have a plan.

Ryan goes to Butcher’s, after you finish dinner. Ben scowls at the sight of the man on your doorstep, but before their usual grunting, puffed chest stand-off can start, you place your hand on Ben’s arm and give him a soft smile.

Stand down, Pretty Boy. I asked him to take Ryan for the night.

He frowns at you. Why the fuck would you do that.

I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep quiet.

That’s all you have to say.

Ben lets Butcher take Ryan—although not before giving him a tight hug and muttering that he’ll to pick him up in the morning—and Butcher doesn’t in a single have fun rimmin’ each other before the door is slammed in his face and Ben’s attention turns to you.

And you can feel his hunger all the time. You’d planned on making some sort of joke about how for a man on his age, Ben’s sex drive only seems to be building, but it’s hard to remember the details of it now. Because Ben’s on you in half a second, sweeping you up into his arms with a smirk, and you’re gone.

It’s more consuming than a tidal wave, the sheer fucking starvation in Ben’s body. For you. It’s all aimed into your body, and it’s lined with love—it always is—but it’s still fucking hunger.

“You’ve got something for me,” he drawls, already walking you up the stairs. “Don’t you, Sunshine.”

“Maybe.” You mumble, letting your fingers glide up to play with the hair of his beard. “It is your birthday. And you did get very dramatic about your surprise.”

Ben just grunts, and the sore, prickling feeling grows hot over your skin. It’s part of why you weren’t that mad about him about the fight. You could feel how it was going to hurt him more than you, feel how it had been tight in his lungs and known that he wouldn’t do it again.

Ben, the huge, handsome dumbass, has one of the lowest emotional pain tolerances you’ve ever seen. You’ve felt how he holds you tighter during sad parts of movies, as if he’s worried the tragedy on the screen is going to jump out and take you as well.

So there was no doubt in your mind, that Ben would shoot himself before he repeated that fight. And you had been a little dramatic about it as well, but it was Ryan. He hadn’t even really known what was going on, only that you had to tell Ben something, and it was better for everyone if he stayed at Butcher’s after Ben’s birthday dinner. And Ryan would’ve beat himself up for betraying your trust, then Ben would’ve gotten pissed at himself about making Ryan upset, so it was easier to cut out the middleman and just take the bullet yourself.

He’s more than made up for it. There were flowers on your dresser when you got home the next night, he brought you ice cream at work the day after that, and he’s been letting you chose what to watch every single evening since.

And you hadn’t wanted to keep things from him. You fucking hated hiding anything at all from Ben. There have been so many moments over the past few weeks where you’ve wanted to grab his face between your hands and tell him, but this was a perfect gift. And he wouldn’t be pissed when he found out. Hopefully it would drown and wash away all that hot shame, and you’d really be proven right.

You just had to tell him first.

“I did get you something.” You hum, leaning back to give him a wide, unrestrained smile. “That’s the surprise.”

Ben snorts. “Fucking worked that one out, Sunshine. You going to actually damn tell me, or do I have to fuck it out of you.”

It’s hard to fight down the breathiness of your voice, and you don’t really try to anyway.

Ben can hear your heartbeat anyway.

“I’ll tell you no matter what.” You press your face in his neck, mumbling against his skin. “But I- Fucking would be nice.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating through your whole body. “You giving me birthday sex, darling? You going to let me do whatever the fuck I want to your perfect fucking pussy? Let me play with it until you’re just whining like a goddamn brat?”

He might be trying to get you to burst into flames.

It’s going to work.

“I always let you do what you want.” Your protest is weak, and Ben’s hunger only flares.

“Goddamn right you do.” His lips brush over the shell of your ear, and something slams behind you. “You how why, beautiful?”

You shake your head, and Ben’s chuckle is low and dark, moving right between your thighs.

“I think you do know.” He drawls, and suddenly you’re on the bed, Ben towering over you and brushing hair away from your face.

There’s a softness to his touch that you can feel in his chest. Molten and glowing over his ribs as he watches you, gentle in a way his deep voice isn’t.

But it’s still all Ben. And his thumb brushed over your lip and presses slightly, you can’t do anything but part for him without thought.

A low, rumbling sound leaves Ben’s chest, and the hunger is turning to starvation. As if you’ve been separated for years, rather than barely at all through the whole day. But to be fair, Ben always touches you like he thinks he’s never going to see you again. And you always grind against the sheets like it’s the first time he’s ever even spared you a glance.

And when Ben presses his thumb into your mouth, you let your tongue flick against it and suck slightly. Going and going until you’re a little dizzy with need, and all you can see if Ben looking down at you with a smirk.

“There you go.” He mutters, pulling his thumb away with a slight pop. “Good girl. You going to use some smart words, and answer my question?”

You blink at him, still a little lost in the haze of lust. “What question?”

Ben’s grin grows, and before you know what’s happening he’s tossing you back on the mattress and prowling over you, his shirt already tossed into a corner of the room.

It’s good you didn’t wear your fireproof clothing today.

All it takes is one firm, consuming kiss into the mattress, Ben’s hand trailing up your thighs to rest between your legs, and you’re burning.

“So fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters, watching you grind shameless down onto his palm, your mouth hanging open and hands scratching hopelessly at his chest. “Still need to fucking hear it, darling. Why do I get to play with this pussy,” he slaps your cunt once, and your back arches off the mattress with a small gasp. “As much as I want?”

You just blink at him, words a little far away as the feeling of Ben—big and warm and strong above you—makes you feel high, and he chuckles.

“You need some help, Sunshine?”

You nod a little stupidly, and Ben crashes down, all but eating you alive with his teeth scraping your lips and tongue down your throat before muttering against your mouth.

“Because I take good fucking care of you. Because you’re my wife, and I fucking love you and fuck you so good you only know one word, don’t you.”

You moan as one finger slides into you, and Ben fucking shining with pride in his chest.

He’s earned it.

Because when he hums, “What the word, beautiful?” You scream the only thing that’s in your head.

Ben, Ben- Fuck- Ben-

“Good girl.” He grins as his fingers pull out and you whine, only laughing when he pinches and rolls your clit and you let out a weak noise of desperation.

Ben-

“You know what I want for my birthday,” Ben drawls your name, wrapping his arm slowly around your waist. “More than fucking anything?”

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide eyes, and his grin somehow grows.

“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I want,” Ben leans down, holding your gaze, and your fingers shoot up to hold his face on instinct. “For my beautiful fucking wife to sit on my goddamn face.”

“I- Ben-“ You shake your head, even as you start to roll your hips against him once more. “I could suffocate you-“

He snorts. “You can get a better excuse than that fucking bullshit, Sunshine.”

“I- I can’t. But, Ben-“

“Don’t ask if I’m sure.” He grunts, the hunger suddenly wrapped entirely with stone-like, powerful care. “Do you want to-“

“Yes.” You whisper, and the hunger rushes back with almost twice the straight.

“Good.” He mutters, and before you down what’s happening, Ben’s rolling you over and pulling you upright on his chest, setting into the pillows with a cocky smirk. “Come here.”

“I am here.” You shift slightly, tracing your fingers over the muscles of his chest, and he gives you a slightly tug by your hips.

“I want you here.” He raised his brows, and the fire might have gone out, but there’s a dizzying rush of light already dancing around the room at the sheer desire in Ben’s body and gaze.

He’s going to eat you alive.

And your knees already feel weak from it. You’re not sure you remember how to move.

“Ben,” you lean forward, letting your nose bump slightly with his. “Do you want your birthday present now, or-“

“This is my birthday present.”

You can’t stop your smile, because there’s almost a pout on his face, and he’s the strongest man in the world, but right now he’s all but grumbling and pout at you, and the idea that you could possibly ever be worried about sitting on his face.

“Benjamin.”

He grunts, squeezing the skin of your hips as a hand trails up your side, and your smile widens.

“If this is your present, I guess you don’t want the sex doll I got you.”

“I have my sex doll right fucking here,” he squeezes your waist, nipping at your lower lip. “And she’s goddamn perfect.”

“Gross and sweet. What if I tape my face to this one?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and come here.”

“What about the surprise? Is this replacing that- Shit-“ You squeak as he starts to drag you up his chest, until you’re almost straddling his neck.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He rubs firm circles on your thighs, and you smile down at him, your finger drifting into his hair as you hold his gaze.

“Hi, Ben. I- Um-“ You swallow, grinding slightly against him as his hunger feeds your own need.

Handsome and strong and grinning up at you, and you do want to do this, but-

“How does this work?” You ask, and Ben face turns into something feral, his voice somehow dropping deeper.

“Have you never fucking sat on a face before, darling?” Ben’s grip tightens when you nod, and you almost fall over from the sheer power of his hunger. It’s throbbing between your legs and warm in your core, but then Ben kneads at your thighs, and little electronic shocks wrap over your skin until you’re all but putty in his hands.

He knows it. There’s a blooming, shining pride through his whole chest, and the asshole is smug as he lets your grind down on his body, his voice a loving, teasing hum as he says your name.

“You want me to take care of you? Need me to show you how to ride my fucking face, let me fuck you like you deserve while you just sit here and look beautiful like a good girl?”

You nod, your hand trailing down your stomach to find your clit, and Ben fucking growls as he swats your fingers away.

“I do that.” He grunts, running his hands up to hold your hips, turning his head to kiss on your knee. “Hold on.”

He doesn’t give you time to react to his order before you’re being pulled forward and Ben slams you down onto his face.

You almost scream at the first movement. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt as he rolls your hips against him. Big hands drag and down up your body, holding you over him, and when he angles his face to bite at your clit, your fingers fly to yank at his hair.

Ben’s chuckle vibrates against your pussy, and the moan that escapes you is loud and shameless and almost pathetic. You can’t find it in your to care, though. Because then Ben’s tongue starts to plunge in and out of your cunt, and the high whine of Ben that leaves you is desperate and needy and only spurs him on.

You like it, darling? Ben picks up his pace, shifting you above him just enough to let his tongue flick at your clit until you’re in almost a frenzy—pulling at his hair and burning a handprint into the headboard—before returning to your pussy. Taste like fucking heaven, doing so fucking good for me, screaming my name-

You let out a high sound that was maybe supposed to be Ben, and he only laughs again.

Good girl.

You let out another loud moan, Ben somehow doubles his efforts, and you’ve been wrecked before.

But this is bigger.

This is destroyed.

Ben’s beard tickles and rubs your thighs in the best way possible, and his nose keeps bumping on your clit, and you’re lost to any world that isn’t Ben. His tongue fucking and licking and twisting deep into your cunt, one hand reaching up to palm and flick at your breasts, the other squeezing your ass, low grunts and growls rumbling through him whenever your thighs clench around him or you squirm above him.

You let out a loud, lewd moan as Ben’s tongue presses flat against your clit as broad fingers pinch and roll your nipple, and Ben laughs against your cunt.

Think you can cum on my fucking face, Sunshine? He moves back to pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy, and you lose all sense of control. Grinding down shameless and making loud, pleading sounds of his name, arching your back and bracing a hand on Ben’s thigh.

You can feel his cock, hard and standing at attention, bumping on your forearm as the coil in your gut starts to become almost painful.

And when you grope blindly to grab it, your fingers brush the base of his shaft and Ben groans your name right into your cunt.

You want to touch him. But his grip is like iron above you, keeping you pinned against his face as he pulls you apart, and he’s stronger than you are.

But you can feel that strength in him. Radiant and atomic and deep in his body, calling for you to borrow just a little bit.

You try not to use the mimicry. It too powerful, feels a little like an invasion, and you don’t fight anymore, so there’s really no point.

But when you whine Ben, he only squeezes you by your hips and sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s fucking impossible and everything in the world, and you’re going to go insane if he doesn’t let you touch him.

So you grab that little bit of his strength, let it flow so naturally into your own body, and move before Ben can figure out what’s happening. Pushing away from him with a high whine, twisting around so your clit is brushing perfectly against his beard, and leaning down to take him into your mouth.

Fucking- Christ on a cross. Ben’s grip tightens, his growl open-mouthed against you cunt, and you moan around his dick without shame. You’re fucking- so fucking perfect, Sunshine, fucking-

You take him until he bumps against the back of your throat, your hands playing with his balls as you squeeze his inner thigh, and the hunger in Ben’s body feels feral.

He’s squeezing your ass and groaning your name as you choke and swallow around him, and every sound he pulls from your throat makes him twitch in your hands, until you’re no sure if you’re dangling over the edge, or he is.

Fuck you’re perfect, sucking my cock like a good girl, making all those goddamn pretty sounds for me. Ben groans as another one of those sounds leaves you, his dick twitching in the back of your throat. Need you to fucking cum for me, beautiful, soak my fucking face and scream my name-

Ben’s tongue to flick over your clit, working you right up until you’re writhing above him and moaning around him, and he bites you. Right on your clit before pressing a mockingly soft kiss, and you fly over the edge.

You might be screaming his name. You’re not sure. Ben won’t stop eating your cunt, even as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you right off his cock. You whine, squirming against him, but all it gets you is flat on your back with Ben still buried between your thighs. Your thighs are squeezing him so tight you’re a little worried you’re going to burst his skull, but all you’re getting from him is love and reverence and pleasure. Ben just keeps devouring you as smaller, softer and melting orgasms roll through your body, and you’re weakly tugging at his hair as stars begin to line your vision.

Ben. You moan as he pushes his tongue back into your cunt, your hips jerking off the mattress. Ben, please, fuck me-

He groans, a finger sneaking up to rub over your pussy lips, teasing your entrance as he moves to lips to sucking your clit. You need me to fill you up, Sunshine? Want to squeeze this fucking cock in your perfect pussy?

You nod, a high whine leaving you as Ben hums against you.

Say please-

Please. You let out a breathless noise, dignity long gone as you writhe below him. Benjamin, please, please fuck me, I need it so bad-

Fucking Christ. He laughs, pressing a sloppy kiss over your spasming pussy, rising back up to grin down at you with an unmistakable devotion. That fucking desperate for me, Sunshine? Begging like a perfect fucking brat for me-

Yes. You force your arms up to wrap around his neck. Yours, Ben, all yours, just- please. You press a kiss to his beard as he pulls you into his lap, your body burning and boneless against him. Need you, Ben.

His face flashes with a love that’s mirrored in his body, a hand tracing over the line of your cheekbones. You need me?

You nod, and there’s enough strength of Ben’s left in your body for you to grind against him and dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving a rare mark on his body that makes him hiss in your ear.

“Need you to do that more.” He grunts, his cock jumping against your ass. “Fucking- Wish I could mark you. Show everyone who fucks you so damn pretty and dumb,” he pulls you up slightly, groaning your name into your ear as he guides you down onto his cock. “Think everyone will know when my goddamn cum is dripping out of your perfect cunt?”

You moan and clench around him, throwing your head back in a numbing bliss, and Ben grabs the opportunity. His lips latch onto that spot on your neck, and he starts to fuck up into you with a brutal, skip slapping pace.

And you lose track of how many orgasms you have. You just know it feels good. Like you’re being washed in a glowing light every second, Ben’s cock bumping against that already aching and needy spot inside of you and his low, growled praise in your head or ear only turning you into a whining mess against his body. But big hands are rubbing over your back and keeping you bouncing onto him, and you can’t think anything but Ben.

You squeeze around him and scratch over his back, and Ben grunts your name between your head. Good girl, Sunshine, taking my cock so fucking well, going to- Fuck, I’m going to fuck your full of me until everyone can goddamn smell it-

You lean forward and nod against Ben’s shoulder, grinding down when he bruises impossible deep inside of you, and the last orgasm might just be Ben’s, rolling through you as he cums with a roar of your name. Slamming home and capturing your mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, rutting against you until he’s dripping down your thighs and the high is only lingering in your bodies.

There’s a long while before either of you bother to move. Ben keeps you firmly down on his cock with hands on your waist, muttering low praise and kissing over your collarbone as you sit in his warmth, and drift back down. But eventually, he presses a firm kiss to the top your head before rolling over and pulling out, slapping his cock against your aching pussy once, and pulling you into another deep, long kiss when a moan escapes your throat.

Stay here. His thumb traces over your cheekbone as he pulls away, and you shake your head, grabbing his wrist. “Sunshine-“

“I- I need to give you your present.” You whisper, and the love in Ben’s chest flares like a fucking bomb, even as he frowns.

“Have to clean you up-“

“Ben.” You squeeze him, tugging him pointlessly back down. The strength is gone. You just need him here. “Please.”

He sighs, but nods, and falls right back over you, pinning you between his warmth and the bed.

Your hands shoot into his hair, your face burying in the crook of his neck, and an easy, gentle calm washes over your body as your breath in pine and vanilla and Ben.

You can do this.

“Are you ready for the surprise?”

Ben grunts, shifting you slightly so your legs tangled together and his arm can snake around your waist, and it’s helping. The feeling of him everywhere, the way he’s already holding you like you’re the most important thing into the world.

The words are almost easy to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ben stills completely around you. And you couldn’t feel his love all but roaring through his body, you’d be worried.

But Ben’s a part of you. And every bit of furious, wrathful care and love in him is wrapping around you, like he’s already trying to protect you more. You should maybe be worried about that. How he’s going to be hovering over you the entire time, and going to drive Butcher up the wall by refusing to go on mission because he’s not leaving his pregnant fucking wife, you pussycuck, and Hughie’s going to have to stop tossing you pens in the office, or Ben might cut off his arm.

You should be worried.

But you’re not.

