#Little Brown & Co.
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🦇Batfamily🦇
Tim: *sleep deprived* Is a blanket a liquid?
Bruce: *stopped typing and looked over at his son* W-what?
Dick: *paused his sparring* Why would you ask that?
Jason: *blinking* What kind of question is that?
Cass: 🤔
Damian: ~Tt~ That's your question?
Steph: You say things like that to hurt my brain.
#dc comics#batman#batfamily#bruce wayne#timothy drake#jason todd#richard grayson#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#damian wayne#red robin#nightwing#red hood#black bat#spoiler#robin#tim is sleep deprived#and the rest is just confused#damian is actually unimpressed with his brother#but also#this incorrect quote is brought to you by conversations at work#and I actually started this#i had some co-workers that weren't having the best day and I just thought that a funny little question would make their day#and one of them actually gave a good response#but I forgot it#also#i added bruce and cass' response#it didn't feel right leaving them out
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happy to announce I've set my crustify ray on another Curse of Strahd man
Mr. Rahadin
He has no lipssss. How will he get a kiss kiss?
#Made him purple too. Cause I fully thought he was supposed to be pinkish purple in his canon art but I saw people draw him brown#Idk. Dm approved it that's all that matters aye#austinart#curse of strahd#Mr. Rahadin I know you want Strahd carnally. I saw your gay little earring (I'm the one that gave it to him) I know you want him#I think he copied Strahds hairstyle cause he thought Strahd was so cool#cos: hunted
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Greg in every episode of CSI (200/328) • Coup De Grace •
#csi#greg sanders#catherine willows#sara sidle#gil grissom#nick stokes#warrick brown#there he is! my favourite white boy!#own post#mine: every episode#csi s10#csi 10x04#find it hilarious that Greg has next to no patience for witnesses/suspects who are just not co-operating#like when the mum in this episode is like “where's the other officer” and Gregs just there like “you have me” like he is having none of it#also a CRIME that this is the only time we get to see Greg interact with kids and it frustrates me CONSTANTLY#like Nick got so many scenes with kids I just wish we got one or two more for Greg :((#also also only 128 episodes left 🥺#also (x3) love my little dork putting his hand up in the last gif like yes you may speak 💕
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Marbled Monday
This Marbled Monday we’ve got a real stunner for you—the marbled covers and end sheets of an 8 volume set of The Spectator, which was (according to Wikipedia) “a daily publication founded by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele in England, lasting from 1711 to 1712. Each ‘paper,’ or ‘number,’ was approximately 2,500 words long, and the original run consisted of 555 numbers, beginning on 1 March 1711. These were collected into seven volumes. The paper was revived without the involvement of Steele in 1714, appearing thrice weekly for six months, and these papers when collected formed the eighth volume.” This edition was published in 1856 in Boston by Little, Brown, & Co.
Each volume features a half binding in tan leather and marbled paper. The same marbled paper was also used at the end sheets for each volume. The marbling is a Turkish pattern, with burnt umber, tan, bright blue, teal blue, and white. There is also a lovely flower detail stamped in gold on the spine of each volume.
View more Marbled Monday posts.
-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager
#Marbled Monday#The Spectator#Joseph Addison#Richard Steele#Little Brown & Co.#daily paper#marbling#marbled paper#Turkish pattern#Turkish marbling#Alice
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thinking abt gwen and hobie and what his community means and meant to her, how cool she thinks he is, how kind, how fucking smart. she ADORES hobie, dude. she thinks he's the coolest ever. he's her best friend, right alongside miles. she'd do just about anything he asked and considers him the best person she knows
#I JUST....I LOVE THEM#i know daniel kaluuya says that in his opinion he thinks 'something happened' between them#which is interesting 2 me and doesnt have 2 be romantic necessarrily#but i also think like#how could you not fall a little in love with the guy?#hobie brown is the coolest dude in the world at a base level#let alone if you've been made homeless due to ur dad rejecting you so wholly#and he gives you a place to be and calls you gwendy and compliments ur drumming and gets u shoes#lets u borrow his jackets cos you've got nothing but the suit on your back#i dont think she has an actual Romantic Crush but like. how could u not feel awe towards this person?#hobie vc dont feel awe towards me that makes me feel like a fuckin autocrat divine right bullshit#also i just cant imagine that even if feelings Did happen that either would do anything abt it#esp during the movies timeline#like gwen shows that she rly doesnt wanna be w a spiderman rn on the off chance she Dies#and hobie would never risk accidentally taking advantage of gwen while shes so dependent on him and emotionally fragile
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andrew is so real for thinking neil is a hallucination cos now that we have outsider pov on him it's actually insane that he's a real person. like this is neil josten: he's the prettiest boy you've ever met. he's the runaway son of a serial killer. he has a million dollars but is afraid of spending money. he folds his clothes a specific way so he can tell when someone's gone through his stuff. he keeps a stalker's journal on the two greatest exy players of all time. he wears coloured contacts and they're brown. he paid a busboy $100 to knock him out cold. he insulted a celebrity athlete on live tv after trying to keep a low profile. he says he's trying to stay alive while running towards death like it's a race. he mouths off to the mafia. he respects your boundaries and is the first person ever to take you at face value and not consider you an out of control psychopath. he orders hits on your abusers. he has the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen. he looks great in clubbing clothes but dresses like he's homeless. he insults someone for their "intricate and endless daddy issues" while his father is a convicted mobster and serial killer. he didn't give a fuck when his teammate was killed. everyone seems to like him even though it's clear he's hiding a million secrets. he doesn't catch on to the many many hints you're giving him. he calls you out not for being a danger to others but for being a danger to yourself. he thinks you should be protected as well as trusting you to protect him (and you think, how can someone be a victim and a protector?). he doesn't give a flying fuck what literally anyone thinks about him. he comes back from being waterboarded and tortured and abused for weeks (to protect you) and is still as feisty and bitchy as before. except now he's a redhead and has many more scars. he is possibly the first person to ever make the active decision to protect you. he's willing to put himself in harm's way again and again and again so he won't lose you. he always has a cigarette but he never smokes. he says "you're not actually a sociopath are you?" and "the next time someone calls you soulless i might have to fight them". even though he's messy and a little oblivious he's sees you. he might be the only person to ever want you off your drugs. he wants to see you lose control, is aware that you're not out of control, you're actually so controlled and restrained all of the time and he wants to see you feel something, he wants you to be angry, be angry at him. he riles you up on purpose to see you show emotion, feel something. he's a runner and yet he's still possibly the bravest person you've ever met. he gets kidnapped and comes back even more bruised and battered than before and he's still a mouthy little shit who bitches at the press and cuts deals with the yakuza. he's most of the reason why the worst team in the nation ends up winning championships. he shoves a guy clean off his feet because they body checked you. he punched celebrity athlete riko moriyama in public, for you. he threatens him, for you. he's almost killed on live tv. he mouths off to the fbi. he watches the (second) best exy player in the world get shot. he also watches his father, notorious serial killer and gangster, get shot in front of him. and he laughs. he smiles. he kisses you and is never gonna run again and he's free and he wants to be with you, he wants you.
#neil josten how are you real#he really is a pipe dream#neil josten the man that you are#i love him your honour#aftg#all for the game#the sunshine court#tsc#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#zoe yaps
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Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic
[ID: A screenshot from the movie Nimona, showing Nimona, a small white girl with red hair, grabbing the right prosthetic arm of Ballister, a knight in black armour with black hair and light brown skin. He is holding a broken bottle in his prosthetic hand while Nimona admires his arm. Overlaid on the screenshot is white text that reads "Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic" /End ID]
In a lot of media, prosthetic limbs are portrayed as these devices that act as a near-perfect replacement for a character who has lost, or was born without a limb. So much so that in a lot of cases, the use of a prosthetic has basically no impact on the character beyond a superficial level or their appearance, or it's portrayed as something that's even better than the old meat-limb it's replacing. This trope shows up most often in Sci-fi, but it shows up in all kinds of stories outside of that, even otherwise very grounded ones!
If a story isn't depicting the loss of a limb as the be-all-end-all worst thing that can happen to a person, they almost always default to a perfect prosthetic, functionally curing the amputation with it. But the reality is that prosthetics are FAR from perfect, and as someone who has used them for their entire life I don't think they ever will be. Limb difference is still and always will be a disability, regardless of the prosthetics available, and this really isn't a bad thing.
Why is this trope so common?
I meant it when I said this is a really, really a common trope, so much so that the majority of the media I've seen with amputees and characters with limb differences that released in the last decade or end up using it. Even stories where becoming an amputee is treated like a fate worse than death, ironically, aren't excluded from this. I have a few theories as to why this has happened: The pessimistic answer is that it's easy. You get to have a disabled character and claim you have disability representation, without really having to do much extra work or research because most of your audience won't notice if you aren't accurate - in fact they kind of expect it. You also, for the most part, dodge the backlash other kinds of disability representation (or really any minority representation) usually get. The more optimistic reason is that, for a long time, amputees and people with limb differences (as well as a lot of other disabled people) were predominantly shown in media as sad, depressed and unable to do anything, very much falling into the "sad disabled person" trope. As a kid, this was really the only way I saw people like me on screen or in books. And so, the limb difference community pushed back against that portrayal and were pretty successful in changing the narrative in the public's eye. A little too successful. A lot of creatives were genuinely trying to do right by our community, listen and do better, but many simply overcorrected and instead ended up creating stories where prosthetics were essentially cures instead of the mobility aids they are. I also think the public's general lack of understanding about disability plays a roll in all this. There are a lot of people who, in my experience, believe that the more visible a disability is, the worse it is. Limb differences and amputations are very visible, but prosthetics, even those that aren't trying to be discreet, make them less so. While using a prosthetic is very, very different to a biological limb, you won't necessarily see how in a casual interaction with, say a co-worker or neighbor, especially because there is a very real stigma applied to people with limb differences to keep those things hidden from the public. There are other reasons too, such as the fact that a lot of creatives don't even consider the connection to real amputees when creating characters with robotic limbs in genres like sci-fi and some fantasy, so they never stop to consider that these tropes could be impacting real people. Amputees are also very frequently used in "inspiration porn" content that uses the angle that disabilities can be "overcome" with a good attitude, downplaying the way those disabilities actually impact us. The prosthetics industry - specifically the component manufacturers, often also push the idea of prosthetics being the only way to return to a "normal" life, both to the wider public and to people with limb differences and amputations (which can add to that sense of shame I mentioned when it doesn't play out that way for them). On top of that, I also think the recent increase in popularity of concepts like trans-humanism contributes to it as well. these movements often talk about robotic or bionic body parts being enhancements and "the way of the future", and I think people get a bit too caught up on what may be potentially possible in the future with the real, current experiences of people with "robotic limbs" aka prosthetics, now. There are also inherently disabling things that come with removing and replacing parts of your body, things that will not just go away with some fancier tech.
So How do you actually avoid the trope?
So, we have some ideas about why it happens, but how do you actually avoid the "perfect prosthetic" trope from appearing in your work? The most important thing is to remember that this is still a disability. The loss of a limb, even with the best prosthetic technology or magical item in the world, will always have some inherently disabling aspects to it - and this is not a bad thing. The key is to not over-do it, lest you risk falling into the old "sad disabled person" trope. So let's go over some of the ways you can show how your character's disability impacts them. You don't have to use all of these recommendations, just choose the ones that would best fit your character, their circumstances and your setting.
The prosthetic itself is just different
Probably the most important thing to address and acknowledge for prosthetic-using characters, is the actual ways in which the prosthetic itself is different from a biological limb, and the drawbacks and changes that come with that. For the sake of simplicity, I'm mainly going to focus on modern prosthetics here, but it's worth considering how to apply this your own, more advanced/fantastical prosthetics too. One major thing that most people writing amputees fail to acknowledge is that prosthetic limbs are not fleshy-limbs with a different coat of paint. They do the same basic thing their meat-counterparts do, but how they do it is often drastically different, which changes how they are used. A really good example of this is in prosthetic feet. There are dozens of joints in a biological foot, but most prosthetic feet have no joints or moving parts at all. Instead of having dozens of artificial joints to mimic the real bone structure of a foot, which are more prone to failure, require power and make the prosthetic much, much heavier for very little gain, prosthetic feet are often constructed from flexible carbon fiber sheets inside a flexible rubber foot-shaped shell. This allows the bend and flex those bones provide, without all the drawbacks that come from trying to directly mimic it. Making the sheets into different shapes makes them more ideal for different activities. E.g. feet made for general use, like walking around the city, are simple and light, shaped to encourage the most energy-efficient steps, while still allowing their users to do things like wear normal shoes. Feet made for rough terrain often have a split down the middle of the foot to allow the carbon fiber sheets to bend better over rocks when there is no ankle, and some newer designs also include a kind of suspension using pressurized air pulled from the prosthetic socket to allow some additional padding. Running feet have large "blades" made of these carbon fiber sheets to absorb more pressure when the foot hits the ground, and redirect the force that creates to propel their user forward as quickly as possible.
[ID: A photo of 4 prosthetic feet. On the left, the foot is covered with a black shoe, the one to it's right consists of a small, carbon fiber blade, split down the middle, in roughly the same shape and size as the previous foot. Next to the right is an even simpler and smaller carbon fiber foot with no split, and finally is a very short foot that is vaguely rectangular in shape. /End ID]
These are some of my own prosthetic feet I've had over the years. The two on the right are designed to be used by someone who is less mobile, and the ones on the left are made for someone who is more active. As my needs changed over the years, I've used different designs and styles, and keep the old ones since my needs do tend to fluctuate.
There are also robotic feet available that are designed as a kind of "all-purpose" foot that use an electronic ankle which more closely mimics a biological foot, but they are not very popular as the mechanism adds a lot of extra weight and it requires a battery and power to work, with many amputees feeling the jointless carbon fiber feet do a better job at meeting their needs. The same goes for arms and hands. "Robotic" hands that mimic a meat hand exist, but they aren't really that popular, even in places like Australia where the prohibitively expensive price tag isn't as much of an issue due to government programs that pay for the device for you. Instead, most arm amputees who use prosthetics that I know prefer simpler devices that do specific tasks, and just swap between them as needed, rather than something that tries to do it all. A big part of this is because the all-purpose hands can be clunky. they often require manual adjustment using the other hand to do simple things like going from holding a deck of cards to putting them down and picking up a glass of water, for example. The few that don't require that, I've been told, are often temperamental and don't actually work for every person with a limb difference.
Altered Proprioception
Loosing a limb is a big deal and this is always going to have an impact on the body in some way that won't be solved with a fancy piece of tech. One such example is how limb loss effects your sense of proprioception. This is your sense of where your body parts are in space. It's how you (mostly) know where your foot is going to land when you're walking, or how you're able to do things like lift up a glass of water without needing to actually watch your hand do it. Your brain does this by creating a mental map of your body, but this map doesn't get adjusted if you loose a limb. If that map doesn't accurately reflect your real body, you're not going to have an accurate sense of proprioception. This might look like a leg amputee being a bit less stable on their feet, or like an arm amputee needing to look at their arm or hand to be able to grab something with it. Those born without their limbs who take to using prosthetics often have a lot of trouble adapting, as their brains aren't used to having that limb in the first place, whereas an amputee's brain can sometimes be tricked into using their outdated body map to help them adjust to the prosthetic (though its impossible to line it up perfectly). Prosthetics that directly integrate with the nervous system, while rare, do exist, and even this direct connection doesn't completely erase this issue for reasons doctors aren't quite sure about. This is something that does become less of a problem with time. Eventually, someone proficient with their prosthetic will learn to compensate, but their sense of proprioception will never be 100% perfect. At the end of the day, no matter how it attaches, a prosthetic is still not a natural part of the body, and that will always cause some issues. It also means if they aren't practicing it all the time, they may have to relearn how to compensate for it.
Extra weight
You also have to remember that a prosthetic is not a natural part of the body, like we already talked about, and so no matter how good it is, your brain will most likely always interpret the weight of the prosthetic as something attached to you, not part of you. This means that, even though prosthetics are actually a lot lighter than biological limbs, they feel so much heavier. This is because, while a meat limb is heavier, a lot of that weight is from muscles which are actively contributing to the limb working, so it doesn't really feel like its that heavy. When you have less of your meat-limb though, you have even less muscle to work with to move this big thing strapped to it, so it feels heavier. The more of the limb you've lost, or just didn't have, the heavier the prosthetic has to be, and the less muscle you have left to move it. It's for this reason that a lot of amputees and people with limb differences get tired faster when using prosthetics. Some of us are fit enough where you almost wouldn't notice the extra effort they need to put in, but once again, just because you can't see it from the outside, doesn't mean it's not an issue.
