#THIS TOOK ONE MILLION YEAR. GOD HELP ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokissweater · 5 months ago

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i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

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“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

5K notes · View notes

bokunoheros · 3 months ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: gn reader but afab with descriptions of feminine clothing (also katsuki calls you princess like once or twice idk), alcohol consumption, everyone is 24+, shouto is bisexual asf, katsuki and reader are married, reader did not go pro, some mlm action (todobaku content scattered throughout bc i am a god and can make them do whatever i want!!), shouto cucks a little bit, also shouto is a nasty closet perv lol, overstimulation, inappropriate quirk usage, oral (reader receiving), spit roasting, backshots, idk what else i could possibly mention other than this is nothing but filth GENRE: SMUTTTT MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ ONLY SUMMARY: after a party celebrating their top spot as heroes, shoto gets a little too drunk and has to stay the night with you and your husband, dynamight. shenanigans ensue. a new boyfriend is acquired? WORD COUNT: one million billion (jk it’s 10.4K) 🦊’s A/N: god help me. shoutout XENOVA for the celebration party idea. uhm pt2 maybe if this blows up idk. also this was not proofread bc i’m running out of time and it’s too long. and uhm its not exactly manga-canon bc i think deku deserves to be the no.1 hero idgaf. horikoshi when i catch you. // anyway enjoy lol

it was mina’s idea to hold the party originally, and you who offered to host, since you were the one dating the number two pro hero, dynamight, and had enough space to accompany the old class 1-A. it took a little persuasion from your end to get katsuki on board, but he eventually agreed, despite his bitching about how you two needed to whip this place into shape before anyone dared to set foot into your shared home.

this, of course, meant more work for you in the end since your husband was so terribly busy with work. ….that’s not to say he wasn’t helpful, though; of course not! whenever he wasn’t bone tired from whatever villain attack or whatever there was that day, he was more than happy to help you pick up (well…… that’s how the phrase goes, at least; bakugou himself didn’t mind cleaning with you and helping out around the house, per se, it’s just that he always came off as aggressive in the everything that he did) and really start getting the house ready for the upcoming party this weekend.

when it was all said and done, everything had been dusted and all the floors swept and vacuumed; the pillows on the living room couch had been fluffed and the kitchen counters were wiped down and had been bleached in preparation for the day you were about to spend in the kitchen cooking for this party. at least katsuki was there to help you with this the most out of all the other chores — and it was really the most time consuming one, too, so his help here was greater than he realized. him being an actually good cook just so happened to be an extra, heaven-sent bonus.

despite this, you had actually gone out of your way to prepare three main courses: (cold) soba, katsudon, and then something on the spicier side for your husband for the top three heroes you were celebrating tonight, along with some appetizers and snacks, of course.

finally, the day of the party was upon you, and you finished running your last couple of errands (namely stocking up on alcohol) right as ashido and the rest of the girls arrived in a limo. …..guess yaomomo went all out, huh? well, it's not like you could exactly blame her—it had been years since you had All been together due to everyone being busy with their own work, even now there were a few who couldn't make it, like satou and koji, or mezou and fumikage, due to circumstances out of their control. it was a shame really, you would have loved to have some of rikido’s sweets since he was such a good baker. ah, must not have been meant to be then. no use in dwelling on it. especially when everyone was beginning to pull up!

“eeee, my pookie! how have you been!? how’s life with baku—no, dynamight?!” mina eagerly squeals as she runs towards you, arms extended and ready to grip you in a crushing hug.

“ackgh–! too tight, too tight–!” you choke out as she squeezes you half to death.

“oh, sorry!” she apologizes, letting go and backing up slightly as the rest of the old 1-A girls come up behind her and the limo driver drives back to yaoyorozu’s manor until it was time to come pick the ladies back up. “now. spill all the tea,” she says, giving you a serious look all of a sudden, and you feel a smile stretch across your face. it’s nice to know she’s just the same as she was in high school.

“well—why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” you gesture to your shared home, to which the girls gawked at in awe. it wasn’t an estate or anything like yaomomo’s place of residence, but it was certainly large enough to accompany everyone attending and then some.

leading them inside, you open the already unlocked door (katsuki was busy in the kitchen aggressively finishing up the fruit platters and charcuterie boards, making sure they were up to his standards before serving them) and led them all in.

“kats, ‘m home! n’ all the girls are here!” you shout loud enough from him to hear you from the foyer.

your husband swears and grumbles under his breath, eyes darting to look at the clock just as it struck 17:00 (that’s 5pm for those of you who don’t use the 24hr format). goddammit, they were perfectly on time. whatever, he was done arranging the meats and cheeses of the charcuteries anyway.

moving to set the trays on the coffee table in the living room for everyone to enjoy, he greets you at the door with the softest little smile ever, one mina just barely catches sight off, which she immediately teases him for and his usual scowl makes a re-appearance in record time as he becomes prickly and sharp again, huffing out a gruff make yourselves at home or whatever.

after that, it was another twenty-ish minutes before nearly everyone else arrived.

shouto, however, was the last to get there due to him getting into an argument with his father prior to leaving. it was a surprise to even himself that he decided to come anyway, but he had grown to be more sociable than he was back in high school, and also he was one of the three people the party was actually being thrown for, so…. it would just be incomplete without him there, and he recognized that.

soon, the party kicked into full swing and the alcohol was excitedly opened and everyone could feel themselves relaxing as it grew closer to dinnertime—which you happily (and tipsily) served to everyone around half past seven.

once everyone had eaten and had time to let their food settle, people began saying their goodbyes as the night grew later and later. all except shouto, that was, who was actively still drinking, sitting on your couch with a bottle of sake in his left hand as he watches everyone else clears out.

“fuck’s he doin’? just sittin’ there,” bakugou grumbles, coming up to stand next to you after seeing eijirou and denki to the door (uptight as he could be, even your husband was capable of relaxing after a drink or two…. or several). he wasn’t… erm, upset with shouto’s prolonged visit, per se, but he was definitely tired and wanted some alone time with his spouse for fuck’s sake.

“be nice, ‘tsuki,” you scold him lightly, moving to walk towards shouto, who had a sleepy look in his eyes, to stand in front of him. “hey, todo, y’okay?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his tired face.

“mmh? ‘m fine.” his words slur together slightly as he refocuses his blurry gaze on you, and for a moment, the number 3 pro hero thinks you look like an angel sent from heaven to take care of him—until katsuki ruins the moment by walking over and saying;

“great, then you can obviously get yourself home!”

“katsuki!” you hiss, looking over to where he stood next to you. “you can stay the night if you need to, shouto,” you tell him softly, squatting down in front of him and placing a hand on each knee to look up at him from almost between his legs — something your husband absolutely did not appreciate.

“hey—” he tries to interject, but the young todoroki had already accepted your kind offer, knowing better than to walk or drive home in his current state.

“relax, kats, he can sleep on the couch if you don’t want him in a guest bedroom—even though that’s what they’re for,” you suggest/remind him.

“i guess,” he huffs, crossing his arms as you finally stand back up.

shouto, meanwhile, moves to stand up from where he sat, swaying a bit before you put both hands on his broad shoulders and force him to sit back down.

“nuh-uh, you sit right there, sir,” you say playfully. “is there something you need?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as katsuki grits his teeth while you tend to that drunk icyhot cunt. (as if he himself wasn’t also wasted).

shouto pauses to think for a moment, thinking about his words carefully before opening his mouth.

“do you have any—” he lags and forgets the word he’s looking for mid-sentence. “uhm. ….unfrozen ice?” he asks, tilting his head partially to the side like a confused creature might.

“oh my god,” bakugou groans at his request as you break out into a fit of giggles. “you fucking mean water?” he asks his fellow pro-hero. god. what a sorry fuckin’ sight he was — can’t-stand-up-drunk on katsuki’s couch, while he forgot a word as basic as water. jesus christ, he cannot believe you offered to let this fool stay here without even asking him if it was okay first. whatever. he’d just have to fuck you so good that that walking peppermint couldn’t sleep at all. yeah, he could totally do that.

“water, yes,” shouto follows up as you have to wipe the tears from your eyes at his drunken words. standing up straight, having doubled over from laughter, you nod and tell him yeah, we have unfrozen ice, and that you’ll get him some.

after you had left the room, though, katsuki huffs loudly and stares down at shouto, who was still seated on the plush sofa.

“listen, todoroki,” he spits out, one hand splaying out in an aggressive manner as his quirk popped off quietly. despite the alcohol in his system, katsuki was still just as…. well, just as aggressive and competitive as always despite the way he had grown more outwardly affectionate (towards you specifically) over the course of the evening.

“i dunno, or care, what you’re trying but just know—” an embarrassing hic cuts him off and his face flushes from more than just the alcohol. suddenly, his big tough guy act drops as his blush reaches the tips of his ears and you come back into the room with two cups of water, handing one off to shouto and the other to your husband.

both men silently and gratefully take the glasses from you, gulping it down before they even realized just how thirsty they were until the cups were empty and they were looking at you, causing you to suddenly feel small under their intense gazes.

“‘ll go—get s’more,” you slur, taking the now empty glasses back from the two men, and also this moment alone to calm your racing heart, and maybe pour yourself another shot. or two. or three. calm down, you’re only alone with the two finest men in the world — one of which you’re married to!! you think to yourself as you begin pouring them another glass from the nice water pitcher you had specifically set out for tonight.

taking the bottle of vodka from its spot on the counter, you look at how much is left and simply decide on drinking straight from the bottle and polishing it off. little did you know, you’d need that liquid courage for later on tonight. before bringing the two well-built men their water, you dispose of the vodka bottle, putting it in the recycling and heading back into the living room.

after a comment from katsuki about how it was getting late, you escort shouto upstairs to a guest bedroom and show him where the bathroom is before excusing yourself to your shared bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind you, just for katsuki to barge in seconds later as you move to the master bathroom to start brushing your teeth.

he joins you shortly after, having discarded his nicer dress shirt and pants in the bedroom’s laundry basket, leaving him far more comfortable in his unfairly flattering black boxer briefs.

“jesus—kats, how are you so fuckin’ fine?” you ask after spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, and he only chuckles and lets a small smile stretch across his lips.

“dunno—could ask you the same thing, though,” he quips back, grabbing his own toothbrush from the little cup it sat in, running it under the water before putting the toothpaste on it and bringing it up to his already white teeth and scrubbing the night’s grime away.

you giggle at his words, running your toothbrush under the water and giving your teeth a final once over with the brush and scrape your tongue, rinsing it one final time, and then tapping it against the sink’s edge to get some of the excess water out.

finally, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as you watch your husband finish up in the bathroom before he stalks over to you, an almost predatory look in his eye as he comes to tower over you and you can feel a chill run down your spine as he sizes you up from your spot on the king sized bed.

“katsuki..? what’re you—”

your question is almost immediately cut off as his slightly chapped lips come crashing down against yours as he knocks you back onto the bed and stands between your now spread legs—which quickly wrap around his narrow waist as his large and calloused hands find purchase on your hips.

“mmmfgh,” your hum turns into a moan as you focus on the feeling of your husband’s lips against yours, melting into him as he leans over you, teeth clacking slightly as he tilts his head for a better angle to kiss you at.