It’s Ben. And if you tell him to back the fuck up before he’s stuck sleeping on the couch, he’ll listen. He’ll know it’s an empty threat—you’d end up crawling over him on the couch or calling him back up to bed—but he’ll still listen. He’ll grumble and scowl, but listen.

And he’s already such a good fucking dad. This is just going to be a little more—diapers and crying and screaming and tantrums—but Ben doesn’t give up. And if even an eighth of the love in him right now is for the baby, they're going to be the most adored child in the world.

“How-“ Ben coughs, and when you lean back, his jaw is almost slack. “How the fuck-“

You giggle. “I think you’re how, my love. You and your breeding kink-“

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, his voice still slightly hoarse. “You’re sure. That you’ve done it.”

“Yeah, Ben.” You smile at him, your lips brushing over his. “I took the test a week after we got back from our honeymoon, and it was positive, so I was probably already several weeks along-“

He tenses around you. “That was almost goddamn month ago-“

“I know.” You sigh, propping your chin against his chest. “And I was going to tell you, but then I remembered your birthday was coming up, and I thought it would make a good gift.”

Your words trail off towards the end, Ben stares at you for a long moment, and then shakes his head. “Fucking Christ, Sunshine-“

“I’m sorry-“

“You’re fucking perfect.” Ben rolls fully back over you, his mouth slamming into yours for a bruising kiss, and there is it.

He’s happy. There’s nothing stronger and more focused than the sheer fucking love and joy in Ben’s body. And soon you’ll have to start working things out and planning, telling people and arranging how a supe-pregnancy will work. Annie and MM already know, but only because they were there when you took the test. You’ll have to tell Ryan, and he’ll probably be expecting something in the morning. The government will be hell to deal with, and if you want to do a real wedding, you’ll either have to do it soon or after the baby arrives.

But those are problems for later.

Right now it’s all Ben, kissing you deep and holding you against him, so full of love you’d might need to be worried it’s going to split him in half.

“I fucking love you.” He mutters, his hand already gliding to rest on your lower abdomen. “You’re- Christ on a Cross, you’re fucking-“

He seems to be short-circuiting, but it doesn’t stop him from diving back down and muttering more praise against your lips.

Love you, Sunshine. Going to take good care of you, you perfect fucking menace. Both of you.

Love you too, You mumble between your heads, combing your fingers through his hair once more. Happy birthday, Benjamin.

End Note: Butcher's going to make Ben watch one of those sex ed birthing videos, and he's gonna be on his knees (he feels all the pain she feels. he's gonna need that weed)

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velvetinks · 2 days ago

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I really liked you miller siblings story, can it do more parts or make more stories like that. Please, please, please.

Thank you!

You Always Were the Loud One

Joel Miller, Tommy Miller x sister!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, survivor’s guilt, cursing, light alcohol, emotional conversations

Tommy slammed the door harder than necessary. You didn’t flinch. You just sipped your whiskey and smirked.

“That door do something to you, cowboy?”

Tommy groaned and dropped into the seat beside you in the Jackson community bar. “He’s impossible.”

You arched a brow. “You two finally goin’ for Round Ten?”

“More like Round Fifty,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “He acts like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I didn’t help build this place.”

You took another slow sip. “Well. In his defense, you do tend to blow shit up.”

He gave you a sideways look. “One time.”

You shrugged. “Big explosion.”

Tommy let out a tired laugh. “You’re not takin’ my side, are you?”

“I’m not stupid.”

You both chuckled, though his laugh faded quicker. A silence settled. Heavy, but familiar.

“I think he’s still scared,” you said eventually. “About everything. About her.”

He didn’t have to ask who “her” meant.

Ellie.

Joel wasn’t the same man he used to be. Something about Salt Lake had taken the last soft part of him and buried it deep. You knew it was there that good part, that dad part, but it only showed up in fragments. In how he tuned his guitar. How he looked at Ellie when she wasn’t looking. How he avoided mirrors.

Tommy sighed. “He’s got you. He’s got me. He’s not alone. He just acts like he is.”

You leaned forward on your elbows. “Well. That’s Joel. Grumpy, guilt-ridden, emotionally constipated.”

Tommy grinned. “Just say you’re the favorite.”

“I am the favorite. Always was.”

“You think that just ‘cause you were the baby?”

“Because I was the best baby.”

Tommy snorted. “You bit me when you were four.”

“You deserved it.”

The laughter that followed broke something open in both of you. That familiar, crackling warmth from your childhood days in Texas. It didn’t erase the pain, the grief, the ghosts you all carried like second skins. But it made the weight more bearable.

Then, the door opened again.

Joel walked in, pausing only long enough to scan the room. His eyes landed on the two of you. He looked tired. Stubborn. The usual.

You raised your glass. “Well, speak of the gruff.”

He rolled his eyes and sat down across from you. “Y’all talkin’ about me?”

“Always,” Tommy muttered.

Joel grabbed the half-finished glass of whiskey in front of you and took a sip like he’d earned it.

You slapped his hand. “You can’t just steal my drink.”

He looked at you with that deadpan face. “I changed your diapers, kid. You owe me your entire life.”

“Gross,” Tommy muttered, standing. “And now I’m gone.”

Joel watched him leave, then turned to you, quieter now. “He thinks I don’t appreciate him.”

“You don’t say it enough,” you replied, more gently this time.

Joel nodded slowly, rubbing his knuckles.

“You’re not alone, Joel,” you said. “You’ve got people. You’ve got us.”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then finally: “Yeah. I know.”

You smiled. And for a moment, it felt like you were back home again. Three siblings, bruised and bickering and bound together by something deeper than blood.

#the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel tlou #ellie the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy tlou

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tibbythetiger · 2 days ago

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Finally finished my last finals, and I’m able to share my #sentryagent thoughts and head cannons!! Some of these are just random things I have thought of over the course of the past few weeks!!

One of my biggest things, is I LOVE the idea of John being the team “chef”, I think since taking the serum he really needs to up his calorie intake and he was used to cooking when growing up and while in the service so he’s happy to do it with all this space and money at his disposal. Once he discovers what Bob’s favorite foods are, he makes them pretty consistently. He’s also a kitchen HOG. He does not like to share his kitchen space with other people and it really frustrates him to be interrupted. He appreciates the others want to help, but DEAR GOD he just wants them to leave him alone. Well, besides, Bob. Bob however, decided he was going to be slowly inching his way into John’s orbit and by extension the kitchen. So, he starts by just saying hi to John in passing while he’s cooking, then brief little conversations. Eventually he starts to sit in the farthest corner in the kitchen, offering small commentary. Eventually he’s allowed to move to the other side, and before either he or John knows it, he’s perched on the counter in the corner and offered taste-tests and special snacks as John prepares meals. The others are jealous, and claim he’s playing favorites and then John points out the Bob is likely everyone’s favorite besides Alexi whose favorite is Yelena. They all agree and Bob flushes but continues to perch himself in the kitchen. Once they start dating, he gets kisses as John is cooking, along with his snacks and taste-tests.

I think another thing is that Bob is constantly running too cold. No one is really sure why, but he’s constantly freezing. John however, runs ungodly warm. It starts as a good excuse for them to sit close during movie nights, Bob simply stating that John is warm and it’s such a hassle to get all these blankets from his room. John allows it, but then thinking he’s helping, goes and buys Bob extra blankets just for the living room so he doesn’t have to drag his blankets back and forth. Bob is both touched, and mildly annoyed. He thanks John for the blankets and uses them religiously for a week, however, he does miss being pressed up against John during those nights on the couch and is debating how he can feasibly make the blankets disappear from John’s view so they can cuddle together again. Until one night, John plops down beside him, throw his arm around his shoulder and says “You’re so cold, you don’t mind right? Finally feel like I’m a normal temperature around you,” and well, Bob is as pleased as punch at that.

Before they start dating, and are just starting to get close, they have the whole “I’m sorry I called you Bobby, I wont’ do it anymore” talk, to which Bob lets John know, that while he appreciates that, he does enjoy John calling him that. John jokes that Bobby should have a special nickname for him then, and is a little starstruck when Bobby walks into the kitchen the next morning, perches himself in his little corner on the counter and says “Morning Johnny,” sleepily. This is one of the first moments John really wants to kiss Bob. But once they start dating, John is constantly calling Bob some sort of pet name, sometimes he just goes simple like “Baby” or “sweetheart”, he still uses Bobby and he’ll even jokingly call Bob his cheerleader every once in a while as well. Bob however, uses Johnny the most, since it’s something even Olivia didn’t really call John. He also will use Baby occasionally.

Whenever there is a high stress situation, John will physically put himself in front of Bob. Whether the heightened emotion is directed at Bob or not, he physically will act as barrier between whatever is occurring and Bob. One time, Yelena and Bob were joking and when John walked in he didn’t realize and moved between them. Yelena was annoyed, but conceded when Bob had put his hand on John’s shoulder assuring him that everything was fine. Yelena softened a little bit towards John after that, and felt more comfortable when she would leave Bob for longer missions.

I have plenty more!! But I’m just sharing these for now and will hopefully share out some more over the rest of the week. I’m seeing Thunderbolts* again on Saturday and I’m positive I will have more thoughts after I get to watch it again!

#sentryagent #voidwalker #bobjohn #thunderbolts*#tibbythetiger

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thana-topsy · 2 days ago

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Okay I saw this post a few days ago and saved it in my drafts because wanted to spread some Bosmer Love, especially because I have a big old soft spot for Bosmer guys. I have an OC and my two adopted NPCs who will be my forever blorbos, but first up there’s Uldwin!

He’s from my story “How to Build a Home (or Die Trying)” and despite having written that story like….5 years ago, I still re-read it now and then and find a lot of comfort in him as a character. He's charismatic and youthful, but not naive. He's the Dragonborn and takes his role seriously. (And also falls in love with Ralis Sedarys along the way).

Then my adopted boys, starting with GWILIN MY BELOVED:

I headcanonified him to be transmasc in my fic “Hollow Men”, and given his maybe 5 lines of dialogue, my version of him is pretty much an OC at this point. When I say this man saved me, it’s not really an exaggeration. He's optimistic and hard-working and chooses to see the good in life and in people. Holding him so gently.

And then lastly, and arguably the polar opposite of Gwilin, we have Enthir:

He’s slimy, he’s cut-throat, he’s sarcastic, he’s always looking out for #1 (himself), he’s got the same VA as Mercer which makes him sound like he smokes a whole pack of cigarettes a day… I love him I love him I love him. I wrote two fics about how fucked up and unwell he is and I’ll never not love him deeply because of that. I also headcanon him to be of mixed descent (based on some in-game dialogue), being half Altmeri, which gives him a fantastic inferiority complex.

Honorable mention goes out to Malborn, who I have made art of and has a feature role in “Hollow Men”, but I don’t like any of the drawings I’ve made of him. He's pissed off and traumatized and fucking hates the Dominion, but he's also powerless and terrified of a system that can make him disappear without a second thought. Everyone should try to make sure he doesn't die to that one troll when escaping the Embassy. (I reloaded so many saves because that man just runs up to that thing swinging his bare fists).

Also shoutout to that guy in Riften, Valindor, who has some heart-achey nostalgic lines about missing his childhood in Valenwood and wondering why he can’t just move on and move out of Riften and find different work.

Anyways, obsessed with Bosmer guys. They’re amazing and complex and, being a short king myself, I feel their plight lol.

Please add more male Bosmer OC love, I know @bosmerblood has my back.

You know what bugs me? Bosmer males. Look, idk how ESO does things, but from Morrowind to Oblivion they seem to be the butt of a joke that just says, aren't short men with squeaky voices funny and juvenile and stupid and ripe for mockery? (Fargoth, Gaenir, Glarthir, The Adoring Fan. I don't remember any Bosmer in Skyrim, but then I haven't played Skyrim since like 2015.) Plus there's that old lore about how the Bosmeri women are hot and the men are not, and frankly, fuck that. Where the short king Bosmer at? (Please share any cool Bosmeri male OCs with me.)

#topsy rambles #bosmer #bosmer ocs #gwillin #enthir #malborn

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batsandbirdbrains · 2 days ago

Text

The one where Robin is trapped in his own mind and the YJ team has to snap him out of it

I’ve def seen this one done before but there isn’t enough of it tbh

But let’s say the season 1 yj team are on a mission, and Klarion does some magic fuckery and traps Dick in an ideal world his own mind creates. And they end up getting Robin back on the bioship, but they have to be quick or else there might be real damage to his psyche or something and so M’gann psychically links them and they all dive into Robin’s mind.

And Wally is the only one who knows Robin’s secret ID at this point, so they’re all really shocked when they enter Robin’s mind and find a giant circus bustling around them. It’s a huge red and white tent, there’s music crackling in the air, the smell of peanuts and popcorn and cotton candy wafting, mixing with the dirt and hay and grass they’re walking on.

They can see people setting up attractions and stalls, and it’s still daylight out, and they all decide to take Wally’s lead and follow him around since he knows the most about Robin. They end up entering in through the back of the circus tent, and they see a group flying up on the trapeze.

That’s when a boy turns towards them, a frown on his face, his black hair messy and windswept, and Wally looks so sad for a moment

“Hey, no towners in the tent ‘til showtime!” the boy calls out, his words tinted with a slight accent. Then he looks up at the trapeze and calls, “Pa!”

“Wait, Wally, is that-”

“Yes,” Wally says quickly, not wanting them to say too much. Dick clearly doesn’t recognize them right now. They need to be careful about this.

A man climbs down from the ladder, a woman following close behind, and another couple are climbing down from the other side.

None of them look like they might be some version of Batman, the team notices. The builds are all wrong. The heights aren’t right.

One of the women speaks in soft French to the boy, and he glares at the team before he responds to her and turns to run out the back of the tent. They didn’t catch most of what she said to him, none of them as good with languages as Robin is, but they did hear her say in English, “Why don’t you go help Johnny with Zitka?”

The adults don’t waste much time, just telling them to leave and come back when the show starts, but they aren’t who they’re there for anyway. The team is quick to leave and try to find where the boy went.

They find him complaining to an older teenager, the two of them shoveling hay near an elephant. The elephant pokes them with her trunk every so often, making the boy laugh between all his scowling.

“See, Zitka wants you to cheer up,” the teenager teases. He has the same muddled accent as the boy. “Stop being a sourpuss!”

The boy shovels hay at the teenager, and they’re quickly both laughing and covered in dust and mud. The same woman as earlier rushes over, scolding both of them, brushing off their clothes. She’s telling them something in French again, then in another language none of the team recognizes, and they both clean up the area before the teenager pulls the boy along.

“Johnny!” the boy whines, but he laughs and tugs at the teenager’s arm.

“Dickie!” the teenager whines right back, a smirk on his face as he teases the boy. Then he turns his head and sees the team, and Johnny snorts at them. “Oh look, Dickie, it’s your towners.”

“They��re not mine!” Dick bites back, then glares at the group. “I told you to leave!”

“Rob, dude,” Wally says gently, “you’ve gotta stop.”

Both boys look taken aback, and Johnny steps in front of Dick, one arm held behind him to keep hold of his cousin.

“Why are you calling him that?”

“He’s Robin,” Wally tells them. “He knows he’s Robin.”

“Yes, he knows,” Johnny bites at them. “But how would you know that name?”

“Because he’s my best friend,” Wally tells them, looking directly at Dick. “Dude, come on. Please.”

“How can he be your best friend?” Johnny lets out of a huff of a laugh. “We’ve never even stopped in Gotham before!”

The environment changes abruptly, and the sky goes dark, and the wide open field they were in the middle of is now large lot surrounded by skyscrapers and busy city life. It startles the team, but the two boys look as if nothing happened.

“But you have been to Gotham before,” Wally says. “You stopped in Gotham five years ago. Robin, dude, I know you remember.”

“Stop calling him Robin!” Johnny argues. “You shouldn’t even know that name! No one outside the circus should know that name!”

Dick is clutching at the back of Johnny’s shirt, his knuckles white, his face pale. And the scene changes again, they’re inside the tent, the audience is roaring around them.

“Stop,” Dick whispers. “It didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Wally whispers back. “But it did. You know it did. You have to snap out of it, dude.”

“We’ve never been to Gotham,” Dick insists, shaking his head. “No one ever fell!”

Artemis gasps, because she recognizes him now, she knows exactly who he is and what they’re talking about.

Mr. Haly’s voice is like a faraway echo, announcing the grand finale of The Flying Graysons and their Flight of Death. The emphasis of them not using a net is ringing in all of their ears, and Dick’s face is pale and sweating, his breathing quick.

The world around them shifts again, and they’re all on a platform, watching as the rest of the Flying Graysons soar through the air. Dick has already jumped out, he’s swinging from his father’s grip, and a snap rings through the air.

“Pa!” Dick’s voice screams, but his father has already thrown him back to the platform. He lands in a heap, rolling once before he hits the pole. He’s quick to scramble to the edge, holding a hand out as he screams, “Mama!”

There’s thunder crashing outside, the sound of rain pelting the tent, and the world shifts again and they’re watching as their friend kneels in a puddle of blood, gasping, screams echoing around them as blood soaks into his glittering costume. His uncle’s head twitches, a groan leaving him, but bis cousin’s neck is snapped and he’s staring into nothing, and his aunt is mangled next to them. His parents are a heap of broken bones and blood.

The team is watching in horror, not sure what to do, how to react, how to help. The world around them is a cacophony of sirens and screams and shouts, they can see camera flashes in the corners of their eyes, the thunder is so loud.

But then a gentle, deep voice cuts through it all, saying, “You’ll be alright. Don’t look, just don’t look.”