Avoiding Water
Most prosthetics also aren't waterproof, and so prosthetic users have to be very careful about when and how they come into contact with it. For amputees with electric components, contact with water at all will likely damage the device. This can even include especially heavy rain, something I was told to avoid when I got my electronic knee prosthetic and something I assume would also apply to arm amputees with complex, electronic hands. For those with non-electronic prosthetics, water can be hazardous for different reasons. If the prosthetic has metal components, water may cause them to rust, especially if it's salty water. Other prosthetics have foam covers to give the illusion of a limb with the general shape of muscles and fat, but these covers do not come off, and if they get wet enough that water seeps all the way through, it is very hard to dry it and they may become moldy. Finally, cheaper modern prosthetics may also float. Many are made of very light-weight materials and some have pockets of air trapped inside them. For leg prosthetics in particular, this means a user might, at best, struggle to swim with them on, but at worst, may get flipped upside down and become trapped underwater - something that happened to me as a very young child. On the flip-side, older prosthetics were usually made of heavy materials like wood or steel, and so had the opposite problem, acting like a weight and pulling a person down if they were to wear them in the water. Water-safe prosthetics do exist, I had a pair of prosthetic legs as a teenager that were hollow, and designed especially for me to swim with fins on when swimming in the ocean, and Nadya Vessey, a double leg amputee in New Zealand even got a mermaid-tail prosthetic made especially for use in the water. Most amputees though just swim without any prosthetics at all, and in 99% of cases, this is the easiest and safest way to go.
Prosthetic-Related Pressure Sores and Pain
Many people with limb differences also experience pressure sores from their prosthetics. Modern prosthetics typically attach to the body using a socket made of carbon fiber or fiberglass, held on either by pressure, using a vacuum seal or through a mechanical locking system built into the socket. No matter the specifics though, the socket has to be very tight in order to stay on, and this means that extended periods of use can lead to rub-spots, blisters and pressure sores. Many socket prosthetics also use silicone liners to add extra padding, but this means wounds caused by the pressure can't breathe, and bacteria in sweat has nowhere to go, meaning if the person doesn't rest when one of these wounds occur, it can very easily and quickly turn into a serious infection. In a properly fitting prosthetic, used by someone who has fully adjusted to them, this doesn't happen often, but it is something most amputees and people with limb differences have to at least be mindful of. Some new prosthetics use a different method of attachment, called Osteointegration - where the prosthetic attaches to a clip, surgically implanted into the person's bones. While Osteointegration avoids many of the issues like pressure sores that come from a socket, they have their own issues: mainly that they are incredibly expensive, and as of right now, have a pretty high failure rate due to the implant getting infected. Because the implants are directly connected to the bone, these infections become very serious very quickly. Many people with Osteointegration limbs have to be on very strong medication to keep these infections at bay, and they are generally considered unsuitable for anyone who is going to regularly come into contact with "unclean" environments.
Maintenance
[ID: A screenshot of Winrey, from Full Metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white woman with blond hair handing out the sides of a green hat. She is measuring a piece of metal from a prosthetic she is making while Ed, the prosthetic's owner, gives her a thumbs up in the background. /End ID]
Finally, prosthetics also require maintenance from a specialist called a prosthetist, and they don't last forever. Some parts, like a foot or hand, can be reused over an over, but the sockets of a prosthetic need to be completely remade any time your body changes shape, including if you gain/loose weight, you start experiencing swelling, or you're just a child who is growing. Children in particular need new prosthetics every few months because they grow so fast, and as such, their prosthetics have to be made with this growth in mind. If they go too long without adjustment or an entirely new prosthetic, it can seriously impact the child and their growth but even small adjustments can be costly, depending on where you live. While prosthetics are built to be sturdy and reliable, they need a lot of work to stay that way. The more complex the prosthetic, the more work is needed. Complicated electronic components may need to have regular maintenance done by your prosthetist or even the specific component's manufacturer, and depending on where you live, this might mean having to send your prosthetic limb away for this to be done. While my prosthetist technically has the skills and knowledge to do the maintenance on my electronic knee, for example, the manufacturer forbids anyone not from their company to provide this service, meaning my leg needs to be shipped off to Germany once every few years if I want to keep the warranty. This has the unfortunate side effect of sometimes your limbs getting lost in postage (shout-out to Australia Post, who lost mine twice), meaning it can be months before you get it back or get a replacement. Usually, you'll be given a replacement in the meantime if you need it, but walking on a leg that isn't yours, even when its correctly fitted, always feels a bit weird (maybe that's just me though).
Not every difference is Inherently Negative
We've talked about some of the negatives that come from having a prosthetic, but not every difference is negative or even really that big of a deal. In fact, often times, it's these little moments in the depiction of a disability that go the furthest and make it feel the most genuine. My amputations effect me from the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to bed, but that doesn't mean every single way it impacts me is always inherently bad or negative. For example, back when I was working a normal job and going to university, I would often come home, throw my legs off at the door with the shoes still attached and get into my wheelchair, the same way you might throw your shoes off after work and replace them with comfy socks and other comfy clothing. This is something I've only ever seen on screen once, with Eda from the Owl House (and she wasn't even an amputee yet, her limbs were just detachable)
[ID: an screenshot of Eda from the owl house, a very pale woman, laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her actual legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]
After that, my day mostly looked the same as most other people working a 9 to 5, I'd make myself dinner, watch some TV or play some games, maybe do some extra work at my desk or chat with friends. The only difference is that it would all be from a wheelchair, mainly because my prosthetics were heavy and it was just easier to use the chair around the house. The fact my afternoon and evening routine was done from a wheelchair wasn't a bad thing, it was just different. Likewise, I also don't sleep or shower with my prosthetics on, for the same reasons most other people wouldn't take a shower or sleep in thigh-high, steel-capped boots. In your own stories, this might look like giving your characters similar alterations to how they go about their day. Let them take their arm or leg off when they're resting or relaxing, show them taking a few minutes longer to get ready because they have to put it back on, show them doing some things without it. Arm amputees in particular tend to get very good at going about their days without their arm prosthetics, and leg amputees often either learn to get around more relaxed spaces like their homes using a different mobility aids like wheelchairs or crutches, or just through hopping if that's something they're physically able to do. Even when everything is going well and working as intended, your limb-different character won't wear their prosthetic 24/7, no matter how much they love it. There doesn't have to be something wrong with it or painful about it to not want it glued to them at all times, just like you can love a pair of big heavy boots but not want them on when you're trying to sleep. For more action-focused stories, being an amputee, also changes things like how you fight. The specifics will vary from person to person, but for example, when I did Hap Ki Do, a Korean Martial art, my instructor heavily modified when I learned what techniques. Beginner-level kicks and most leg attacks were impractical for me, as the force from the kicking motion would usually cause one of my legs to fly off. I also couldn't jump very well, due to some complications with my original amputation that made my stumps too sensitive to withstand the force of landing again. So I ended up learning a lot more upper-body attacks much earlier than it is typically taught. By the time I got my green belt, I was practicing upper-body techniques usually saved for black belts - including weapons training that I could use my secondary mobility aids for, like crutches and my cane in a bad situation. Many holds that rely on creating tension in your target are also less effective on amputees, because either the anatomy that causes those holds to be painful just simply isn't there, or the body part in question can just be removed to escape. Whether we're talking about the negative things, or just neutral differences that come with using prosthetics, you don't want to go too far with any one example. The key is to strike a balance. Of course, the old writing advice of "show don't tell" also applies here. It's one thing to tell us all of this stuff, but unless we actually see it play out, it won't mean much.
How NOT to avoid the trope
Before we move on, let's focus for a moment on some common things I've seen that you SHOULDN'T do as a way to get away from the trope.
The Enhanced Prosthetic
A lot of sci-fi in particular will take prosthetic limbs, make them function exactly the same as a biological limb, but add something extra to it. This does change the way the prosthetic functions and is used, but it usually still ignores the actual disabling parts of having a prosthetic. A really good example of this can be seen in pretty much any futuristic setting, but personally, I think Fizzeroli, from Helluva Boss is the best one to demonstrate what I mean. Fizz is a quadrilateral, above knee/above elbow amputee with highly advanced prosthetics that function, more or less exactly like the limbs he lost, but with the added benefit of being super-stretchy. Fizz is an acrobat and a clown in service, at least initially, to Mammon, one of the Seven Deadly Sins. These prosthetics help him perform and we even do see how they change little things like how he walks and just goes about his day, but the show still treats them like natural arms and legs, but better.
[ID: A screenshot of Fizzeroli from Helluva Boss, a white-skinned imp with 4 black, prosthetic limbs, dressed in teal a nightgown as he lays in bed, reading from a list /End ID]
We see that he never takes them off, even when sleeping, and when he needs to use them as regular arms and legs, they do everything he needs, perfectly fine - at least when they're working correctly. The only time he ever even takes them off or has any issues with them, is when they break in season 2. The word amputee is never used to describe him, as far as I remember, and the fact he is one never really comes up at all, except for when they break or when the story focuses on how he lost them. Which brings me to my next point.
The Glitchy/Broken Prosthetic
One way I see people try to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to take the prosthetic and break it or otherwise make it unreliable by having it malfunction, but not really changing anything else. This approach is heading in the right direction but still kind of misses the point of the criticism a lot of limb different folks have with the depictions of prosthetics in the media. Yeah, prosthetics do break down and some do require extra maintenance, but if your character's prosthetic is still exactly the same as a biological limb (or even better, in the case of the "enhanced prosthetic") when it's not broken, and the only time their disability is treated like a disability, is when it breaks, you're not really addressing the issue. Real prosthetics, like we discussed, even when functioning at 100%, exactly as the manufacturer intended, don't function the same as a meat-limb. They are fundamentally different, and the glitchy/unreliable prosthetic completely ignores all of that. Once again, Fizz is a really good example of this - the only time his prosthetics are not perfect, is when they break or are malfunctioning (despite the criticism, I do genuinely love Fizz as a character, but he unfortunately does fall into a lot of disability tropes).
[ID: Another screenshot of Fizzeroli, this time in a torn up jester outfit, looking down, panicked, at his prosthetic arms which are fully extended and laying motionless on the ground, with his left arm visibly short-circuiting with electricity around it. /End ID]
Now this isn't to say you can't have your character's prosthetics break down or malfunction at all. just that this shouldn't be the only way you differentiate the prosthetic from a biological limb. You should also be mindful of how or why they're breaking. A typical prosthetic isn't going to break down randomly from normal use unless something is very, very wrong or your character just has a terrible prosthetist (which unfortunately, does happen). You might experience issues if you try to make the prosthetic do something it just wasn't designed to do, or expose it to something it wasn't designed to deal with though (e.g. submerging an electronic prosthetic in water and trying to use it to swim).
Just add Phantom Pain
Another common pitfall I see when people are trying to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to just give the character in question phantom pain - which is a side-effect of amputation where your brain's mental map of the body doesn't acknowledged you lost a limb. Your brain tries to fill in the gaps, since there is no signals coming from that part of the body anymore, and assumes either something must be wrong and so you should be in pain, even when you actually aren't. Alternatively, it can also happen when your brain was so used to feeling pain from that area before, in the case of people who had chronic conditions before they lost their limb, that it just keeps remaking those old signals itself. Like the broken/glitchy prosthetic approach, this also doesn't really address the issue with the perfect prosthetic trope, because it has nothing to do with the prosthetic itself. Phantom pain doesn't come from the prosthetic, nor does it effect how they're used, and so including it doesn't really address the issue of the prosthetic being functionally the same as the original, biological limb. This isn't to say that you shouldn't include phantom limb sensation or pain as something your character experiences, but just keep in mind that, when used on it's own, it doesn't counter the trope. Also, just be sure to do your research, everyone's experience with phantom pain is different and it's not something everyone with a limb difference even experiences.
Why is this trope even a problem?
Alright, so we know what the trope is, we know why it became so prevalent, ways to avoid it and also how not to avoid it. All good information, but why is this trope even bad? Why should you try to avoid it? Outside of just wanting to portray a real disability that effects real people more accurately in your creations, the prevalence of this trope actually contributes to a lot of real-world issues, especially when it's as overused as it currently is. I've talked before about "the jaws effect" - where the depiction of something in the media, especially something that the public is widely uneducated on, influences how people see it in real life. The Jaws effect specifically referred to how the popularity of creature-feature movies featuring sharks, like Jaws, caused the belief that sharks were monstrous killing machines to become much more wide-spread, even going so far as to influence decisions about laws and policy surrounding real-life shark preservation and culling in some parts of the world. But sharks aren't the only thing this has happened to.
Disabled people are so thoroughly misunderstood by wider society, that when tropes like this one become popular, people can and often do start to believe the misinformation they spread - in this case, believing that our prosthetics are a perfect replacement for a biological limb, and that getting a prosthetic means you're not disabled any more. While this can be annoying and cause small scale issues for some of us, like people giving us a hard time for using disability accommodations we very much need, it can also impact us in systemic ways too. If the wrong people believe these tropes, it can and does have a very real impact on the lives of disabled people through things like changes to policies to make it harder for amputees and people with limb differences to access financial assistance for other things outside of our prosthetics we may need assistance with.
Conclusion
Despite the very real harm tropes like this can do when it's overused, I don't think it should go away entirely. Some of my favourite pieces of media even use the perfect prosthetic trope and there are even some kinds of media where I even think it's somewhat unavoidable. Characters with perfect prosthetics in kids media in particular, especially when talking about side characters, can help to correct some of the other stereotypes kids may have seen elsewhere - such as prosthetics being "creepy" or "scary" - in a way that is casual and easy for them to understand. The problem with the trope, in my eyes, is it's excessive overuse. It's the fact that it seems to be the only representation amputees and people with limb differences are getting now. Not every story with a limb-different character can or even should delve into the reality of what using prosthetics is actually like, but we need at least some stories that do, without it being this majorly depressing thing.
#Writing disability with Cy Cyborg#Disability tropes#Long Post#Disability Representation#Writing Disability#Writing#Writeblr#Authors#Creators#Writing Advice#Disabled Characters#On Writing#Disability in Media
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Eden
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...
I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.
Word Count: 4.2k
Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3
Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers.
Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer.
“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered.
“Are you sure?”
You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him.
“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.
“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict.
Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.
“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.
“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.
The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.
“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.
——
“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.
“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.
“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.
“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room.
“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.
“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.
“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”
“Hey…!” Benedict protests.
“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”
You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby.
“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you.
You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.
“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.
“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.
As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.
——
“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?”
Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later.
“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.
“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.
“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse.
The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank.
“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”
You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.
Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”
You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”
“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”
“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.
“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.
You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours. “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.
He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome.
Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.
“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.
Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot.
“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is.
You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.
He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.
“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.
“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.
This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body.
“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.
He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.
“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”
You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.
“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.
With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area.
As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.
He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.
“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.” His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.
“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise.
“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”
Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.
“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you.
“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.
You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time.
You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.
“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.
With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.
Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.
“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”
“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.
“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly.
He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does.
“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.
Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.
“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone.
“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.
He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage.
Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.
You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.
“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.
He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.
You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.
“Perfect..” he intones.
In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm.
“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.
His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…
“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.
“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.
Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.
“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”
He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.
You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.
You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.
“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.
That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.
“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.
——
As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.
“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.
“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.
“Even if it is a girl?!”
“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.
He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.
“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.
“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.
“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”
There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.
“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.
“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”
“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.
The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.
——
9 months later
Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.
But it was all worth it.
What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.
“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.
You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”
His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.
“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”
“Four?” he petitions with a wink.
You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.
“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world.
Which to you both, they are.
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“𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫’𝐬”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! praising degradation, daddy/mama/brat, hints of jealousy/possessive!stoner!suguru, squirting, teasing, choking, squirting, mating press, pain kink, size kink, two fingers in your ass, mindbreak/getting cockdrunk, begging, a momentary just the tip moment, riding him, overstimulation, breeding, stuffing his cum into you, some spanking
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! I have a praise kink and a degradation kink, I need Geto to tell me that I'm his favourite dirty little slut and absolutely nail me to the mattress while doing 🥵🥵🥵
Oreo: I was thinking of a part two of stoner!suguru with this one, even though he doesn't smoke. I like the follow up of him finally deciding he wants to be more than just friends
Slapping your soft cunt and yanking your legs back open when you go to black the next hit. He demands, “Color?” Leaning forward, towering over you to make you feel smaller.
Using his weight to keep you pinned in a firm mating press. His thick cock nudging your soft cunt. Shoving your hips trying to best to glide an inch in your sore cunt. Eager for the sweet pleasure to cut through the pain.
You whine, “Green! Please don't be mad! I didn't mean to make you jealous, didn't think.” He grabs your throat, tightly squeezing.
“Didn't think I’d want your beautiful ass all to myself?” Softly kissing your forehead, smiling down at you tightening his grasp around your neck.
He croons, “Mama we've been living together and fucked on nearly every surface of his apartment. N’ you spent every night in my bed, so tell me whose are you?” Letting your neck go, grabbing your hands putting them above your hand.
“Who takes care of you?” By the time you catch your breath, he slaps your cunt harder than before. Stuffing one thick finger in softly curling it stroking your sweet spot to ease your discomfort.
Reaching for Suguru he pins your wrists together with one large hand. Gliding a second finger in, touching your clit, and then nothing. Suguru refuses to move his fingers.
The lack of stimulation makes it easier to think. You look into Suguru’s loving, dark chocolate eyes. “You do! I love the life we have made, our routine. I adore how you notice the little things about me.” He pumps his fingers twice, then stops. “I love the softness in your voice when you say name.” He softly rubs your clit and slowly pumps his fingers, stroking your sweet spot.
He purses his lips and looks at his side table whilst admitting, “I supposed I never outright asked you.” The passionate, hungry intensity in his dark brown eyes is exciting. Suguru glides his fingers out smirking when you whine.
Dipping his head watching your soft hole clenching nothing. “This is also too much fun. I’ll take any chance I get to fuck into your head that you’re mine.” Teasing you with a small swirl of his thumb.