“was getting tired of that icyhot bastard,” he grumbles, eyebrows furrowing together as the grip on your hips tighten possessively at the mention of shouto, as if your husband wasn’t the one to bring him up?

his words make you chuckle nonetheless as a smile spreads over your pretty, soon to be kiss-swollen, lips as you lean back on your palms, the bed sinking beneath your weight.

“‘m sorry, tsuki,” you mumble softly before you feel his tongue run over your lower lip, silently begging for entrance to your hot mouth — to which you eagerly granted access to, moaning quietly when he licks into your mouth. he tastes like tequila and spicy udon, and it’s utterly intoxicating (or maybe that was the last of the vodka you’d downed earlier taking effect). “didn’ mean t’invite him withou’ askin’ you,” you slur out, rolling your hips up against his growing erection.

“‘s okay, i guess,” he pants, pulling away only slightly in order to look you in the eyes, letting you know that he really didn’t mind. sure, shouto was quiet and didn’t actually interfere with what he had planned tonight (or so he thought), so he was only mildly annoyed instead of genuinely bothered. besides….. he had left the door partially open after barging into the bedroom on purpose… just in case that walking candy cane happened to overhear and wanted a peak at the show he wouldn’t be allowed to join.

and just like that, your husband’s lips come crashing down against yours yet again, tongue easily seeking out your own and swirling around yours before sucking it into his mouth, humming pleasantly around the wet muscle (he was in a shockingly good mood, actually…. guess he enjoyed the party more than he let on—that and the alcohol was a large factor, too) before pulling off of it with a nasty, wet pop! noise.

“mmh, glad you’re not mad,” you mutter, eyes fluttering open to take a peek at him. and what you saw was downright angelic — a harsh contrast from his usual demeanor and appearance.

“why would i be?” he asks, and you straight up laugh, ruining the moment entirely. “hey–!”

“sorry, ‘m sorry—it’s just—” you wipe a tear from your eye. “you’re usually not so— what’s the word? calm? something like that,” you try explaining to him, a smile gracing your features.

“i’m calm! i’m always calm!” he spits out, raising his voice, sending you into another round of laughter.

“god—i love ya s’much, kats,” you tell him after composing yourself, shifting on the bed so you were leaning against the plush pillows lining the headboard and bakugou eagerly follows after you, moving between your legs, which easily wrapped back around his hips, pulling him closer against you, and he shifted so that he was propping himself up on a forearm, his other hand coming to press against the small of your back, arching it for you as his lips found their way to your neck, where he began to nip at the sensitive skin there.

“you’re pretty great too, i s'pose,” he grins against your flesh before beginning to suck at the junction of your neck and shoulder, determined to leave a mark dark enough to last a week, at least.

“yeah? ‘s good t’hear,” you giggle breathily as he assaults your neck, and one hand comes to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his mysteriously spiky hair (you’ve never once seen him use hair gel—hell, you’ve even searched his entire side of the bathroom because you didn’t believe him when he told you it’s just like that).

it doesn’t take long for bakugou to get fed up with the clothes separating your bare skin from his, desperate to physically feel you against him, and in record time, he has the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips, you’re sitting up slightly, and he’s tugging the fabric the rest of the way off, carelessly throwing it onto the floor.

shouto, meanwhile, lay awake staring at the ceiling in your comfortable guest’s bed, drunkenly reminiscing back to high school, and the crush he didn’t know was a crush he had on you. had he known, he probably would have asked you out sometime in your senior year—instead, he misinterpreted his affections as an intimate friendship with admiration for you and your quirk. what always baffled him, though, is why you would pick katsuki bakugou to love out of all people (not like you really had a choice in the matter…… one day you woke up and realized your supposed hatred for him was, in fact, a bone-deep love that consumed you whole).

with an achy sigh, todoroki sits up and gets up to use the bathroom. after washing his hands and splashing his face with some cool water to sober up at least a little, his ears perk up on the way back to his temporary room. on his way back, however, he happened to catch the faintest echo of a feminine moan, and before he can stop himself, he’s silently stalking down the hall to the master bedroom, where he found the door to be cracked open wide enough for him to get a surprising view of dynamight with his head between your legs and your underwear and dress strewn across the otherwise neat floor.

immediately, his dick twitches to life in his nice dress pants and he nearly groans at the way you moan katsuki’s name so sweetly. god…. that should be me, he thinks to himself enviously as your husband focuses solely on eating you out.

“aa-ahh! mmm, katsuki!” you cry out, both hands coming down in attempt to push his face away from your messy cunt, but to no avail. katsuki offered you no respite as his hot tongue explored your puffy folds as he began to suck on your clit. “katsu—fuck!”

you’re ignorant to the feeling of another pair of eyes on you, too caught up in the feeling of being eaten out, but katsuki isn’t — he feels shouto’s burning gaze, and he can’t help but smirk to himself. so he was right: icyhot couldn’t resist a good show, and boy, was katsuki about to perform.

“hmm?” he hums, one hand resting on your thigh while he uses the forearm of his other arm to keep you from bucking your hips up. he doesn’t exactly care about what it is you’re whining about; he knows you’re fine and he intends to make you cum at least thrice tonight to show off to shouto, who was apparently a giant closeted pervert.

and it was true. shouto was nasty without even realizing it — and that’s not to say he slept around, god no (he was 24 and still a virgin….), he just had fantasies. many of which involved you, and shamefully, on occasion, you and katsuki. it made his cheeks burn to even think about, but he would be a liar if he said he’d never gotten off to the idea of a threesome with you and your husband. jesus, and now, here the opportunity was laid right there in front of him, and what was he doing? slowly starting to palm at his erection and bite his bottom lip as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

“i— shit–!” you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back as you tug at his hair. “god, just—! slow down!” you whine, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

like in every other aspect in his life, bakugou tended to be rough and aggressive in the bedroom; put simply, you turned him into a feral man—brought out the inner animal in him. he was, as surprising as it may seem to some, a generous lover, however, due to his have to be the best at everything mentality, so, by extension, this included his ability to give and inflict pleasure (mixed with a healthy amount of pain, because, well.. it’s katsuki).

“nah.” blatantly ignoring your request, he pulls his head away from your drooling pussy, the lower half of his face covered in your slick, and blows a cold puff of air against your throbbing slit, causing you to whine out his name as he nips at the fatty skin of your inner thigh—dangerously close to your cunt—sucking and biting until a dark purple mark begins to form. a smirk stretches over his somewhat thin, although plump, lips knowing shouto would never get to litter your body in bruises and hickeys the same way he does.

“mmh—jesus, kats–!” it’s all you can do to whimper as he resumes the disgustingly messy way he was tongue fucking your pussy.

shouto almost groans as he gets harder and harder, almost painfully so, as he watches katsuki fervently eat you out, and suddenly, he wishes it was him between your legs with bakugou watching instead.

as silently as he possibly can, todoroki begins to unbuckle his belt in order to slip a hand past the waistband of both his pants to feel himself through the fabric of his sickeningly tight boxers. he’s careful to bite back what would be any whimpers or quiet moans, knowing it’s so shotover for him if he gets caught.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he watches as you’re eaten out until you’re cumming with a loud cry of your husband’s name (shouto pretended it was his name you were calling out), and he goes to turn around to hide in the bedroom you’d so kindly allowed him to stay in to jerk off until he hears—

“y’gonna come out, icyhot, or are ya just gonna stand there like a loser cuck all night?” katsuki lifts his head from between your legs to look at the half-and-half bastard peeping on him and his spouse…… what a fucking freak.

“sh–shouto!?” you squeak, not having noticed his presence until the man you’d married had pointed him out. “wh–what’re you—!” you can’t even think of what to say before he’s trying to apologize and katsuki’s cussing him out—telling him to get his ass in here before he really makes him sorry.

just how drunk was your husband? or shouto for that matter? truthfully, you were probably the most sober person in the room.

slowly, silently, and shamefully, shouto makes his way into your bedroom, where he comes to stand at the foot of the bed with a horribly noticeable tent in his pants. he wants to look down at the floor, but he’s physically incapable of taking his eyes off your naked, sweaty form—and katsuki’s toned back, for that matter. he gulps anxiously as he waits for the perpetually angry blond to inevitably break the ice.

much to his surprise, however, it was you to speak up first, admitting that you didn’t mind shouto’s presence—followed by katsuki sarcastically asking if you wanted him to join, to which your body stiffened and cheeks flushed at the thought.

“what? don’t tell me you like the idea of that half n’ half idiot joinin’ the fun?” a wicked grin stretches over his slick lips as he quirks a brow up at you before shrugging and saying; “fine, just remember: you asked for this.”

“you heard ‘em, todoroki, get the hell over here,” he spits out, and shouto complies immediately—he could not believe what was about to happen and neither could (nor katsuki for that matter).

as he closes the gap between you three, he fumbles with the buttons of his dress shirt before ultimately just ripping it open and shrugging it onto the floor. repeating the same action with his pants, he struggles slightly with the zipper before tugging it down and quickly stepping out of them, nearly tripping in the process—to which katsuki has to stifle a laugh.

shouto feels dizzy and light-headed from how hard he is, and he bites his thick bottom lip as he nervously crawls onto the oversized bed, sitting adjacent to you as he awaits further instructions from the ever-demanding bakugou.

“katsu—”

“shut up,” he says gruffly, one large hand coming up to cover your mouth—he was about to dictate everything that was about to go down. “you—todoroki—listen real fuckin’ closely, because i’m not repeating myself. you can look, but ‘m still deciding if you’re allowed to touch yet—” katsuki directs his attention from him to you and asks; “whaddya think, princess? would y’like that? both of us touchin’ you?” and it’s all you can do to nod, cheeks physically heating up in shame and embarrassment.

“i guess i’ll allow it, then,” he says, moving his hand away from your face so he can manhandle you into a sitting up position, making you straddle his lap and telling shouto to move behind you.

you feel your heartbeat quicken significantly now that you’re naked and sandwiched between two of the hottest men you’ve ever been blessed with the chance to encounter. dear god. take a breath, you’ve got this. …..and that’s why your pussy’s all but drooling right now? you can’t help but roll your bare cunt over your husband’s erection, letting out a delicious little moan in the process, and shouto’s equally large hands hesitantly find purchase on your hips, and you look back over your shoulder as he leans in attempt to kiss you—just to be blocked by katsuki’s hand against his pouty lips.

“i didn’t fuckin’ say you could kiss them,” he hisses. shouto, however, mentally shrugs this off, grabs the angry blond’s wrist to move his hand, and leans in over your shoulder, pressing his chest firmly against your back, in order to—kiss your husband instead????!

holy shit—this is so much hotter than it should be, jesus christ. you’re genuinely ashamed of the way shouto moving to kiss katsuki rather than you turns you on, and you even let a little oh my god slip in awe and horny amazement.

“what the actual fuck, icyhot!?” your husband explodes, trying to shove shouto away from him, but causing you to fall back fully into his lap, where you can feel his boner pressing up against your ass.

“n–no,” you speak up. “d–do it again.” you try your best not to mutter the request, looking between the man who had crushed on you all through high school and the one you’d ended up marrying.

“huh!? have you both lost your fucking minds?!”