And the world becomes quiet as they see Bruce Wayne kneeling next to Dick, wrapping his coat around him, and he holds Dick tightly, carrying him away as if he weighs nothing.

“I know,” he whispers to Dick, but it’s echoing in their ears. “I know, but you’ll be alright. I promise.”

A flurry of bats screeching and flying around them is the last thing they see before they’re all abruptly thrown from Robin’s mind, and he wakes up with a gasp. He can’t catch his breath, he’s having a panic attack. For several reasons, really. He just relived his family dying. He had, for a brief moment, seen what Johnny might have looked like if he’d lived to be any older than 13. And now all his teammates knew he was Dick Grayson and that Batman was Bruce Wayne, and it was all his fault.

But when they get back to Mount Justice and M’gann and Kaldur explain what happened to a very concerned Batman, Bruce isn’t mad. He’s relieved that Dick is alright, he holds him for a long moment, just glad that he didn’t get stuck in a fantasy.

#dick grayson #young justice #bruce wayne #robin #batman #wally west #kid flash #anyway I just think the survivors guilt would be 100000x worse if dick was actually in the air when the wires snapped and his dad saved him

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changingplumbob · 2 days ago

Text

One SBL post today. It's a long one so… grab a snack?

We landed in Windenburg around dinner time but I couldn’t eat. I was too nervous to see Melina. We had arranged to go to a local club to celebrate the album being released. I held her back as the others went in, taking the chance to talk to her.

Byron: You have no idea how much I missed you. How much I dreamed of hugging you

Melina: I missed you to Byron. Phone calls aren't the same

Byron: You have to know Meli... I love you

Melina: *smiles* I love you to

Byron: I really mean I love you. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I don’t want you out of my head. You said you couldn’t handle romance and school so I stayed back but we’ve both finished now. I want you in my life

I moved to kiss her but she stopped me, tears pricking in her eyes.

Melina: Byron... I’m so sorry. I thought I could... but I can’t

It felt like a ton of bricks were falling from the sky, hitting me with force and holding me down all at once.

Byron: But... Melina we love each other

Melina: We do. You are the best man I know. But... I just can’t

I had to sit down. I didn’t care what filth was on the ground. I didn’t have it in me to stand when I was being crushed from the inside.

Byron: I don’t understand. Is it Terry? Do you love him

Melina: What? No. There’s no one else

Byron: If there’s no one else then why can’t we be together

Melina: We wouldn’t last

Byron: You don’t know that Meli

Melina: Byron, I’m not coming back to San Myshuno

There it was. The truth I had prayed wouldn’t come to pass. If she could just come home with me, everything would be okay. My screw ups of the past three years could be overwritten because nothing else would be as important as me having her. But... maybe I could change? I had already changed so why not more?

Byron: You don’t have to come back to San Myshuno

Melina: What?

Byron: I’ll move here. I can have a home studio and just video chat with everyone

Melina: *tearfully* You would move here for me?

Byron: I would. I love you Melina

Melina: *through tears* What if I don’t want you to move here for me

Byron: What?

Melina: I thought I might but... Byron I listened to the album. It’s good. It’s better than good. You have a gift. You need to continue using it

Byron: But... I can keep using it here. Being here wouldn’t stop me

Melina: But it would stop me

Byron: Meli... I really don’t understand

Melina: I know your relationship with Autumn was fake. And I don’t blame you for wanting romance, I told you to go for it. But...

Shoot. Was it that I’d slept with other people when she wanted me to love only her? No that couldn’t be it, she said.... what had she said? Me moving here would stop her?

Byron: Please Meli, I would never stop you working. I know you love art history, I know it brings you joy. It wouldn’t be right for me to-

Melina: That’s not it... Byron... you’re going to be famous. Really famous, not just small time famous. And I’m so proud of you but... I can’t go on that journey with you. I wouldn’t survive the press

Byron: The press? They were just reporting stuff about me and Autumn because she’s a socialite

Melina: *sniffles* They weren’t. You’re young, attractive, and extremely talented. The press are interested in you, and they are going to keep being interested in you. They should be, you deserve it, but I can’t stand up to all that

Byron: Meli... come on, you’re like the bravest person I know

Melina: That’s... Byron maybe I don’t want to spend my life being brave. I want to be happy. I don’t want to have to be worried that if I eat a good meal people online will decide I’m pregnant. I don’t want to have to defend you to my friends and family when they see pictures of you with some hot model who is in a video of yours. I don’t want to have to constantly change my phone number to avoid news outlets bombarding me for news about why we’re not married, or not pregnant, or why I chose to wear one designers dress over another

We sat and stood in silence. The rain poured down fiercely and I felt like the heavens were screaming alongside the voice in my head. All the work I’d done on myself, making myself emotionally available… understanding that I wasn’t doomed to hurt her just because of my DNA… it didn’t matter. The woman of my dreams couldn’t see herself in mine.

Byron: *clears throat* You’re not going to change your mind? No matter what I say? Not even if I say I’ll give up music

Melina: You can’t give up music. The world needs your music

Byron: When we have lunch tomorrow I’ll-

Melina: We can’t have lunch tomorrow

Byron: But we love each other. Can’t we stay friends?

Melina: We’ve stayed friends these last three years and look where it’s gotten us. Far more hurt and broken than we were in the first place

Byron: Are you saying *sniffs* Are you saying we have to stop talking to each other

Melina: *through tears* Yes. Or we’ll never get over each other

I pushed myself up, barely registering what muck was on me now. It wasn’t important.

Byron: I’ll never be as happy as we could have been together

Melina: No. Byron please, you have to try. Try for me. Somewhere out there is a woman who will be lucky to call herself yours. Someone you will treat like a queen. Do not stop yourself from finding her because you dream of what we could have been

Byron: I don’t know how to stop dreaming about you

Melina: Neither do I... but we have to adjust

I started to sob and she pulled me in for a deep hug.

Melina: You will always be my first love. The guy I compare every man to. But I can’t follow you on the path you’re destined for

Byron: *through tears* I don’t want to be by myself

Melina: You’re not by yourself. You have wonderful family, and friends, people that can support you. But we’re not each others happy ending

Byron: I’m going to miss you every time I breathe

I don’t know how long we stood there embracing and crying as the dark sky fell around us. None of the gloom I felt before compared to that moment. I felt as though I was dying, my imagined future turned to ash and dust in the spaces between heartbeats.

Melina by @bloomingkyras

#struckbylovelegacy #sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #SBL02 #SBL02W11

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revelboo · 2 hours ago

Note

I really want to get sandwiched between meg and optimus, may I request some?

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

@drabbletron thanks for helping me brainstorm on this one

Interludes Pt 4

Megatron x Reader, Optimus x Reader

• “Lead by example?” Megatron mutters and Optimus vents at him. But doesn’t argue with him. And it’s still strange to see both factions, even neutrals, mingling with each other and humans. Head turning, Megatron watches a group of humans flock to Rodimus, flirting to try and get a moment alone with him. The thump of the bass and the strobing lights the humans like put him on edge, but there’s no backing out. He’ll never hear the end of it from Optimus if he does. And he doesn’t really think the other mech will go through with it, anyway. He’s not going to be the one to back down, though and he can’t deny some curiosity about the little organics. How long has it been since he’s let his guard down, took someone to his berth?

• Servos flexing as Optimus studies his people, it feels good. No more factions, no animosity. At least, that’s what he wants to believe. Realistically? Knows this peace is fragile that it can be destroyed so easily. And he’s afraid to leave Megatron unsupervised, afraid the former warlord is going to hurt one of the humans he’s set on bedding, because Megatron is right. They should lead by example. Which is why he’d approached him about sharing. So he can step in and intervene if necessary, because it’s hard to trust the former warlord. Unable to really forgive everything.

• Sweat slicking your skin as you slip off the dance floor and the scintillating press of bodies, you’d come so close to dragging one of the big aliens to a shadowy corner. Stretching your arms over your head, you turn and almost run straight into one of the giants, a massive hand wrapping around your upper arm to save from stumbling back and landing on your butt. And he’s big, his red and blue friend just as tall, both of them towering even over a lot of the other Cybertronians. Yes, please. Biting into your bottom lip, when he gently pulls you to your feet and your body slides against his heated frame to make his optics flare, you feel wicked. Because you know humans are like catnip to some of these guys. That they’re addicted to the feel of fucking humans and you’re curious enough to be willing to ride one of them into the dawn for the experience. It’s why you came here. Forgetting your shitty ex by getting under someone new.

• You’re a bold one, smile mischievous as you push yourself back with a hand braced against his modesty plating. Knowing exactly what you’re doing. “Looking for some company?” Megatron growls, because if he’s going to do this, he wants a willing partner who’s not intimidated by him. And you’re definitely that, knowing the fact that humans don’t know them, don’t know their reputation and that humans are ignorant to their millennia long war, makes them even more fun for Cybertronians to play with.

• “Always,” you purr, voice low as Megatron leads you to the counter to get a room token and he follows. Not about to leave you and the warlord alone. You’re so tiny next to Megatron. “Are we making it a party?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him and his venting roughens. Because, it’s certainly occurred to him. That the war’s over and he’s allowed some fun. A respite. ‘Do you mind?’ He asks and you grin, reaching to grab his servo in a small hand. “I like parties.”

• Two of them? Your friends aren’t going to believe you. You can’t believe it yourself. Letting the gray one open the door and usher you into one of the infamous backrooms, knowing some people would kill to be in here. Glancing at them as you start stripping, the gray one is watching you, but the red and blue one is frowning at him. Tension? Maybe they’re not friends. “I’m Megatron and this is Optimus,” gray rumbles, jerking a servo at his buddy. Definitely not friends and you wonder what the story is. “What’s your name, little one?” Those red optics slide over you hungrily as you walk backwards to the plush bed and sit, thighs spread slightly in invitation as you tell them your name. And they’re both staring now.

• Smirking at the way Optimus is staring at you as you ease back on your elbows, he slides a palm over your thigh, pushing one of your legs up against your chest, momentarily fascinated with how flexible you are. Still half expects you to change your mind as he frees his spike, his hard length resting against your belly as he leans over you and for a moment, there’s a worry about you being able to take him. And you’re laughing at him like you know where his processor just went as he curls his hips, sliding the underside of his spike against you. Feels you grow slicker with every slow, torturous slide. Startling when you hook your other leg against his hip and he shifts against you, the head of his spike slowly stretching you and your breath hitches. Growling a warning as Optimus drifts closer and sits near you. Watching him. “Oh, you’re big,” you whimper as he sheaths himself and you’re all wet heat, so unbelievably tight around his spike.

• Can’t look away as Megatron begins moving against you, hearing your breath catch and the wet sound of the former warlord’s spike pumping inside you as you make little, needy noises. And he imagines how you’d feel wrapped around his spike, feeling like a voyeur as he reminds himself that he’s protecting you, making sure Megatron doesn’t get too rough. Doesn’t mean to free his own spike, to fist himself watching Megatron begin to move faster, hips rocking against you as you moan encouragement.

• One’s jerking himself off, the other’s spike stretching you until you feel every ridge as he ruts against you. And Megatron pins your thigh tighter against your chest, hips pumping as those optics lock with your eyes and it’s too intimate. Doesn’t feel like a casual fuck anymore. Not when his expression softens into something needy and frightening. Because emotion isn’t supposed to be a part of this. Hips rolling as he sheathes himself and cups your hips to lift them a bit, you’re coming apart suddenly, crying out as he smiles down at you. Looking almost affectionate as he keeps bucking until he’s snarling with his overload to fill you.

• Venting raggedly, he reluctantly slips free and your legs fall against the side of the bed. And he growls when Optimus slides off the bed, flips you onto your belly and sheaths himself. The prime’s hips pumping urgently, obviously pent up and taking it out on you. Not that you’re complaining. You’re moaning, fingers fisting in the bedding as Optimus ruts against you with barely controlled strength. Before snarling, hips rocking frantically as he overloads and collapses onto an arm over you, venting loudly. “Apologies,” Optimus growls, sounding horrified with himself and you look back at them. ‘How soon before you can do that again?’ Primus, you’re perfect. Because if you liked that, he can definitely do better. Frag you so thoroughly you won’t be able to stand and then he can carry you home. Fragging keep you. “My turn,” he snarls at Optimus and the Autobot leader growls a warning, hips rocking against you, not wanting to leave your wet heat, yet.

#transformers x reader #megatron x reader #optimus prime x reader #megatron #Optimus Prime #valveplug

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bejeweledinterludes · 2 days ago

Note

when you're back from your break, it'd be really cool if you wrote headcanons about Dean raising Sam :) I feel like the fandom forgets that Dean is basically his dad sometimes and I think it'd be interesting to see how Dean acted like a dad at such a young age 😌 things he did, ways he protected Sam, idk, stuff like that :3

(obviously there's literally no pressure to write this, I just really love and respect your headcanons and style!!)

(p.s. just to make sure you know: in no way is this prompt related to Wincest 🤮)

ooo wait i love this omg and thank you for clarifying no wincest lol bc i will NEVER support or write about it. i hope i did your request justice, and thank you so so so much for your sweet words!

DISCLAIMER: this really should go without saying, but i’ll clarify it anyway in case anyone wants to think otherwise— in absolutely no way am i romanticizing or aestheticizing what sam and dean both went through as children or adults. while supernatural is a tv show, and sam and dean are fictional characters, real people and children experience domestic violence, neglect and abuse in the our world every single day. please do not read or interact if you are sensitive to these topics.

██████████████████████████

❝ long as i’m around,

nothin’ bad is gonna happen to you. ❞

OR my headcanons of dean being a single mom who works two jobs (aka raising sam while also raising himself)!

『 part 7 of @bejeweledinterludes’ headcanons series. 』

‧˚₊⋅ ──── faith’s tell-all. to everyone who’s ever shown my writing love / support, thank you to the stars and back— it means everything and more. also, i’ll be leaving again, perhaps for good. all i’m gonna say is that my thoughts / emotions aren’t doing good at all right now, and this app is the cause of it (for the first time ever). obviously, i don’t like feeling this way, and i certainly don’t want it to reflect in my writing / my actions on this app, so i’m probably gonna dip. i don’t really like talking about my feelings (in general, but especially on here) or asking for pity, so i’m not going to bother y’all with that. anyways enjoy this one, hopefully see ya soon <3

𖤐 ────────────────────────

> “protect sammy,” was the only thing dean remembers from his younger days for the most part. only thing he knew. i could delve into the absolute nitty gritty, the abuse, the hardships, the burdens that both sam and dean endured, but if i think too hard about it, i get mad— because no child should have to raise another child. ever.

let me be very clear on that, and this: most of the family dynamics in supernatural are not healthy by any means— but they are a reality for many, which is one of the reasons why people resonate with the show.

> now, throughout the show, we can see that dean is potrayed as somewhat of a father figure / guardian type— from regular children to monster children, to ben, jack, claire, kevin, etc. maybe more of a ‘fun uncle’ type situation, since he’s told kids (and thus, the audience) time and time again that he is not someone to look up to, or to become. which is a double edged sword.

because on the one hand, dean has a point: he’s self-deprecating, an alcoholic, has a temper, treats people like shit, and makes rash decisions that usually end in violence or a shattered bond.

but don’t think that’s everything. dean’s self-deprecating because that’s all he knows. and how the hell else would he treat himself? he’s an alcoholic because everyone that was around him drank when he was a kid— and the father figures in his life didn’t promote sobriety at all. he has a temper because when he can’t control things, that means he can’t control the outcome. he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen, and that’s why he gets so angry all the time. he treats people like shit, mostly because the ones he does treat like scum usually deserve it. the rest are because of his big stupid mouth. the rash decisions come from a place of pure panic, fear, and worry about his family— instilled in him since the night his house went up in flames.

now, all this to say, dean is a good person, deep down. because we see all throughout the show that dean wants to be better, to stop being the way he is when emotions do eventually get the better of him, to stop the habits he’s created.

> and it’s no secret that dean winchester was forced to raise sam— yet i feel that it’s severely overlooked in the show itself. sure, we do see flashbacks once in a while of a young dean taking care of a young sam, but people (including myself) brush over the fact that this was pretty much every day for dean. weeks, months, years, a decade? taking care of his brother, always before himself. let’s dive into my mind of what i think happened:

> dean stole for him and sam. obviously, yes, we all know this, since it’s canon from the show— but that was dean’s ever first crime: shoplifting / petty theft. the cop let him go, though, until one of the next towns a few months later when dean got too cocky with the cashier and smartmouthed the deputy. that landed him in a holding cell.

> dean also protected sam at school. and yes, once again, this is shown in the show, but dean was a grade-a menace when it came to his brother. shit talk dean all you want, call him anything you please, but if his brother was brought up? he blew a gasket, and the dude’s lights out. every time.

> dean did all the talking (and still does, sometimes). anywhere he and sam went alone in his younger years, dean’s mouth was the only one that was moving. diners, motel lobbies, libraries, restaurants, dive bars, pubs, you name it. sam was too nice to talk to strangers— and dean learned early on that strangers aren’t doing something ‘just to be nice’. ever.

dean’s mistrusting, down to his last nerve ending— but if his dad’s with them, he can relax. otherwise, it’s eyes everywhere, making sure they won’t be messed with.