“Please!” Wiggling your hips trying to slips his thumb in, Suguru pulls away. Leaving you on the edge of the bed with your legs spread and your cunt yearning to stimulation.
Opening the bottom bedside drawer pulling out a long black box. Taking out a necklace whilst walking around the bed, standing in front of it. There is a S dangling from a thin chain.
He softly smiles, “Do you wanna be with me?” He unfastens the clasp holding the necklace open.
You stand up on his bed “Yes!” Wrapping your arms around him. Suguru bites the second his head gets near your chest. You cunt clenches from the sweet pain.
Slipping your hand into Suguru’s soft hair, softly tugging making him groan and bucks his hips. “Sit down for me mama lemma slip this on you before I rearrange your guts.” You kneel close to the edge of the bed.
Suguru carefully puts the necklace on you. He softly kisses the top of your head. You insist, “I need to get you something, or do something for you.” He grabs your throat pinning you to the bed, slapping your soft cunt.
“How about you take my cock like a good slut?” He grabs his cock, lining himself up. Giving your neck a tighter squeeze before letting go. He leans back to watch your soft tight cunt stretch for his thick cockhead.
He grabs your thighs, pinning you in a mating press. Groaning as he glides his thick head in and out. Watching the soft ridge of his cock head tug on your soft cunt. “Such a pretty little cunt, love see her stretch nm grip my cock like she doesn’t wanna let me go.”
You plea, “Please lemme feel the rest of you. Wanna feel all of your cock! Daddy please!” He roughly rocks his hips forward, giving you all of his thick veiny cock.
Suguru doesn’t move his hard cock, stroking your clit. Groaning when you clench him. He croons, “Daddy what? I’m letting you feel all of my cock what else doesn’t my pretty little slut need?”
Begging Suguru, “Daddy please fuck me! Fuck your slut into a stupid mess! Wanna be your beautiful spoiled cocky sleeve. Please fuck me however you want!” He grabs your hips, lifting your lower half off the bed.
Using his firm grasp to help you meet his rough thrusts. His hips slapping yours. The bed softly rocking, his heavy wooden headboard tapping the wall. “Nnn fuck fuck fuck! Gonna breed ya? Ya want that? Ya wanna be pretty little cum filled whore?” Your cunt spams around his cunt.
His hard cock stroking, stretching and hitting your cunt perfectly. Sweet intense pleasure makes it hard to think. Why should you bother when you can mindlessly take Suguru’s fat cock?
“Nnnnn! Hhhhnnn! Mmm fuckkkk! Feelsgoodfeelsnnn!” You grab the bedsheets. Unable to think about anything else but how good his cock feels in your cunt. Nothing else matters but your boyfriend’s large hands, thick cock, sweet groans, and the way he is admiring you.
Suguru croons, “Are ya my mindless cock hungry slut? Mmm? Want me to bully your soft tight cunt?” Keeping his pace the same and fucking his cock into you hard.
You muster the words to answer Suguru beyond, “Daddy! Daddy! Nnn! Bully the brat outta me!” Suguru leans over you, grabbing your neck to lift you off the bed. You feel so small in his grasp, so perfectly helpless to do anything but take his cock.
Bouncing you faster on his thick cock, his moans getting louder, breathier. “Sofuckingood wanna cum in your soft cunt! Been thinking about it all I’ve been able to think about since I saw you flirting with him. I should’ve fucked in ya in the bathroom then sent you back over with my cum leaking out.” Your cunt clenches.
Suguru smirks, “Of course a slut like you would like that. You’re daddy’s little slut, remember that.”
You’re getting on his possessiveness and manhandling. Grabbing his thick hard biceps, digging in your nails when he flexes. “Daddy’s so big!” Your words trigger something within Suguru.
Without gliding his cock out he flips you over pinning you to the bed. With your ass arched in the air and a firm grasp on your hair, keeping your face out of the pillow.
Using his weight to keep you from wiggling away from him mercilessly. “Gonna fuck my cum into you, don’t wanna stop. Wanna keep fucking my big cock into your sweet cunt.” You can feel his cock’s veins pulse as he’s getting closer.
His balls are slapping your clit with each rough thrust. Your ass clapping, your soaking wet cunt squelching.
You love how whiny Suguru is the closer he is. The way his body shivers on top of you, his rough smooth pace momentarily faltering. He whines, “What am I?”
Slipping your fingers into Suguru’s soft dark hair. “Daddy! Mine! Daddy! You’re too much! Too much! Too good. Please cum!” He yanks your head to the side, hunching over to bite your throat.
Warm thick cum trickles and spurts into your soft cunt. Your cunt spasms then gush, thick slick trickling down your thighs. Suguru groans, his pace sloppy and rough.
There is something so carnal about Suguru biting your keep whilst firmly pinning you down to fuck his cum into. You want more, more of his thick cock and warm cum.
You whine, grinding your hips when he falters and stops. “Suguru!” He rolls over with you on top. Keeping his cum deep in you with his cock.
Right away you take the chance, grabbing his thick thighs, lifting your hips, and bouncing on Suguru’s cock. Moaning, trembling, toes curling. Getting off on using his cock like a dildo. Whilst knowing your soft tight cunt is overwhelming him with each stroke.
Leaning forward giving him a good view of your soft cunt taking his cock. His thick cum trickles out of your cunt and coats his thick cock. “Can’t get over how deep your fat cock is. It’s stuffing your cum in so deep!”
Looking over your shoulder to see Suguru. “Thought you were gonna teach my slutty ass a lesson?” Suguru smirks then sucks on two thick fingers. Your cunt clenches when he touches your asshole. Smearing his spit then gliding both fingers in.
He stretches his fingers apart spreading your asshole. Your pace falters, he isn’t moving his fingers. “Teach you what? That you’re such a desperate whore. I think ya know that with how you’re bouncing on my thick cock like it’s all you can think about.” Slowly fucking his fingers into your soft ass.
“Go on mama tire your little pretty bratty ass out. I wanna hear you beg me to fuck ya when your legs get too tired.”
Oreo m.list
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto suguru smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto x you#geto x y/n#getou x reader#getou suguru smut#getou smut#getou suguru x reader
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Crook Manifesto by Colson Whitehead (Ray Carney #2)
1971 – Trash is piled on the streets, crime is at a record high, and the city is careening towards bankruptcy. A shooting war has broken out between the NYPD and the Black Liberation Army. Ray Carney, furniture-store owner and ex fence, is trying to keep his head down, his business up, and his life on the straight and narrow. His only immediate need is Jackson 5 tickets for his daughter May, so what harm could it do to hit up Munson, his old police contact and fixer extraordinaire? And suddenly, staying out of the game becomes more complicated – and deadly. When one of Ray’s tenants is badly injured in a fire, he enlists the enduringly violent Pepper to look into how it started, leading the duo to battle their way through a crumbling metropolis run by the shady, the violent and the utterly corrupt.
In scalpel-sharp prose and with unnerving clarity and wit, Colson Whitehead writes about a city that runs on cronyism, threats, ego, ambition, incompetence and even, sometimes, pride. Crook Manifesto is a kaleidoscopic portrait of Harlem, and a searching portrait of how families work in the face of indifference, chaos and hostility.
Book page: https://www.littlebrown.co.uk/titles/colson-whitehead/crook-manifesto/9780349727646/
My Review: Colson Whitehead is one of my favorite contemporary writers. I think I could read his shopping list and write something like “Brilliant, exciting, strongly recommended” as my brain starts to fangirling and loving every single sentence. I loved his books since I read The Underground Railroad, had a sort of mystical epiphany when I read the Nickel Boy and it was a constant literary love, this means Crook Manifesto was one of my top books of 2023. I know that you usually end a book before reviewing but I’m loving it so much that I cannot wait to talk about it. New York, Harlem, the social changes of the 70s are at the core of this brilliant story. There’s violence, there’s fun and there a lot of food for thought as you wonder if the story is going to repeat. I was curious to read about Ray Carney new enterprises and wondering what would happen. I wasn’t disappointed and I can tell this is a great story, a book that brought me back in time and showed me another side of New York. As I grew up listening to Patti Smith and Television my vision of the city was quite arty and bohemian. This story shows the other city and showed me how normal people was living, the racism and the social issues. It was like travelling back in time to a parallel reality and discovering new aspects and event. The storytelling, the character and plot development are as super as usual and I’m not fangirling while I write this. I strongly recommend it and cannot wait to read the third book in the Harlem Trilogy Many thanks to Little, Brown Book Group UK for this ARC, all opinions are mine.
The Author: Colson Whitehead is a multi-award winning and bestselling author whose works include The Nickel Boys, The Underground Railroad, The Noble Hustle, Zone One, Sag Harbor, The Intuitionist, John Henry Days, Apex Hides the Hurt and a collection of essays, The Colossus of New York. He is one of only four novelists to win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction twice and is a recipient of MacArthur and Guggenheim fellowships. For The Underground Railroad, Whitehead won the National Book Award, the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, the Arthur C. Clarke Award for Fiction, the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence and was longlisted for the Booker Prize. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for a second time for The Nickel Boys, which also won the George Orwell Prize for Political Fiction and The Kirkus Prize. The Underground Railroad has been adapted as an Amazon Prime TV series, produced and directed by the Academy Award winning director Barry Jenkins, and was broadcast in 2021. He lives with his family in New York City.
Website http://www.colsonwhitehead.com/ Twitter: colsonwhitehead
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Pretty Boy
Harry Potter x fem!reader
WC: 563
CW: mentions of the Dursleys being neglectful; FLUFF
Summary: You love to make your boyfriend embarassed
Day 21 of mk's mad dash
Sadly, your boyfriend grew up without any affection from his family. So, it was no surprise that any affection he was shown was foreign to him. And, in some cases, maybe even a little embarrassing. You remembered the early days of your relationship- how even a peck on his cheek or a hug would make him blush furiously. With time, of course, he became more comfortable in your affection and even initiated it himself. Still, occasionally, you were able to bring back out his shy side, intentionally or not.
In this instance, you were very intentional about trying to make your boyfriend blush. After he’d called you pretty girl a few weeks ago and left you a flustered mess, you were determined to get revenge.
You decided to act completely unassuming, only throwing the term of endearment back in his face when he was most vulnerable and sweet in your arms.
After a long Friday of classes, you brought Harry back to your dorm to cuddle and relax, simply enjoying one another’s presence. You snuck some food from the kitchens that now left you both feeling stuffed and satisfied. In your current position you were laying sprawled out, back on the bed and Harry nearly entirely on top of you.
In your post-dinner bliss, you two had gone mostly silent, reveling in each other’s company and touch. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through Harry’s wild black hair, pursuing a pointless mission of trying to untangle his curls.
Your boyfriend’s face was buried in your neck, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to your skin when the urge presented itself.
When your fingers made their way to the nape of his neck, Harry hummed softly against you.
“Feel good, Haz?”
“Yeah, baby. So good. Love when you play with my hair,” he sighed.
You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, “Good. You deserve to be spoiled, you know.”
“Why? ‘Cos my parents are dead?” he mumbled.
To those who didn’t know your boyfriend, this type of comment would’ve left them floored. But for you, who was used to his dark humor, you only laughed disbelievingly, squeezing his arm chidingly, “Harry!”
“Well?”
You pressed another fond kiss against his skin, this time to his cheek, “You deserve to be spoiled because I love you and because you’re a sweet boy.”
Then more quietly you whispered, “my sweet boy.”
Harry raised his head from its home in your neck and pecked your lips lovingly, “love you, baby.”
You knew that now was the time to strike.
“I love you too, my pretty boy.”
Your boyfriend’s face went from loving to embarrassed in seconds, his brown skin coloring red.
He whined and buried his face back in your neck.
“What’s wrong my love,” you asked teasingly.
“You know what’s wrong,” he grumbled, “you did it on purpose.”
“Did what on purpose?”
Harry looked back up at you, the most adorable pout gracing his lips, “You called me…. pretty boy…. just to make me embarrassed.”
“I said what I meant,” you answered honestly, “though the teasing was a benefit.”
Your boyfriend continued to pout at you, “I hate you.”
“You love me,” you reminded him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t feel so embarrassed right now.”
“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, pretty girl.”
And damn him, because now you were the one left a blushing mess.
#mk's mad dash#harry potter x you#harry potter x reader#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter series#hp fanfic#harry potter fic#harry potter x fem!reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter drabble#harry potter one shot#harry james potter#harry james potter x reader#harry james potter x you#harry james potter x y/n#harry james potter x fem!reader#harry potter#harry potter fluff#harry potter comfort
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a touch of emotion
Connor x Reader
Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.
A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3
Masterlist
"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.
"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."
A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.
He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.
Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.
"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."
Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.
And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.
You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.
Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.
You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?
"You okay?"
Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.
You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.
"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.
"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.
You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."
There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.
"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.
"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.
Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.
Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.
It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.
How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?
Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.
Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.
"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.
Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.
"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."
It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.
"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"
"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.
You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.
When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.
Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.
Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.
You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.
Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.
"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."
Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.
As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us
#connor dbh x reader#connor rk800#connor rk800 x reader#dbh connor#connor imagine#detroit become human#dbh#dbh rk800#connor x reader#connor x you#dbh x reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#my story
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Idea for smutty request: virgin Eddie who has never even eaten a girl out so he asks if he can practice by eating reader’s pussy…. Ofc reader says yes cos she’s had a crush on Eddie for forever
a/n: I’ve been working on this for months. So for that, I apologize!
warnings: reader with titties, cunningulus, mentions of a shitty ex-partner. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything.
“You sure?”
“Ed—.”
He held up his hands in defeat, licking his lips anxiously. “I just wanna — I don’t wanna fuck this,” and he gestures between the two of you, “Up. Our friendship. You know?”
“I know.”
Eddie stares at you, deep brown boring into you as if looking for a flicker of doubt. There was none. Your friendship with him meant the world, and when he approached you with his request, well. You could never deny him anything. Your heart stammered and you could feel your cheeks heat, but you agreed.
His room had always been a safe space. The smell of old spice, burning wood, and Marlboro’s infiltrated your lungs, causing the tension in your body to uncoil. Ever the gentleman, Eddie made sure to clean up for you, have bottled water on the bedside table and extra pillows at the ready.
You started to shimmy out of your shorts, but Eddie’s hands replaced yours, fingers caressing every bit of skin as it’s revealed. “You’re so fucking pretty,” his tone is awe-struck as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Thighs squeeze together and he takes note, a sly little smile curling his lips. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Nothing.”
He lifts a brow.
“Promise. Just never been referred to as ‘pretty’ before.”
The metal head blinks at you slowly as if he can’t process what you’re saying. “Not even Chad or whatever-the-fuck that dick ex’s name is?”
You shake your head.
“Asshole.” Eddie declares, strong hands finding yours, fingers threading together. “If you were mine… I’d tell you every damn day. You’re gorgeous. Not that you need my or anyone else’s validation.” His eyes soften, “Thank you for this.” It’s the first time you see a hint of vulnerability cross his features cutting through all the bravado. It makes your chest squeeze with affection.
He wastes no time, peeling away your underwear. You resist the urge to slam your legs together, shyness taking over. “No hiding,” as if he can read your thoughts, his eyes are the softest brown, pools of warmth you could get lost in.
Eddie kisses along your thighs, nipping gently, experimentally. Your breath hitches and he chuckles, hot breath fanning over you. A whine emits from the very back of your throat. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya?” He licks his lips before he leans forward, kissing directly onto your seam, head buried between your legs. He nestles his nose against the thatch of curls there, breathing in your scent.
Eddie’s breath is warm, the flat of his tongue dares to spread you apart for him, flicking upward toward your clit. He’s slow, calculated, watching your expressions for some guidance.
“Jesus Christ,” you moan, he takes a part of your labia into his mouth and sucks softly, humming around you , “you’re - you’re sure you’ve never done this b-before?”
You can feel him smile against your cunt, before his tongue dips, finding your entrance. You gasp, hands grabbing those wild locks of his, tugging sharply. He groans, deep and reverberating, the muscle curling inside of you, working in and out, searching for that spot. You grind your hips down, desperate for more friction. “God, Eddie - fuck -!” It doesn’t take much before you’re arching off the bed.
“Mmmhm.” He’s drinking you down, lapping and slurping at everything you have to offer. A calloused thumb finds your neglected clit, circling it in tandem with the actions of his mouth. Your own hangs open, spewing expletives, moans, praises, gibberish and Eddie revels in it.
The coil in your stomach snaps sooner than you’d like and you’re cumming, clenching around his tongue while white hot pleasure burns through you. He continues, working you through your climax until you’re pulling him off, tears streaming down your face. You both lock gazes, his cheeks are rosy, lips covered in your spend, eyes heavy with lust. As for you, your face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body flush.
Eddie makes his way up to you, caging you in between his arms, hair falling in curtains to frame his face. He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.
It’s just the two of you against the world, all panting breathes and longing gazes.
He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a second you feel a pang of fear that maybe he was having second thoughts. That this whole thing was a mistake and you should just forget it.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asks.
You blink owlishly.
“Or - or we can not do that - that was a stupid suggestion, forget I said any- .”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Thank fuck.”
#dd writes#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson/reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson/you
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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬
Satoru Gojo
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: Your best friend gets a new boyfriend, and you come to see him in a different light.