“please..? do it for me, ‘tsuki?” you beg as sweetly as you can, a pout tugging at your lips as you did your best kicked puppy eyes. as tough as bakugou acted, deep down, he did, in fact, have a soft spot for you, and would do nearly anything for you—and this, unfortunately, was about to be one of the things he was willing to do. maybe he had the whiskey to thank for his… bravery, but for some reason, the idea of making out with that peppermint bastard really didn’t seem so bad. ….jesus, what is he thinking?

“tch, fine,” he clicks his tongue before he’s suddenly snatching you out of shouto’s lap and bringing you back onto his, where he shifts so his back’s against the headboard and says; “‘f y’can ride me, then sure, ‘ll do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

nodding eagerly, you tug the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock, where it hits his lower tummy and you impatiently use one hand to line up the angry red tip with your slick entrance before sinking down to the base with ease. you both moan at the feeling and katsuki beckons shouto over after pressing a quick kiss to your shiny lips to remind himself why he was doing this.

shouto’s dick aches enviously, desperately wishing he could feel your heat, but quickly gets over it as his chest presses against your back once again and his lips land against katsuki’s. actually, todoroki was not an experienced kisser—at all, really; he was only copying what he had seen in movies, so he’s a little surprised when the blond’s tongue runs over the seam of his lips and his heterochromatic eyes fly open at the feeling.

katsuki, however, reaches around you to grab shouto’s cheeks, forcing him to part his pretty lips, and he easily slips his tongue past his kiss-swollen lips. meanwhile, shouto’s strong arms wrap around your waist while he allows your husband to explore the inside of his mouth, his face heating up despite the way a chill runs down his spine.

“mmh,” he hums quietly, freezing his tongue in order to give your husband a little surprise—which works very well, seeing as how katsuki pulls away with a heaving gasp.

“what the fuck?” he pants, rolling his hips up into dripping cunt, and you let out a little moan, grinding down against him at the same time, allowing him to brush up against your g-spot while shouto moves to kiss katsuki again, large hands coming up to cup his flushed, tanned cheeks, trying to tilt his head for a better angle as he mimics the way the blond’s tongue had run over the seam of his lips, and is pleasantly surprised when he reluctantly parts his slightly thinner lips for the much calmer man.

jesus christ, you think to yourself, trying to bounce against your husband’s dick to the best of you ability, but groaning in frustration when his absurdly calloused hands come down against your hips to hold you in place.

“mm—’tsuki,” you whine as he wholly focuses on kissing shouto (who was currently living out his wet dream). it’s all you can do to wiggle in place, trying to grind your clit against his neatly trimmed pubic hair, desperate for any kind of friction. meanwhile, shouto’s freezing hand comes up to grope your chest, causing you to let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of him tweaking roughly with your nipple.

poor, poor inexperienced shouto had no gauge or concept of what exactly he was doing, relying on instinct and everything he’d seen in the little porn he had watched; he silently prays he’s acting accordingly and soon his heated left hand is coming up to grab at your other tit.

“sh–shouto!” you moan, almost causing katsuki to pause in his action as a growl leaves his throat—now this just simply would not do, no, no, no. !!!! fuck! his dick twitches inside you as he ruts his hips upwards while holding firmly onto your hips. “je–jesus! katsuki!”

that’s better, he thinks to himself, a smug, self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his plump lips as he tries not to overthink his kiss with todoroki. god. as fucking embarrassing, humiliating, and shameful as it was, …..katsuki absolutley could not deny the fact that he was feeling so, so, so many things right now, things he never would have considered sober, let alone acted on, and now….. now, he was rock fucking hard as he feels the inside of shouto’s mouth, tracing his tongue along the grooves of his blindingly white teeth and inner cheeks before swirling it around his own heated muscle.

he wants to tell shouto he’s not half bad at this when he begins to suck on his tongue—taking him violently by surprise—but can’t bring himself to dole out the praise, not wanting him to get an ego about how well he was managing to keep up.

you can feel your stomach doing flips and your pussy creaming around your husband’s cock as the two men you’re sandwiched between really go at it, and suddenly your mouth feels dry as you let out a low, drawn out whine.

“fuck,” is all you’re able to say as you dig your nails into katsuki’s back while arching your own, with shouto still pinching and tweaking with your poor, erect nipples—his hands were almost at extreme temperatures, and you choke out something about how good it feels, offering the number three hero the praise he needed—something bakugou wasn’t a huge fan of.

half n’ half wants to use his quirk? that’s fine—he can, too!

the next thing you know, your hips feel scorchingly hot and you’re hearing the sound of a very small-scale explosion, and you yelp out your husband’s name, pussy fluttering around his achy length, and you have to bite your lower lip when you feel tears welling up in your eyes from all the stimulation. had you known inviting a drunk shouto to stay the night would lead to this, you would have done it years ago! …because honestly, you were crushing hard on him your freshman year of highschool together—but unfortunately for you, that’s when he had first begun to actually explore his emotions for the first time in his life, leading you to believe you never stood a chance with him.

katsuki, however, while his primary emotion was anger, you could tell something was up with him and his feelings towards you when he stopped yelling at you as much compared to the others. don’t get one wrong, he definitely still shouted at you, because that’s just who he was, but….. it was enough for you and the girls of 1-A to pick up on—something they teased you relentlessly about behind closed doors because nobody ever dared to mention anything in front of bakugou in fear of ruining your chances together (as you see, mina and a few others were die hard shippers while the rest enabled this behavior).

“christ’s sake, katsuki,” you hiss as his quirk repeatedly pops off against your reddening skin and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep yourself grounded enough to scold him. …try to, anyway. “thi— this isn’t a—ahh! fuck!—a compe–titon! jesus!” you moan.

a competition.

that word ring in katsuki’s ears as he pulls away from his kiss with shouto, admittedly a little breathlessly, a smirk stretching over his glossy lips.

“now that’s an idea,” he muses out loud, causing shouto to tilt his head and your eyes to widen. goddammit, you just had to go and open your bigass mouth, didn’t you?

“n–no; whatever you— you’re planning, forget about it,” you say as firmly as you can despite the way your pussy flutters around him.

bakugou clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at the way you whine out such a ridiculous request.

“mmh, nah,” he grins, hands holding you firmly in place against him, preventing you from even rolling your hips—something you’re quick to bitch about.

“god–dammit!” sometimes you wish your husband wasn’t so goddamn strong—it made it that much easier for him to manhandle you into any position he wanted.

“y’up for a little challenge, icyhot?” katsuki ignores you entirely, focusing his intense gaze onto the slightly younger man.

“...sure,” he nods, albeit a little reluctantly, unsure of what exactly he was agreeing to. he hopes he’ll get a chance to steal a kiss from you, but for now, he figures it best to go along with whatever bakugou was about to suggest.

“whoever can make princess here cum the most in five minutes each can fuck their cunt,” he begins, just for shouto to interrupt him.

“and what of the loser?”

“i was getting there—impatient sonuva bitch….” he mutters the last part under his breath like he wasn’t also an impatient sonuva bitch. “anyway, the loser—in this case, i’m sure it’ll be you, y’fuckin’ virgin cuck—can…. fuck right off and watch,” he finishes, cock twitching deep inside you at his own words. he was absolutely positive he’d win the little proposition he’d struck up, which is why the punishment for the loser was so harsh. when in all reality, if he was feeling kind enough, he’d let you suck shouto off as a consolation prize. ….maybe.

“sounds good to me,” todoroki agrees to bakugou’s conditions, feeling his own dick twitch as he steels his nerves—he was so fucked. in this moment, shouto’s never been more grateful for being a fast learner, as that was his only chance at possibly succeeding in such a task. he wasn’t particularly familiar with the afab body, and so he has to actively recall all the porn he had seen—mind you, he was incredibly picky about what exactly he’s watching—when suddenly an idea strikes him and he’s asking katsuki to move his hands so he can pull you off his cock and reposition you so your back was against the bed.

you and your husband are both confused until shouto’s pushing your thighs apart and nestling between them, icy lips kissing down your body until he reaches the mound of your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but get shy—not because you weren’t used to being eaten out, no (katsuki often ate you out until you couldn’t see straight), it was because you just simply were not expecting that from the inexperienced shouto todoroki! but it’s okay, just take a deep breath and—

“aa–aah! fuck! shouto!” you cry out, caught off guard by the way his full lips wrap around your erect clit and begin suckling on it, his freezing tongue moving to swirl around it as he does. he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing and is more or less figuring it out as he goes based on your reactions and moans.

katsuki is just as taken aback as you were, but for totally different reasons; this was probably one of the last things he had expected todoroki to do, but, but, but…!!! fuck! he couldn’t even be mad about it either because he was the one who had decided to turn it into a competition. shit. okay, whatever, he’d just work around this.

“nngh–!” one of your hands comes to run through shouto’s split hair, tugging the soft locks gently. “wh–where the fuck did you—aah! hhngh!—learn h–how to do this?” you ask breathlessly, looking down at the man between your legs, and you feel a chill run down your spine and goosebumps erupt over your skin when you realize he’s looking right back at you—staring at you intently, doing his best to gauge all your little reactions, both verbal and physical.

katsuki can’t help but agree with your question, because seriously, where the fuck had he learned this shit!?

all he’s able to do, though, is watch with awe as shouto focuses wholly on his attempt to eat you out — which he was seemingly doing a good job at — as one large and calloused hand subconsciously comes down to jerk himself off slowly, thumb swiping over his bright red, leaky tip, and he hisses out a quiet fuck while your back arches off the bed.

shouto, however, doesn’t answer, in favor of bringing a heated finger down to your slick entrance — gently prodding at it before slipping it in with ease.

“mmmffgh,” you whine as he curls it up slowly, all while sucking on your throbbing clit, and it doesn’t take long for a knot to build up in your lower stomach. “nngh– sh–shouto!”

he simply ignores you as he begins to slip a second finger in—gradually heating them up as he did—and you moan pathetically as your husband watches on in awe, his mouth horribly dry and dick achingly hard, and for a moment, he’s scared he might cum to the sight of another man eating his spouse out—so he intentionally slows his pace to something almost painfully slow to make sure he doesn’t prematurely ejaculate, wanti—no, Needing to cum inside you.

starting to scissor you apart now, you clench around shouto’s burning fingers desperately, whining as his freezing right hand comes up to pinch one of your already stiff nipples.

“nngh–!” it’s not long before you’re cumming with a loud cry of shouto’s name while pulling at his soft hair, back arching deeply off the mattress as katsuki lets out a growl at the sight, already seething with envy….. whatever; he takes in a deep breath to calm himself down and slowly starts to increase the pace at which he’s jerking himself off, groaning softly as he does.

todoroki doesn’t relent in his pace, however, messily eating you out throughout the duration of your orgasm, resulting in you cumming a second time not long after.

“nnngh—’s too much, shouto—” you choke out, pulling at his hair while trying to push him away at the same time. “f–fuck!” it had maybe been two minutes, meaning you had to endure for another three. but how exactly were you meant to do that? with the way he was all but making out with your cunt, you turn your attention to katsuki, pathetically mewling for help—just for him to shut you down! reminding you that you agreed to this and that he knows you can take it.

the most your husband had ever made you cum in one night was four times—a record he was gunning to beat tonight.

by the time shouto’s time was up, he had managed to make you cum three times, on his way to working you up to a fourth, before katsuki’s letting go of his dick and burying his thick fingers in todoroki’s hair, yanking him away from your pulsing heat.