> dean made the most of everything. we see this in the christmas episode (the flashback to their younger selves) and the fireworks memory in dean’s heaven. his main priority, if not to protect sam, was to cheer him up. keep him happy. maybe not distracted— but to take his mind off of the real world. we all do it, dean just made it easier for his brother to do so.

but sam wasn’t totally clueless, obviously— he’s smart. maybe an idiot sometimes, but not outright dumb. he knew there were things that dean and john didn’t tell him, but he didn’t press when he was younger—because sometimes, being oblivious to things was kinda nice.

this changed as sam got older, as we know. sam noped his way out of there the second he got a chance. and while dean was mad that he left— he was happy for him, too. because sam did it. he got out.

> dean definitely is / was a ‘do as i say, not as i do’ type when it came to sam (and pretty much everyone else too). dean was a bad influence, yes, but he never let sam just do whatever he did. back then, dean drank, smoked, the whole nine yards to fit in, be cool, whatever— but best believe if sam wanted to try any of that, dean shut down that idea immediately.

> that sums up most of dean’s side, though. because sam was the one who was too good, too nice, too soft— and dean wanted him to stay that way. because he wanted sam to have a normal freakin’ life (cue that speech dean gave sam in like… season 5?), to have a family. dean didn’t think he could have, or deserve that. besides, who the hell would take him?

(it’s me. i would take him)

───────────────────────── 𖤐

🏷️ list : @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bruisedfig @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 @0ccvltism @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @lunaleah @saintfaux @kimxwinchester @bettystonewell @honeyyxxbee @harlekin705 @megara0224 @ej13928 @missus-ackles

#faith’s works . . . @bejeweledinterludes!#supernatural #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn headcanon #sam winchester #young dean winchester #young sam winchester #spn

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dokkamj · 2 days ago

Text

HEAR ME OUT!

⚠️ Note: Due to some misunderstandings and assumptions that may have come off as disrespectful, I want to clarify that this story is set during the second year of college — meaning all characters depicted are 19–20 years old. Please keep in mind the post is tagged 18+, and the context should reflect that clearly.

saw this on my TikTok today and i do really can’t help myself but write a fiction about it, i know my topics are usually and only COD, but if you won’t mind sometimes me switching on something else lmk.

i think that armin and nerdarmin are two completely diff people, like the alterego or sum shi and man this is how i see nerdarmin👌🏻

this might can be a bit out of character 🥀

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE sorry for eventual grammars mistakes.

MDNI! this is a 18+ story, so as my whole profile this content contains: strong explicit language, sexual content explicit, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll.

I FREAKING LOVE THIS.

art credit on TikTok: musapylsa

“nahh are u serious him??” your friend asked with a giggle, even if the whole school saw you as a heartless bitch, a popular one, your best friend sat just in front of you knows that you are sweet as chocolate.

“why that long face?” you ask back, rolling your eyes, the topic was, ,cute boys i would sleep with’

“because you are gorgeous and he is just—“ she turns around to look at Armin, baggy jeans t-shirt those glasses... “so nerdy…” she sighed, your speciality was to fell for losers literally.

“he is so pathetic i love it” you giggled, its been weeks you tried to catch his attention but it was like, he wasn’t even aware that you were teasing him all around.

when both of your gazes meet you just bit down you bottom lip nervously. “i wanna talk to him” you announced.

“gosh no do not—“ you can hear your friend calling out your name but too late, your heeled boots where already tapping on the ground.

flare jeans, rolling stone t-shirt, that witch aura of yours and your hips swinging where already in front of Armin.

“Hello” you smirked, you were short too that’s why the heels, you reached his height and maybe a bit more.

“i— uh” he looks at his feet muttering your name, he was full aware of who you are and how many stupid ass guys follows you around like pets trying to have their sweet threat, at least one thing that he admires about you is the fact that instead of being like the others girls that sleep around here and there, you never.

at least… he never heard anything about you. “sorry if i disturb you” you said shoving your hands in your back jeans pocket “i just wanted to ask if maybe you could help me with math you know” you said trying to act as innocent as possible.

oh the only desire was to eat him alive.

“can’t Mikasa do it like she usually—“ you stopped him “i— actually asking you because i want someone that have a softer approach to me, that i struggle a lot.” you nodded, you where hella good in math but you really don’t know what excuses invent anymore.

he sighed, looking in to you completely, wow you where such a fucking pretty woman that everyone would show off like a trophy.

“i guess i can of course” he gulps down that strange feeling, no one beside his small group of friends talks to him in school so it was unexpected.

“uhm do you prefer idk, your house or mine?” you asked, looking at him for an answer “i uh my place sounds good,” he nods.

you hand him your phone “give me your number so we can accord when” you nodded and he shyly type in his phone number.

later after some classes you texted him ,hey i’m y/n so this weekend??’ the response came up fast, you wasn’t surprised he was always on his damn phone. ‘your place is good, i mean if this is okay,

you bit your bottom lip ,ok Friday evening? i live alone so no worries’ you texted back and forth nothing special, but you liked him, and it made you laugh how he was trying to approach you with respect and sweetness.

Friday came up really quickly and no one was aware of your evil plan, or at least no one knew you really liked that boy. Opening the door he was there, his hair tied in a little low messy bun, glasses loose on his nose, hoodie and jeans with converse.

“oh hey” you smiled, hugging him even if he didn’t hug you back but that was ok? you guess. You two started with math problems and he didn’t know how but you ended up teaching him.

he let his glasses rest on top of his head “sorry i mean you are even more better than me why did you asked me for teaching?” he rise up a eyebrow and you gulped.

“it was just that— you seem cute and i was just thinking what if i get to know you better??” you explained quickly “ah really?” he giggles, then smirked.

“poor y/n, you didn’t have enough attention?? you don’t like pretty boys that salivate at the sight of your ass?? why do you want me? so cruel to yourself to end up with a fucking looser like me?” he asks and your eyes widened you clearly didn’t see that coming.

“cat got your tongue? huh?” he stood up as you remain frozen on your chair in the living room. He stepped in front of you, his hand come up to grab your chin “what? did you want this?” he bend down and the second later his lips where against yours.

He took off his glasses and let them slide on the wooden table, you couldn’t help but kiss him back, with that passion and fire that you usually hold back. “who is the pathetic one, tell me” he bit your bottom lip “answer me y/n what the fuck.” he ansimate against you.

“me, fuck i’m sorry i needed to be more clear with my intentions.” you mumble, his hand on your bare tights, your pajama was doing such a bad job keeping you hidden.

“good pretty girl.” he murmurs, in all of this you kept kissing him back, and your hands slides down his hoodie, touching his bare stomach, you could tell he actually workout, not a lot but still.

and in a bunch of minutes he was on top of you on your bed, legs spread, shorts on the floor and panties tucked to the side as his slim fingers slides into your folds “already sucking me in so deeply?” he teased licking the outline of your lips and you moaned.

“pathetic.” he said almost proudly, this was a joke, the nerd with no friends and no social life was fucking you like a greek god? this was a damn dream. Mornings ago you were the one calling him pathetic and now? He got you creaming his fingers.

your legs tremble “yes this is how you like it mh?” he muttered, fingers deep and curling up inside of you as his thumb was playing with your clit he spits down just to lube that pretty bean of nerves to get you spasm against him before coming heavily. Hips jerking back and your gasps became screams.

“ah so this is your weak spot.” he tortures your clit mixing to the fact that you just came everything seems more sensible, overstimulating. “please— need you” you mutter shamelessly.

“no pretty girl, i decide here” his lips against your neck sucking heavily to leave hickeys to mark her, his cock was painful in his jeans but he wasn’t ready to let himself go yet, he wants you painfully undone.

he goes down on you, making you position your legs on his shoulders before he starts to slurp on your wet cunt, making you spasm and tremble following by his hand pressing on your lower belly to keep you down as the other was playing with your clit and his tongue slapping against your folds.

you taste fucking heavenly. That acid but sweet and your own perfume made him roll his eyes back into his skull, goddamn. And you cried as you came another time screaming his name like a slut that you where, at least at the moment.

He stayed there for a minute observing his masterpiece, your cunt dripping juices on the bed sheets your clit puffy and overstimulated and your legs still spasm from the orgasm.

“i think you are ready here.” he smirked his hair messy his body clean and neat almost like he did knew what he was about to do tonight, “bastard” you muttered to yourself.

when he take off his jeans and boxer, you gulped down, it was long thick enough to get that sweet spot scratched by him. “what you staring at? wanna a taste mh? say A” he smirked again, bringing you onto your knees on the floor as he stood before you.

“com’on be gentle mh? and suck on this dick” before grip on your hair to bring your mouth on his tip, you obey because hell this guy could make your cunt happy and you wasn’t going to say no.

you open up like a whore and swallowed him whole, making him gasp and rest his arms on the bed as he start to move his hips against your mouth “fuck” he mutters almost pathetically.

you could see how his moods shifts, sweet and rough, rude, then kinda fucking pathetic, and why does this turns you even more on?

“enough, com’here” he demand, helping you to go back to lay on the bed, your legs open wide for him as he was settle in the middle “so..” he begun “condom?” his tip slides sweetly on your clit “or no condom?” his tip now on your folds slapping it making your cunt doing those wet shame sounds.

you wined gasping for air, it was a torture but a goddamn sweet one. You swing your hips to get more friction even tried to lowers yourself on him to suck that cock with your cunt.

“i don’t fucking care Armin, fuck me and shut that nerdy mouth.” you came up with a little comeback too frustrated as you clench around nothing.

he smirked and exposed your chest before go all the way in, with only a trust making you curl up your toes and gasp and he moaned because he didn’t expect you to be this wet and this fucking tight.

“oh gods” he rolls his hips back and forth and his pathetic personality was coming back you could see it as he whines against your neck slapping his hips against yours as you moaned loudly.

“oh— fuck yes” you moaned encouraging him to go even rougher, your hands in his hair as he bites your breast angrily, the slaps sounds grew louder and more irregular. Your legs shook and Armin grabbed the occasion to overstimulates you by bringing his fingers to his mouth to lube them and torture your clit.

“com’on, i know you can do that…” he suggested but you clearly was too much wrapped up in your own feelings that you didn’t really heard him. And before you can knew it the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks making your eyes roll back your legs spasms and your cunt squirting as he kept pumping into you before pulling out and stroking himself to release on your folds.

and that shit? made you even more turned on and you didn’t even knew how that was possible.

“what the fuck.” you gasped looking at him “what? never done that before? or— you didn’t know you could do it?” he asks with a smirk.

okay who is this guy? because the Armin you knew?! completely disappeared! completely wrong!

“how did you—“ you mumble “you know being a nerd and reading a lot, if you put that together with some sexual education books and, well that’s the result” he points at the mess making your face redden more than it already was.

“you done this before?” you asked breathing heavily, “i mean yes but you are my best masterpiece.” he smirked slapping on your ass playfully.

You spent the night together, and he was the sweetest soul you ever meet, the dom Armin? gone. It was like he had problems with personalities, well for what you just experienced with him.

the morning after he was there, handing you a mug of coffee “show together? i can massage your back.” he said with a shrug and you just pinch yourself because you still think this wasn’t true.

“how did you even know how to make coffee with my machine…” you said sleepy “tsk i just search the brand and scroll in their site find your machine—“ he cut himself off “just nerd things.” he said.

you smiled “you keep surprising me” your giggles filled the room suddenly, and if for you was like winning the lottery, for him it was like he just found heaven on earth, and it was a woman named y/n.

this is how you two ended up being a real couple, a damn weird one, but things worked because yourself too have so many interests like the videogames. Still today you try to understand how much he is just strange… a moment it’s the cute nerdy Armin and the second layer puff he is all horny and all over you.

#fanfic #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin x you #armin x y/n #aot #armin aot #nerd armin #smut #smut fanfiction #attack on titan #shinjeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren aot #aot armin #aot fanfiction #levi aot #levi ackerman #smut story

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blessedbucky · 2 days ago

Text

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕏𝕀

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 16.7k (yapper of the year right here!)

summary: your first date with Satoru and onward

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, FLUFF! ROMANCE! with a lil bit of seriousness sprinkled here and there; two new guests join the cast! you'll never guess who they are; more awkward first times because not me having reader take suguru and satoru's virginities lol; giggly and sappy sex!

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: i've completely given up and accepted that i'm gonna do this year by year until the prologue/present which is 2012. it might be a little while before the next chapter because i promised myself and my MCU girlies that i'd get out the next chapter of my MCU trio story after i posted this. just as a reminder that you're more than welcome to send me messages on here, headcanons, questions, and prompts that maybe i can get to. feed my praise kink with reblogs and comments and likes please and thank ❤️

Story Masterlist

[2009]

“Things might be a little awkward when Satoru comes over,” you warn Suguru when Nanako and Mimiko are out of earshot. The three of them are helping you unpack things. Well, Suguru is. The girls are in the second bedroom with tape, their drawings, and other little knickknacks. You warned them that Tsumiki and Megumi would be sharing it, too, and potentially decorating it with their own things, but that didn’t deter the twins whatsoever.

Suguru, folding your clothes the way you like, stops to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes. “Oh, no. Did you reject him?”

“No, of course I didn’t! I said yes!” A minute passes, your brain processes, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Did you know he was going to ask me out on a date? How long has he been planning this?”

“I started actively encouraging him to go for it since that marriage proposal, but who knows how long he’s been wanting to do it before then.” Something about how…casually Suguru speaks about this…stings a little. It shouldn’t…right? What’s causing this twisting in your chest? “Don’t make that face at me. I think we were allowed to keep this one thing a secret from you.”

Right. Right, yeah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You feel left out. That…still doesn’t feel right, but what else would it be? Suguru knows you better than yourself, sometimes. He’s always been able to put into words what you’re feeling. “I’m shocked he didn’t do it immediately after the proposal,” you say while trying to laugh off your discomfort. “You know Naoya set the date as his birthday on purpose.”

Suguru sighs wistfully. “I really wish I mauled that asshole with a curse when I had the chance.”

“Suguru,” you try to scold but end up giggling instead. “Don’t waste a good curse on that guy. Besides, turning down the proposal through a letter was more poetic, I think.”

“More offensive, you mean,” Suguru corrects with a smug smirk. “I’m so proud of you for standing your ground like that against your parents and those arrogant assholes.”

“I’m shocked they didn’t make some backroom deal behind my back, honestly.”

“I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, but you get your stubbornness from your father. Satoru really dealt a huge blow to his ego with that implication that they were only in it for the money. He didn’t want to prove Satoru right,” Suguru hypothesizes.

You pause in your unpacking, blinking in disbelief because…he’s right. “That makes sense, actually,” you mumble. “Wow. It’s crazy how well you know my family.”

“It goes both ways. I overheard you and your mother, y’know.”

You stiffen before trying to relax your body in feigned nonchalance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Suguru laughs. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not upset.” You sigh in relief, immediately dropping your bravado. “You fold so easy, Squid,” he snickers. You throw a pair of pants at him, but he easily catches them. “I’m honestly not sure what I would’ve said to her if she asked me.”

The conversation in question had been when your parents stopped by at campus one more time before they went back to your hometown. Before he stalked off to talk with Satoru and Suguru, your father explained that he told the Zen’in clan you’d make your own decision and inform the clan in due time.

Privately, your mother told you that Suguru’s own parents had been over to your childhood home more and more frequently, practically begging your mother to get Suguru’s phone number from you so they could talk to him. Suguru’s mother had an accident in the field and can’t work. They’re on harder times than ever and your mother said that it would really cheer them up to hear from Suguru.

And like Suguru said, you know his parents as well as he knows yours. You saw through the bullshit but gave your mother the benefit of the doubt—even though she’s even bigger than your father on the belief that children should be responsible for taking care of their parents, no matter what.

So, they’re in trouble and need Suguru to bail them out, you translated when she was done with the sob story. You had absolutely zero sympathy for them. If he wants to talk to them, he knows how. You’d gotten petty with her, then. I’m not getting involved and you shouldn’t want to, either. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? We don’t want to poke our noses in the business of other families.

“That’s stupid, isn’t it?” Suguru asks with a bitter smile. “Why would I say anything other than no? Last year, they were one of the first ones that I thought about…seeing…after we found Nanako and Mimiko…”

Seeing, he says, but he means killing, doesn’t he? You can’t say you blame him. If you’d had better control over your technique when you were younger, you’re not sure what you would’ve coerced spirits into doing to his parents. “I don’t think that’s silly,” you tell him honestly after thinking about it for a minute or two. “If Satoru didn’t step in, I was about to let my parents walk all over me. And…I don’t know…it’s complicated.” You sigh in aggravation over not being able to find the right feeling. “Maybe it’s just me, but you always want to try and see the best in people, especially your parents.”

“It might be just you. Maybe. I don’t think there’s much good to be seen in them. But I…they always make me feel small. Just your mother mentioning them made me feel that way. Your father wasn’t helping, either.”

Ah. That reminds you of something you forgot to ask. “What did he want with you?”

“I’m not sure it was me he even wanted. He probably wanted to lecture Satoru, but after he gave Satoru his card back, Satoru wouldn’t let him get a word in. I never thought I would see the day that the Gojo Satoru would have enough of a moral high ground to give someone else a lecture, but here we are.”

“No wonder he was so pissy when he came to collect mother…”

“Satoru’s protective, isn’t he?” Suguru ducks his head, smiling softly as he says that. It’s tinged with something, though.

“Why are you upset, Suguru?” It’s bitterness. Maybe sadness. His eyes widen, so you know you’re right. “Is it because you didn’t say something? You know you don’t have to feel guilty about that,” you rush to assure him. “You know the rule. Satoru doesn’t. Just because we’re technically adults now doesn’t mean our parents can’t still make our lives difficult. Mine, anyway. My father’s probably going to give me an earful when his pride has recovered a little.”