Warnings: MDNI, Angst, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Hair descriptions for reader
*This is a commission for @mew4-ever18, it's the prequel to Pretty Little Liar! If you haven't read it yet, I recommend reading it after this🙂↕️ Anything that doesn't match up, remember that this is written after Pretty Little Liar
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
“Hey, Le–” You begin, but you stop yourself when you see your co-worker is chatting with someone. You aren’t all that familiar with the building, but you’re here to work on a new system for the corporation’s computers. You aren’t familiar with the people, therefore you have no idea who Levi talks to.
You stare at the man, sitting down on a chair as if he owned the place. He clicks a pen over and over again as he speaks with Levi. You take note of his unusual white hair color; strange for a man like him, considering you’re around the same age. He certainly doesn’t belong in the IT department.
You make brief eye contact with his bright blue eyes before turning your attention to the computers… You almost feel flustered at the brief interaction– Something that can barely be considered an interaction. You listen in on the conversation,
“When are you coming over, Satoru? My wife is thrilled for you to meet the kids.” Levi speaks, and Satoru shrugs in response. The name makes you furrow your eyebrows… Satoru, you feel like you’ve heard the name before.
“I’ve been busy, Levi. I barely have a moment to myself.” Satoru responds, making Levi click his tongue. It’s almost as if Levi doesn’t believe it.
“Right, busy. That’s why you’re here.” Levi replies as he joins you to work on the computers. Satoru chuckles, and you feel your face get warm. He has a cute laugh at least. You know you won’t be bothered by him snorting as you work.
“I don’t know, Levi. He looks pretty busy to me.” You joke, making both men laugh. They continue their conversations as you work. It’s pretty trivial, nothing that’s noteworthy to you until Satoru speaks up,
“They’re using the café for some stupid shit on Friday.” Which sparks up your attention. You remember your best friend, Ali, mentioning something about a meet and greet. An event that she’s been obsessing over because her rival is showing up. “Something about influencers meet and greet. I can’t imagine being so obsessed with someone that you’ve never seen, that you’ll pay to meet them.”
“You’re so judgy, Satoru. Maybe use that opportunity to get a girlfriend.” Levi answers.
“Like hell I’d pay to meet someone.” Satoru quickly responds, making Levi roll his eyes.
“Your father owns the building, I’m sure you can get in without a hitch.” Levi responds, making your eyes widen. You stare back at Satoru, and his eyes are as wide as yours. His cover has been blown, all thanks to Levi.
“I’m not–” He begins, but you shake your head as a chuckle escapes your lips.
“Your secret is safe with me.” Your fingers do a zipping motion across your lips, which makes a subtle smile appear on his lips.
“Your hair is really pretty by the way.” He says, eyes staring at your curly brown hair. You smile at him, muttering a barely audible thank you, before turning around and focusing on your job. They chat for another minute before Levi tells him,
“Go back to work, Gojo. We don’t need your dad coming down here and turning the place upside down.” Which makes Satoru cross his arms and pout as if he were a child. You look back at him and laugh at his reaction.
Satoru makes a joking comment before standing up and leaving the place, finally going back to his job.
“I can’t wait for the weekend, I’m tired.” You comment as you chop up some vegetables, getting dinner ready for you and your best friend. Ali sits in the living room, staring at her phone.
You can only assume that she’s editing some pictures to post. She’s so close to two million followers, and she’s posting just about anything to get attention. Or maybe she’s looking for outfit ideas, considering she’s going to be at the same place as Mai– She’s only reminded you over a hundred times that Mai’s her rival. One thing about Ali, she’ll make sure to stand out.
“Did I tell you what happened at work today? Some guy had an accident and they had to call an ambulance.” You continue talking, only to be met by hums. At least she’s listening, that’s what you tell yourself. You know that she’s busy and nervous for the event so you can’t blame her for not paying much attention.
You continue talking to her, not met by a single word from her. Not until you say something that catches her attention, “I also met the COO, I think his name was Satoru?”
“Gojo?!” She quickly questions, and you nod in response. She seems excited at the response, as if she knows exactly who Satoru is.
You furrow your eyebrows before asking her, “Do you know who he is?”
“Of course I know who he is! He’s the most eligible bachelor in the city– Not to mention he’s our age.” She explains, and you’re surprised to see her so excited at the mention of Satoru. You should know by this point though. It’s even more surprising to hear her say, “Did you guys talk? What happened?”
“Oh, there wasn’t much to say. Him and my coworker were just talking about the event on Friday and that’s about it.” You tell her, and there’s a spark of hope in her eyes. She doesn’t have to ask before you gently let her down. “I don’t think he’s going… He did say he’s busy.”
“Oh.” Her excitement quickly turns sour, and you can’t help but feel bad for your best friend.
“But maybe you’ll bump into each other! Satoru is really sweet, he complimented my hair.” You share, a bit of a dumb smile on your lips as you recall the moment. He’s really handsome, and to be complimented by him is utter flattery.
You fail to notice how Ali rolls her eyes, a complete look of jealousy taking over her face. She lets out a small sigh before telling you, “Oh, dear. You’re just naive.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You innocently reply, and there’s a pitiful look in her eyes. It’s as if she feels sorry for you.
“I’ve heard he does it to everyone… He’s a bit of a flirt.” She answers, and you raise your eyebrows. You let out a low chuckle before nodding in response.
“I wasn���t thinking much of it.” You reply, though your flattery fades away in a matter of seconds. She’s right, why did you even think much of such a simple compliment?
You continue talking, and as the conversation shifts from Satoru, she loses her interest once again.
Satoru doesn’t really care for coffee, but right now he can’t keep his eyes open. He needs to drink something to stay awake. He tried to slack off with Levi, but it seems that Levi would rather help his wife than help Satoru avoid work.
Satoru gets to the first floor of the building, and sees the line to enter the café. It’d be more time effective to get into his car and drive away, but he won’t do that. Satoru technically owns the building, so he should be able to skip the line without a problem. He ignores the complaints and yells from the people in the line.
Security lets him in without an issue, considering he’s very easy to recognize. One must be living under a rock to not recognize who Satoru Gojo is.
The man plans on simply getting a coffee and leaving. Before his plan can even start, something catches his eye– Someone. They make eye contact before she turns her attention to a fan. She smiles brightly at them, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.
He should just get his coffee and leave, she’s not the type of woman that Satoru would go for. The self-absorbed type. The type that he’d go after just for sex– It’s not that Satoru doesn’t like women that are self confident, he just doesn’t like when they can only talk about themselves.
Even with his internal dilemma, he decides to step toward her. They grin at each other before she speaks up,
“Hey. Here for a picture?” Which makes him chuckle. He ends up nodding, because he’d be a fool to say no to her. The same man that was talking bad about the event is now glad that it’s happening in this building.
He leans down to take a selfie with her, both of them smiling brightly at the camera. There’s someone else waiting to meet her, but they can wait. Her attention is completely on Satoru.
“I’m Allison by the way.” She tells him, extending her hand for Satoru to take. He laughs again, taking her hand. It was easy for her to know that Satoru had no idea of her existence… But he still wanted a picture.
“I’m Satoru.” He introduces himself, and he knows that she knows who he is. The man looks back at the line that is waiting to meet the woman, and he asks, “Am I holding up the line?”
“Oh, no!” She doesn’t skip a beat. It’s clear that she doesn’t want the man to leave so soon, not until she gets his number. “I mean, I’ve got all day.”
“I wouldn’t want some of the men in the line to–” Satoru looks back at the line, filled with grown men that are here simply to talk to Ali. He’s definitely interrupting, but she doesn’t seem to care so why should he? “Ah, who cares in the end? I’m talking to a very gorgeous woman, to hell with them.”
“I’m flattered.” She answers, and they continue their conversation. Other people in line grow desperate, a meet up that’s supposed to last two minutes has been extended by eight minutes. It’s not ending anytime soon either.
After a couple more minutes, Satoru hands her his phone, telling her, “How about you give me your number so we can talk a bit more?”
“I’d love to.” She smiles, not hesitating before giving him her number. She smiles, knowing that this is just the beginning of something wonderful with Satoru.
It’s nothing serious. Satoru just wants to meet up with Ali for one thing and one thing only. It’s not like he’s deceiving her as he texts her, Satoru makes it clear that she knows that he only wants sex. She’s clearly fine with it, from what he can tell.
They agree to meet up at a hotel that isn’t too far from the café. Neither of them have to drive too much to meet up with each other. Satoru’s penthouse is nearby, but that’ll just turn things more personal than what they need to be.
Satoru gets to the hotel, where he finds Ali waiting in reception. She’s eagerly looking around, excited to lay her eyes on him. He smiles at her when she finally sees him. Ali doesn’t waste a single second on walking over toward him, opening her arms to hug him.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long.” Satoru comments, as his hand grabs hers. She shakes her head, assuring him that she wasn’t there for too long.
“Shall we go?” He asks, and she nods in response. She makes conversation, while Satoru prefers to stay quiet. He’s not trying to hide the fact that he isn’t looking for something more.
He’s at the hotel for sex. He doesn’t have to engage in conversation because he’s made his intentions clear.
And even with his very clear intentions, when he wakes up in the morning, he still takes her to breakfast. He feels a twinge of guilt as he watches her sleep beside him. He doesn’t know what it is– Perhaps it was something she said last night that makes him feel like this.
He’ll take her for breakfast before giving her a proper goodbye.
Ali comes home a little past noon, wearing the same clothes as the previous day. You can’t help but notice immediately when she walks through the door. You’re not one that keeps tabs on her, after all, Ali is grown– But you can’t lie, you were worried. She had failed to tell you about any plans after the event, and she didn’t answer any of your messages.
“I’m home!” She sings, clearly elated about something. You can already form the picture. One of her fans was more handsome than she intended and she couldn’t help herself. You’re happy for her.
“Glad to see you’re okay.” You tell her, not caring to look up much from your phone. You know her, she’ll end up locking herself in her room for the rest of the day to catch up on sleep. You think you have her all figured out until she sits beside you on the couch. You look up at her, curious. “What happened?”
“Do you remember Satoru Gojo?” She can’t hide her smile. You nod in response, furrowing your eyebrows as you think about him. In what possible scenario would they– No. No no no. “He went to the meet and greet yesterday and he asked for my number!”
“That’s great, Ali!” You tell her, a little shocked about it. You would’ve sworn that he’d never show up to the meet and greet, but it seems that he changed his mind at the last second. However, the story clearly doesn’t stop there, otherwise she wouldn’t be wearing yesterday’s clothes.
“We kept texting all day before we agreed to meet up at a hotel and let me tell you!” She excitedly continues, but your interest is quickly lost. You don’t want to hear about Ali’s wonderful night with Satoru. You love her to death, but you don’t need the details of her sexual life. “He’s so passionate, my goodness! He kept going all night and–”
She continues, and you feel queasy at every detail. Ali just can’t keep stuff to herself. You won’t lie and say you aren’t a bit disappointed as she tells you everything. It means that Satoru is completely off limits now. Though, you don’t believe that you ever had a chance with him.
You’re happy for her, especially when she says, “He’s the man of my dreams, I’m telling you. We’re destined to be together.”
“I’m so happy for you, Ali.” You respond, and she has a hint of smugness in her expression. It’s not something you pick up on.
You swear that she tells you out of pure excitement since she’s your best friend, and you’re her best friend as well.
Something that was meant to be a one night stand has turned into something more. It has no labels, that’s something that Satoru makes clear; something that Ali complains to you about every other day. Every single day she mentions Satoru, without failing to bring up how lucky she is.
It’s been two months, and Ali is expecting some sort of commitment from Satoru. She knows she can’t force it, but she’s slowly growing impatient. It’s something that has become clear to Satoru as well.
Satoru intends to let her down gently, but there’s never a right time. He’s walking her back to her hotel room after a very eventful day.
There’s never a right time because they spend a lot of time together. Very stupidly he decided to invite her overseas for her birthday. He’s not committing to her, but he’s very much giving her mixed signals.
“You know, Satoru, I love spending time with you.” Ali suddenly says, and Satoru’s eyebrows perk up. He’s about to ask why, but she reads his mind. “You make me feel seen… Usually when I’m with a man they make me feel like I’m some sort of object…”
“I’m glad that you feel that way around me.” Satoru weakly smiles, feeling his ears get red. She says that as if Satoru isn’t similar to them. They’re just hooking up.
They get to the door of her hotel room, and she proceeds to kiss his cheek. She squeezes his hands as she tells him, “Thank you for seeing me as someone more than just–”
“You don’t have to mention it.” He unintentionally cuts her off. He doesn’t want to hear it, knowing that he’s not as different as she claims he is.
“Thank you for inviting me out here. This place is truly beautiful.” She smiles brightly at him, unable to hide her happiness. “Bringing me here for my birthday was really thoughtful, I don’t know how to repay you.”
“You don’t have to repay me.” He assures her, placing a kiss on her forehead. He’s meant to let her down gently because he’s allowed this relationship to stray too far… But dumping a woman on her birthday? “Happy birthday, Ali.”
“Will you join me in my room? I want to watch a movie.” She asks, and Satoru bites down his lip before nodding in response. She opens the door to her room, and he sighs before speaking up.
“Ali, would you like to be my girlfriend?” It sounds forced and something he’d say out of pure guilt. Any other woman would be able to pick up on it by his tone, but Ali does not care. Her face lights up and she throws her arms over Satoru’s shoulders. She kisses him, her wordless answer to his question.
A label-less relationship has suddenly obtained a label. The last thing that Satoru wanted.
Ali invites you out the moment she gets back from her trip. You assume it’s her way to apologize for leaving you stranded. You had a special birthday surprise for her, only to find out that she was out of the country by her social media. Ali has a bad habit of leaving you in the dark.
She’s making it up by inviting you to a restaurant that’s absolutely out of your budget. You can’t believe your eyes once you’re outside of the place. You’ve heard of it before but you knew it was well out of your price range. She’s most definitely inviting you here to apologize since she sensed you were being a little cold with her lately.
You give your car keys to the valet and make your way into the place. You can’t help but feel a little out of place once you walk inside, but there isn’t much you can do about it. You give the host Ali’s name, and you’re quickly guided to the table.
Your eyes fall on her, a smile coming to your lips as you see your best friend. However, the smile quickly fades when you see that she isn’t alone. It strikes you that this isn’t an apology, but rather her introducing you to her boyfriend.
You can’t lie and say that you aren’t disappointed, but it’s easy to brush off. You’re still here with her, it shouldn’t matter.
“Hi.” You greet them, eyes lingering on Ali. You briefly look at Satoru, and you can tell that he doesn’t remember you. You were just a face that he once saw at work, you’re not hurt in the slightest.
“You’re finally here!” Ali exclaims, as if she’s overcompensating for something. Something you fail to pick up on.
“Yeah, there was a bit of traffic.” You tell her as you take a seat across from her and Satoru. Ali grins before she begins to introduce the two of you.
“Satoru, this my best friend.” She signals towards you, telling him your name. There’s a frown on his face, trying to recall where he’s seen you before. You almost feel embarrassed because you remember exactly who he is, but he can’t even remember if he’s seen you before.
Ali can’t wipe the smirk off her face as she introduces you to her boyfriend. She makes it clear that things are more than official now– She emphasizes the word as if she had forgotten to tell you, “And this is Satoru, my boyfriend.”
“Nice to meet you, Satoru.” You wave at him, forcing yourself to smile. You’re a bit unprepared for all of this, considering Ali didn’t give you a heads up about meeting her boyfriend. Alas, you can’t flee now.
“We’ve met before!” He exclaims, suddenly remembering you. So it’s you. You’re the friend that couldn’t join on the trip because Ali claimed you were too busy. “You don’t remember? I was in the IT department slacking off– Well, I wouldn’t say slacking off but–”
“Yeah, I remember you.” You cut him off, a low chuckle leaving your lips as he runs down the events. It’s not the only time you’ve bumped into each other. Not too long ago you saw him in a meeting, but he was too busy with work to notice you.
“I’m surprised you were too busy to join us on the trip, I didn’t think that your job was too demanding.” He brings up, and he feels Ali’s hand wrap around his wrist, squeezing. It seems like he’s overshared. You furrow your eyebrows, confused with what he says.
“Huh? What do you mean?” You question, and before Satoru can further explain that you were invited on Ali’s birthday trip but you turned down the offer, Ali butts in.
“The trip was just so last minute so I assumed that you couldn’t come.” She explains, and you feel another wave of disappointment washing over you. You try to understand though, you know Ali is awful at communicating certain things.
“Oh, I get it. Don’t worry about it.” You laugh it off. Awkwardness comes with the silence that ensues. Satoru looks around for the waiter, but he’s nowhere in sight.
“I love your glasses, by the way. Is that a new frame?” Satoru asks, not liking the awkward silence. You feel your face get warm at the compliment but before you can answer, Ali speaks in your behalf,
“Aren’t they cute? I picked them out for her!” She quickly takes credit. “She called me for help! Poor thing looked lost.”
“That’s why I have you around.” You respond, and she laughs. She pulls out her phone, and quickly begins to take pictures for her Instagram story.
“My followers will love this.” She comments as she gets you and Satoru in a shot. It’s truly not a meal with Ali until she pulls out her phone to post everything.