“hey—” shouto pants breathlessly, lower face covered in your slick.

“time’s up, icyhot,” your husband rasps out before asking you how many times you’d cum.

“th– three, but— i need a break before we keep goin’,” you tell him, panting heavily with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

katsuki simply nods in acknowledgement, untangling his fingers from shouto’s hair as all three of you take this moment to catch your breath. then, after a brief three or so minutes of rest, bakugou’s crawling on top of you as shouto watches on this time, cock leaky and painfully hard as he palms himself through his horribly tight boxers while katsuki kisses you.

“love ya, kats,” you’re able to pant out, and shouto feels his heart break a little; he wishes he could be on the receiving end of those words some day... but for now, he shifts so he’s kneeling on the bed, legs tucked neatly under him with his thighs spread wide enough for his heated left hand to sneak past the waistband of his boxers in order to grope himself.

bakugou smiles against your lips at your words rather than returning them, and his tongue slides out to poke its way into your already open mouth, easily licking over the insides of your cheeks and grooves of your teeth.

as he watches the two of you makeout, todoroki begins to reflect on his kiss with katsuki earlier, and he finds himself yearning to hear those three little words from him, too, or to be able to kiss you as well….. maybe when this is all said and done… maybe he can work up the courage to ask to join your relationship..? or maybe he’d leave early in the morning full of shame…. he isn’t quite sure yet.

“mmngh—” you moan softly as one of katsuki’s large and calloused hands trails down your side, moving to cup your puffy cunt, before two thick fingers easily insert themselves into you without much of a warning—fortunately, you were still soaked from your slick and shouto’s spit from where he’d eaten you out so good, so your husband didn’t meet any resistance when scissoring you apart. “k–katsu–!”

“yeah?” he pants as his cock drools uncomfortably. it’s okay. he’d just have to make you cum four times in five minutes, and—the idea that shouto might beat him at a challenge he proposed due to your fatigue from allowing that icyhot cunt to go first suddenly flashes in his mind, and he’s hardened over with a certain resolve he’d allowed to slip in his overwhelmingly horny state of mind.

“i— ah! hnnngh— ‘m still se–sensitive,” you whine out, arching your back off the bed at the stimulation, and it’s all you can do to pull at his hair when you feel the calloused pad of his thumb press against your swollen, oversensitive clit. as the fingers almost knuckle-deep inside you press into your g-spot, you go crosseyed from the combined feeling of being finger-fucked and having your tongue sucked on (when’d he start doing that!?).

katsuki, however, ignores your weak mewls in favor of kissing you so hard your teeth clack together briefly before he’s tilting his head for a better angle and nipping softly at your tongue, causing you to squeak in surprise.

rolling your hips up and grinding down against his hand, desperate for more fiction, shouto watches on in awe and horny amazement, taking notes on how your body reacted to katsuki, hoping he could imitate his actions, or develop them into his own, next time he got the chance.

soon, though, katsuki’s five minutes come to an end, with you only having cum twice by his doing—something that makes his eye twitch as he realizes that meant icyhot would get to fuck your cunt. ….goddammit! he’d gotten too caught up in the feeling of your lips against his to focus fully on fingering you! sure, he was just about to bring you to your third orgasm–but! oh, this so wasn’t fair! if only he’d gone first! then you wouldn’t have been so worn out!

shit. with a sigh, he pulls away from your body as his eye begins twitching and he looks over to shouto—who currently had his hand wrapped around his cock—and lets out a huff.

“there’s no way i’m letting him fuck you,” he grunts out, crossing his muscular arms.

“kats, that’s not— ‘s’not fair,” you chide him, panting heavily and sitting up on your forearms. “you said— said the winner—” your cheeks flush as you remember the words he’d used and you shake your head to clear the thought from your mind. “...could fuck me—you wouldn’t wanna go back on your word, would you?”

shouto’s heart rate increases as you stick up for him, and he feels the extra blood circulating throughout his body go straight to his throbbing dick as his eyes light up with hope—never in a million years would he think he’d get the chance to have sex with you!

“mm, …fine,” katsuki agrees, salty he’d lost at his own competition, but willing to do whatever to make you happy, so… he almost retches a little at the thought and he feels his heart break in his chest ever so slightly, but… if staying true to his word and letting that half n’ half bastard fuck you would make you happy, then…. he guesses he can let it slide…

with that, shouto’s shifting onto his knees a little more in order to slide his boxers down his well-toned thighs so his pretty cock can slap against his lower tummy and he’s quick to grab you by the hips, pulling you towards him before katsuki’s words cause him to pause.

“not so fast, icyhot, if you’re gonna fuck ‘em, then they can at least suck me off while you do,” he growls, moving so that he’s behind you and then manhandling out of shouto’s grasp so that you were facing him. “get on all fours, sweetheart,” he instructs you, and you obey with a nod, presenting shouto with your ass and drooling cunt and he swallows thickly at the sight.

his hands plant themselves on your hips once more and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips—you were glad shouto would at least get a chance to enjoy himself, as you’re sure he probably doesn’t have many good stress relievers, if any at all…

with that in mind, you make sure to arch your back nicely for the man on his knees behind you as you take your husband’s dick in one hand while supporting your weight with the other and press a little kiss to the bright red tip before slowly taking it into your hot mouth.

katsuki hisses out a groan at the feeling of you hollowing your cheeks as you gradually take him down to almost the base, your hand wrapped around what doesn’t currently fit in your mouth, and swallow thickly around him.

“shit—” a hand is quick to bury itself in your hair to guide your pace as shouto’s jaw slackens in the slightest before he gets a grip and starts to align his swollen and leaky tip with your creamy pussy, moaning much louder than he was expecting to at the feeling of your warm, gummy walls wrapped around his virgin cock. suddenly, whatever metaphorical grip he did have immediately slips away from him as his physical grip tightens to an almost painful extent, and you’re sure he’ll leave bruises in the shapes of his fingertips—similar to the way your husband so often does.

“aa–aah! fuck!” todoroki whines as he takes his time bottoming out—biting his tongue as he pushes into you almost agonizingly slow, causing you to moan around your husband’s dick, resulting in him pushing your head down further against him and your pussy to flutter around the poor, overwhelmed shouto.

you nearly gag as his mushroom-headed tip hits the back of your throat, but are able to suppress your reflex to do so well enough to remove your hand from around him while you focus on breathing through your nose as you take him down to the base, until your face is flush against his pelvis, light blond pubes tickling your nostrils slightly.

you try to stay that way for as long as possible, swallowing around him continuously to fight your own gag reflex rather than out of consideration of his pleasure, but it’s only been a few seconds when you’re fighting against his strong palm to come up for air.

after pulling off him with a disgustingly wet pop! and panting heavily, you make the suggestion that the two should kiss again — arguing that if your husband is just gonna offer your pussy to be fucked without asking you, then the least he could do was makeout with the man balls deep inside you.

“what?” katsuki barks out, looking down at you, with your head between his thighs.

“please, ‘tsuki?” you ask nicely, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

shouto wants to join in with your pleading—to ask katsuki for a kiss, too, but he knows better, knows your husband will begrudgingly cave to your demands and that he’ll ultimately receive another kiss.

“tsk… fine—c’mere, icyhot,” he grunts, one hand pushing your head back down onto his dick as the other reaches for shouto. both men lean over you in order to lock lips, and the younger one can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he gets what he wants.

todoroki’s hips press flush against your ass as he leans over your sweaty, overstimulated body to makeout with your husband. god, you weren’t, like, …a fujoshi or anything, but…. something about the idea of katsuki and shouto going at it in particular had your stomach in knots and cunt clamping down snugly around shouto’s girth.

“jesus—” the half and half man pants at the feeling of your pussy, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to go this long without it. ….or if he’ll be able to live without yours specifically from here on out…… okay, it’s decided. he’d ask to join your relationship, somehow, when this was all said and done, but for now he isn’t sure whether to focus on his kiss with katsuki or the feeling of his dick throbbing almost painfully inside you.

ultimately, his attention is drawn to the way bakugou nips harshly at his lower lip—enough to draw a small amount of blood—and a moan gets caught in shouto’s throat, coming out as something more akin to a whimper instead; something that certainly makes katsuki’s ears perk up. had todoroki just fuckin’ whimpered from something he had done? for a reason other than getting pussy for the first time in his stupid virgin life? needless to say, it quickly goes to bakugou’s ego as he begins sucking on shouto’s lower lip, tongue swiping over it quickly at first, and then a second time that was considerably slower and more teasing in nature.

poor shouto can feel himself going cross-eyed as he ruts into you sloppily, heavy balls smacking against your clit, and he knows he won’t last long like this at all. he’s kinda bummed he can’t …make love to you the way he would prefer, but right now, he doesn’t find himself picky at all—just grateful to be a part of this entire thing, even if he may not get the chance again in the future. that’s why it was critical for him to be present in the moment, literally drooling from how good he feels, as he uses his quirk on his tongue while swirling it around katsuki’s, the now freezing muscle licking over the insides of his cheeks and grooves of his teeth, sending a chill down your husband’s spine.

the saliva being exchanged between the two begins to dribble out from the corners of their mouths and drip down their chins and onto your arched back. holy shit. you nearly choke on katsuki’s dick at the feeling of their spit rolling down your spine and you moan in both disgust and twisted pleasure.

“nnmgh,” you moan, tongue pressed flat against the underside of his dick as shouto drills into you. now it’s you who finds themselves drooling profusely, your spit running down katsuki’s cock, soaking his balls.

the blond can feel himself throbbing down your throat and he groans from the combined stimulation of you blowing him and shouto’s icy tongue—he’s close and he knows it. …meaning that half and half whore was definitely about to cum, with the way your pussy is surely milking him for all he’s worth.

“shouto,” he grunts out, pulling away just enough to tell him that if he’s gonna cum, then he has to pull out—that katsuki was the only one allowed to cum inside you.

todoroki was more taken aback by the usage of his first name from bakugou of all people, and it’s all he can do to nod and mumble a quiet yeah.

it’s not much longer before both mean reach their climax around the same time—with shouto pulling out to jerk himself off for a few more seconds and he’s cumming all over your back with a loud cry as your husband cums in your mouth, thick cum spilling down your throat, past your tongue, not even giving you a chance to taste him.

after both men catch their breath, katsuki slowly pulls you off of him as he gazes down at you with a particularly soft look in his eye—or maybe it’s satisfaction, you’re too fucked out to really tell.

“y’okay, princess?” your husband rasps out, grinning to himself at your teary eyes, one hand cupping your cheek, and you blindly lean into his warm touch.

“mmhm,” is all you can hum in response, borderline brain dead from how many times you’d cum tonight—clit still throbbing from the earlier stimulation.