“It’s…a little bit of that,” Suguru says after a beat. It feels like a lie, though. His smile is still strained and it’s not reaching his eyes. “I wish I could protect you like Satoru can.”

“You do,” you insist.

“That’s why I told him to finally confess.” Suguru completely ignores your comment. “Satoru is as good for you as you are for him. He understands you in a way that I’ll never be able to.” You start shaking your head which makes him barrel on. “It’s the difference between sympathy and empathy. I’ll always be sympathetic for you, I can know your moods and the things you love and hate, but only Satoru can truly empathize with you.” He looks at you, expression softening, and rushes over to take you in his arms. “Squid, don’t look so devastated.”

You lift your arms up between your bodies, trying to wipe away the tears that are welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel left out.”

“You’re so silly. I’ve never felt like that before, I’m not going to start now.” You press your forehead against his chest, sniffling and trying to calm down before you really get going. “All I’m trying to say is that I want my two most favorite people to be happy and taken care of and I think the best person to do that for them is each other.”

“When you say that it makes it sound like you’re leaving us alone,” you admit.

“The way I feel about you two isn’t going to change, trust me.” He keeps rubbing your back soothingly. “This isn’t the right time, but this is really reassuring for me, y’know.” You tilt your head up, digging your chin against his chest, blinking up at him with watery eyes. He grins shyly. “I know I’m never going to be left behind.”

“Never,” you promise. “You’re our favorite person, too.”

Suguru cups your cheek, sighing softly. “You’re too sweet for someone like me, Squid.”

You miss his touch when he goes.

Date Day arrives.

You still haven’t decided on what the fuck you’re going to wear.

Shoko, who is way too invested in your love life, comes to your rescue, bright and early. The visit is disguised as helping you finish unpacking and settling into your new apartment, but it’s bullshit. She knows that you know it’s bullshit. First of all, she knows it’s Date Day. Secondly, the moment you shut the door behind her, she manhandles you back to the bedroom to help with your hair.

“There’s no need to do all this,” you mumble petulantly while watching both your reflections in the mirror she has you seated in front of. The previous tenant left one of those floor length mirrors on the back of the door. You’re cross-legged on the tatami mat with her on her knees behind you. “It’s just Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?” Shoko pointedly moves her gaze to the reflection of your bed and the clothes strewn across it. “If that’s the case, why are you so worried about your outfit?”

You harrumph and turn your head away, not wanting to admit she’s right. Only half-right, though! Because, in your head, there’s this pendulum that continually swings between this is just like any other normal day with Satoru and this is absolutely not a normal day with Satoru because he likes me, and this is a date. Giddiness and nervousness had you tossing and turning the whole night through. You’re desperately trying not to overthink everything and you’re proud to say that it’s mostly working.

“I don’t even know why you’re so excited about this,” you say as a deflection.

Shoko puts her hands on your temples, forcing your head back to position, before continuing with your hair. “I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You drop your eyes down to your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, but it doesn’t stop the happy flutter in your tummy at being acknowledged as her best friend. It always does that when Shoko says best friend. You’d think you’d be over the novelty by now. “And I need to keep rubbing it in your face that I was right. The only thing as big as his ego is the crush he’s had on you. It’s been four years of pining, Duck.”

“It hasn’t been that long!” After a second of thinking, you doubt yourself. Clearly, you haven’t noticed the signs and were totally blindsided by his confession. Hesitantly, you ask, “…has it really?”

She laughs. “Yes, really. Halfway through second year, I started a betting pool on who’d confess first. Even Sensei put money down on it, but he made me swear to never tell anyone else.”

“You’re literally telling someone right now—” your brain finally catches up on what she just said, and you start sputtering. “Stop using my love life to make money!”

“Consider it financial compensation for all the ridiculous romantic tension.”

Where’s mine for the tension between you and Utahime, you think but refuse to speak aloud. The tension between them was so horribly awkward at graduation. Even Satoru didn’t pester Utahime like he usually does…but he might’ve been too nervous to do that with the planned confession and all. Anyway, Shoko remains resolute in her resolve to keep Utahime distant—not for a lack of trying on Utahime’s part to bridge the divide.

There’s some hope yet, though. Utahime brought gifts for you and Shoko. Yours was a set of new sketching pencils. Shoko’s was a new lighter. Shoko didn’t outright reject it. Instead, she left it behind in a classroom. You’d found Utahime with it, tears in her eyes and looking so miserable, so you took matters into your own hands. You pointedly left it by her pack of cigarettes when she was moving into her new apartment.

It’s the only lighter that Shoko uses now.

“Hair’s done,” Shoko announces. You awe over her work, careful not to touch it for fear of messing it up. She shoots you a smug smirk in the mirror. “I’m gonna go two-for-two and find you an outfit.”

Find you an outfit she does.

You swing your arms from side-to-side, watching as the pleats of your black pinafore dress swish with the movement. You’re wearing a simple long-sleeved white shirt under it. There’s even a cute little bow at the waist. It’s been sitting in the back of your closet ever since you got it back during your second year. You’d bought it during a shopping spree with Utahime in Kyoto. Your brain hasn’t let you wear it because you haven’t had any occasions it deems special enough.

Today is definitely a special enough occasion.

Shoko probably planned this, but she keeps you distracted in the chunk of time between when you’re done getting ready and when you’re buzzing Satoru in the building. She settles in with the new laptop that her parents bought her as a graduation gift, and you know she’s going to be spending the night. She says as much when you announce Satoru’s on his way. She needs to know how the date goes.

In the genkan, where Shoko can’t see you, you have to take deep breaths before opening the door for Satoru. And put a hand over your heart, like that’ll make it slow down. It’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, you chant to yourself over and over inside your head.

It’s just Satoru and…he looks very handsome.

Oh, no.

This is like your second year all over again when your body decided it was time for a sexual awakening.

It’s not like you haven’t been aware that Satoru is attractive. But it always felt…forbidden, somehow, to think of him like that because he was your best friend. It’s easier now. You’re allowed to look because it’s you that’s doing it and Satoru likes it. He likes you. You can openly let your gaze roam over him in his denim jacket with the plain white shirt underneath, dropping down to his jeans and nice shoes.

And you think he likes when you look at him the way you are because he’s grinning when your eyes finally move back up to his face. “Like what you see?” Satoru asks with a waggle of his brows.

Knowing it’ll fluster him, you bluntly answer with, “Yeah.” It’s pleasing to see how red his cheeks get. As you’re slipping on your shoes, you call out to Shoko. “I’ll text you on my way back about what you want for dinner!”

“Okay!” Shoko calls back. “See you later!”

“What’s Shoko doing here?” Satoru asks after you close the door behind you, having recovered from your flustering him.

“If you asked her, she’d probably say something like we did girl things. If you ask me, she made me into her own personal little doll.” You pause to spread your arms out and do a little twirl. “How do I look?”

When you stop, he’s flushed but grinning. “Like the most beautiful little doll in the world. I can’t believe you got all dressed up just for me.”

The compliment has the back of your neck prickling with heat. “Jeez, you don’t have to lay it on so thick. I’m already here on the date with you.”

“It’s not laying it on thick,” he denies with that cute little scrunch of his nose. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Now, I’m allowed to tell you without it being weird. Get used to it.” He leans forward a little, getting all up in your space, poking at your cheek. “And if we’re on a date, what’s with that homewrecker in there getting to have dinner with you? What if I planned a whole day full of date stuff, huh?”

“I am not doing a whole day of public things.”

“Maybe I planned to cook you a four-course meal for dinner tonight.”

“Cooking for me implies you’ve completely unpacked. Last I checked, you were too busy putting your figurines in their designated places and eating takeout. Has that changed?” He crosses his arms over his chest, that scrunch in his nose only getting bigger. “That’s what I thought.”

“I regret this.”

“Watch it, Gojo. You’re being scored right now and it’s getting reported to Shoko when I get home.”

“Eh? Is that why she’s really at your place?” Satoru rolls his eyes. “Why can’t she worry about her love life?”

“Shoko wants to pretend there is no love life.” You sigh, your worry for Shoko blowing all the wind out of your sails. “I just really wish one of them would tell me what happened between them. In more detail, I mean. I know Shoko got too drunk and confessed and then Utahime rejected her, but…Shoko doesn’t seem like the one to hold a grudge about that.”

Satoru hums before oh-so-casually dropping, “Probably has something to do with Utahime not being out to her family.”

You’re so stunned by this piece of information coming from Satoru that you almost slam into a light post. It’s only because of him grabbing your upper arm and pulling you out of the way that you don’t. “What? Huh? How—” he blinks owlishly down at you, like he’s confused that you’re confused! “How do you know that? I don’t even know that!”

“I’ve known Utahime since we were kids. Have I not told you that?”

“What the hell? No!”

“Oh. Uh, well, surprise! She was always in my ear about how I needed to take my etiquette lessons seriously or else I’d be a shitty clan leader. Man, she could get downright nasty with her critique.” He’s back to pouting when he realizes, “Aw, c’mon, have you thought I’ve been a dick to her this whole time for literally no reason at all other than she’s weak? How lowly do you think of me, Sketch?”

“You tormented poor Kiyotaka mercilessly last year.”

“It was some very light bullying to get him the hell out of sorcery. That guy had one foot in the grave and—hey! You’re on first name basis with that guy already? What’s up with that?”

“Focus, Satoru, please.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. Yeah, I’ve known her a long time. Her clan is super useful because of their technique, so they’re buddy-buddy with the big clans. Just like all the old clans, they’re traditional as hell, and she’s an only child. Eh, I think I heard a rumor that there’s an engagement in the works between her and a Kamo. Who knows the hell she’d raise if she threw that all away to live in sweet lesbian bliss with Shoko?”

Your brows furrow. “Shoko is actively making plans to cheat her way through medical school. Being the mistress might make her a little sore, but…she doesn’t seem like the type to have that be a dealbreaker. She really loves Utahime.”

“Yeah, it’s probably that Utahime is too noble to let Shoko be the mistress. She’s a goody-two-shoes like that.”

“Goody—” you scowl at him. “Don’t make fun of her for that!” The dynamic between Utahime and Satoru makes a lot more sense now. You understand why she always turns down your offers to make Satoru back down. She gives back as good as she gets, but this isn’t a time for him to make fun of her. “That is noble and kind of her!” You think of a way to make it more relatable to him, to help him really understand her plight. “That would be like you making Suguru be your dirty little secret while you’re married to me. Do you think Suguru deserves that?”

Satoru puts his hands over his heart, batting his lashes, gasping dramatically. “Talking about marriage already? I’m swooning, Miss Sketch!” You stare at him, deadpan, mentally begging him to take this a little more seriously. “What? That’s the only realistic part of that scenario! There’s no way that I’d keep you or Suguru a secret. It sucks that I couldn’t legally marry you both at the same time, but I’d definitely have a ring on both your fingers.”

“My hypothetical might’ve been flawed,” you mutter to yourself. “Imagine being engaged to Utahime, then.” You ignore his very loud ew! “You’re both an only child. The continuation of your clan’s bloodline rests on your shoulders. Personally, I don’t think she should care. Traditionalists love to preach about the survival of the fittest except when it’s things like this. Bloodlines come, bloodlines go, and the jujutsu world keeps spinning.”

“Exactly!” Satoru agrees. “But, my darling Sketch, there’s one more flaw in your logic—” he taps your nose playfully, “—both me and Utahime have cousins to carry on the bloodline. So, there’s honestly nothing holding her back. She’s making her life and Shoko’s difficult for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” you argue. “Ignoring the fact that change is hard for everyone, Utahime getting cut off from her family is a lot different than you getting cut off from yours. You’re a Special Grade. You can easily make enough money to support yourself without your clan’s money. It’s different for her. And…other than their traditional ways, she does love her family. It’s hard to leave that all behind.”

Satoru sighs loudly. “Life is just easy mode when you’re Gojo Satoru, huh?”

“I have to agree. Other than having to fit your massive ego through doors, it’s easy going for you, isn’t it?”

“Mean!”

Satoru refuses to tell you what he has planned for your date. You know he’s proud of himself for what he’s picked out, so you’ll indulge him, and don’t push to ruin the surprise.

The train is packed.

He’d asked ahead of time if you’d be okay to use public transportation. He’s braver over text, so he admitted he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, no warping if he can help it. Even Shoko, who was looking at your phone over your shoulder, gave an aww, that’s cute. Then, she’d ruined it with, he’s such a dork.

You don’t want to admit defeat and say you overestimated your ability to deal with crowds today. It’s the weekend before school starts, so you should’ve expected that families and teenagers would be out to enjoy their last moments of freedom. There’s no room to sit, so you’re left to stand alongside everyone else, sharing one of the dangling handles with Satoru because everyone else has one.

At the third bump of someone against your body, you try to reason with yourself that it’s only six stops until yours. Satoru gave you that much of a hint. You can handle it. You refuse to ruin this date because you’re too much of a baby to deal with a crowded train.

As the train nears the first stop of six, your body locks up, preparing for the rush of people who are going to touch you. You’re trying to not visibly grimace in front of Satoru. Trying not to be too obvious with your discomfort because you know he’ll ask if you want to go home. You don’t want to be babied. You want so badly to have a good day. To have your mind and body cooperate with you for once.

“Still up for me touching you?”

“Huh?” You blink out of your mental spiral and tilt your head up toward Satoru. He repeats the question. “Oh, yes, of course. As long as it’s you.”

“I’m gonna test something out.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What?”

Satoru shushes you. “It’s another surprise,” he whispers. Then, his big hand is slipping around and cupping the back of your head. He pulls you forward until your forehead bumps against his solid chest. His other arm moves around your shoulders. The unintentional…or maybe it’s intentional, actually. Anyway, because his arm is there, it’s kind of a barrier between you and the people who bump against you from the back.

Immediately, the tension bleeds from your body. This closeness to him, this being surrounded so wholly by his presence, is something to ground you. You can catch a hint of his body wash and bury your nose further against his chest, chasing the sweet smell. It’s subtle, like your own, because you both hate overwhelming smells. Even his deodorant isn’t powerful. No cologne or body spray—he learned his lesson after that buying that one American body spray when it was released in Japan.

You wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily. You think that’s it, that he’s using his body to block people, but when the train comes to a stop, something happens.

There’s a little surge in his cursed energy before its shifting. It bleeds out, blanketing you. What happens next is hard for you to describe. It’s weird. The people around you both knock into you, but they also don’t. Your brain registers it, technically, but…it reminds you of magnets, almost. That subtle resistance of trying to push two of the same polarity together that only grows the closer you get the two magnets with each other.

It takes you a stupidly long amount of time, until the next stop, to realize that this is Infinity.

“I finally figured out how to do this,” Satoru murmurs in your ear when the noise of everyone filing in and out dies down. “It was by studying you, actually. It’s familiar, right? Does it feel like a blanket?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly, still in awe.

“Good. Now, if we’re ever out and you’re sick of all the bullshit, I can share this with you.”

And Satoru sounds so proud of himself for learning this. For you. There’s no other reason, tactically, that he would need to extend Infinity to someone else. What did he say last year? He’s been looking at you with his Six Eyes for four…no. It’s been five years now. He’s always been watching you, studying your idiosyncrasies, making note of your pleasures and aversions, and going even deeper to learn the flow of your cursed energy itself.

This twisting of your heart is almost unbearable, but you don’t want to be anywhere else right now other than in his arms. Such an odd feeling that has your body at odds. You breathe in, exhaling shakily. There’s a little wobble in your knees that makes you lean further against him…or maybe that’s just an excuse. You can’t hear his heart with the noise of the train on the tracks, but you feel the rapid thump of it against your cheek. Just as fast as yours.

Now, the counting down of the stops until yours makes you sadder rather than relieved. You don’t want to leave his embrace and not just because of Infinity. Ever since everyone’s gotten their own apartments, spending the night in the same bed has slowly dwindled down. You can’t even remember the last time that you and Satoru were together. You miss it. You want to go home now, only because you want to curl up with him in bed.

But that wouldn’t be very much fun for a date…

“Sorry,” you mumble embarrassedly when you’ve both finally gotten off at your stop. “I should be better at this by now.” You chew your bottom lip nervously. “I know it’s probably awkward for you, being with a grown adult that can’t handle public transportation.” Why are you suddenly so anxious right now?

Satoru squints at you. “When have I ever cared about how you act in public?”

“Um…” You cringe. “Never.”

“Right. And it hasn’t changed, by the way. So, did I do something to give you the wrong impression?”

“No! But I can’t remind you of how sorry I am?”

“Nope, because I don’t want your damn apology when there’s nothing to be sorry about. Jeez, you act like you’re making some big spectacle when all you’re doing is getting nervous.” In the middle of the station, like it’s no big deal, he hunches over to bump his forehead against yours hard enough that it leaves you yelping and clutching at that place. “What’d I say to you last year, huh? Every single part, Sketch.”

I want all the parts of you, even the ugliest ones.

Oh.

As Satoru snatches one of your hands to yank you into motion, leading you toward the exit of the station, the truth barrels into you as fast and hard as the train you’re leaving behind. It took five long years for you to finally catch up with reality, but you understand now. You get it. These declarations of his, all those private and precious moments with him, they’ve always made you feel a certain type of way. Sometimes, it feels painful with how your heart twists up inside your chest. An emotion that you’ve never been able to name always builds up inside you, leaving you jittery and restless because you have no idea what to do with all that pressure.

Finally, you can put a name to it.