You’re back in Satoru’s workplace before you know it. You’re there to do a system check, something that doesn’t require you to deal with Satoru. You don’t want to say that you’re overjoyed that you’re not dealing with him, but you certainly aren’t upset about it.
Ali drags you along with her to almost everything that deals with him. Long story short, you third wheel a lot. You’re rightfully awkward around him, and you don’t want to deal with that feeling in a workplace setting. Perhaps things would be different if you got to know him in a different setting, but you’d prefer to keep things with him as minimal as possible.
Your prayers aren’t heard though. The moment that you step into the building, you make eye contact with him. You attempt to ignore him, acting as if you didn’t see him as you begin your job. He gives you that courtesy, and leaves you alone since you so clearly don’t want to be bothered.
Satoru leaves you alone until you bump into each other in the break room. When he sees you again, he wants to talk to you.
“How’s work today?” He asks, and you know that he’s directly talking to you since there’s no one else around.
“It’s fine.” You answer rather dryly, and he notices. It’s not intentional, you’re just focused on your job. “How about you? Are you down here slacking off?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He laughs as if he’s been caught doing something that he’s not supposed to be doing. You’re right, you’ve caught him slacking off.
“Mr. Gojo, your office is not on this floor.” You remind him, and he feels a bit embarrassed. Right, the giant detail that he’s overlooked. “Levi is a bit busy, you can come in a couple of hours though.”
“How about you? Are you busy?” He asks, and you are but you’re also looking to take a longer break; you’ve got the perfect excuse lining up, the COO needed you so you couldn’t refuse.
“Why do you ask?” You reply, and he puts his hands in his pockets as he looks around the room. Once he sees that he’s free to say whatever he wishes, he answers.
“How about I give you a tour of the building? I know that you’re not here often.” He offers, and you take a moment to think about it. You already know the building pretty well, the parts that you don’t know don’t concern you. You still think about it.
“Mr. Gojo–” You begin, only to be quickly interrupted by him.
“Please, we’ve spent enough time together. Call me Satoru.” He corrects you, and you hum in response.
“Alright, Satoru, show me the place.” You agree, only for him to grab your hand and drag you out of the break room without hesitation. He does not think about how things might be awkward afterward, Satoru simply lives in the moment.
“Alright you two, look at my phone.” Ali is practically shoving the camera right in your face to get the perfect shot. She needs to show off to everyone how great she is at managing her romantic and social life– She’s not the type of woman that puts a man over her friends.
“Alright, babe. Put the phone down.” Satoru tells her after what feels like the millionth picture. He planned this lovely picnic, only for Ali to only care about showing her followers. He likes Ali, but there’s just something about her that Satoru doesn’t like… Unfortunately, relationships can’t be perfect.
“Just one more!” She claims, making Satoru click his tongue. No matter what he says, Ali won’t put the phone down.
“Thank you for joining us. I would’ve sworn that at this point you’d be sick of us.” Satoru says as he passes you a sandwich. You laugh.
The only reason you joined was because you thought you’d be spending time alone with Ali. It’s rare to catch her alone nowadays since she’s usually with Satoru. It shouldn’t have surprised you to find out that the picnic was with Satoru; you weren’t even annoyed when you found it, as a matter of fact, you were happy to find out he was tagging along.
“Oh she’d never betray us, she’s like our loyal pet.” Ali comments, and you feel your face get warm of embarrassment. You can’t help but feel ashamed by her comment.
“Ali, apologize.” Satoru quickly tells her as a frown comes to her face. She crosses her arms, before asking,
“Why should I apologize?”
“It’s fin–” You begin but Satoru cuts you off. He’s not going to let her words slide.
“Because what you said was rude, she’s your best friend.” He’s getting upset about this, his tone of voice giving it away. Ali scoffs, not seeing anything wrong with her words. Why should she apologize when it isn’t a lie?
“You said it, she’s my best friend. I know her better than you do and I know that she’s fine with it.” She argues, and you’re almost praying for the ground to open and swallow you whole. Being here is already weird enough, but to watch them argue? You swear this is the last time you tag along without asking Ali about all the details.
“Do you not see how rude that is? You invited her, she didn’t beg to tag along.” He points out, which makes her roll her eyes. “You’re the one that usually invites her, you can’t say that about someone that never asks to join.”
“Fine!” She shouts, giving up. It usually means that she doesn’t have a counterargument. Additionally, if the argument escalates further then Satoru might just cancel the trip that they have for the weekend. She looks directly at you and forces herself to say, “I’m sorry for calling you our loyal pet.”
“It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean anything rude by it.” You reassure her, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by this whole situation. Ali gives Satoru a weird look before she grabs herself something to snack on.
Things begin to change between you and Ali, and it’s all your fault. You’re refusing to hang out with her because you know that Satoru is going to be there. It’s not that you dislike him, on the contrary, you think he’s the perfect man for your best friend. But you can’t help but feel like there’s a weird dynamic whenever you’re third-wheeling.
Luckily, Ali doesn’t seem to notice that you’re distant. She’s too preoccupied with Satoru. You’re more than fine with it, as long as you don’t have to explain yourself.
It does kind of suck that you’re barely seeing her since you can’t ask for a small favor. Taking the bus is not the end of the world, but waiting for it while it’s raining is an annoyance to say the least. It’ll take at least five more minutes for the bus to come by. Your car just had to break down during the rainiest time of the month.
You’re watching all the cars go by, eyes focusing on a sports car that is all too similar to Satoru’s. It’s not an usual car to find in the area, so you don’t assume it’s Satoru– Not until the car pulls up at the bus stop and the window rolls down.
“Do you need a ride home?” You hear his voice before your eyes land on him. You bite down your lip as you look around the place. You really want to turn Satoru’s offer down, but the bus is nowhere near and the rain is not stopping any time soon.
“Yeah.” You end up accepting, opening the car’s door. You do have an umbrella, but it can only do so much against the heavy rain. You apologize for getting his car all wet as you get in, and he assures you that it’s fine.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were taking the bus?” Satoru asks as he begins to drive. As you open your mouth to answer, he speaks again, “Granted, we haven’t been seeing each other much.”
You chuckle. He turns on the heating, noticing that you’re shivering the moment you get into the car. He picks up on the small details and you hate it. You’re truly happy for Ali, but you hate that Satoru makes you feel so wonderful.
Perhaps the reason why you’re distancing yourself doesn’t have to do much with them but rather yourself. You’re slowly seeing Satoru in a different light and you could never forgive yourself.
“I don’t want to be a burden. I can imagine you’re sick of me.” You comment, attempting to pass it off as a joke when a laugh escapes your lips. He doesn’t find the humor in it.
“I miss you! When you’re not around Ali’s phone is all over me.” He jokes, and while you’d usually laugh, you can’t. His words weigh heavy on your heart. Why the hell would he tell you that he misses you? Does he not know what that does to a woman? “There’s a new dessert shop opening up soon, we should go there soon.”
He’s gotten to know you too well, that’s why you’re avoiding them. He’s Ali’s boyfriend, you’re overstepping a boundary. As a matter of fact, you shouldn’t be in his car. You feel awkward next to him– As if your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your stomach churns every time that you look at him.
You frown as you look at him, suddenly feeling nauseous. You’ve come to a sudden realization. But no, it can’t be. No no no no no! You refuse to accept it.
“Hey, are you okay?” Satoru questions when he realizes the frown on your face as you stare at him. “Did I do something? Are you mad?”
“No, you’re fine! I just swore I saw something on your window.” You try to play it off, which he thankfully believes. You’re not in the mood to explain to him what you’re thinking of.
How awkward would it be to explain to him that you have a crush on him? Telling your best friend’s boyfriend about your weird feelings is the last thing you want to do.
You were planning on avoiding Satoru and Ali like the plague, but you started overthinking. Wouldn’t they notice something is up with you if you constantly ignore them? So you keep things to a minimum with the pretense that you don’t want to cut in. It’s nearly impossible to almost always avoid them, considering Satoru is almost always at your place.
You find yourself outside your apartment more often than usual. You’ve come to learn their schedule, and you’ve started to run errands whenever Satoru is around the apartment. It just never occurred to you that Satoru wasn’t abiding by a schedule, and that you’d bump into each other elsewhere.
You freeze in the middle of the grocery store when Satoru calls out your name. You curse yourself and pray that Ali is with him. You don’t want to find yourself alone with Satoru– You wouldn’t act out on your crush, but you still don’t feel comfortable at the thought of being alone with him.
“Hey, Satoru… What are you doing here?” The terrible question leaves your lips as you turn around to face him. Why else would he be here? He’s a human, he needs to get groceries to survive.
“Just getting some stuff for tonight. You’re coming to the dinner party, right?” Satoru questions, and you raise your eyebrow. You have no idea what he’s talking about. But instead of questioning him further, you simply shake your head. He sighs, “Ali insisted we host something for my birthday.”
“Oh, is it your birthday?” You ask.
“In the next couple of days.” He answers. “I thought Ali would invite you.”
“If I’m invited then her other influencer friends get jealous.” You remind him, and he clicks his tongue. They’re all so superficial, he’d much rather have you around over them.
“I already feel the headache coming on.” He jokes, making a low chuckle leave your lips. You begin to walk through the aisles, and the man walks by your side. He’s unknowingly complimenting you, which makes you want to drop to your knees.
“I really don’t know why she’d invite them and not you? I’d love to have you around, but them…” He says, and you laugh. You almost laugh at his every word, it’s a dead giveaway; but Satoru doesn’t notice. At least you think he doesn’t.
“Some of them are nice!” You tell him, but he’s not too sure that your words will uphold. Sure, they might be nice but they’ll all be too focused about themselves. They’re more than likely very similar to Ali– Which isn’t a bad thing, but sometimes Ali can only think about herself.
“Right.” He scoffs. You notice that he’s not picking up anything while he walks alongside you, making you wonder if he’s done with shopping. Or perhaps he’s simply forgotten that he’s here to shop.
“Are you done?” You ask him, and he looks back into his basket. He doesn’t even have half of the stuff he came here for.
“Shit…” He mutters, realizing he has to go through all of the aisles again. He pats your back before telling you, “Alright, I’ll leave you.”
“Bye, Satoru.” You wave at him as he begins to walk away. There’s a stupid smile on your face as you stare at him. A smile that quickly fades away when you remember that Satoru is Ali’s boyfriend.
“Alright, you have to be nice. We’re meeting his friends.” Ali tells you as she uses her phone camera to check her makeup. She wants to make the best impression on her boyfriend’s friends.
“I’m always nice.” You tell her, as the elevator takes you up to Satoru’s penthouse. It’s the first time you’re invited to his place, and you wonder how it looks. Is it cold and empty? Or is it welcoming? Considering he’s almost always at your place, you’ve already made your conclusions.
“These are like his very close friends so you know things are getting serious.” Ali comments, making sure that you remember how her and Satoru are an item. There’s not a second in the day where she’s not reminding everyone. It’s almost as if she doesn’t believe it herself that she’s with Satoru.
“Things are going to go great, Ali. Don’t worry about it.” You reassure her, and she takes a deep breath. The elevator doors open, and you grab her hand to comfort her, giving it a light squeeze. You step into the penthouse, looking around the place. It’s empty, just like you imagined it– Sure, it has furniture but it just feels empty.
“They’re in the kitchen.” Ali points to where she hears the laughter. You follow her to the kitchen, noticing that the laughter dies down the moment she enters the room.
Satoru walks to her side, taking her hand into his own as he faces his friends. He grins before he tells them, “Suguru, Shoko, this is my girlfriend, Ali.”
“Hi, Ali.” Suguru smiles, waving at the woman. Shoko doesn’t exactly greet her, but she does try to smile at her with a subtle wave.
“Hi, guys! It’s so lovely to meet you!” She acts as if she’s known them all of her life, going over to them and hugging them. Her hug isn’t rejected, but it isn’t necessarily well received.
You awkwardly stand by the door, feeling completely out of place. Ali came to you with the pretense that she needed you for moral support, and you couldn’t just reject her; right now you’re mad at your decision though. Your weekend plans are ruined.
“And this is,” Satoru introduces you to his friends as well, when Ali is done giving out her awkward hug. You wave at his friends, not as confident as Ali to go to them and hug them.
“So nice to meet you.” Shoko finally speaks, earning you a side-eye from Ali. You don’t notice it, instead you focus on Satoru’s best friends.
“I love your shirt, Shoko.” You comment, and she thanks you as she looks down.
“Do you listen to them?” She asks you, and you nod in response. It leads to a conversation about your favorite songs, a conversation that Suguru chimes into. Ali can’t join in since she doesn’t know the band, therefore she can’t add anything useful.
Ali feels left out, and she hates that feeling. Therefore, she’ll force herself into the mix
“You know who I love!” She begins, only for Shoko to coldly look back at her. Shoko raises her eyebrow, and Ali begins to speak. An artist that’s completely unrelated to the initial genre; frankly, someone that isn’t well liked around the room.
An awkward silence ensues when Ali stops talking, which makes Satoru intervene. The man clears his throat before speaking, “How about we go to the living room?”
To which you all agree to.
Conversation flows smoothly when you’re speaking to Suguru and Shoko. You expected to feel left out for the entire night, but surprisingly you get along fine with the duo. You can’t help but notice that Ali’s being left out, so every now and then you ask her a question that fits into the conversation. However, she doesn’t have much to offer.
“So what do you do?” Shoko asks you as she cuddles up to Suguru on the couch. You’re sitting on the floor, watching as the couples begin to snuggle up. It’s getting colder in the penthouse, so rightfully they’re seeking warmth.
“I’m a tech analyst. I occasionally work with Satoru’s company!” You share. “I’ve been to it maybe a handful of times.”
“Is it fun?” She questions and you laugh, which answers her question. “At least it’s a real job.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, and Shoko chuckles, shaking her head. She refuses to answer, though it should be clear she’s talking about Ali.
You look around the living room, watching as Shoko and Suguru snuggle up, as well as Ali and Satoru. You don’t feel as awkward as you should be since you’re used to this sort of thing. It isn’t the first and it won’t be the last time that Ali invites you to something for couples only.
“Awh, look at you. You look so lonely.” Ali takes a pitiful tone as she speaks to you, and suddenly a weird shame consumes you.
“What are you even saying? She’s with us.” Shoko immediately defends you, taking a harsh tone as she looks at Ali. “She doesn’t need a significant other.”
“Right, all a partner does is–” Suguru begins, which earns him a quick glare from Shoko. He bites down his tongue, deciding to not get himself in trouble. Suguru ends up clearing his throat before saying, “At least she’s making interesting conversation.”
“It’s getting late!” Satoru chimes in, not wanting to escalate things further. He quickly picks up on the fact that Shoko doesn’t like Ali, and he feels like Ali reciprocates that feeling. “I’m sleepy.”
“He’s kicking us out, Shoko.” Suguru says, sticking his tongue out at Satoru. The couple stands up, and you awkwardly remain on the floor. You regret accepting Ali’s proposal of staying the night.
“Aren’t you busy tomorrow? I don’t want you to be too tired for your plans.” Satoru tries to make it seem as if he isn’t kicking them out, when in reality he is. He doesn’t want things to escalate, and Suguru can tell which is why he doesn’t say anything else.
“Right, busy. Sunday morning. We’re going to church or whatever you do.” Suguru says as he’s led to the elevator by Satoru.
You take a quick look at Ali, seeing the upset look in her face. You’d usually comfort her, but you know that she isn’t in the mood for comfort. She needs a moment alone, which is why you stand up.
“I’m going to sleep.” You tell her, trying to smile at her. She simply hums, not even looking in your direction.
You wake up earlier than usual, unable to sleep for longer since the room you’re sleeping in isn’t your own. It’s odd, considering that the bed you lay on is the most comfortable bed you’ve ever touched. Last night’s events weigh heavy on your mind, contributing to the lack of sleep. You wonder if Ali is still upset with you, or if the sleep has cooled her off.
You get up from bed, and get out as quietly as possible. You don’t want to make a loud noise and wake up the happy couple– Although you doubt that any noise will reach them from how big the penthouse is.
A big yawn escapes your lips as you walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You freeze when you enter the kitchen and bump into Satoru. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s shirtless.
“Oh!” You can’t help but exclaim, as your eyes look him up and down. He’s only wearing gray sweatpants. Your face is turning hot, feeling almost like a complete virgin. You make eye contact with him, and the man looks at you utterly surprised.
“I’m sorry.” He quickly apologizes, and you dramatically turn around. He’s just shirtless, it’s not the end of the world. But you swear you took a peek at his underwear.
“No, it’s your home. You’re okay.” You trip over your words as your hands cover your face. He notices that your reaction is a tad bit dramatic. He won’t judge you for it, you have your reasons to react the way you do.
Before Satoru can utter another word, you’re out of the kitchen. Satoru furrows his eyebrows, as his eyes land on the box of macaroons that you got him for his birthday. Ali simply a watch, one that he already had in his collection. You took note of what he liked and went out of your way to get it for him.
It dawns on him. The reason why you reacted the way you did is because you like him. Luckily, Ali is asleep so she won’t notice a thing.
“Satoru, what are you doing?” You ask before he cups your face and kisses your lips. He’s kissing you so hungrily. He’s full of passion, as if he’s been waiting for this moment for a long time.
When did he get into your room?