“good….” he directs his attention to shouto, but doesn’t ask him anything, instead looking him up and down, eyes lingering on his dick for a moment longer than he’d like to admit. he quickly redirects his gaze to shouto’s heterochromatic one, and the softest, barely there smile tugs at the corners of his lips. it was so small and brief, one might think they were hallucinating had they seen it, but todoroki catches sight of it, and he wants to say something, but finds himself speechless; so instead, he leans in to kiss your husband again, and, very much to his surprise, he doesn’t immediately recoil. given, he doesn’t lean in to meet him either, but he does kiss him back as you shift to the side, panting heavily while you watch the two muscular and domineering men go at it for the nth time tonight, and you can hardly believe your eyes.

one hand slips down in between your legs as they kiss, rubbing gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves while shouto takes the initiative this time, running his now heated tongue over the seam of katsuki’s lips before licking into his mouth, but moans quietly when the usually angry, but now somewhat calm, blond begins sucking on the hot muscle, one hand coming up to almost cradle the back of shouto’s head as he buries in fingers in his two-toned hair, pulling at it roughly.

“y’know icyhot, you’re really not that bad at this,” he tells him, which is the closest to doling out praise he’ll ever get.

shouto, however, takes this to heart as a soft smile pulls at his lips and suddenly he finds himself cupping katsuki’s face and knocking him onto the bed, clumsily clamoring on top of him, and your jaw genuinely drops at the scene in front of you. holy shit.

“yeah?” shouto breathes from on top of katsuki, who was just as shocked as you were, if not moreso. what the fuck? how the fuck? what was he meant to do? he looks over to you for an idea of where to go with this, and his eyes widen when he sees you touching yourself to the sight of them. …alright, he supposes he can get behind this.

looking back over to shouto, he replies: “sure, ..but i’m better,” and easily manages to flip the pair so that he was on top instead.

“nngh–” you moan as softly, your free hand coming to grope one of your tits, pinching and tweaking with your already erect nipples. you don’t know if you can handle another orgasm, but the sight of the pair in front of each other is simply too hot to not jerk to.

shouto, meanwhile, wraps his arms around katsuki’s neck as he pulls him in for a disgustingly sloppy and heated kiss, lips parting by themselves as he cranes his neck upwards. similarly, he moans as well, tongue already seeking out katsuki’s while you fondle yourself and slowly work yourself up to one final orgasm.

nipping at his lower lip the same way he’d done to shouto earlier, katsuki retaliates by pulling away from the kiss to bite at his neck — even going as far as to suck against a few particular spots, leaving hickeys to bloom in the place of his mouth. for a moment, the idea of jerking shouto off crosses his mind, but that would be going too far for bakugou.

you, however, encourage this behavior, telling them to put on a show for you as you try not to cringe at the feeling of shouto’s cum drying on your bare back.

so, it’s shouto who finds himself reaching for katsuki’s dick without a second thought, and he heats up his hand a bit to tease the poor blond (there is nothing poor about that man…), causing him to hiss in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

“shit—you’d think you would ask someone before just grabbing their dick,” he grunts out, making shouto chuckle a bit at his words.

“sorry,” he says simply, thumb running over the leaky slit of his mushroom-headed tip, and he really, really wishes he could suck him off…… christ. maybe… maybe he should ask? you were the one who told them to put on a show after all..!

shouto ultimately decides against it, though, too embarrassed to do so, and instead settles for jerking katsuki off slowly and with intent.

“nngh–” bakugou nearly whimpers—not that he’d ever actually do something like that, obviously—and he pulls at shouto’s hair, dick still sensitive from the way you’d sucked him off so good a few moments prior.

it doesn’t take too long before katsuki finds himself cumming sooner than he’d like to admit, biting down on shouto’s neck in order to cope with the stimulation from his former classmate and fellow pro-hero.

you, too, find yourself cumming rather quickly, back arching off the mattress as shouto slows his pace to a halt, pulling his hand away and licking katsuki’s cum off it while making full eye contact with him—something that, shamefully, turned both you and the blond on.

you two would have to have a very serious discussion after this about how to move on from here, but for now, the two men turn their focus back to you, finally worn out for the night. katsuki easily shifts to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as shouto moves to get off the bed and go back to his guest room where he’d lay awake for the rest of the night—until he hears you call out for him softly, inviting him to sleep in your bed for the night; something katsuki doesn’t protest against, too tired to do so—and even if he did, his heart wouldn’t be in it. unfortunately, he very much enjoyed his time with the two of you tonight, and might seriously have to entertain your future request of letting shouto join your relationship.

in the meantime, however, shouto abides and comes to lay on the other side of you, flushed and sweaty body pressing against your back as your chest smushes against katsuki’s significantly warmer one, and you’re quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat and shouto’s steady breathing.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

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tender-rosiey · 11 months ago

Note

What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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pepperyduck · 5 months ago

Text

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

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nichuuu · 24 days ago

Text

From Eden

Jeon Heejin x M reader

(1st instalment of De Selby)

PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.

Word count: 10k

You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke.

As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.

She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone.

***

To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right?

Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.

“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”

The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”

You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”

Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer.

“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”

“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me.

She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”

It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”

You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.

“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”

She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring.

“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.

“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).

You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”

Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.

A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests.

“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.

“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).

“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.

Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.

Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her.

Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.

Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.

You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—

“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”

It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.

Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).

And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt.

“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”

It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom.

“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”

To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).

Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.

“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”

“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”

“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”

“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”

Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder.

“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”

A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”

There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.

“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.

There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”

Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.

“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”

They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”

She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.

With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.

The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment.

She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.

“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”

You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.

Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.

She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer.

“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”

***

You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.

“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”

In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you.

You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.

In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.

***

“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”

On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow.

“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”

Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.

Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”

“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.

Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”

And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.

“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”

“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.

“Not quite… But somewhat.”

Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know.

“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”

She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.

“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”

It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now.

“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.

“Not this guy.” Heejin’s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”

You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”

Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”

And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.

You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”

“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”

“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”

She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you.

“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.

“You do a lot of that.”

Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”

You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything.

“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.

When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach.

“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”

And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth.

The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of.

“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”

The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game.

“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”

“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”

For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time.

“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”

There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.

“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.”

“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”

“Uh… No.”

Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”

She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault.

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”

And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon.

“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.

“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”

He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”

“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”

Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.

The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point.

“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”

You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.

“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”

“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”

Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from.

“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”

You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.

“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.

“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”

***

You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.

“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”

She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”

You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.

“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern.

Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”

She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”

Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.

Always a dance with her.

***

You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life.

(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.

“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts.

“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”

Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.

How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point.

Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex.

Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?

“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”

She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word.

Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.

“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”

“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”

It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.

She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.

When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard.

She peeks an eye open to see you staring.

“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.

***

So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.

“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”

“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl.

“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”

“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”

“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.

Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.

Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.

Cheers, Nichu

#kpop #fanfic #heejin #heejin smut #artms #artms heejin

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archangeldyke-all · 2 months ago

Note

Imagine reader and sevika when they have to good cop bad cop isha because she keeps trying to dye the cats fur and they have to explain that the kitty probably doesn’t like that☹️

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

men and minors dni

jinx is up in piltover for the evening to go to a metal concert with vi, which has left isha on her own.

it's not like she doesn't like you and sevika-- you'd go as far as to say she loves you, even if it's only been a few months. but you guys aren't jinx. neither of you have her energy, creativity, or spontaneity, and after a few rounds of hide and seek isha had sighed with disappointment and sadly informed you and sevika that you guys were boring.

sevika took offense. you just laughed and ruffled isha's hair.

"jinx'll be home by the time you wake up in the morning tomorrow, kiddo. you're just gonna have to entertain yourself 'til then. wanna help me cook dinner?"

isha makes a face of mild disgust. you chuckle.

"wanna come grocery shopping with me?" sevika offers.

isha sighs long and dramatically, rolling her eyes and walking back to her bedroom. over her shoulder, she signs nevermind.

when her door clicks closed, sevika bursts into laughter. "thank fuckin' god she doesn't talk. little miss's got an attitude."

you grin. "she's really a little mini-jinx, isn't she?" you ask fondly.

the evening passes quickly after that. sevika heads out to the grocery store, a long list and a bunch of re-usable bags in hand. you get to work doing the laundry that's accumulated over the past day, mopping the kitchen floor that never seems to stay clean, then getting started on dinner.

from time to time, a thump or a giggle will leak out of the girls' room over the sound of the radio isha's clicked on. it makes you smile, hearing her play.

sevika gets home just as you're throwing your veggies in the oven to roast.

"how were the markets?" you ask.

"chaos. how was it here?" she asks, kissing you on the cheek as she sets her bags down. you both get started putting food away.

"quiet. isha's in her room. i got most of that blood stain out of your shirt, but there were some stubborn splotches. it's soaking in some vinegar now, i'll see how it looks in a bit. dinner's almost ready."

"hey, i got a discount on the lunch meat!" sevika says, turning around to face you with a grin as she presents the paper packages of salami and turkey to you. you grin.

never in a million years would you have guessed that your life would come to this: being this disgustingly domestic with sevika in your kitchen, getting excited over grocery discounts on your kids' favorite foods. you wouldn't trade it for the fucking world.

"oh yeah? how'd you manage that, big mama?" you ask. sevika rolls her eyes, but her smile never fades.

"knew the guy running the deli." she says, tossing the meat onto the counter to free her hands enough to pull you toward her. "he owed me a favor."

"did you intimidate the deli guy, sevika?" you ask as you wrap your arms around her shoulders. she grins, her eyes sparkling.

"who me? baby, i would never do such a thing." she says through a shit eating grin.

you lean in to kiss her, unable to stop yourself when she's smiling at you like that. she sighs happily against you, one of her hands trialing down to squeeze your ass, making you giggle.

there's a jingle, then a quiet thump, and you pull away to glare over sevika's shoulders at chicken the cat as she jumps onto the counter to try to steal sevika's discounted deli meat.

"chicken get-- what the fuck?" you laugh as you stare at the cat.

sevika turns around to see what you're blinking at, and she bursts into laughter.

chicken's half bald-- most of her hair growing in small grey splotches around her body, her pink skin on full display in some patches.

now, though, chicken's just a blob of blue.

she sits on the counter, licking her paw, her tail flicking happily behind her as she waits for you to turn your back again. there are small blue paw prints trailing from isha's bedroom all the way to the kitchen.

sevika's still cackling.

you groan, reaching out for the poor, poor cat. "oh, chicken, what did she do to you, huh?" you ask, pulling the cat into your arms.

"meow." chicken replies, cuddling up against you.

"oh, janna, now you know why isha's been so quiet." sevika giggles. you groan. your hands are actively turning blue as you hold the cat.

"isha!" you call.

sevika tries to bite back her smile as little footsteps come running toward the kitchen. you elbow her when she sputters at the sight of your kid: her hands, clothes, and half her face stained blue too.

hi big mama. isha greets sevika waving happily. sevika grins and pulls isha up into her arms. when she comes eye-level to chicken, isha grins. you like chicken's hair? she signs, her little feet kicking around sevika's hips in excitement. did it myself! she signs proudly.

"i love it kid. i don't think chicken likes it, though." sevika says, giggling. you glare at her, cursing her for forcing you to be bad cop again.

what do you mean?