And that’s what your massively stupid fucking heart decides to do. Out loud. You’re both stepping out under the sun when your mouth moves before literally any other part of your body, especially your brain, can catch up with it.

“I love you.”

You jerk your hand away from his slackening grip, slapping your hands over your mouth as if that’s going to turn back time and let you swallow back up that very heavy thing you just threw out there. Satoru heard. Oh, you wish he didn’t, but he definitely heard over all the noise because he’s slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Briefly, in his profile, you see his wide blue eyes.

Actually, he’s so shocked that his Infinity isn’t up because someone physically bumps into him and sends his sunglasses clattering on the ground because they were slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry!” It may be a cold day, but you’re burning from embarrassment. Balking under his heavy gaze, you rush to pick up his sunglasses and put them back on his face for him. But then you realize that’s a very intimate thing to do to another person, no matter how many times you’ve done it before, and almost drop them again. “Forget I said that!” You shake your hands, rocking from side to side because of all your buzzing anxiousness. “We…are we late for the date? We should hurry! Right?!”

Satoru’s mouth opens, closes, and the process repeats two more times before he squeaks, “Yeah!” He hesitates. Does the open-close mouth thing again and you’re terrified that you fucked everything up. Genuinely petrified. Then, so loudly that people start to stare, he announces, “Okay! Yeah! Nothing wrong here! Let’s go!”

Through Satoru’s nervous chattering, as he’s dragging you away, you hear an elderly woman sigh fondly and coo, “Ah, young love.”

“A cat café?”

Satoru cringes. “Do you hate it?”

“Are we here for me…or for you?”

He sputters, cheeks turning red. “I’ll have you know that I’m a dog person!”

“Yeah, but it fits your—” you gesture vaguely at him, “—vibe.”

He squints down at you. “I feel like I should be offended.”

Both of you resolutely not talking about the thing that happened, you now stand outside a new cat café—as announced by their little announcement board placed on the sidewalk. You remember when news spread of the first one opening in Osaka back in 2004, you think it was. The idea of it absolutely delighted you…and almost every other teenage girl, you suspect. Suguru hadn’t gotten the appeal of it, but that’s because his parents didn’t care if he interacted with the stray cats like your mother did.

With the hustle and bustle of high school, though, you kind of forgot the existed until now. You’ve never been to one. In an instant, your excitement for them is renewed and you grab Satoru’s hand, excitedly tugging him inside. You listen dutifully to the employee that greets you both for the appointment Satoru scheduled.

You never knew the logistics until now. For the most part, the cats are all free to pet and interact with. Don’t pressure the cats if they don’t want attention. There are signs scattered around detailing cat behaviors. The café is also an internet one, so there are usually salarymen and college students on their laptops working alongside the cats, but don’t be shocked if some of them decide to barge in on your keyboard. There are treats, both human and cat, available for purchase. The cats also have toys scattered around that you can use to play with them.

Just before you’re set free, you’re shown a wall with pictures of all the cats. “All of them are up for adoption,” the employee chirps. “Ah, but before you go in…well, we were wondering if we could use you as test subjects in exchange for unlimited access to the bakery and drinks.”

You’re not able to look at all the pictures, glancing over at the woman with a tilt of your head, curious about what kind of experiment a cat café can possibly have. “Test subjects?”

“A pair of cats were recently brought to us from the shelter. We’ve been trying to get them adjusted to human interaction—”

Satoru worriedly asks, “Are they dangerous?” You’ve got to hide your laugh as a cough, covering your mouth. There’s no way that he’s seriously asking that, right? Has Satoru forgotten that you’re both sorcerers? It’s as cute as it is perplexing.

“We think that one of them may have been abused, so he’s…cautious of humans. That’s only when he’s by himself, though! If his partner is with him then he’s usually okay! As of right now, they’re a package deal, but that makes adoption harder. We’ve been letting them adjust to human contact with a glass wall separating them from our guests. Since it’ll be only you two for the first half of the day, we thought this might be the perfect opportunity to introduce them to human contact again. This way, they won’t be immediately overwhelmed.”

“Half the day?” Satoru is pointedly not looking at you when you snap your head in his direction. Your eye twitches, but you bite your tongue because you’re both in public. But, oh, the lecture you’re going to give him later will be of epic proportions. Turning back to the employee, you force a smile while she’s blinking in confusion. “I’d love to meet them.”

After signing a waiver and another employee taking your drink orders, you’re finally allowed out into the larger area. There are a few cats that are there to immediately greet you, some weaving through your legs. The space is large but designed in a way to provide privacy if you need it. The cats themselves have so many cat trees and ledges to lounge on. There are even baskets hanging from the ceiling. There’s an area separated from guests for the cats to eat, drink, and sleep in that they access by way of pet doors.

As the employee is introducing you to some of the cats at your feet, Satoru is munching on a taiyaki. He dutifully holds yours when you pass it to him so you can bend down and start petting the cats with the employee. You’re listening intently as she’s introducing all the cats.

“Oi!”

Something thumps down on the floor next to you, grabbing your attention before you can whip your head around to check on Satoru. The cat that’s now next to you can best be described as a cotton ball. It’s so fluffy. The bright, blue eyes that it stares at you with are a little…unnerving. But you’re not really sure why you feel that way. Maybe it’s because you didn’t realize cats could have such an intense eye color?

“Toru!” The employee gasps.

At the same time, Satoru is snarling at the cat, “You little thief!”

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself.

As the employee is babbling apologies to Satoru, you pluck your sunglasses off the top of your head and hold them in the air. It isn’t near the cat, of course, because you don’t want to upset him by getting grabby. You angle them, though, so you can see what the cat would look like with them on. They’re not like Satoru’s at all, but they’re dark like his.

The cat isn’t even eating the taiyaki. He ignores the chastising employee and Satoru, drops the taiyaki, and approaches you to flop down in front of you and show his belly. Even his meows are demanding. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was staring Satoru dead in the eye with glee and defiance.

Oh, so that’s why you’re unnerved.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” you whisper in awe. Louder, to interrupt the employee and Satoru, you ask, “What characters do you use for his name?”

“To steal,” she explains with a sigh of resignation. “This is one half of the troubled pair.” Yes, you suspected as much. “It’s not that he doesn’t play well with other pets! He just…”

“Annoys them?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess,” you answer deadpan while trying extremely hard not to look at Satoru.

“And, well…even his previous owner, a very kind elderly woman, admitted that she spoiled him too much when she was forced to turn him over to the shelter. She was in poor health and her daughter wouldn’t let her keep him. He loves treats. He steals them from the other cats. The behavior is improving, though! He shares…only with his friend…but it’s progress.”

You reach out to take his little paw between your fingers. All the stray cats in the village taught you that a cat showing their belly is almost always a trap. “Where’s the other—”

There’s a chirp before another cat is rubbing up against your thigh. “Right…there?”

The employee is baffled that her supposedly human-averse cat is greeting you willingly. You are baffled because…okay, this is just ridiculous! If there’s a god out there, they decided to give you the most blatantly obvious signs to adopt a pet today. This cat is as fluffy as his counterpart, but with black fur instead of white except for one spot. It has a patch of gray fur that falls over his eye like a scar…or a bang.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to rub one of his ears that, worryingly, has a hole in it. His hackles briefly raise, but he quickly leans into the touch. “You think he was abused?”

“The shelter said it could’ve happened in a fight with another cat,” the employee says while eyeing the cat with the same skepticism you do. “Fights with other animals usually end up with split ears or bits taken off the edge. Nothing like this.” The holes are jagged, yes, but only as if someone tried cutting a circle in too flexible material. Way too precise to be the result of another animal.

“Poor thing,” you coo while scratching him under his chin. He purrs. His counterpart, Toru, meows in offense before leaping right on the black cat’s belly. You’re quick to pull your hand away when they start tussling. “Are they, uh, brothers?”

“No. It’s shocking, considering they’re the same rare breed,” the employee answers with a chuckle. “They’re both Norwegian Forests! Toru came from the elderly woman and had been at the shelter before Gato got there—”

“Gato?” Both you and Satoru repeat at the same time with the same incredulity.

“Oh! Yes, that’s the other cat.” She points to the black cat, not knowing that that’s not what you and Satoru are really questioning here. “Gato means cat in Spanish and the person that saved him was a Brazilian exchange student. It’s a bit unoriginal, but the shelter thought it would be nice to honor the person that saved him.”

“Portuguese,” you correct.

She tilts her head. “Eh?”

“Brazil’s official language is Portuguese.”

Behind you, Satoru asks, “How do you know that?”

“I had a language learning phase in middle school. There’s a large Brazilian community in Japan.”

The employee gasps. “Oh, no! Did we give him the wrong name?”

You try to recall the basic words you’d learned. Portuguese and Spanish have a big overlap with each other. “No, I think Gato is still right.” She sighs in relief. “Um, if you don’t mind me saying…he doesn’t seem very…uh…human averse,” you remark as Gato, having escaped Toru’s shenanigans, slowly approaches you again for pets.

“Maybe all the work we’ve done is paying off,” the employee muses as she slowly reaches down to join you in stroking Gato’s fur. Two people at once must be pushing it because he hisses and swats at her hand before throwing himself right in your lap. He even tries climbing up your shirt, claws digging into the fabric. “Or not,” she adds while cradling her hand to her chest.

“How old are they?” They look full-grown but Gato’s shirt clinging behavior strikes you as kitten-like.

“We know for sure that Toru is a year old. Gato is a little harder to pinpoint down, but the shelter suspects he’s around the same age.”

“Is that…fully grown?”

“Hmm, well, that’s a little more subjective with cats. With smaller breeds, yes. A bigger breed like the American Maine Coon isn’t fully grown until they’re two. They’ve sexually matured, though, but just barely.” She giggles. “If you wanted the human age equivalent, they’re about fifteen.”

This poor employee must be so confused when you can’t take it anymore and burst out into laughter.

Satoru, though, understands. “Sketch, no,” he growls.

But you’ve already made your decision.

Shoko hasn’t stopped laughing since you returned home with Satoru and cat supplies in hand. You’re only a little embarrassed, but Satoru was the one to pay for the adoption fees, so he clearly wasn’t that upset with how the first half of your date day turned out.

The café was kind enough to keep the cats housed for another few days while you readied your apartment for them. You also have to notify your landlord so the pet fee can be added to your rent, but the office is closed on the weekend, so you’ve got to wait until Monday. You think the café will wait as long as possible because they were really worried that Toru and Gato wouldn’t ever be adopted. It’s hard to have someone adopt two cats at once, let alone one as hostile as Gato.

Satoru and you are back in your bedroom, cleaning up the explosion of open bags and packages from the cat tower and toys that you’ve spread around to greet the cats when you bring them home.

You’re shoving blankets inside the carriers to make them more comfortable when Satoru quietly asks, “Did you mean it?” It’s been silent for a few minutes so you’re not sure what he means. You turn to look at him, but his head is ducked down, watching his fingers that fiddle with the hem of his pants. “What you said when we got off the train,” he clarifies.

In all the excitement with the cats, you totally forgot how you almost blew the date before it even started.

You debate on whether to lie or not. You don’t want to do that to Satoru, no matter how soul-crushingly embarrassing this might be. It’s fine. He likes you. He’s said as much. As long as you clearly state that you don’t expect him to feel that way for you right now or ever, for that matter. Relationships, especially young ones, don’t always work out. Satoru would never be cruel to you just because he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Do you want me to? I don’t want to pressure you.”

Satoru is silent before quietly admitting, “I want to know if you feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “You…” It feels like the breath has been punched out of your lungs. “You…me…” The power of your brain must’ve gone to kick your heart into overdrive because you can’t even form coherent sentences now.

You’re not the only nervous one. Satoru’s normally cold hands aren’t a balm for your scalding hot cheeks today. No, his hands are definitely sweaty when he cups your cheeks. His face is red, too, but he’s brave. So brave. Staring at you with those sparkling blue eyes, he bluntly confesses, “I’m in love with you.”

The breath catches in your throat. “Really?”

He laughs shakily, knocking his forehead against yours. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old.”

“I’m in love with you, too.” And you hold both his cheeks in your sweaty hands. “I don’t know how long, but I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

“It’s okay. I’m only in this for your banging body, anyway. It’s fine if you’re a space cadet.” You snort before breaking out in a fit of giggles. “There,” he breathes out. “That’s the ticket. You’re so pretty, Sketch. Can I kiss you now?”

“After you just called me stupid?” You’re the one to knock your forehead against his. “Yes. You can kiss me.”

Satoru does, even though the first part of it is just the both of you grinning against each other’s mouth. You’re in an awkward position, so you get up on your knees, turning your body toward him before you kiss him again. You didn’t know how much you missed this. His soft lips and sweet taste. He has no confidence in this and it’s endearing. It makes you feel special, that you get to learn with him.

“What was my date rating?” Satoru asks between kisses.

“You did pretty good,” you answer coyly.

“Good enough to be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, that was pretty smooth,” you concede with a laugh. “Yes, Satoru, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Girls, it’s time to go.”

Mimiko, with Toru cradled in her arms, appears in the kitchen doorway. “Just a little longer, Mister Geto? Please?”

After drying his hands off completely, Suguru settles them on his hips. It’s such a mother-like pose that you have to bite your lip to keep back the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “Everyone has school tomorrow, Mimiko. You’ve been with Miss Squid all weekend long. We should let her have some time alone.”

Nanako comes barreling into the kitchen, wildly throwing around her arm while insisting, “It’s not time! We always go home at six!” She points at her little pink plastic watch to emphasize the point, though she’s moving too fast for anyone to see.

Suguru sighs in irritation, throwing you a nasty look that has you smiling beatifically in response. You’re not apologizing for adopting two cats desperately in need of a home. Suguru and Satoru are simply biased because they think the cats are out to get them. Never mind that Satoru was there when the employee explained that Gato was abused so that’s why he has a hard time warming up to people.

It’s been a month now. There was a little delay where Gato had to warm up to the girls, but now that he has, it’s only a matter of time before the novelty of them will wear off.

“We’re leaving earlier because we’re walking Tsumiki and Megumi home,” Suguru explains patiently.

“But—”

“Girls,” you interrupt while mirroring Suguru’s hands on the hips. “Do you remember how you needed lots of alone time when you started living with Suguru?” Their little faces grow solemn, but you feel like this is an important enough lesson to instill in them. You’ve been noticing Gato hiding away more frequently as the weekend has stretched on. “Gato needs that alone time, too, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Squid,” they both answer. Thankfully, they have a determination in their eyes rather than lingering sadness. “Will you tell Gato we’re sorry if we made him made him scared?” Mimiko goes on to ask.

You smile. “Yes, I will.”

As the twins are collecting all their things, Tsumiki slips into the kitchen with you, shyly asking if she can help you as you make everyone a bento for tomorrow. It might take a little longer, but you happily accept the help. You’ve learned that she really loves to cook, and you want to foster that. You even bought some cookie cutters to cut vegetables into cute shapes. It’s cute to watch her little brows furrow in concentration and hear her grunt as she tries to force the cutter through vegetables and fruits.

“What happened to Nanako and Mimiko?”

“Hmm?”

“You said they needed lots of alone time. Was it because they were sad?”

“Ah. Well, it’s not really my place to say,” you explain gently. “You’d have to ask them.”

She pauses, shifts uncomfortably, before she quietly confesses, “I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“I know they don’t like me.”

You step away from the table enough to crouch down to Tsumiki’s level. She turns her body toward you, but keeps her head ducked down, as if she’s in trouble. “Have they said or done something to make you feel like they don’t like you?” It’s important that you know what they did so you can talk to their therapist about it. Their therapist used to be a sorcerer, so she’s been able to help them with their distrust of non-sorcerers more effectively than a regular therapist, but they’re not perfect.

“No!” Her head flies up, eyes wide, and she waves her hands nervously. “I mean…yes? No? I…” She struggles to explain herself. You wait patiently. “They…um…they’re better friends with Megumi. They don’t have things to talk about with me like him.” She wrings her hands in her dress. “It’s okay! It’s always like that. I know I’m really boring and plain. Everyone’s always liked him better. I know he’s really special. I’m…I’m really happy he has people now who are like him!”

Happy, you mentally repeat while watching her with a forced smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Do you feel lonely, Tsumiki?” She shakes her head furiously. You reach out to take her hand in yours, squeezing as a show of comfort. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

“I have Megumi,” she argues with a trembling voice.

“I know you do. You can have all the people in the world around you and still feel lonely. You feeling lonely doesn’t mean you don’t love him any less.” You drop to the floor completely, crossing your legs. You take her other hand. “Do you want to know a secret?” You don’t wait for her to answer. “I’ve felt the same way as you do, all through my life. I still do, sometimes.”

“But you’re not like me at all!” Tsumiki protests. “You’re pretty and cool and so, so nice!”

“I am.” It’s taking a lot for you to not start crying yourself. Jeez, is this what it’s like for Suguru and Satoru being on the other side of your self-loathing? “Jiheishō—have you heard of it?” She shakes her head. You didn’t think so. “My brain works a lot different than everyone else. I was the only person in my village that had it. I had Suguru, but there were days when I still felt lonely. Satoru is like me, but he doesn’t…um…we feel it different ways. And he and Suguru are so strong.” You smile softly. “See? I know you’re not a sorcerer, but we’re still a lot alike, right?”

She nods while rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.”

“I don’t, either. That’s why I didn’t talk about it for a long time. But it hurt Suguru and Satoru more that I felt so bad for so long without telling them about it.” She’s still conflicted. You empathize with her to the point of pain. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell anyone else right now if you’re not ready. I know about it now, so if you ever feel sad or left behind, you can talk to me.”