“I need you.” He tells you between kisses, his hands going under your nightgown. He’s getting risky. Where did all of this come from? One moment he was cuddling up with Ali and then the next he’s kissing you as if you were his. You should fight back since you know it’s wrong, but your body melts.
You can’t do anything as Satoru kisses you, except give in. His lips move lower, going to your neck as his hands go higher. Before you know it, he’s playing with your panties. He teases your pussy, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest as he gets more risky.
“We shouldn’t, Satoru.” Your voice is barely audible, easy to slip past his ears. You won’t repeat yourself because you don’t want him to stop.
He pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds. His fingers press against your clit, nearly making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s sucking on your neck, on that sweet spot that makes you weak. He already knows his body as if it were his own.
“Oh–” You gasp as he pushes a finger inside of you. You can’t believe this is happening– Oh how wrong is it? Poor Ali. But guilt isn’t the most prominent feeling in your mind, which means it’s ignored. A second finger quickly follows, and you swear you’re in heaven.
“I need you so badly.” He sounds breathless, utterly desperate. He curves his fingers, hitting just the right spot. You moan his name, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth. You don’t remember if Ali is nearby or not, but you don’t want to risk it.
His thumb is playing with your clit, feeling your whole body turn to putty. You can’t stop now. You need to feel him in every possible sense.
“Please…” You mutter, your body craving more. You can’t use your words, it simply makes things wrong. He reads your mind, pulling away and taking his shirt off. You can’t help but run your hands down his well toned torso. This is so wrong but you can’t bring yourself to stop.
Your hand reaches the waistband of his sweatpants, biting down your lip before you pull down. That’s where you lose control again, Satoru taking charge.
“Just relax, okay? I’ll take good care of you.” Satoru tells you as he puts you on your stomach, facing away from him. He fully lifts up your nightgown to get a good look at your ass. He slaps your ass before running the tip of his cock through your folds.
He slowly pushes himself in, and you bury your head into your pillow. You can’t make a noise as his thick cock fills you up. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as he bottoms out.
“Can you handle it, pretty girl?” He asks, giving you a moment to adjust to him. Your answer comes out muffled by the pillow, but luckily he can understand the yes that leaves your lips. He begins to move slowly.
Why is this happening? Not that you’re complaining. Guilt will eat you alive later, but you’re living in the moment. How could you not live in the moment when Satoru is fucking you?
“You feel so good.” Satoru moans, and you can’t hold yourself back on being as enthusiastic as he is. He’s hitting all the right spots, making your body feel euphoric.
You’re too in your head that you almost miss that the door opens– The door opens?! You immediately know it’s her, and you can’t stop. How will you explain it to her? No, no no no no! You seriously can’t be doing this to your best friend.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” You hear, and suddenly she’s shaking your body. Your mind is snapped out of your subconscious when she yells, “Ew! You’re drooling!”
Your eyes slowly open, and you feel the guilt pit in your stomach when you realize you were having a dream about your best friend’s boyfriend. A very explicit dream to say the least.
“Ali, what do you need?” You question with a raspy voice, clearly just woken up from a very fantastic dream. No, not fantastic. A bad dream.
“You went to sleep really early last night. Don’t you think it’s time to wake up?” She reminds you. You remember getting home from Satoru’s place, and heading straight to your room. You spent all day in bed yesterday, almost as if you had a cold. “Plus, you told me you’d cook for me for my diet!”
“Oh, right… I forgot.” You respond, your hand wiping the sweat on your forehead. You look her up and down and ask, “Why are you going on a diet again!”
“It’s essential that I maintain my figure! I make a living out of this, you know?” She answers, and you give her a subtle nod. She ends up leaving your room to wait for her breakfast patiently.
A sigh leaves your lips, the tough reminder that you’re not only in charge of dinner anymore but breakfast and lunch as well. You’ll do it for her though, she’s your best friend.
You bounce your leg as you sit near Satoru and Ali. The couple snuggles up as they watch a movie. They forced you out of your room and made you join them, but you can’t even focus on the screen.
Satoru is the first to notice, considering you’re acting weird around him. He keeps looking back at you, wondering when you’ll calm down. You’ve never acted like this around him before… Was the shirtless incident that bad?
He gets that you like him, but you don’t have to be so tense and nervous all the time. He won’t try a thing, he’s not that kind of guy.
“Do you want some popcorn?” Satoru extends the bowl towards you, and Ali immediately shushes him. She acts as if she can’t rewind ten seconds to hear what she missed.
“I’m okay, thank you.” You awkwardly smile at him before quickly looking away. You won’t even dare to look him in the eye. You end up standing up from your seat, telling the couple, “I’m not feeling too well–”
“Just go.” Ali interrupts you, not caring too much that you want to go back to your room. It was Satoru’s bright idea to invite you along. She won’t mention it to him, but it’s annoying that he wants you to include you in almost everything.
Ali pauses the movie when your door closes, looking at it and then back at Satoru, “She’s acting weird.”
“What do you mean? She just looks tired to me.” Satoru acts confused. He knows Ali enough to know that the woman has a tad bit of a jealousy issue. If he were to tell Ali about his finding, she wouldn’t react in a rational manner.
They both know that you wouldn’t even dare to make a move on Satoru, but that won’t change a thing. Which is why Satoru chooses to bite his tongue.
“I don’t know. I don’t care too much anyway.” She ends up shrugging, resuming the movie.
“Happy birthday!” Satoru cheerfully congratulates you the moment he sees you. It took a while considering that you’ve been in your room all day.
“Thank you, Satoru.” You’re a little surprised that the man knows, let alone, went out of his way to congratulate you. You smile at him, as he holds his index finger up.
“I got you something, hold on. It’s in my car.” He practically runs out of the apartment, leaving you to look around the place. Ali is in her room, so you can’t ask her what Satoru got you.
You feel weird as you wait for him. All you can think about is the dream that you had not too long ago, and guilt fills you up. Ali’s your best friend, you shouldn’t like her boyfriend. You take a deep breath to calm down the mix of emotions that suddenly consume you.
“Here it is.” Satoru comes back, not even a minute later. He holds the pink gift bag, and extends it so you can take it. You thank him, too shy to open the gift in front of him. “I hope things can go back to how they were.”
“Huh?” You question, even though you know exactly what he talks about.
“Things have been weird between us… I don’t know what happened.” He responds, and you’re left speechless. You aren’t sure how to answer. Before you can answer, he signals toward the gift, “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
“Yeah.” You put the gift bag on the counter and take the tissue paper out before your eyes fall on the gift. You smile, pulling out the wireless headphones. “Thank you, Satoru. These will come in handy.”
“I hope so! I got them when I remembered your job.” He explains, and you can’t help but smile. He finally sees a sincere smile on your face, something that he hadn’t seen in a while. “There’s something else in the bag.”
“Oh?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you look inside. There’s a small blue box inside, and you feel your heart skip a beat as you look at it. You feel too self conscious to open it in front of him. “You didn’t have to, Satoru.”
“You’re my friend! Of course I had to.” He claims, signaling you to open the box. You bite down your lip before doing what he wants you to do. Your eyes glimmer at the sight of a beautiful charm bracelet.
“It’s so beautiful!” You exclaim, right when Ali exits the bedroom. She looks at what you hold in your hand, and then at Satoru. “Thank you, Satoru. I love it.”
“It’s no problem. Happy birthday.” Satoru responds, just as Ali’s arms wrap around him. He hugs her back, but his gaze remains on you. “What are you doing tonight? Are you going out?”
“Tomorrow night. I’m not doing anything tonight.” You answer.
“How about we take you to dinner!” He offers, and Ali gives him a cold stare. A stare that goes ignored by him.
“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve done too much.” You awkwardly respond, getting reminded that he’s Ali’s boyfriend as she hugs him. If you didn’t know any better, by the way she acts, you’d say she’s jealous.
“We insist. It’s your birthday.” He replies. “Go get ready, we’ll wait for you here.”
You argue a bit more with him before you finally accept. You go to your room with gifts in hand. When you’re out of sight, Ali can’t help but comment, “Didn’t you do a little much?”
“What do you mean? That’s your friend.” Satoru responds, and she sighs. He ends up letting go of her and asking, “What’s wrong?”
“It feels like you’re putting more thought into her birthday than mine.” She crosses her arms, getting pouty about it. Satoru should’ve known, Ali gets upset when the attention isn’t all on her. He doesn’t like to admit it, but she’s a bit selfish. “You’re doing more for her than what you did for me.”
“I took you overseas and gave you many gifts.” He reminds her, but that’s not enough for her. “Can’t you just be happy for your best friend?”
“Fine.” She clicks her tongue, and she ends up stomping away. She has to get ready.
Your birthday dinner starts off awkward, but it slowly gets better. Overall, you enjoy it. The food is delicious and the company is great. You still can’t help but feel like Ali is upset with you. You’re not sure what you did wrong, but she acts weird.
She ignores you the next day, or gives you the most basic answers to any question. You wonder if she’s upset with you because Satoru gave you a birthday gift but… How are you at fault for that? It can’t be that. You try to talk to Ali at night, but she’s with Satoru and you don’t want to interrupt anything.
You end up going to bed without speaking to each other. Maybe you’ll patch things up tomorrow before Shoko and Suguru come over.
You’re woken up by strange sounds in the middle of the night– The sounds seem distant until you listen closely. You furrow your brow, trying to make out the strange noises until you figure out what it is, then you just want to bury your face into your hands out of pure embarrassment.
“Oh, it’s so good, Satoru!” Quickly followed by “Like that! Just like that!”
And as you keep listening to it, you feel tears well up in your eyes. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s guilt because you like the man Ali is in bed with right now; or perhaps it’s because you know that you’ll never be with him.
You sniffle, reaching over for the headphones that Satoru got you and putting them on, deciding to listen to some soothing music to fall back asleep. You’ll listen to just about anything to block out that sound.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo jjk#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satoru angst#gojo angst
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SLOW BURN
okay wow my first public fic — i’m terrified so pls be kind but feedback is OF COURSE welcome!!
type: female reader x nicholas chaves x cooper koch
(^this is the greed they talked about in the bible 🤭)
tags/warnings: 18+; nsfw; smut lite; kissing; fingering; groping (i think that’s it!!)
word count: 7317 (i was gonna post it in parts but i changed my mind)
*used AI to help organize structure
pt.2 out now!!!!
pt.3 out now!!!!
⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️
You and your friend Vanessa laughed as you walked into the cafeteria of Camp White Water from a joke that had you both laughing since you both got ready and started heading toward the first day of camp counselor training.
This was your second summer of being a camp counselor at this month-and-a-half long sleep away camp. And you always looked forward to it, the leadership staff was always kind, the campers were actually not too bad and the other counselors were your favorite. All of the returners had become super close and it was super exciting to be reconnected with them when summer rolled around.
This year there were a few new counselors because of the amount of campers that were coming in this summer, particularly in your group. That being said, you were given two new co-counselors.
You and Vanessa were still in stitches about whatever joke had been continuing when you got closer to your assigned table, you noticed your name card with your name between two other name cards, one read “Nicholas Chaves” and the other “Cooper Koch”.
“Whoa..two news guys?” You were surprised, you expected to at least have another returner on your side, “Do they think I’m responsible enough to train two newbies?” you chuckled as you sat on the cafeteria bench.
“Well if they’re dumb and hot, send them over to the young eagles team, I’d love to have fresh meat”, Vanessa gestured to her table with Gene who was the oldest camp counselor and a bit of a gangly man who meant well but wasn’t exactly summer camp eye candy.
You both looked in his direction and giggled, “Hey Gene! You look ripped this summer. I’ll send her over to you in a second” you called out, causing Vanessa to laugh even harder.
As you both continued cackling in a room full of lively conversation, the group of new counselors walked in, it was tradition that the current counselors applaud them as a bit of a harmless hazing ritual.
You clapped and laughed with your friend as the newbies looked around excited but nervously for their name tags. In the middle of your giggling, you noticed two men stopped at your table and started settling in, “this must be them” you thought.
Copper was tall and broad. He had hazel brown eyes and deep brown curly hair. He was wearing a gray zip-up hoodie and tennis shorts and you could tell from his leg muscles that he was in good shape. He had soft features that made you feel immediately calm and at ease - safe almost.
Nicholas was the opposite, he had straight hair and darker eyes. His face was very chiseled, his jawline was impeccable. He had a defined and muscular physique, which stood out even when he’s dressed casually in his shorts and long sleeve college shirt.
He was also tall with broad shoulders but his muscles were more pronounced - a strong chest, and visible arm muscles that give him a commanding presence.
“Hey guys, I’m Y/N”! Cooper went for a handshake, which was too formal for you, without thinking you went in for a hug. You figured you’d get close through the summer like the rest of the counselors.
Cooper was caught off guard but quickly adjusted to the hug, Nicholas was a little reserved but even with just a side hug you felt his biceps take you in completely. They sat on either side of you and you started talking about your experience at the camp the group you’ll have this year.
The camp director gave some opening remarks and then the assistant director had you all start with those cringey ice breakers. He went around and gave out a stack of cards to each group that had random questions on it.
When he got your table, he said “Ah Y/N, happy to see you back again! Boys you’re in good hands, she’s a pro.” You playfully shooed him away to be humble. “I mean it, but you also have some star athletes next to you. Cooper and Nicholas were both finalists in the west end tennis conference and since you’re working on rec fit this year, it should be perfect!”
“Tennis boys huh?” you gestured to your co- counselors, “I knew those builds weren't for nothing” you jokingly nudged both of them in the side. Cooper giggled and you finally got Nick to crack a smile and loosen up.
The ice breakers were stupid but kind of fun and they opened up more conversation; “if you were a fruit, what fruit would you be?” turned into you three talking about your families, “what three things would you need on a deserted island” turned into talking about your favorite vacation spot and “what;s your morning routine” let the guys start to talk about their training which you found…hot. The way they describe conditioning and training completely hypnotized you, like you could understand it but just barely. And watching them interact was a real treat, Cooper was very funny and lighthearted but still very direct and expressive in his words. Nicholas was very sincere in everything and said it with such conviction, even if he was joking it came out so earnestly you thought he was being serious.
Later, for training you all got to wander the camp site as groups. The three of you found yourselves sitting on one of the picnic benches along the trail route, the ice was finally broken so the conversation flowed very casually.
It started to get a little warmer out, too warm for a hoodie so both you and Cooper took yours off. Cooper was wearing a tank top that revealed even more of his physique and you were wearing a stretchy tank top body suit. Realizing this was the first time they've seen your arms, they noticed you had a few tattoos and were both instantly intrigued. "You have tattoos?" Cooper asked, his voice more excited than you expected.
"Yeah, just a few!” You started pointing them out to Cooper while he walked around your body to get a closer look at each one. “I got this one with one of my friends, they are not quite matching but they’re similar” you went on.
Nicholas was also listening to you talk about your tattoos but he wasn’t as outwardly interested as Cooper was. He mostly just nodded in approval after you explained each tattoo. It wasn’t until you bent a certain way to show Cooper a different tattoo that your tennis skirt raised a little, revealing the very bottom of a tattoo on your thigh. "Is that… another one?" Nicholas asked, gesturing to your thigh, catching you off guard.
You blinked. "Oh, yeah," you replied, laughing lightly. "Good eye." You hadn’t expected him to notice that one—it was usually pretty hidden. But it wasn’t awkward and you were happy he actually spoke. “Yeah it’s just my zodiac constellation, I just thought it was cute, maybe a little stupid to get that tatted but I like it”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Nicholas replied, more confidently this time. Cooper nodded in agreement.
“In fact,” Nicholas stood up and took off his bookbag “As long as we’re showing off our sick ink…”. You and Cooper’s eyes widened, you had no idea what this man, who had been fairly silent this whole time, was about to show. He took off his shirt and revealed his perfect abs. They looked like they were chiseled from marble but also soft like flesh. You cleared your throat and gathered yourself. You glanced over at Cooper who was equally entranced by Nicholas’ body.
“What do you think?” Nicholas posed in front of you two and you both looked confused, “I thought we were just showing off tattoos, not seeing who’s built like an adonis” Cooper joked.
You laughed, “yeah, this is a summer camp so the chance to take off your shirt was coming soon enough” you added.
Nicholas laughed back, “no get closer, it’s there!” You and Cooper looked at each other and then got closer to his man’s perfect body and there it was, two small tattoos under both pecs, a smiley face and a frowny face.
‘Totally sick ink right?” Nicholas joked in a surfer voice, you and Cooper threw your heads back in laughter as you jokingly agreed. “It certainly is … ink on your skin,” Cooper added.
“They were stick-and-pokes I did in college just for fun, you can even feel the weird texture of them,” Nicholas said. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Cooper's hand and placed it on the small tattoo. You had to find a way to act normal about this but this was incredibly hot. Two gorgeous men essentially groping each other in the woods felt like something out of a fan fic.
Nicholas looked at you and said, “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite”, in a quiet gravely voice. You felt your shoulders drop and your eyes widened, internally you thought “what is happening right now??”
You used your finger tips to feel the tattoo but followed Cooper’s lead and also felt his chest too. Nicholas would glance down at you two feeling him with his breath hitching just a little. Cooper was into the moment, you were still taken aback. Before this moment could progress, the camp alarm blared calling us all back in for dinner.