"isha, baby, you remember how when we dyed your hair we did it outside so it wouldn't get messy?" you ask. she nods. sevika snorts. "is your room all blue now, babe?" you ask with a wince. isha nods again. you sigh gustily. sevika cackles. "okay. well, next time you wanna do an art project, you gotta let one of us know, first, so we can help you not make messes." you say.

isha pouts, signing a shy sorry. you sigh and lean forward to kiss her.

"'s okay, baby. and... if you wanna dye the cat's hair again, you gotta tell us. cat hair is different than human hair-- chicken could be allergic to some of the stuff in this blue dye." you say. isha nods again, her eyes big and watery. you huff and shake your head-- unable to be any meaner with the sweet baby girl.

"there's dye out there made for pets, baby. we can buy some when chicken grows out of her blue look now. maybe we can do purple next, whaddya think chicken?" sevika asks.

"meow."

isha giggles, and you sigh, wrapping your free arm around your wife and the giggling girl in her arms. "you're too fuckin' cute for your own good, you know." you whisper into isha's scalp.

she giggles and nods. you said a bad word, ms. baby. she signs. sevika bursts into laughter, and you grin.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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bbydoll18xx · 4 months ago

Text

I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Part 2)

You give Paige some guidance when it comes to self-pleasure.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 1

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes: mentions of sex, sex toys, and some ~self-pleasure~

A/N: hiii guys!!! I honestly cannot get over the love for part 1. That was probably one of my favorite things I’ve written since I’ve been here on tumblr, and I’m so glad you guys shared the love 💜😚

I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint!!

Here we go!!

“You shoulda seen the way she was blushing! I’ve never seen her act that way!” KK roars to the rest of UConn’s women’s basketball team, the girls leaning forward in extreme interest as KK recounts how Paige had turned into a bumbling mess in your presence the day prior.

“God, KK, shut up. I did not,” Paige whines, her face growing warm with humiliation.

“There she goes again,” Jana teases, and the girls erupt into another round of laughter.

“Y’all suck,” Paige pouts, walking off the basketball court and heading towards the locker room for a much needed reprieve.

The taunting had yet to stop since she had stepped foot in the sex shop a week prior. KK and Ice had hunted down valuable information that a certain someone had worked there, and they had forced Paige to come inside, knowing you were standing behind the counter.

Paiges’ thoughts drift back to that day, as they had nearly a million times the past week, and she muses over the way your hair had flowed over your shoulders and your lips glistened pink.

Her crush on you was unwavering, the same way the ocean waves continuously kissed the shoreline.

And despite what nearly everyone had perceived about Paige Bueckers, she was absolutely terrified when it came to expressing her feelings. Especially about you. So she bottled them up, settling for watching you from afar with a hope that maybe she’d muster up the courage to talk to you.

That was until her teammates had made the decision to do so for her.

She really couldn't be all that mad at them.

Her crush on you had started three years ago. The two of you had shared a fondness for studying in the same area of the library, where it was quiet and away from the loudness of your respective roommates. Paige’s grades had always been good, but the daily motivation of seeing you, tongue occasionally peaking out in concentration and your body nestled in large, comfy-looking sweatshirts had Paige securing her place on the Dean’s List semester after semester.

And with everything Paige did, she completely lacked subtlety when it came to you, and it only took a few longing glances in your direction for Ice and KK to connect the dots.

“Oh, c’mon you can’t be mad at me,” KK whines, running into the locker room after Paige.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Well, you ain’t gotta put me on blast.” She sits on the bench, putting her head in her hands.

“You’re being way too dramatic. She offered to show you how to use the damn toy,” KK stresses, and Paige’s face goes pink again.

“Soo,” she drags out the word with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Just take her up on the offer and boom you can have sex and then live happily ever after!”

Paige’s eyes widen as KK, in the midst of her rambling, doesn’t see Coach Geno walk in behind her.

Based on the look on his face, he had definitely heard KK, and he clears his throat, causing KK to whip around, her hand flying over her mouth as she pieces the situation together.

“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath, sending a weak smile over to Geno, who just waves her away, a disgusted grimace on his face.

But as Geno rambles on about how the practice went, Paige’s thoughts drift back to the way you suggested to help her.

Would you really want to? Paige was navigating something completely new, and it was stressing her the fuck out.

If only there was a way to get rid of the pent up anxiety.

On the other side of campus, you were having a similar dilemma. You had been trying to work out what had come over you yesterday when you had boldly and uncharacteristically offered to teach Paige Bueckers how to use a vibrator.

The interaction plays in your mind for the millionth time, and you slap a palm across your forehead in frustration.

“I am so fucking stupid,” you groan, catching the attention of your roommate who was working on a paper at the seat across from you at your most favorite spot in the library.

“What’d you do now?” She asks, and you divulge her in yesterday's interaction with Paige, and her eyes widen.

“Dude, you have been drooling over her for the past three years, and you’re telling me you’re not going to wife her up?” She asks in a hushed whisper.

“I think she was just being polite,” you sigh. “We exchanged numbers, but I’ve been too scared to do anything.”

Charlotte shakes her head in mock derision, “I raised you better than that.”

You sit there a moment, contemplating.

“Fuck. Okay, I’m gonna do it.”

Pulling out your phone, you pull up Paige’s contact information, your fingers shaking slightly as they ghost over the keypad.

“Hi, still need some help? If not, no big deal. Just thought I couldn’t leave a pretty girl stranded,” you read out to Charlotte as you compose the text, and she claps loudly in approval.

“God I hope she doesn't think I'm some sort of sex addict,” you moan, looking at the delivered sign under the text.

Back in the locker room, Paige nearly chokes on a swig of water as your text appears on her screen. Aubrey, who is sitting next to her, slaps her on the back a few times, before leaning over to take a good look at what was causing the reaction.

Aubrey hoots loudly as she reads the text and promptly snatches Paige’s phone out of her hands to show it to KK, who had proudly deemed herself the captain of yours and Paige’s ship.

“FINALLY!” KK yells, fist pumping the air with great enthusiasm, and the whole locker room erupts into laughter again.

Paige rereads the text. And then again. Your words were flirty and sure, just as they had been yesterday, and Paige is once again reduced to a blushing, simpering mess.

She looks around the room, eyes wide and a shy grin on her face. “What do I say?” And the girls erupt again.

“Tell her you wanna fu—” KK starts eagerly before Azzi, who was sitting next to the younger girl, covers her mouth with a sharp look on her face. KK moves Azzi’s hand away, pouting and muttering to herself about how she’s “just tryna help Paige get some pussy.”

With pink cheeks and a pounding heart, Paige composes a reply, hiding her phone from the curious eyes of her teammates, hoping it seemed way more confident than she felt. You had a strange effect on her, reducing her assured ways into a bumbling mess, teetering on the edge of falling into madness.

And it was just the beginning.

After all, you had yet to even touch her.

That night you stand in front of Paige’s door with a pounding heart, determined to keep up the facade you had attached to your being, and as she appears on the other side, it is cemented.

There was just something about seeing a bashful Paige Bueckers that makes your confidence soar, and you send her a cheeky smile, reveling in her mannerisms.

Paige leads you into her bedroom, and you immediately spot the purple vibrator laying atop of the comforter.

You break the ice. “So what’s stopping you from finishing?” You ask, looking her in the eyes.

An embarrassed chuckle leaves those pink lips, and she rubs a hand over the back of her neck. “I guess I just keep gettin’ distracted,” she mumbles, and you nod in understanding.

“I like to think about someone,” you say boldly and pointedly. “If you close your eyes and immerse yourself into a fantasy, it’s almost like they’re there with you.”

You watch as she takes a deep breath, like she’s mentally preparing for what she says next.

“Can I try again? And you can walk me through it?”

The air leaves your lungs, surprised by her suggestion, and you agree before any other thought could cross your mind.

The situation was something out of a filthy romance book, and as Paige undresses down to her boxers and her sports bra, you thank every star you had wished on the last three years for letting this happen.

Paige settles onto her pillows, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, and with shaky hands, grabs the vibrator.

“P,” you say softly, and her eyes fly back open, meeting yours. “Use your hands first. Tease yourself, and let the arousal build up,” you suggest kindly, and she nods, putting the toy back down.

She runs her hands across her toned stomach, causing your own to lurch with want. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillows, and her bottom lip was red and plump from biting it, and despite just getting started, she looked completely fucked out.

You secretly hope the image never leaves your memory.

Paige continues to tease herself, her fingers delicately dancing across the fabric of her boxers, and a quiet moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes are still closed in concentration, and you wished you could peer into her thoughts, hoping you were the object of her most intimate fantasies.

And as if she could read your thoughts, your name leaves her mouth in a broken whimper that has you wanting to jump her bones and connect that sinful mouth with yours.

She’s panting now. Her eyes open, those crystal clear baby blues pleading for more. The unspoken words spoken between the two of you bridged a formidable bond, and you know at that point that this would lead to a whole lot more than offering friendly tips on masterbation.

“Need more,” she whispers, her lithe body squirming on the bed hinting at her growing arousal.

“Okay, baby, now take the vibrator and start at your tits and run it down your stomach,” you instruct, your voice nearly trembling.

The quiet buzz fills the room before it’s cut with Paige’s whimpers as she runs the toy over her now exposed breasts. The pointed, pink peaks of her nipples make your own strain against the lace of your bra, and you shift uncomfortably in the gaming chair you are sitting in.

The toy gets dragged over her belly, going lower and lower until it grazes the waistband of her underwear, and with a frustrated sigh, she lifts her butt to rip off the offending fabric.

And now she was laid out bare in front of you, occasionally peeking at you, making sure you were still watching.

You could not look away, and your body subconsciously leans forward toward the blonde girl.

She places the buzzing toy on her clit, her back arching off the bed in response, moaning in pleasure. Her hips jump, grinding against the vibrator, desperately seeking an orgasm that had been denied from her several times over the past week.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” you whisper, enthralled with the display in front of you, and Paige opens her eyes once more at your praise, sending you a needy look and a pout.

“Keep going,” you encourage, and she adjusts the vibration, a higher pitched buzz ringing through the small room.

Paige’s skin glows with a subtle sheen of sweat and arousal that you want to meticulously lick, and her whimpers grow louder as she squirms, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” she groans, and you bite your lip, her noises effecting every fiber of your being.

And with a loud moan, your name leaves her mouth, along with a long string of expletives, as her back arches off the comforter again. Her chest heaves as the orgasm rips through her, and her eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure.

Your gaze rakes over her, taking in the gorgeous woman laid out before you, watching as she slowly comes down from the high.

“Oh my god,” Paige breathes heavily, suddenly feeling exposed and shy again.

“That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you admit, your own cheeks flushed with arousal, and Paige’s eyes trail to your peaked nipples straining against the fabric of your shirt.

“I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. And that was the best fuckin’ orgasm I have ever had,” she responds, putting her underwear back on, much to your displeasure.

“Thank you,” she adds shyly.

You shrug, moving to sit next to her on the bed, you run your hand across the flesh of her thigh, goosebumps erupting in its wake.

And before you can even make your own move, Paige connects your lips in an impassioned kiss that adds fuel to the fire that was raging in your core. The kiss was messy with unrestrained want and need, swapping unsaid words that had been brewing in both of your heads over the last three years.