“It…it’s really okay for me to bother you?” Tsumiki asks hesitantly.

“It’s not a bother. You’re not a bother, Tsumiki.” For so long, you felt like a bother. On your bad days, you still do. A child should never have to feel that way, especially not one with as beautiful a soul as Tsumiki. “I really enjoy our time together. It’s fun to cook with you and I want to do it a lot more.”

She gives a wobbly smile through her sniffles. “I love to do arts and crafts with you and Mimiko and Nanako. I want to be as good at drawing as you are.”

“I’m excited to see how far you go,” you tell her honestly. “Would you like a hug before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

“Come smoke with me before I leave, Squid.”

Ugh. You know that he and Satoru definitely overheard the conversation with Tsumiki because they’re super nosy. There’s no way out of it. You’ll have to deal with them both. Might as well get over it. “Megumi,” you call out politely, “Can you help your sister finish up?”

“Sure,” Megumi answers from where he’s on the couch with a book.

Suguru goes ahead to the balcony, waiting until you’re outside and slid the door shut behind you to light a cigarette. “I’ll try to be better around her for you,” is the first thing he says.

Your eyes narrow. “Have you done something to make her feel unwelcome?”

“No…but I haven’t gone out of my way to make her feel included, either.”

You sigh. ��If it’s too hard for you to be around her so much, I won’t bring them over to your place anymore.”

“No. I…I genuinely do want to try.” He breathes out a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t realize until listening to you with her that I had made so much of my identity sorcery. Part of the reason why I want to be a teacher is to make sure that students aren’t faceless cogs in a machine, but I’ve done that very thing to myself.”

“I get it.” You step beside him where he’s leaned against the railing. “I’ve done it, too. We worked so hard to make Satoru stop seeing himself as a weapon, but then we went and made ourselves feel like one.” He nods in agreement. “I didn’t realize that I was doing that with drawing. It became an extension of my technique, became a chore instead of a thing I love. It wasn’t until I saw the girls do it and love it themselves that I remembered why I’d even started doing it in the first place.”

“I want to buy a record player.” He laughs. “Remember the times we’d lay around and listen to the radio?”

You sigh nostalgically. “I miss that thing. It was one of the few times you actually doodled with me.”

“I’m not gifted with art like you are and I’m too much of a perfectionist. I hated that I wasn’t immediately good at it like you were.” He pauses, glancing off into the distance, pensive. “I like cooking. I love to provide for everyone.” It’s an olive branch, of sorts. Something for him to use to better connect with Tsumiki.

“The problem with jujutsu society,” you start slowly, “is that we’ve cut ourselves off from non-sorcerers. It’s easy to stay away from them. It’s hard to be close with people who can never know about this massive part of your life. We save them. They have no idea that we do which breeds resentment while, at the same time, causing us to feel superior to them. You and Satoru are perfect examples of the end result. Two side of the same coin—resentment and superiority.”

Suguru studies you for a few minutes, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he asks, “How do you do it?” You tilt your head to the side, confused. “How come you’ve never resented them?”

“I wouldn’t…exactly say that. Hmm, it’s not resentment, I guess. I definitely feel unappreciated, but I also understand why they can’t know.” You rock back and forth on your feet. “The truth is, I’ve walked hand-in-hand with resentment for my whole life. I’ve resented my mind. I envy people who can walk in their world without trouble, both sorcerer and not. But…I always had you. We connected as sorcerers, in a way that no one else in our village could understand. During our first year of high school, I met Satoru and connected with him in a way that you could never understand. That’s what it’s all about, I guess.”

“What? Connection?”

“Yeah. Sorcerers can pretend they’re not all they want, but we are all connected by the human experience. That’s the very least. I know that there’s going to always be something that connects me to another person, something that we can bond over. I’ve craved to be understood all my life, so why wouldn’t I try to understand another person—sorcerer or not?” You nod to yourself, satisfied with your conclusion. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“That’s it, she says, while giving some groundbreaking wisdom,” Suguru says with a huff of disbelief.

“You’re just being dramatic now.”

He sighs, snuffing his cigarette out in the tray that you bought specifically for him and Shoko. “No, you just never give yourself enough credit.” He smiles softly. “I promise to keep working at it.”

It’s a Sunday, almost three months into your relationship, when you wake before Satoru does.

Thank goodness, you groggily think. You’ve been worried about him. It’s the dead of summer now which means a rise in cursed spirit activity. It’s not until now that you realized how easy the higher-ups were taking it on you all in high school, even with both Satoru and Suguru at the Special Grade label. Headquarters no longer cares about Satoru’s status as a student. And now that it’s July and summer break for him, the higher-ups go even harder.

Over in the corner of the room, Gato and Toru are still curled up, asleep. They’ve become your little alarm clocks, but even they seem to want to sleep in today. It’s the right kind of idea. With a soft, happy sigh, you wiggle back to bury yourself further in Satoru’s arms. It’s only then that you suddenly become aware of something poking against your ass.

Satoru moans softly in his sleep before he starts unconsciously grinding against you.

You’re not totally clueless. You know that, usually, if someone has a dick, it gets hard in the morning. Actually, you’ve seen and felt it before with Suguru. Before your parents totally banned him from sleepovers, he’d roll over when you both woke up and you’d sometimes catch a peek of the tent in his shorts. When he started sneaking into your dorm room in high school, you’d feel it, too. You were always polite to just never bring attention to it.

But in all the years that you’ve slept in the same bed as Satoru, he has never gotten hard around you. That, paired with the fact that he was never hard when you two made out, and you’d assumed that he simply doesn’t feel sexually attracted to you. It was any easy thing to accept because you’d gone so many years without feeling it yourself. It wasn’t until you were in high school for the switch to your libido to turn on. Before these past three months when you think a little too hard about Satoru, you think the last time that you’d felt a hint of lust was that July afternoon when you and Suguru took each other’s virginities.

Bodies do what bodies do, though. Unless you’re thinking about Satoru, getting off feels like cleaning out the pipes. You figure that’s what’s probably going on here, but you don’t want to…you’re not actually sure what. For some reason, it feels wrong to let it happen without his knowledge. Natural bodily reaction or not. You think you should wake him up.

Satoru has already beaten you to the punch. Hips still moving, he sighs as happily as you did, softly murmuring your name. You wait for him to process the situation. You’ll follow his lead—not mention it unless he brings it up. “Mm, feels good,” he whispers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

And that does it for you. It sends a shiver down your spine and has the place between your legs throbbing. “Good morning,” you greet hoarsely. At the sound of your voice, Satoru freezes. You crane your head to the side, trying to glance at him over your shoulder. He is, predictably, turning so red that you’re worried there’s going to be steam coming off him. “Don’t freak out,” you say ahead of time, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not!” Satoru shouts defensively, voice pitched high in distress. You’re not focused on that, though. Because suddenly, you stop feeling his dick against your ass. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if he had pulled away, but he hasn’t. While his hips are still pressed against the curve of you, you just…stop feeling the hardness of him.

“What the—” Satoru is faster than you, scrambling away while you’re rolling over on your other side. With narrowed eyes, you watch him as he’s now propped up against the headboard, covers carefully placed over his lap along with his hands. “What did you just do?”

“I’m going to go feed those little heathens.”

Oh, okay, you see how it is. He really wants to play this game, huh? Fine. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He hesitates before weakly suggesting, “You can go back to sleep now.”

“No. I’m awake now,” you reply coolly as you lean up on an elbow, holding your cheek in your hand.

He’s definitely starting to sweat now. “If you’re awake then you go do it.”

“They can wait.”

Satoru loses his patience at your insistence on not looking away. “Sketch.”

“Satoru.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He covers his face with his hands, groaning like he’s in agony. “Don’t make me talk about this.”

Hmm. What can you do to make him more comfortable? This is definitely a talk that you two need to have. You’ve been making assumptions when you should’ve just asked him up front if sex was going to be on the table or not. “If I roll over, will it be easier to talk to me?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it at all!” His cheeks puff out and he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly pouting, but he eventually relents. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you remark as you move back to your original position. “It’s what your body does.” You pause, thinking of how to further reassure him. “If I’m not allowed to be embarrassed about my brain, you shouldn’t have to hide that from me. How are you hiding it, by the way?” Satoru mumbles something. You think you catch it, but you dryly request, “A little louder, please.”

“Infinity,” he answers, loud and bitchy.

It takes a lot to not turn back over, but you swore you’d stay. “You…were using your technique…to keep me from feeling it when you get hard,” you summarize. Just to confirm. You’re not going to laugh. You’re not going to laugh.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

Hmm, that seemed a little too easy for him to do. As if he had practice with doing it before. “How long have you been doing this?”

He’s reluctant to answer. “I worked on figuring it out after that day in our second year. The…the one on the field…when you were underneath me.”

“Wait one second!” You remember that day! It was where you two ended up in a compromising position and he’d accidentally pressed his knee against your pussy. You get tangled in the sheets temporarily in your rush to turn over and sit up, facing him directly. “Is that the reason you stole my sweatshirt?”

Satoru’s shoulders are slowly hunching up to his ears. “I couldn’t help it! You were so pretty, moving around almost like a dance! Then, I know it was because you got hurt from the fall, but my dick couldn’t tell the difference between a good moan or a bad moan! I panicked!”

You burst out into laughter despite your burning cheeks. He whines your name. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him, so you try to explain through your laughing, “I’m relieved that my plan worked. I hoped you thought it was because I hurt myself, but it was just because you turned me on when your knee bumped against my…y’know.” You motion toward your crotch.

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirm as your laughter settles down. “Jeez, Satoru, this whole time…I thought you just weren’t into me that way.”

“Sketch, why would I ask you out if I wasn’t into you that way?”

You shrug. “You can still love someone without needing to have sex with them. I know everyone else assumes you have to do that when you’re a couple, but…I never really got turned on that much until that day, honestly. So, yeah, I think they’re two separate things.”

In an instant, Satoru has straightened up and watches you seriously. “Do you ever want to fuck?” He cringes, maybe at how crude that sounded. “In the future, I mean. We don’t have to. I liked you way before then, since we were first years. If you never wanna have sex, I still want to be with you.”

“Didn’t you hear me just say you turned me on?” You scoot toward him, reaching out to push his bangs away from his forehead, making him lift his eyes. “If you’re okay with it then, yes, I want to do that with you.” You pull your hand away, suddenly remembering that there’s something crucial you haven’t told him about. “Um…so…just full honesty here…uh, I’m…I’m not a virgin.”

Satoru snatches your wrist, eyes wild and desperate. “What?! Who—”

“Suguru,” you admit quietly while pulling your arm away from his grasp.

“Oh.” He exhales loudly as if he’s relieved and holds a hand above his heart. “Jeez, Sketch, you really scared me for a second there. Don’t ever do that again. I thought there was someone else.”

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But…there…was someone else?”

“Someone that’s not Suguru,” he replies with a roll of the eyes. As if you’re silly for pointing that out. “If I trust anyone to take care of you, it’s him. Duh.” Oh. Well. That…went better than expected? Actually, you’re not sure how you thought he was going to respond. “But when’d that happen? How?”

“Oh. Uh…third year. The July before…everything.” You chew the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him, but it’s not like Satoru doesn’t already know everything about you and Suguru, anyway. “I mean, originally, I came up with stupid idea that if we were virgins by the end of high school, we’d fix that for each other, and he agreed. I…honestly, I’d forgotten all about it until he brought it back up. And…” You sigh. “I wanted to make him happy.”

Satoru looks concerned. “You only did it for him?”

Yeah, you should’ve worded that better. You know how it must sound from his end. That you were appeasing Suguru, that it was all about him. “It wasn’t only him getting something out of it! He definitely took care of me. It felt really, really good! We—” you squirm uncomfortably. You have to be honest about how you were feeling at the time and that’s hard to do. “I can’t speak for him, but…I think he probably felt the same. I felt so out of control with everything that was happening. I felt like everyone and everything was slipping away, especially him. It made him happy, and it made me happy, too.”

His features soften, less worried now. “Have you…uh…talked about it since then?”

“No. You know what happened after. And it took us so long to start talking again. And by the time we were close to what we were before, you asked me out.” You fidget with the sheets. “Do…do you think I should talk to him? I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“You could ask him to join us?”

As always, Satoru brings levity to the situation. Snorting, you shove at him. “Be serious!”

“Who says I wasn’t, huh?” But he’s grinning, strained as it may be. “I don’t know. I guess you’re right. Suguru was the one who actively encouraged me to ask you out, so…I guess he’s not hung up on it.” That…stings, for some reason. Maybe it’s the timing of it all that makes it hurt. If things had gotten better…then what? What would you have done? That question makes your chest tight. “So, you wanna pop my cherry?”

He yanks you from the emotions welling up inside your chest. “Satoru!”

“That’s what I’m hearing, isn’t it?”

“You could be less crass about it!”

His smile comes a little easier. He lashes out, snatching your wrists, dragging you forward toward him. Giggling, you pretend to put up a fight. “You want me to be more poetic about it?” He gets you in his lap, hands braced on his shoulders. “Please, my dear Sketch, be my guide through the erotic arts.”

“That’s somehow worse,” you mutter. Then, you shake your head and sigh fondly. “We should probably take it slow since you won’t even let me feel your dick.”

“I’ll let you feel it right now!”

Toru and Gato decide, at that exact moment, that they’ve waited long enough for breakfast. Toru does his favorite thing when Satoru is around which is throw himself on top of Satoru’s head, white fluff on more white fluff. Gato likes Satoru more than Toru does and lovingly tries to slip under Satoru’s shirt, but he’s still yowling like he’s dying of starvation.

“Menaces to society,” Satoru complains.

“The cutest menaces to society,” you coo while reaching up to take Toru into your loving arms.

You should’ve expected that Satoru would plan to take things faster in regard to the whole sex thing. Suggesting taking it slow probably came off as you trying to take it easy on him which, of course, would not stand in his eyes and would have him seeing it as a challenge.

For the past two weeks since that morning, he’s been restless when you do have the chance to see him. Since the end of the college semester, you could count with your fingers how many times he’s actually been in his apartment. Even if it’s to crash in your bed while you’re at work, hoping to spend even a little time with you before he’s called away.

You’ve been seriously debating on spiking the coffee of one or two higher-ups in order to influence them to take it easier on him, but Satoru would be upset. That’s playing with fire. And he’s right, you suppose. You need to test the limits of your technique, refine it, see if it’s possible to make it untraceable. So, no use of your technique unless under dire circumstances.

Satoru texted you with a heads up that he’s napping in your bed and said he left some cash on your table to use to stock up your pantry with sweets since he’s been burning through them. You don’t feel like arguing with him over who pays, so you do as he asks this time. With Toru and Gato weaving through your legs and almost tripping you—their daily routine—you make your way to the kitchen, but the only thing there is his wallet.

“I knew I should’ve reminded him to get the cash out before he went to sleep,” you whisper to yourself and the stillness of your apartment. It still feels weird going through his wallet. “Should I wake him up?” It’s pondering out loud, but Toru answers with a chirrup. If he could talk, it’d probably be a resounding yes.

You decide against it. He needs actual sleep. Not Reverse Cursed Technique. That doesn’t remove emotional fatigue. Toru yowls in offense when you don’t leave the kitchen and instead pick up Satoru’s wallet. You flip it open, peeling it apart, and your brows raise to your hairline when you see what’s tucked away in there alongside his cash.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take the bills, close his wallet, place it back where it was on the table, and you’re headed back out the door.

You don’t bring it up until after you’ve both had dinner together, you’ve showered, and you’re settling in for bed. His nap was enough to recharge his brain, so he’ll be playing the PlayStation 2 that appears to have taken up permanent residence in your bedroom. He’s cross-legged at the end of the bed, tongue poking out, and his eyes briefly dart over to you.

Then, he does a double-take and stares at you with wide eyes while you hear the telltale sound of the game’s death screen.

Oh, that’s definitely boosting your ego. Goes to show what simply taking off your sports bra can do. When it comes to Satoru, anyway. This only further cements how sheltered he truly was. But…your only point of reference is Suguru and you two literally grew up together. You were never totally naked around each other, but he never outright ogled when your nipples were showing through your shirt.

“You’re blushing,” you tease.

“I’m not!”

“How are we going to use that condom in your wallet if you can’t even look at me?” You laugh at the look of pure horror on his face. Like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you trying to speedrun sex?”

“No,” he lies. “But even if I was, it’s fine. I’m ready. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

Humming, you slowly approach him. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress now, so you can stand between his open legs. “Do you ever stop to think about how much you keep Infinity up?” He’s even doing it right now. He doesn’t lower it quick enough, so your fingers meet resistance when going to card them through his hair. “Everything felt turned up to an eleven when I was doing it with Suguru. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like for you.”

“I can handle it,” he grumbles with a pout.

“Fine. Do you feel like fooling around right now?”

“Right now?” Satoru squeaks.

“Only if you’re up for it,” you say sweetly.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “Holy shit, yes. I am so ready,” he declares as he rubs his sweaty palms across his shorts.

It feels like you should feel more nervous than you do right now. Then again, you’ve slowly been learning that the littlest things about you turn him on. Letting him see you fully naked doesn’t seem so daunting when you know how attracted he already is to you.

You’re still standing between his legs when you slowly pull your shirt up and over your head, so your breasts are right there in his face when you toss the garment over in the corner of the room. He’s transfixed. There might even be a little drool at the corner of his mouth. But, despite what people may think, Gojo Satoru is a gentleman with his girlfriend and doesn’t touch. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move his hands.