For dinner, groups got to mix and mingle so you and Vanessa decided your groups should eat together. Dinner was fine, you were fine. It seemed odd that these two boys who were basically mute at the beginning of the day had this moment earlier with you and were now just so chill about it. But you were going to match their vibe and keep it lowkey.
After dinner, you were all texting and realized you wanted a sweet treat so you went off-site and ended up at this diner a few miles from the camp. You three sat in this round corner booth and just talked about each other.
It was getting progressively later and later in the night and you felt yourself getting tired. Cooper went to the bathroom before you all headed out and you instinctively rested your head on Nicholas’s shoulder. Completely forgetting what happened earlier and just needing a place to rest for a minute.
It took him no time to accommodate your needs and lift his arm up so you could properly get close. He pulled you close to his chest and rubbed your arm as you slightly drifted in his arms.
You all drove in your car there but Nicholas saw how tired you both were so he offered to drive. “Give daddy the keys” he gestured to you to throw them in his direction, “I’ll get us back safe”. You mentally noted that he called himself daddy and tossed him your keys. “You both should ride in the back seat because if you're up here yawning by me that could be dangerous”.
You and Cooper hopped in the back seat and again, you just wanted to lay down, so Cooper sat upright and you laid down with your head in his lap. He also wanted to make you feel comfortable so he started stroking your cheek and did that for the entire ride back to camp.
---
The next morning was Special Classes day, all the counselors would be in various groups to get trained on the specialized activities for the camp this summer. Swimming, archery, arts and crafts, home ec, etc., you were partnered with Nicholas in the swim group while Cooper took the archery class.
The sun beat down on the lake, making the water glisten. You all had been in and out of the water several times for various tests. Every time you glanced at Nick and noticed the way the water drops would sit in between the ridges of his abs you felt something electric in you.
“You all have done a fantastic job today,” the instructor addressed the group, “and we wrapped up earlier than I thought so that’s good. Feel free to go for a free swim or head out until your next activity.”
You and Nicholas non-verbally agreed to head out but not before the instructor asked you both to take some supplies to the first aid shed before you left out. You wrapped a towel around your body and Nicholas wheeled the cart of medical supplies.
When you got the shed, which was more of a small cottage, you held open the door while Nicholas wheeled the items in. He started putting them away while you just stood and watched. Watching the way his back muscles moved with every action, the way he towered next to the shelves and how broad he looked from the back.
He turned to see you checking him out and chuckled to himself, “do you mind helping me out a little?” a smirk brandishing on his face.
You didn’t hear what he asked you when you were in your trance so he chuckled again, a little louder this time, “they’re getting lower in the wagon, could you hand them to me?” he asked again.
“Oh my bad – yeah of course! Sorry, I was just thinking about dinner or something” you tried to cover your tracks in the worst way possible, “or ‘something’ is right” he retorted back, you felt your face get hot.
When you were finished putting the boxes away, you wheeled the cart to where the other storage containers were and joined him back in the main room. The shed was so warm so neither one of you wanted to leave. Nick went to sit down in a chair by the desk in the room. There were papers on top of the chair he went to move but when he picked them up he got a paper cut.
“Shit,” he hissed “oh my god” your eyes widened. It wasn’t a lot of blood but you could yell it hurt because he kept hissing in pain. At one point he even hissed your name asking you to grab him a paper towel and you felt your heart skip a little.
He sat on the chair while you cleaned him up and gave him a bandaid. Once you got him squared away and you put the kit back on the shelf, you just kind of stood in front of him. There was nowhere else to go and not much to say.
He grabbed your hand, closing the distance between you two, pulling you toward him “the old ‘nurse me back to health’ trope huh? What a classic” he joked in a low gravely voice
“You’re so annoying”, you whined jokingly pushing away, as his one hand placed your arm on his shoulder and the other wrapped around your waist.
You caressed the side of his face with one hand, contemplating if this was really about to happen. You just met this guy yesterday - but you have already felt his pecs, cuddled with him in public and let him call himself daddy.
You leaned down and hovered in front of his mouth, “don’t make me beg” he whispered as he moved closer to plant his lips on yours. It started slow but very deliberate, he was soft but sturdy, your knees felt weak and you could feel him holding you up with the strength of his arm alone.
He took more initiative in the kiss and started taking control, his tongue now fighting for dominance in your mouth and he pulled you down into a straddling position on to his lap, never breaking apart. The more intense he got the more inhaled and exhaled sharply, the breathing made it all so much hotter. He started kissing down your neck, using his hands to guide which way you leaned your head to receive him.
He got to your ear and whispered , “I wanted you the second I saw you”, and started kissing and licking your collarbone, “you’re so perfect” he said into your neck before biting and sucking at various spots. While he worked on a particular part of your neck – biting and sucking, making you moan his name. He started to lower your bathing suit strap to reveal your soft wet breasts.
He looked at you as he kissed down your chest and gently placed it in his mouth, sucking and licking at the nipple making you thrash in excitement. You moaned his name out loud again, he switched to the other breast with the same licking and sucking motion while using his hand to play with the nipple of the other. You felt a rush when he moaned, it sent a vibration through your body that you felt it below.
He was so attuned with your body, he knew you could feel the excitement pooling down there and went to feel you over the bathing suit down there. Your back arched the second he touched you, your breath shaky. You locked lips again as he continued to graze it.
Just as you went to reach down to feel him hard through his trunks, the camp alarm sounded, calling everyone back to the main area. The rudeness of the alarm made you two separate and understand what you were really doing.
When you both come down from the euphoric feeling of being wrapped up in another stranger, you pulled your straps back up to cover yourself and he helped you off him. He pushed the chair back, you grabbed the towels both of you came in with and left, not saying a word.
When you joined the group again, you had to sit with your team. You and Nicholas found Cooper and sat on either side of him, typically you had been in the middle of them two but you needed a little distance from Nicholas at the moment.
“You guys are still in your swim stuff? I saw you guys wrapped up earlier than us” Cooper genuinely asked
There was a pause that needed to be filled, you went to speak but Nicholas also started, you both stopped and almost started again and then stopped fully and there was another long pause
“Oh no that's fine, that’s totally how normal people answer a question” Cooper said sarcastically.
---
The next day of training, returners and new counselors had separate schedules. This was perfect because after yesterday, it’s not that you were avoiding Nicholas but you certainly needed a break and time to process how this all progressed so quickly.
That night, in the cafeteria certain counselors signed up for different kitchen shifts, you and Cooper got put on clean up duty. When dinner was wrapping up Nicholas hung around for as long as possible. It wasn’t weird, there was an energy between you two but mostly he just hung around to talk to Cooper. You kept a distance and participated in the conversation from afar.
Cooper went to the back to handle the trashtrash and you were clearing off tables. Nicholas stood up to leave and called you over. You didn't know what he was going to say, was he going to ask you why haven't we talked? Does he want to have sex? Does he have a girlfriend? Every thought ran through your mind as you walked over to him from a few tables over.
You got to him and asked “what’s up?” he paused, stood up and looked down at you. He used his fingers to lift your face in his direction and planted another kiss on you right then and there, without a care in the world. His lips were soft and plush, you felt yourself melt into him from how smooth it was.
“Let me know if we’re doing another sweet treat run tonight” he said just a few inches from your mouth and walked out.
You were floored, who is this man? That kiss was so comfortable, as if you were his and he was yours. It felt natural and right to him.
You wiped down the counters while Cooper stocked and organized supplies for the next day’s meals, the silence between them was oddly comfortable. From the second you met them both Nicholas was a little harder to read and you felt like you had to do a little more to get his attention. Not that you necessarily wanted his attention but with Cooper, he immediately opened up. He was warm, comforting and quiet. He just felt safe.
When everything was done, you and Cooper sat on top of a table while the floors dried and ate ice cream. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sat across from you criss-cross apple sauce style, him being easily over 6 ft and sitting to make himself look small was so endearing.
The more you talked the smaller the distance grew between you two. Your knees were touching and he was stroking your leg as you both continued talking, doting into each other’s eyes.
He glanced at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “You know, you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve met.”
You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Where’s this coming from?”
He finished his cone just in time to place both hands on your legs while he answered. His hands were large and strong, with veins subtly tracing the surface, hinting at a quiet power beneath his skin. The rough texture of his palms contrasted with the smoothness of his long fingers, which moved with a practiced, almost careful grace. There was something magnetic about the way they flexed, confident and capable, as if they knew exactly how to hold the world—firm, yet gentle.
“Just being honest. You’ve been, like… really good to me since day one. Everyone here is nice but you and Nick have made me feel comfortable here”, he said through a smile.
His words made your heart skip, but you tried to play it cool. “I mean, I hope you gave Nicholas thanks like this too, don’t want him feeling left out.” you let out a laugh and so did he.
“No, but it’s different with you,” he said, and this time, he didn’t look away. “I was nervous as hell coming here, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to make it easier, but you did. I didn’t feel out of place with you around. You’re, like, ridiculously sweet and also…” He trailed off, eyes scanning your face like he was debating how much to say. “You’re also, like, the most attractive person here.”
Suddenly you were in the same position you were in with Nicohlas in the shed, a moment of silence where nothing needed to be said, only action needed to be taken.
Copper leaned forward and quietly said, “I’m gonna kiss you now”
He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your lips as he hesitated for a moment, savoring the closeness. His kiss started soft, tentative, like he was afraid to rush it, each movement deliberate and tender. His lips were gentle against yours, almost shy, and you could feel the slightest tremble in his touch. But as you pressed closer, he exhaled, letting go of his nerves, and the kiss deepened naturally. He found his rhythm, and what began as slow and cautious soon turned into something warmer, more fluid, their lips moving together with a sweet, unhurried certainty.
You felt his one hand on your thigh and the other slipped under your shirt, warm and steady against your skin. His fingers curled against your side, massaging gently as he explored the curve of your waist. Slowly, he moved his hand upward, caressing your breasts with a careful touch, his thumb tracing soft, deliberate circles until your body relaxed into his hands.
'Is this okay?' Cooper pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he searched your eyes, his voice soft and filled with concern. The tenderness in his question only made you want him more."
You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips found yours again, this time with more confidence. His hand slipped back under your shirt, his movements unhurried but more intentional now, as though he wanted to savor every second of the moment. His thumb brushed across your skin, sending little sparks through your body, and you leaned into his touch, your hands finding their way to his hair. You tugged gently, and he let out a low, quiet groan that only made you pull him closer.
Cooper’s kisses grew deeper, more fluid as he relaxed into it, his earlier nervousness melting away. His hand continued to explore, fingertips dancing across your body as if he was learning every inch of you. There was something almost reverent in the way he touched you—gentle but filled with intent, as though he couldn’t believe this moment was real. He pulled you closer, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he took his time, each kiss slower than the last.
'You’re incredible,' he whispered against your neck, his voice rough with affection. The way he said it, so soft and unassuming, made your heart swell, and in that moment, you knew that every touch, every kiss, was laced with more than just desire.
You felt wrap his hands around you and he shifted his position to lay you down gently on the table. He continued kissing you on your neck, whispering praises softly in your ear while his hands smoothly roamed your body, “you’re so perfect”, “I need you”, “you’re a goddess”.
You felt his hand go lower and lower on your body until he got to your waistband. He pulled from the passionate kiss to look at you, he thought you were so beautiful in this moment. Frazzled from his passion, your eyes begging him to keep going. His fingers slipped into your shorts, but stopped, “are you sure?” Cooper asked you again, wanting to make sure you felt safe.
You pulled him down on top of you to kiss again and pushed his hand down so his fingers just grazed over the clit. His fingers continued to massage your area, with each pass you moaned into his mouth. Your kisses became deeper and frantic as you struggled to keep from completely unraveling from him.
“Let go for me baby”, he said with his forehead resting on yours. Before you could catch your breath his hand went lower and he angled his fingers at your entrance, your back arched in anticipation.
He pulled back completely so he could see your reaction to his fingers slipping inside if you. He traced around your entrance a little before slipping in his middle finger. You gasped and shuttered as his finger moved in and out, your moans turned to whimpers as he slipped in another finger.
You moaned out his name as his fingers curled inside of you hitting your spot. You had no control of your body, your body spasming from his touch which was getting deeper and faster by the minute, you were moaning so loud you didn’t care who heard you and your hands searched for some part of him to touch to return the favor. You reached out for his waistband, his hard member was pressed against his pants. You wanted to make him feel as good as he made you.
Just as you were about to return the favor, the camp alarm went off for a final roll call for bed. You and Cooper froze, reality settling back in as you both quickly gathered yourselves, adjusting clothes and catching your breath.
Cooper sat back with a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair. 'I guess I got a little carried away,' he admitted, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he glanced at you, clearly still processing everything.
You smiled back, your heart still racing but now more from the situation than the moment before. 'It’s fine,' you said with a light shrug, your voice playful. 'It was fun... and now I think the favor's officially been returned for being so sweet.'
He let out a low chuckle, his eyes soft and warm as he looked at you.
---
A few days had passed, and while you hadn't been actively avoiding Cooper or Nicholas, you also hadn’t been seeking them out either. You needed a moment to clear your head after everything, to let the tension simmer down before the campers arrived. Still, you didn’t want things to feel awkward, so you invited them over to your cabin to help put together goodie bags for the kids. Your cabin mate was out for the night, so you even suggested they sleep over since their cabins were farther away. It was a subtle effort to show them you were cool, if they were cool. Even though every time one of them shifted closer, the heat between your legs was impossible to ignore.
You all worked in a comfortable rhythm, talking and laughing as you assembled the bags, until a song came on that sent Nicholas into nostalgic mode. His eyes lit up, and with a grin, he said, "This song always reminds me of my first kiss." You laughed.
Nicholas leaned back, his eyes dreamy with the memory. "Middle school. At a dance. I was so nervous I almost missed her lips entirely."
The three of you burst into laughter, and soon the conversation flowed into everyone sharing their stories, one kiss memory after another. Cooper shared about his first kiss behind the bleachers at a football game, and you talked about a spontaneous kiss under the basement steps of your friends’ house with her hot older brother. The mood was light and fun, each of you enjoying the trip down memory lane.
But then Cooper, ever the curious one, leaned forward, his tone more playful than usual. "So... has anyone here fooled around at camp before?" The question hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension shift. You knew exactly why you were feeling awkward, but you noticed Nicholas’s smirk almost instantly. His eyes flicked between you and Cooper, as though daring one of you to speak first.
You opened your mouth, not entirely sure what you were going to say, when Nicholas took the chance. "Actually," he began, leaning forward with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I’ve done it twice already. And both of them are in this room."
Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest as you whipped your gaze to Nicholas. Cooper let out a surprised laugh, and for a moment, you were too stunned to speak. Wait—Cooper already knew? Your mind raced to piece it all together, the realization dawning on you like a light bulb flicking on. You’d hooked up with Nicholas. Cooper knew. And they had hooked up too?
"Hold up," you finally managed to say, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. "You two—?"
Nicholas nodded, leaning back with an easy confidence, clearly enjoying your reaction. "After arts and crafts clean-up a few days ago," he said, glancing at Cooper with a smirk. "We were the only ones left in the room, and we ended up in that tiny back closet putting away supplies…”
Cooper chimed in, chuckling. "It was kind of inevitable. I mean, we were basically on top of each other. And then... one thing led to another. I pulled his shirt off and started kissing chest. He kissed down my neck. Mouths went places, hands went places and rest is a fogged up window.”
Your mind spun, trying to wrap around the image of Nicholas and Cooper together. You could practically picture it—the tension, the closeness, the heat of the moment in the small, confined space.
You swallowed, feeling the heat rise between the three of you again, but this time it was different. This wasn’t about embarrassment anymore—it was curiosity, excitement, a shared secret now out in the open.
Cooper and Nicholas exchanged a glance before bursting out into laughter. Cooper was the first to speak. "Oh, it was obvious," he said, still chuckling. "When you came to the camp meeting that day after special classes, the hickies already started forming on your neck. You weren’t exactly subtle."
Nicholas leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "And I tried to come back to the dining hall after I left that night you two had clean up duty and I heard you two making out in the distance, so I turned right back around."
The three of you erupted into laughter, the kind that shakes your whole body and makes your cheeks hurt. It was funny now, how you’d all tiptoed around it, trying to keep it secret when in reality, none of you had been fooling anyone.
When the laughter finally died down, Nicholas’s curiosity took over. "Okay, so... real talk. Who do you prefer more?" His eyes sparkled with playful competitiveness, and he leaned back with a smirk, clearly ready for whatever answer you had.
Cooper grinned, nudging your shoulder. "Yeah, no pressure, but... we’re all dying to know."
You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it was—being asked to choose between them like it was some kind of game. You paused for a moment, then gave a mock-serious look as you made a reference only you could deliver. "You know, it feels like Tyra Banks standing here with two contestants in front of her, and only one can stay."
Cooper burst out laughing, recognizing the reference immediately. "No way, you’re not about to do an America’s Next Top Model elimination on us right now!"
You grinned, savoring the dramatic moment. "But if I had to choose..." you began, your eyes darting between them, building suspense. Finally, you pointed to Cooper. "It’s you."
Cooper jumped up from the floor, arms raised in victory. "Yes! I knew it!" he shouted, dancing around the room like he’d just won a championship. Nicholas, meanwhile, was in mock shock, his mouth hanging open as he smiled at the absurdity of it all.
"You’ve got to be kidding me!" Nicholas exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin. "I thought I had this in the bag!"