The two of you had unknowingly fallen in love with the thought of each other, and now, here you were, falling right into each other.

And it wasn’t going to stop there.

The next afternoon, you are back at work, your mind continuously going back to the delicious display of Paige’s naked body. You had been on the edge all day, dying to get home to rub one out. Or four, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

Sitting in the back room in front of the fan, desperately needing a cool off, you hear the familiar jingle of the bell on the front door, alerting you that someone had entered the shop. You take a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself.

It was hard to be cordial when you were surrounded by sex toys.

You walk out of the back room, your eyes immediately trained on Paige who was now standing at the front counter with a huge smirk on her face.

Blushing you walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers, the taste of her mouth sending your body up in flames once more.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask breathily.

Paige gestures towards the package she had set on the counter with a wide smile. “Figured I’d add to the collection. Wanted to buy something for your pleasure,” she adds casually.

Your belly lurches as your eyes land on the strap on, a deep purple and six inches of thick rubber.

“Fuck me,” you breathe, feeling yourself drip with excitement at the thought.

“Oh, I plan to,” Paige grins, and she pulls you in for another kiss.

Things were just getting started.

This was a blast to write!! Also I am obsessed with shy, blushy Paige

xoxo katy

You can now read part 3 here

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers smut #ive got a wand and a rabbit

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spider-ghoul · 5 months ago

Text

Babysitting <3

Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)

In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!

this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website

~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~

At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.

"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"

"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"

"Six is when we're leaving."

"I'll be there at five fifty."

"You're a savior."

This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.

I mean, he was kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.

At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.

I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.

She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.

She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.

To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.

"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"

I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.

I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.

I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.

Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing.

As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.

I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.

I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.

It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.

I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.

I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.

I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.

Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.

"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"

"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"

He laughed and my heart fluttered.

"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning.

"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."

"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess.

"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."

"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."

"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.

And i felt my face getting hot again.

"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down.

He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him.

"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."

After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.

He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth.

I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?"

"Uh.. ten-ish?"

"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him.

"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."

"It's not far-"

"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."

I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude."

"Neither me or Sally would care."

"...."

"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"

"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything.

Percy smiled, making my heart melt.

"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again.

"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow.

"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.

"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:

"Watching me sleep?"

"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.

"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly, staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.

After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me.

"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-"

"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks."

He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that.

I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body. I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him.

I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again.

I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?"

"Well I kinda assumed..?"

"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?"

Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.

"No, I don't mind.."

I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him.

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut.

I was woken when Percy broke the silence.

"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent.

"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes.

"I really like you, you know that?"

If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered.

"... I really like you too."

I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip.

"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it."

I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer.

It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't remember.

I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said.

And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment.

The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home.

We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then.

He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.

#pjo x reader #pjo fic #pjo #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader fluff #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackon and the olympians

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akutasoda · 2 months ago

Text

the fans are always right. right?

synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up

includes - reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k

a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))

a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.

a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.

today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.

after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.

and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.

but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.

twenty minutes.

you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.

you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.

it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.

you should've expected the first one being a five star review

@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."

a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐

- "what ?"

[review has been deleted]

maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person

⭐

- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)

perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile

@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐

- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."

or alternatively,

@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."

you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-

and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.

you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.

watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.

reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”

you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”

he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud

@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐

- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"

“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”

you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”

@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"

- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"

- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."

- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"

reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.

he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”

you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.

@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐

- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."

@/abardslyre : ⭐

- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."

you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl

@/seas_ablaze : ⭐

- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"

mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”

you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.

eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.

before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”

“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.

reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.

he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”

you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again

“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”

“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”

“what?”

mr reca was never easy to work with.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr reca #reca x reader #mr reca x reader

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januaryembrs · 8 months ago

Text

SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [6]

description: the ONE where you help him grieve another woman + the ONE with the promise

length: 8.04k

warnings: maeves death. grief. Spencer is a sad bby. HOWEVER maybe perhaps some fluff? healing journey! gun, blood, usual cm warnings.

author's note. HERE YOU GO POOKIES. I hope you enjoy now I've put you all out of your misery.

previous chpt | next chpt | series masterlist

'Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry,

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?'

The one where you help him grieve another woman.

It killed her walking up those stairs every day. She knew the gift baskets were piling up, had already had a terse conversation with his neighbour about leaving ‘clutter’ in the hallway, to which she thinks she might have swung at the eighty year old woman if she didn’t think it would cause Spencer problems.

He had enough on his plate already. Maeve had died, for fuck sake.

In fact, she almost entirely blew her top when she made it to the top of the steps to see every single one of Garcia’s gift baskets had been moved, the bunches of tulips she’d brought him every other day over the past two weeks gone with little trace other than browning petals scattering his door mat. Even the cookies JJ had baked him, the card Henry had drawn for his uncle Spencer had been moved.

Bugsy stopped for a second, her head snapping to the door to the right where his neighbour, Miss Cavanaugh, had shuffled out of her apartment in her pink dressing gown, her grey, wispy curls flat against her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed.

She blinked at the younger girl through thick, bubble-like glasses, her blue eyes annoyed the minute she saw her standing there.

“You can’t just take people's things, you know, I don’t care if it got in the way of your daily walk, Miriam, those were for Spencer-” Bugsy started, her voice as calm as she could get it even though her scowl spoke for itself.

“I didn’t touch any of his crap, little lady,” Miriam raised her mottled hand, crooked fingers shushing the outrage Bug had been ready to bark at her, and the women sighed when they realised they might just have another argument like their last one, “Kid was poking around at like six in the morning taking it all in, nearly woke up my dog,”

Bugsy rolled her eyes, “God forbid,” Miriam flipped her the finger which made Bugsy’s jaw drop wide open, shuffling back into her apartment muttering to herself, her mail in her mangled hands, “Old bag,” Bug murmured to herself, but her eyes quickly locked back onto Spencer’s door.

He had been out. Well, he had been into his hallway, but it was something.

Her legs felt like jelly when she took hesitant steps towards his doorway, her knuckles gently rapping on the wood, a frog crawling into her throat that she tried clearing with a cough.

“Spencer?” Her voice was soft, melodic, and it made him wince where he sat against the other side of his entrance, his own hair a state of disarray, “It’s me,”

Of course he knew it was her. He didn’t think a day could ever go by where he wouldn’t know her by the sound of her steps alone. Like he’d grown a sixth sense for these sorts of things, like they were linked by some weird Spidey powers like in the comics she’d brought over to his apartment and begged him to read, because even though he could devour a million words a minute (her words not his) it was the art in it she loved and that forced him to slow down and enjoy the pages.

He wanted to tell her to go away, but he couldn’t find it in him to ever be so cruel, to dig himself a bigger trench of regret than he already felt. He couldn’t save Maeve, physically could never get the image of her dying from his ginormous, genius brain that held onto every detail, and on top of it, he knew he deserved none of the kindness Bugsy showered him with. He’d heard her come stand outside his door every single morning, heard her knocking with the same worried call of his name at the same time before breakfast. He heard her sigh after ten or so minutes and leave, her retreating footsteps clunking down the stairs sadly.

She was too good for him. He’d only solidified it that she was so beyond what he deserved, that he could never treat her the way she deserved to be treated, the same way he hadn’t with Maeve.

Spencer’s self loathing was a poison, slowly devouring him every time he heard her voice, felt her approach through the floorboards, when he’d seen the little notes she’d left on the books she’d dropped off outside his door. Usually they were her reviews on them, a list of pros and cons, her general musings, all things they would have chatted over a bagel if things had been normal between them. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together the way they had like clockwork since she joined the BAU. That was a lie. He could remember, of course he could, it had been four months, three weeks and five days ago, a Monday. He thinks she knocked around 10am. Something like that.

It was the day before she’d flown to London, actually. She had dropped the boys (the boys being Niko and Sergio) off to his apartment, thanked him a bunch of times for looking after them, given him five months worth of cat litter and kibbles and immediately unwrapped a to-go bag of their favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. He remembered it was close to October because she’d bought over maple buns and they only sold at the beginning of Autumn, and he’d asked if she’d be doing anything for Halloween seeing as their usual plans of a horror movie marathon were being put on pause while she was in England. She wasn’t, and she’d asked to call him instead so they could discuss their favourite trick or treating outfits they’d seen.

He’d promised her a call, only another case popped up by the time the thirty-first rolled around, and it had never happened.

Spencer hated how he was able to remember every detail of her face the day she’d left, the warmth of her hug he’d clung onto for months. He hated that day she’d surprised him and he hadn’t even thought to wrap his arms around her because he’d been so stuck feeling the overwhelming shock of seeing her. He hated that he’d made her frown like that, that she had ever doubted that he wanted to see her. But it had felt like he’d been caught cheating, why had it felt like cheating?

He knew why. He knew why seeing her when he was going out to call Maeve had felt like he was double-crossing her.

Not that it mattered anymore, he thought bitterly. Because Maeve was dead. And Bugsy had every right to hate him. But she didn’t. Because she was too good.

He hated himself more than he’d ever thought was possible.

He heard her sigh, but she didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she leave. Instead, he felt the door rattle behind his own spine as she slumped against the wood, sliding to the floor until she unknowingly leaned against him, little more than a few centimetres from his warmth.

He heard her pull out something from her bag, and the tell tale slip of paper over paper told him she’d brought a book with her, pre-empting staying longer this time. Spencer wanted to tell her not to bother, because if he got brave enough to open the door to her and see her face, smell her clothes, feel the softness of her hugs, he thinks if he told her every thought bouncing around that aching skull of his, it would all come crashing down around him, and he wouldn’t ever be able to stop telling her how sorry he was. For all of it. For letting her pull away from him when she was grieving. For letting her kiss him that night Derek brought her over, because it was obvious she wanted to forget the whole thing. For pushing her away when she came back from London. For being rude and cold when she wanted answers. For trying desperately to completely detach himself from her, which had only ever made him want to scream in frustration because it hadn’t worked anyway.

Maeve had died because of him, an innocent woman he’d seen himself falling for if they’d been given the chance had died, and he was still head over heels in terrible, stupid love with Bugsy.

They stayed there, her reading and him aching from the inside out, for about seven minutes before her phone rang. He heard her huff, letting it go to answer phone and settling back down with her novel. That is, until her dial tone sprung back to life and she half growled under her breath, assuming she pressed the answer button, and he heard her voice again.

“Hello?” She said, the slight annoyance bleeding into her words, and Spencer already knew that duty was calling by the way her book thumped to the floor and he could just picture her rubbing over her temple in frustration. “I have an appointment, Hotch, I can be there in a couple hours,” Silence, where he guessed Hotch was chiding her on her tardiness, “No, I know I’m supposed to book these things off- it’s just- it’s a contraceptive implant removal, yeah I really busted my IUD when I broke my arm, it’s not settled since,” Spencer almost smiled on instinct, almost, though he thought even if he did it would look like a bitter grimace because he’d not moved his face in over ten days. But she was a really good liar, and he’d always found that part of her charm. She huffed again, “God, you sound like Emily, yes I’m being safe- we are not having this conversation, Aaron, I’ll get there when I get there,”

With that, perhaps the only person who would ever be allowed to slam the phone down on Aaron Hotchner in a huff did, and they were left alone in silence again.