“You’re really good when you wanna be, y’know,” you remark amusedly. Interestingly enough, his cheeks turn redder when you tell him that. “You can touch me.” You hear the click of his throat when he swallows. “Is it okay for me to touch you?” He nods silently. “Can I take off your shirt?”

Satoru, while yanking his shirt over his head, says, “How would it even work if I told you no?”

“Maybe you want me to keep my hands to myself while you explore my body!”

His metaphorical ears perk up. “Is that on the table?”

The truth is that you’ve been thinking about this since you found that condom in his wallet and decided to confront him. You wanted something to happen. Not that you’d try to pressure him if he wasn’t ready! But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping this is how things would play out.

“As long as you let me touch you after.” He nods eagerly. You chuckle softly before turning around and flopping back on your mattress. “Okay, then. My body is all yours.”

There’s that panicked expression again. Also, he moves his arm to cover his crotch. “Um…maybe don’t say that again…”

“You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right? You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

He sighs in defeat before admitting, “I don’t want to come fast and embarrass myself, okay?”

“If you come just from me talking to you then I feel like that’s a sign from the heavens to marry you.”

Your attempts at trying to ease his mind seem to be working because he grins at you when you say that. He closes the distance, putting his hands on either side of your head. “Wait. Keep going. I’m almost there.”

“You’re not really beating those allegations of being whipped that Shoko throws your way.”

“Sorry that I love my Sketch.” You instinctively turn your head away, overwhelmed by the emotions that build inside you when he says that. It was the wrong thing to do because he immediately pounces. “Eh?” He drops down on his elbows, lowering himself so his body presses against yours, and shifts to put his face right in front of yours. “You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right?”

Figures that he’d throw your words back at you.

“It’s not me getting turned on,” you protest. “I…I’m not used to it yet! I’d react the same way if you said it in a non-sexual setting!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he sings. “I think it could totally be both. We should test it out!” And that smirk on his face spells nothing but trouble for your future. “Should I tell my Sketch how much I love her while I’m exploring her body?”

“I’ll give as good as I get,” you hiss. “I swear I’ll make you come so fast, Gojo Satoru!”

“But my Sketch wouldn’t make fun of me for that. She said so.” He’s still smirking smugly, putting his hand on your cheek to guide your head back toward the ceiling. “Because she’s so kind to me.” His face is above yours. “She’s as beautiful inside as she outside.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “All my dreams are coming true because of her.”

“Stop talking about me in the third person,” you stutter., betraying just how flustered you’re getting. “Just stop talking about me period!”

“Why?” One of his hands moves to your thigh, tentatively squeezing. “You like this, right? That’s why you’ve been squeezing your legs together.” You have been. You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you’ve been trying to ease the pressure inside you, but his stupid waist is in the way.

This is infuriating—how your brain lights up like a firecracker at the praise yet somehow can’t handle it.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m doing it,” you explain slowly as a plan starts forming. You’ll just have to distract him. “Do you want to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

He audibly gulps.

Satoru learns his lesson about rushing things. Your hunch about his sensitivity had been right. While he has his hand stuck down your shorts, having found a good rhythm after exploring that part of you, you’re on the cusp of orgasm and instinctively try to quiet your noises. Because of your height differences, your face is at his collarbones, so you give your mouth something to do by licking one of his nipples.

He tears you away from orgasm when he tears his hand away to grip at the covers. You pull your face away long enough to see him squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, but his hips buck and he loses control. His groan is loud, almost sounding pained, but it felt like that for you, too, the first time you came from someone else’s touch.

“I forgot about the tongue piercing,” he wheezes when he’s come down from it.

You don’t remind him that he feels it every single time he kisses you with tongue. Mainly because he’s shoving said tongue back in your mouth as he kisses you roughly. You stop thinking when he shoves his hand back down your shorts and quickly sends you careening over the edge of orgasm soon after.

It happens on a random day in early November.

You’re meticulously going over all the details of a plan you’re going to propose to the higher-ups in a week. You’ve been buried in files, been forced to make potential recruitment calls, and test your math skills with someone from budgeting. You didn’t even know headquarters had a budgeting department. It’s been a test of your patience. No wonder nothing ever gets done. The higher-ups make it as painful as possible to even suggest a plan.

Shoko had dinner with you and Satoru. Though, it was more of a working one for you. Shoko demanded you leave the paperwork behind, but you primly reminded her that this is your apartment, and you’ll do what you want. And after you scarfed down your food, you were right back at the chabudai.

Shoko taps the chabudai, her fist in your field of vision. You glance up at her, blinking. She has her coat on and a cigarette hanging from her lips, ready to be lit and smoked as soon as she leaves. “I’m leaving,” she announces. “Please stop working for the night and entertain your idiotic boyfriend. He’s been watching you like a creep for the last ten minutes.”

Oh. You thought he’d sat down to play his Nintendo DS while you worked. It’s there, on the chabudai, but it’s off. Satoru has an elbow leaned on the table and, as Shoko said, is watching you with a grin. “He does that sometimes. He likes to watch my cursed energy.”

“And you actually believe that?” Shoko shoots back dryly.

“What else would it be?”

“Yeah, Shoko, what else would it be?” Satoru repeats in a mocking tone. “You don’t know me.”

“I do know you. You’re just openly doing the thing you’ve been doing since we were first years—looking at Duck like a lovesick puppy.”

You squint at Satoru who is having a stare down with Shoko. The flush high on his cheeks is a dead giveaway, though. “Well, it is his right,” you defend. “Be thankful we’re not in public.”

Shoko makes a noise of disgust. “He does it there, too.”

“I can’t control where or how he looks.”

“Ugh, I didn’t think it was possible for you to spoil him more.” Then, she throws her hands up in defeat and heads toward the door. “I’m leaving now before I’m sent into a sugar-induced coma by watching you two swoon over each other.”

“Bye!” Satoru and you both shout after her simultaneously.

“See you!” Shoko calls back before the door shuts, so she clearly isn’t that upset about the behavior if she’s not storming out without another word.

It’s too bad Shoko didn’t stick around because her complaint did do something good which is pull you away from work. You lean up to your full height, back popping from being hunched over for so long. Satoru sees this as the perfect opportunity to tackle you to the floor and start peppering your face with kisses.

“Maybe she’s right,” you say between kisses and laughter. “Maybe I am spoiling you.”

“No, you’ve been depriving me of love, actually,” he whines. “And you haven’t even told me what you’re working on.”

“Because I know you’d threaten the higher-ups to accept it.”

“I would not!” He flattens himself against you, digging his chin between the valley of your breasts, pouting up at you. “I’d give them just a little nudge in the right direction.”

You tilt your head back against the tatami. How many times do you have to explain this to him? “I need to earn their trust. Does it make me feel sleazy? Yes. But it has to be done. We need someone on the inside. The whole reason you wanted to teach was to make stronger allies, to get people on your side rather than throw your weight around and scare everyone.” You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. “Let me handle the bureaucratic bullshit, alright?”

“Fine,” he agrees with a huff. Clearly, he’s not very upset because he bats his lashes at you, bottom lip stuck out, trying to look as cute as possible. “I still think you should do something to make up for depriving me of girlfriend time.”

Girlfriend time—as if you actually go out that much. Most of the time, you both exist in the same room, doing things that you both love while occasionally bringing the other into it. “Yeah? What do you want for your so-called compensation?”

Then, cheery as anything, he chirps, “I think you should fuck me!”

The weight of the request compared to the silliness as he asks it has your brain stuttering. “Um…like…you want to get off together?”

“I mean—” he scratches the bridge of his nose, “—hopefully that happens in the process. I don’t really know how long I’ll last when I’m inside you, though. I’ll definitely go down on you if I come before you. Or before.” He waggles his brows. “I’d like something savory for dessert.”

Heat rushes across your body. You’re not sure if it’s from arousal or being flustered. “Ugh, don’t…don’t describe me like I’m food—”

“I can be more descriptive if you want?”

“More?”

He nods eagerly. “Oh, yeah. I could wax poetry about your pussy.”

The absurdity of this situation has you dropping your head back and bursting out into laughter. This is such a filthy conversation to have, absolutely ridiculous, but you’re simply overwhelmed with love for him. It’s just so…Satoru. And you don’t know how you got so lucky to have this perverted dork love you the way he does. So brash and blunt yet so considerate and caring, thinking of every detail ahead of time to make sure you’re taken care of and happy.

“Just…just don’t,” you beg through your laughter. “No waxing poetry is needed.”

“Eh? But I made a haiku and everything!”

The fact that you don’t know if he’s serious or not has you laughing harder. “You’re so stupid,” you breathe out while tugging him up so you can get your mouth on his. “I love you so much.” He grins against your mouth. “Let’s go to bed and finally put that condom in your wallet to use.”

By the time you’re back in your bedroom, your shirt and bra are already off. Satoru made a brief detour to the kitchen for his wallet, but he’s nothing if not efficient, so his shirt is also already off when he sprints back to the bedroom with you. Condom wrapper between his teeth, he’s already unbuttoning his pants, too. Chuckling, you close the distance between you two, fingers hooking in his waistband, taking over tugging down his pants for him.

You’re both naked when you fall back on your mattress together. You’re sprawled out, but Satoru is on his knees, bracketing your legs. He claps his hands together and bows his head a little, looking so goofy while doing all this with a hard dick. “Please be gentle with me, Senpai.”

You snort. “You’re literally the oldest here.”

He drops the pose, hunching over so his face is hovering over yours. “But you’re the senpai in sex!”

“I’ve only had sex once.”

“One more time than me.”

In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of him rubbing his hands against your sheets. Not suspicious at all. You see this for what it is. “Hey,” you whisper as you reach out to touch his cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“Me?” He scoffs dismissively. “No.”

So…yes. You place your hands on his bare shoulders, sliding them around to thread your fingers through the soft, white hair at the base of his neck. “Hypothetically, if you were nervous, then why?”

“Hypothetically,” he stresses as the bravado slips away for something less confident, “I want this to be special for you, and I’m worried I’m not doing that.” He pauses. “Again, purely hypothetical.”

“Purely hypothetical,” you repeat wryly before sighing. “It’s already special because it’s you. There’s nothing more for you to do but be the person I love.”

“Smooth,” he compliments.

Trying to keep the playfulness going to ease his nerves, you shoot him a sly grin. “Don’t worry. Senpai will take care of you.”

“Ooh, we should get your uniform skirt out and get some knee-high socks for you. That’d be so sexy.”

You lean forward to shut him up with a kiss.

It goes like that for a while, the two of you trading sensual kisses as you roll around. At one point, you’re on top, straddling him, grinding to chase after the flickers of pleasure when his cock bumps against your clit. He doesn’t let that last long, rolling over to pin you back underneath him, and he starts sucking bruises into your skin while pinching a nipple between his fingers. You give a ragged breath and cradle the side of his face in a hand.

Slowly, he kisses his way down your body—neck, valley of your breasts, and pausing at your belly. “Now or after?”

You’d really love to come on his cock. Fooling around with Satoru has made you learn you like being full when you come, but you’ve only done this once two years ago. “It’s easier when I’m wet,” you mumble. “And you’re…big.”

Satoru doesn’t even preen at the compliment, too eager to get down to your pussy. You’re not sure what you expected Satoru to be like in bed, but he loves going down on you. The very first time, it turned him on so much that he came in his shorts only after a few thrusts against the bed. And…you love it, too. A lot. Sometimes, it’s been hard for you to get off because you’re so distracted by the callousness of his fingers against your clit, but you don’t feel that with his tongue. But you feel guilty because it takes longer for you to come than him.

It's his first time, though, you think blearily as he yanks you further down the bed so he can drop to his knees on the edge of the mattress. If this is what he wants, then this is what he gets. You gasp softly at the first swipe of his tongue, heart racing with a blend of nervousness and excitement. You instinctively move to bite at your fist to silence yourself—a leftover from the few times you tried getting off when living with your parents. Satoru grabs your wrists before you can, guiding them to clench at the sheets, greedily wanting to hear you.

“Fingers,” you demand breathlessly when your legs start trembling. “Get me ready for your cock.” He moans against your pussy, the vibration making you yelp and unthinkingly clutch at his hair. He moans again and your toes curl. “Fingers,” you insist. All the thoughts just leave his head when he’s got his mouth on you.

Satoru manages to slip three in you before you barrel over the edge. You knew you were excited and turned on, but jeez. Usually, when he licks inside you along with his fingers, that’s never quite enough to finish the job, but not tonight. You end up boxing his head in with your thighs, trembling and arching up from the mattress. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes when he grabs you by the hips and manhandles you back up the mattress so he’s kneeling over you again.

“Should I wait?” Satoru hesitantly asks.

Dazedly, you answer, “Go for it. Just don’t make me try to come.” You hear the crinkle of the condom and lean up on an elbow, watching him rip it open. “Want me to help?”

“I say this with nothing but love in my heart for you,” he starts with a strained smile, “but do not go anywhere near my dick right now. Don’t even look at me. I swear I’m about to bust at just the sight of you looking like that, I’m so serious. All fucked out and like…like an ethereal goddess…”

You flop back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a laugh. “Fucked out, maybe. Ethereal goddess? Now, you’re the one that’s spoiling me.” You spread your legs wider when he touches the inside of your knees, shivering when you hear that little hitch in his breath at the sight of you. “Someone has to be humble in this relationship.”

Satoru says nothing, so you tilt your head up, watching him. Kneeled between your legs, he has one hand still on your knee, absentmindedly running his thumb over the skin. In his other hand, he’s got the condom on and is holding his dick. He’s staring at your pussy with a weird mix of…determination and anxiety?

As your mouth is opening to check on him, he lifts his eyes to meet yours before nervously blurting, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There’s another reason that he’s more focused on your pleasure than his own. Like in your first year, he had issues with control over Infinity—only around you and Suguru. “Come here,” you beckon while reaching out your arms for him. He flattens himself against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “You won’t hurt me. Your body doesn’t recognize me as a threat, remember?” Satoru has only ever trusted you and Suguru, so deeply that his body acknowledged this truth before Satoru himself figured it out. “But we don’t have to keep going.”

“I want to.” His lips drag across your skin. Intimate like this, your nerves are livewires, sparking at even the lightest touch. “I want to be with you,” he confesses while lacing his fingers through yours. “I want to give this to you.”

Haven’t you already given me everything? Love and trust, above all else. He’s told you that he’s stared at the shape of your soul, but you don’t need his eyes to be able to see his just as well. When you’re with each other, there are no masks. They’re dropped at the door. You are yourselves, true and unabashed. Sketch and Satoru. This is to be known. This is love.

Satoru doesn’t stretch you as much at the first time you did this, but he reaches so much deeper. You keep control of his pace with your nails dug into the skin of his hips, pushing when you need a second to breathe. Just when you think there can’t be much more left, there is. And when he’s buried to the hilt, trembling under your hands, you swear you can feel him in your throat. You gasp, tangling your legs with his.

“Not lasting long,” he warns through gritted teeth.

“Wanna stay there?” You reach down between your bodies, giving an experimental glide of your fingers over your clit. Sensitive, but doable. “I can go again, I think,” you admit breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

Oh, the sound of his voice, husky and seductive, makes you throb. You clutch at him tighter. “Yeah,” you confirm. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck, not as good as you.” He gives an experimental roll of his hips, and you feel the shudder roll through him. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good, you have no idea. I never wanna leave your pussy. I wanna die here. This is heaven. Actual heaven.” Your fingers trail across his collarbone, the skin flushed and glistening with sweat. “Please,” he begs. You hum in question. “Please, don’t go near my nipples. Please. I need some of my pride left.”

“Don’t worry. You’re doing so well right now.”

“No, no, no, let’s not do that right now. That is not helping the way you think it is.”

So, the reassurance did not reassure. “Sorry,” you apologize without really feeling sorry. You’re going to tuck that little tidbit away for later. He’s already struggling enough as it is. “You know you can come, though, right? That’s sort of the point. I got mine already.”

“I refuse to be a one pump chump,” he says with a huff.

“I could be really mean right now,” you tease as your fingers glide dangerously close to a nipple. “Is this what it feels like to be the strongest? I think I’m experiencing a power trip right now.”

Satoru snorts. You giggle. Then, the both of you are laughing. “And here I was trying to be serious about all this,” he says through his giggling.

“I don’t want serious. I want Satoru.”

He sighs softly, arching his back to get his mouth on yours. “You’re so romantic,” he whispers against your mouth. “I love you so much, y’know?”

You touch his cheek, smiling shyly. “I love you, too.”

The silliness melts away, tenderness and love remaining. Your earlier plan goes out the window because you don’t want to stop holding his hands when he laces his fingers through yours again, keeping them up by your head. It takes three thrusts before he’s gripping your hands so tight, entire body going tense, and moaning in your ear as he comes. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and that is when you pull your hand away to rub at your clit. There’s no more burn of oversensitivity. You’re burning hot for him, and you come almost as fast as he does.

It's a quiet process afterward. He ties the condom off, easily tossing it in the little trashcan by your nightstand. You’re starting to doze when he shifts down on the mattress enough to place his head in the valley of your breasts. You card your fingers through his hair, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his steady breaths.

“No Reverse Curse Technique tonight,” you mumble, halfway asleep. “Rest your brain.”

“Okay,” Satoru agrees as sleepily as you. “Phone off, too.”

“Good,” are the last words you remember being spoken before you’re drifting off.

#jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo smut #autistic reader #autistic gojo satoru #my fic

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