You laughed, trying to calm the chaos around you. "Hooking up with you, Nick, was fun and spontaneous. But Cooper..." you turned to Cooper, who was still grinning like an idiot, "...was gentle, tender, and made me feel really special."
Cooper shrugged nonchalantly, though the satisfaction was clear on his face. "What can I say? I just know how to make a woman feel special."
Nicholas rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning closer to you. "Okay, fine. But..." he gave you that familiar smirk, "...if you let me have another shot, I can be gentle too."
You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, yeah? You think so?"
He nodded, the playful tone in his voice now edged with something more serious. "Absolutely. If you’ll let me."
You smiled and nodded, your body buzzing with excitement. "Okay, I’m down."
With that, Nicholas took your hand and guided you to the bed. He sat down next to you and this time, there was no rush, no quick or hurried movements. He was slow, deliberate, his hands softer as they found your waist and pulled you gently toward him. He kissed you with a tenderness you hadn’t felt from him before, each movement careful, as though he was savoring the moment.
The heat between you built gradually, the tension thick in the air but controlled. Nicholas was taking his time, just like he promised. His lips moved against yours with a softness that surprised you, his hand sliding up your side in a slow caress that made your breath hitch. Compared to your first time hooking up, this was different—more intentional, more intimate.
You felt Cooper watching from the other side of the room, clearly entertained but also intrigued. Nicholas’s kiss deepened, but the pace stayed slow, methodical, as he explored every part of you with a newfound gentleness.
"Not bad," Cooper teased from the sidelines, his voice light but clearly enjoying the view. Nicholas smirked against your lips, but didn’t break the kiss, his focus entirely on you. He put his hand on his thigh and started messaging, working his way further and further up.
Nicholas parted from your lips to make his way down your neck. When you first hooked up, he would’ve started biting and sucking but this time he placed soft kisses on your neck, while lightly squeezing your thighs. He whispered in your ear “see, I can be anything you want me to be baby” he nearly whimpered in your ear.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body quivered in response. You were melting into the moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling, when suddenly, Nicholas pulled away. Your eyes shot open in confusion, the warmth of his body leaving yours too soon.
“Why’d you stop?” you asked, breathless, your lips tingling from his touch.
Nicholas smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Just wanted to show you I could be gentle,” he said with a wink, clearly enjoying how worked up he’d gotten you.
You let out a soft laugh, though you couldn’t help but still want more. “Well, you’ve definitely proven that,” you teased back, a smile tugging at your lips.
Cooper stepped in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, if we’re all trying new things, maybe it’s time I take a shot at being more... aggressive."
You smiled wide as you agreed, Cooper crossed the room in a few long strides and came to sit next to you on the bed. He gently but firmly grabbed your face, pulling you to his direction. His lips met yours with a fiery intensity, pulling you on top of him and kissing you harder, deeper than before. His hands gripped your hips with a sense of urgency, and he moved faster, more aggressively, his kisses more forceful as he claimed your mouth. The energy was completely different from the gentle, careful approach Nicholas had just taken, but it was equally intoxicating.
You gasped against Cooper’s mouth as he pressed into you, his lips trailing down your neck with no hesitation this time. He kissed you with raw hunger, teeth grazing your skin, his hands roaming your body with confident, demanding touches that sent heat pooling low in your belly. Every move he made was firm, and you could feel the shift in energy—this was Cooper letting go, leaning into the moment with full force.
But out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Nicholas watching from where he stood, his eyes dark with anticipation. His gaze was hungry, eager, as if he didn’t care who he joined in on, just that he wanted to be wrapped between you and Cooper.
Cooper noticed it too, pausing briefly to glance over at Nicholas. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes flashed with a knowing look, as if he was silently inviting Nicholas to join. Then, in one smooth motion, Cooper gently but firmly placed you back on the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the blankets beneath you.
Nicholas didn’t need any further invitation.
He crossed the room and joined you both, sliding onto the bed with that same eager smirk he always wore. Without missing a beat, he moved in close, taking his place on one side of you while Cooper positioned himself on the other. You could feel Nicholas’s breath warm against your skin before his lips pressed to the side of your neck, the same spot Cooper had just claimed moments ago.
The sensation of both of them on either side of you was overwhelming, in the best way possible. Nicholas’s kisses were slow but deliberate, each one more lingering than the last, while Cooper’s lips moved more urgently, as though he couldn’t get enough. You were surrounded by them, their hands tracing up and down your body as their mouths explored your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive spots just below your ear.
Nicholas’s fingers skimmed across your waist, his touch light but teasing, while Cooper’s hand slid down your thigh, squeezing gently. The contrast between the two of them made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, involuntary moan as you sank deeper into the sensation.
“This is what you wanted, right?” Nicholas murmured against your neck, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “Both of us... all over you?”
Before you could answer, Cooper’s lips moved to your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “Tell us what you like.”
You felt completely overwhelmed, your senses flooded by the way both Cooper and Nicholas were hitting every spot that made your body hum with pleasure. Nicholas's lips left soft, teasing kisses along your collarbone while Cooper’s hands roamed your body, his grip firm and sure. The contrast between their touches, one gentle, one rough, had your heart racing, and you were utterly lost in the sensation.
Needing more, you reached up, grabbing Cooper’s face and pulling him into a heated kiss. You matched his intensity, your lips moving hungrily against his, both of you completely giving in to the moment. His hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to devour you whole.
Meanwhile, Nicholas’s kisses continued to trail down your shoulder, slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers down your spine. His hands were patient, exploring every inch of your body with a calm but insistent touch, as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt beneath his fingers.
Cooper pulled away just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, and before you could even process it, Nicholas unhooked your bra with expert precision, leaving you bare in front of them. For a second, the weight of their gaze made you feel vulnerable—but the way they looked at you, eyes full of hunger and admiration, made the tension crackle in the air.
Without missing a beat, Nicholas’s lips found their way to your breast, his tongue tracing soft circles before he took your nipple into his mouth. The sensation sent a wave of heat through your body, and you gasped, arching into his touch. His mouth was gentle, but the pressure was enough to make your body ache for more.
At the same time, Cooper’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just enough to leave a lingering sting that made you squirm in his grasp. His hands explored your back, pulling you flush against him, and every bite, every nip, felt like it was setting your skin on fire.
The combination of Nicholas’s slow, teasing kisses and Cooper’s rough, hungry bites made your mind spin. You could barely keep up with the sensations washing over you, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss, every movement. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t get enough.
“You’re perfect,” Nicholas whispered against your skin, his lips still trailing over your chest. “I could keep doing this all night.”
Cooper smirked against your neck, his hand sliding down your waist. “We might just have to.”.
#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#cooper koch#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x y/n#cooper koch x reader#cooper koch fanfic#nicholas chavez fanfiction#nicholas chavez smut#cooper koch smut#lavender baby#nasty remix#mother’s first fic 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧
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Mistakes have been made this afternoon. I have had sake and no food, so fuck it, I'm going to be brave. Agatha/reader, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, praise, and breeding kink if you are still taking requests.
Of course! And to everyone else who requested a fic, they should hopefully be up soon!
A gala to remember
You're feeling a little neglected by your girlfriend so you take advantage of her unfounded jealousy while at a work event for her
Word count: 2400
Warnings: literally pure filth, semi-public sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, blowjob, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, breeding kink, I think that's it
There’s not enough appetizers at the fancy annual gala for the company your girlfriend works at to make you stop being mad at said girlfriend.
That doesn’t mean you’re not going to try though.
You’re on your second shrimp cocktail when Agatha comes over to where you’re standing and tightly grabs your arm.
“Come over here. And put that down,” she hisses in your ear and drags you across the room. You yank your elbow out of her grasp and deliberately pretend that you don’t see her scowl at you.
It has been a week since the two of you have had sex. You can’t blame Agatha, work for her is really busy this time of the year, but she has come home late every single night since Monday and you’ve barely seen her.
She had been promising all week that on Friday night – tonight – she would be home early and the two of you would make up for lost time. You had even gone out and bought some new lingerie. You missed the feeling of Agatha’s cock inside you and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week.
Until Thursday morning, before she had rushed out of the house, she had told you that she was expected at the company’s gala the next night and she wanted you to come with her.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind attending a work event with your girlfriend, but a lot of feelings had become pent up over the week and there was also the fact that she had given you a day’s notice on cancelling the plans she had made.
So yeah, you were being a bit of a brat.
And Agatha was fully aware of that, and wasn’t having any of it.
“You need to behave,” she whispers before the two of you approach a group of co-workers.
“Or what?” You scoff sardonically. “Not going to fuck me for another week?”
“Watch me,” she shoots back. And then she plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” She introduces you to everyone, three men and two women. You politely shake their hands, barely even looking at them, until you get to the last woman, Rio.
She’s a little younger than Agatha, her pale skin contrasts beautifully with her golden-brown eyes. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, like Agatha, and there’s something about her intense energy that seems to draw you in.
Speaking of Agatha, she must notice how you’re staring at Rio because she clears her throat and wraps an arm around your waist.
“Oh, that reminds us, Agatha,” one of the men booms. They’ve been talking about something for the past few minutes but you’ve been zoning out, bored almost to tears. “We need to borrow you for a few seconds upstairs. There’s a contract we need you to look over.”
Agatha squeezes your waist and you shoot her a pleading look but she’s already leaving with two of the guys. The group disbands and you awkwardly go find an empty table to stand at and eat more shrimp.
Great. Now you’re mad, miserable, and alone.
Except, maybe not all alone.
Rio saunters up to the table, holding two glasses of champagne. She hands one to you and silently toasts. You take a sip.
“Big fan of these parties?” You ask, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has settled over your table. She shrugs noncommittally.
“They’re good for the company,” she says. “I don’t particularly enjoy parties.”
You raise your glass to that. “Join the club. I’m only here because Agatha made me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking ill of your girlfriend to her co-worker but you kind of want to vent to someone.
Rio rests her head on her elbows and her eyes widen. “Agatha Harkness’s girlfriend. What is that like? Is she as much of a boss in the bedroom as she is in the office? Or is she one of those powerful people who submits completely?”
Images and memories of Agatha in the bedroom flit through your mind (she is definitely not the latter) and you choke on your drink, sending you into a coughing fit. Rio chuckles knowingly.
“That’s an interesting question to ask someone you just meant,” you say once you’re finally able to breathe again, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, well, I’m an interesting person,” she retorts with a smirk. You nod in agreement and laugh.
And that’s when you feel a hand on your lower back and a presence right behind you. You whirl around, afraid it’s some old man, but it’s your girlfriend.
“Agatha!” Rio exclaims with delight. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”
“Excuse us,” Agatha says rudely and grabs your hand to drag you up the stairs of the event center.
You roll your eyes exasperatedly. “What, Agatha?”
She doesn’t say anything until you’re past the top of the stairs and she spins you around and shoves you against one of the pillars. You wince at the cold marble on your cheek but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Agatha’s body against your back.
Particularly, her semi-hardened cock.
“Were you seriously flirting with Rio Vidal?” She taunts right into your ear. “Was that some pathetic play to get me to notice you?”
You want to tell her that no, of course not, you weren’t even flirting and the only reason Rio had come over was because Agatha had left you all alone, but you don’t do any of that. Instead you wiggle your ass against her, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, and ask, “Did it work?”
She growls and flips you around, forearm coming up to your throat. “Listen to me, little girl,” she says threateningly. “You are mine.”
“Oh, am I?” You simper innocently. “I must’ve forgotten in the past week while you’ve been too tired to show me.”
Her eyes flash with something dangerous. “Get on your knees.”
It makes you falter. “What?” You look around the two of you. There’s no one up on the second floor right now, but Agatha and her co-workers had just been up here a second ago so who’s to say that won’t happen again? You aren’t exactly hidden from view from the people on the ground floor either.
“Did I stutter?”
Despite your reservations, you can feel how wet you’re getting and how much you’ve missed having Agatha like this. So you hike up your floor-length gown and slowly drop down to the floor. The tile hurts but you don’t care.
You reach up to unzip Agatha’s pants and pull her cock out. The tip is already red and leaking with precum and you gasp at the sight, feeling an ache start to grow inside you.
“Better go fast before someone catches you,” she says, weaving her hand through your hair. You’d like to remind her that if you get caught, she’ll be the one who gets in the most trouble, but she’s right. There isn’t time for that.
You drag your tongue up the bottom of her cock and swirl it around the tip, getting immense pleasure when she lets out a small groan. You’ve almost forgotten how good she tastes.
“God, you’re such a good slut for me,” she says. She collects your hair in a pony-tail as you start to bob your head up and down her dick. You can feel it twitch in your mouth and you tease the vein along the side which makes her hips jump.
You swallow around her and try to push yourself further down. When you get close to gagging, you come back to lick at her tip while your hand strokes your saliva up and down the rest of her cock.
“You look so fucking pretty with your mouth stretched around me,” Agatha groans. “Fuck, baby, can I use your mouth?”
You nod eagerly, peering up at her through your eyelids. Something about her using you like a toy really gets to you.
And then you open your mouth wide and let her fuck her cock into you. You really hope the wet sounds you’re hearing are not as loud for everyone else.
The need to breathe is burning in your lungs and your eyes are tearing up, but you can tell Agatha is close to cumming based on the tightening grip in your hair, the blissed expression on her face, and the way her cock is stuttering on your tongue. You want her to cum all over your face when she suddenly stops and pulls out of you. Air rushes into you and you cough weakly.
“What?” You ask, a little disappointed. Without answering, she pulls you off your knees and pushes you back against another wall. She parts your dress at the slit and slides a hand through it to cup you over your underwear, smirking triumphantly when she finds you soaked.
“God, sucking me off where anyone could see like a whore really does it for you, doesn’t it?” She taunts. “So pathetic, baby. So needy. You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a brat this whole night, right? You want my attention, my cock in you so bad that this is how you’re acting?”
Embarrassment colors your cheeks but you hold your head high. Nothing she said was false. “What are you going to do about it?”
She scoffs and smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remind you who you belong to, because apparently a little slut like you needs a constant reminder.” She directs you to hike your dress up and she slides your underwear to the side. She positions one of your legs over her hip and without preamble, she thrusts her cock all the way into you. Your head falls back against the wall with a loud moan.
Agatha clamps her hand over your mouth and stays still. She is filling you up so perfectly, even if it’s been a week since you’ve taken her. The delicious stretch is exactly what you’ve been missing.
“Please, Aggie,” you whimper and she starts to move, hitting your special spot every time. “Feels so good.”
“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” she grunts, picking up her pace. Your mouth falls open but no noise comes out. “It’s like you were made for me. So perfect, angel. Such a good girl.” You nod your head and roll your hips with every one of her thrusts.
“Agatha, oh my god,” you moan, feeling her nails dig into your hips through her dress. You know that she’s close, can feel her throbbing inside you, and you’re not too far behind.
“Such a desperate slut,” she croons. If there’s one thing about Agatha you love, it’s how quickly and effortlessly she can go from praise to degradation and back. “Needing me so bad, making me fuck you at my work event because a whore like you wants to be filled. Where anyone could walk up here and see how desperate you are for me. I want them to see what a whore I make you into. Especially Rio. Want her to know who you belong to. Fuck, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up, baby?”
The thought of her spilling her cum inside you makes you clench even more around her cock. You absolutely love the feeling: the warmth, the way it feels leaking out of you, the times Agatha would eat you out after and taste the mix of your wetness with her cum and then kiss you so you could taste it too.
“Yes, please, Aggie, fill me up, breed me,” you whine, whispering the two words that the both of you only use on special occasions.
It has the intended effect because a feral look settles in Agatha’s eyes and she fucks into you with renewed vigor, hands gripping you so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow.
Or at least you hope.
“Gonna breed you, baby, gonna fill you up with my cum,” she pants, the effort getting to her a little. “Cum all over my cock like the perfect slut that you are.”
You take a hand off her shoulder to reach down and rub your clit and that little extra spark of pleasure sends you orgasming all over Agatha’s cock. Her hips splutter and she lets out a long sigh before you feel her twitch inside you and then a spurt of warmth fills you. You moan at the feeling, almost cumming again.
She stays in you until she softens and the second she pulls out, she wipes her cock all over your pussy to clean herself off, smearing the mess all over you, and tugs your lacy underwear back into place. You bite your lip at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and when you take a shaky step towards her, you can feel how drenched your panties are, coated with a mixture of the two of you.
And now you have to spend the rest of the night like that.
“I promise I’ll clean you off when we get home,” Agatha says, teasing smirk telling you that her tongue will definitely be involved. You clench around nothing at her words and the images they bring, and you can feel more of her cum ooze out. You’re able to tell that some of it is on your inner thighs and you really hope it’s not visible through the dress. Or on the dress.
But you don’t have time to worry about that. Agatha kisses you softly and pulls you in for a hug.
“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you this week,” she murmurs. “I’m all yours this weekend, I swear on my life. I told the guys earlier that if they had a problem, they’d have to figure it out themselves or wait until Monday.”
You tighten your arms around her, feeling suddenly giddy. “Thank you, baby.”
Agatha reluctantly steps away after a few more moments of holding you close and you miss her body against yours. “Shall we rejoin society?”
You pretend to think about it for a second until she smiles and then you take her hand. She leads you back down the stairs, her cum still seeping out of you.
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#agatha all along
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