“You shouldn’t ignore their calls for my sake,” He found his voice, even if it was groggy with misuse. He felt her straighten against the wooden door, her shock palpable through the brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for just a second too long, as if she was scrambling not to say something else than what came out.

“Pot, meet kettle,” She murmured back, loud enough he could hear it, and she felt him shuffle behind the door, wanting to smack herself in the face for not feeling him there sooner.

“New case?” He asked, his eyes heavy, his pyjamas days old. He knew he needed to shower, but the minute he’d walked into his apartment everything had felt pointless.

“Yup.” She breathed in, her shoes brushing against his welcome mat with a scratch as she pulled her knees up to her chest, “Although I think Hotch will stick to Penelope making the calls after today,”

Something between a scoff and a sigh came from his throat, something she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“What is it?” He replied, and she remained quiet for a second, picking the skin around her nails.

“I’ll tell you if you open the door,” She bartered, wondering for a second if she’d gone too far and had pushed him back into the hole she was coaxing him out of.

“Blackmail,” Spencer said, all emotion gone from his voice, and Bugsy winced, “A little on the nose for someone who’s grieving,”

But she could sense it. The way his syllable raised on the last word, that he was being cynical, not cruel like she’d worried.

“Think of it as a trade deal,” She humoured him, though she kept her voice soft so he knew she meant no harm, just to cheer him up if it was even possible, “You get your answer, and I get to give you this incredibly boring book that I know you can devour in a half hour and give me the summarised version,”

He smiled. Weakly, and only for a brief few seconds, because if there was anything that warmed him up from the cold, dark, nothingness place he’d found himself in it was her.

He wished he could dislike the fact she did it so easily, wish he could dislike how simple it was to like her, to feel himself wanting her even in that nothingness place he was crawling through as a lone ranger. He wanted to pull her into him tightly, wanted to let her fuss over him, to apologise until his voice ran even more hoarse, but he couldn’t. He feared if he touched her, she’d be marked for death right then and then; that he’d taint her somehow. And that he could never do.

Yet, he bent to her will. He stood up, prompting her to do the same, leaving his door on the latch as he pulled it open a crack, enough for her to jimmy the book through, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy.

He had read Tolstoy before, of course he had. War and Peace was one of the first books he ever owned in Russian, ironically enough one that he’d read only a few days before they’d driven to Baltimore and he’d met Bugsy for the first time. Yet it was this one she’d given him of all of Tolstoy’s works; the one where the protagonist goes on a journey of acceptance that he’s dying with no explanation as to why.

He thought she might just be the only person who knew how to crawl into the mess of his brain and find something familiar in there. Because this was the same book he’d read when Emily had died.

He would never tell her he already owned it, however. Nor would he call her out for the fact she most certainly didn’t find it boring considering she was so far into it with annotations already scribbled in the margins. He just took it with a lump in his throat, his eyes burning with the idea she was so incredibly her that it felt like he had no option but to drown in it.

“Body’s been found in San Francisco,” She said gently, and he knew she wished he would open the door fully so she could at least see him. Yet he kept the door on the latch. Because if there wasn’t a barrier between them, he wasn’t sure how else he would keep it all in, “You get to know more when you finish the book,”

He sighed, holding the book tight to his chest, and they stood there for a second, the air turning stifling as they both held back a million words behind brave faces, “Will you be gone long?”

“No, only a few days, I hope,” She replied, zipping her bag up and slinging it on her back judging by the sounds coming from her side of the door. She hovered, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but wanting to stay here on his welcome mat because this was the closest they'd been physically and otherwise in months.

“Be safe,” He murmured, and her hand shot through the gap in the doorway, her pinky finger raised to the heavens.

“Promise,” Bugsy said, her heart jack hammering against her ribcage when a long, warm finger wrapped around hers, and they squeezed them together. It was just a little touch, but it was a start. She wished he would open the door so she could beg him to talk to her, even if it meant crawling to her knees, she wasn’t above it whatsoever.

Reluctantly, she let him go, though she noted the way he had held onto her until she did so.

“I have to go,” She said sadly, drawing her hand to her chest like she’d received a Midas touch, and her hand was suddenly valuable after gracing his own.

Her skin felt electric, her breaths felt laboured. She wanted more, but she couldn’t have it.

And with that, it took every ounce of resolve to turn on her heels and head back down to her car.

–

Bugsy stared at the artwork with a grimace, picking hard at her cuticles because the metallic smell was making her stomach turn. Their UnSub had taken to painting with his victims’ blood, canvasses upon canvasses of leeched ichor brushed out to make out an image of the bodies.

Her nose scrunched when another wave of hot, iron wafted up her nose, and she thought about asking Hotch if she could step outside for a moment, knowing he likely wouldn’t question her perhaps ever again after their little phone call.

“What other reasons would he have for separating plasma from the blood?” Hotch asked, and her brow furrowed, her mouth opening to speak before another voice cut her off.

“It’s a habit,”

She swore she gave herself whiplash with how fast her head snapped to the side. She would know his voice anywhere. It sounded lost and desolate, yes, but her eyes swirled with relief when she saw him standing there, looking skittish and tired but alive.

“Reid,” Morgan breathed, the same level of surprise she felt as JJ darted towards him, her arms wrapping around his middle before he could protest.

“Spence,” She said, and they hugged one another tightly, his eyes following over Jennifer’s shoulder to where Bugsy seemed to watch him unsurely, like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, how to make it better, how to fix it. A girl who had always been so sure of herself now reduced to pining from afar for answers.

“I didn’t expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?” Hotch asked, an almost identical look of hesitance on his face as Bugsy had on hers, and it was no wonder half of the department said they were two sides of the same coin.

“No but I think I figured something out,” He breathed, moving out of JJ’s embrace towards the boards where the victim profiles were, and he began speaking in that slow, cold tone he’d taken on.

Spencer, to no one's surprise, was able to all but fit their disjointed puzzle pieces together in the space of an hour's flight, and with just a few pointers in Garcia’s direction, they’d got their UnSub.

“And bingo was his name-o, actually his name is Bryan Hughes, he is an AB positive haemophiliac who works as a janitor at the Bay Area Museum of Art. And before you ask, yes his address has been sent to your phones.” Penelope rushed, pinging the information to their phones just as fast as it had appeared on her screen.

“You’re the best baby girl,” Morgan said into the speaker, hanging up the phone as the team stood from their place at the desk, Hotch assigning them tasks as everyone strapped on their kevlars and guns.

She held back for a moment, her eyes assessing him like man approaching a wounded wolf.

“I’m okay-” He was about to say, because he knew what she was going to ask before she thought to do it, except she simply nodded at him, turning on her heel to follow the others, despite him expecting something more Bugsy-like.

It wasn’t like her to leave him without some final word, some final stand, and he was right. Because no sooner had she gotten all of three paces, she whirled back around, heading back towards him with a timid expression, and she all but launched herself into his arms.

He held her tight, the warmth of her body making his eyes well up, because if there was anything that could have made him crack his resolve, it was her touch alone.

She carded her fingrs through his hair, tucking her face into his neck and breathing in deeply.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” She murmured, stopping herself from saying anymore as she released him, well aware of the fact he had tried squeezing her tighter before she’d had to let him go, like he hadn’t wanted her to go. But neither did she.

“Stay safe,” He said on instinct, and she nodded, her eyes trailing over his empty eyes and sallow skin.

She wanted to kiss away every trace of sadness there, but she couldn’t. Wanted to wrap him into a hug so tight she might just stop breathing, but it would have been worth it. Wanted to tuck him into bed and stroke his hair and feed him tea and chocolate and make sure he was kept well, because she’d do anything to make him better.

But she couldn’t. They had a case.

It took every scrap of resolve to let go of Spencer Reid, sheepish and mourning, and leave him in that room alone.

–

She sighed, scrubbing at the back of her hand with the shitty aeroplane soap they had on the jet, the tiny basin doing nothing to help the fact she was all but peeling off the top layer of her epidermis.

Catching Bryan had been messy; he had come at her with a scalpel, she had shot, his blood had sprayed over her arms, soaking right through. Spencer had all but gone white when she’d gotten to the runway, hoping to make it back to Quantico by midnight.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He fretted, despite the fact it was the closest he'd come in weeks to an emotion that wasn't sadness, and he stood little more than a few centimetres away, his fingers twined together, wanting to check her over himself.

She waved him off, “It’s not mine. I’m going to wash up on the plane, don’t worry,” She replied, her expression exhausted, twitching on the spot to stop herself pushing his hair behind his ear. She knew he’d washed it because it looked particularly fluffy, the way it always did when he hadn’t bothered to style it before he left the house, “Are you okay?”

He nodded wordlessly, and took her mini suitcase from her side, wheeling it along the tarmac for her, his face a worried scowl as they boarded the jet.

She thanked him as she stepped past him putting it in the overhead luggage, heading straight for the toilets to wash up, Morgan and JJ ducking out of the way when they saw Carrie 2.0 passing by them.

It wasn’t until they were already in the air did she emerge, her change of clothes on her skin that had been rubbed raw, her uniform in a biohazard bag that she swiftly dumped at the back of the jet to keep it out of sight. She threw herself down on the nearest seat, her entire body aching from the long few days, but she didn’t miss the hazel eyes that bore into the side of her head to her right.

She turned to meet their gaze, even though she already knew who it was before she’d even looked. Spencer looked like he was caught between about five different sentences to start with, his eyes trailing down her arms and to her hands that were now squeaky clean.

“You sure you’re okay?” He murmured, and she flipped her palms over for him to see for himself. No cuts. No abrasions. Except her usually marred cuticles she’d been picking at all day.

“Pinkie promised, didn’t I?” She teased, but no humour met his face. He just looked back at her, like he didn’t quite believe her still, like she was a ghost where his best friend should be sat, or a trick of the light. She turned her knees towards him, her sleepy eyes buttery and genuine, as if she was trying to make herself as relaxed as possible, just so he would stop worrying, “Spencer, I’m fine. Didn’t even knick me,”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking down to his satchel bag where he played with the buckle, the brown leather cold in between his fingers, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird and distant and ignoring you- I just…”

“Spencer,” She tried to interject with a honeyed voice, but he shook his head, a crease forming between his brows when he heard her say his name like that.

“I just worry I’m letting everyone down, but when I saw you covered in blood-” He gulped, willing his eyes not to burn up again with unshed tears.

“Spence, it’s okay,” She cooed, shuffling closer to him in her seat, her hand migrating to his knee, because she didn’t know if he’d want to touch her after she’d had someone else's blood all over her hand. She liked her chances, yet the last thing she wanted was to push him. “No one’s expecting you to go back to normal, I just want to know you’re safe. I owe you as much, I mean you looked after me when Emily was gone,”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bug,” He shook his head again, his brows furrowing and she was quick to correct herself, “Besides, I loved living with you,” He rested his palm over her hand and gave her what he hoped looked like a small smile.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Spence,” She said, flipping her hand over to squeeze his fingers gently, “Did you not think I loved living with you too? I just want to take care of you for me,”

He looked at her, her eyes hopeful as she roved over his clean clothes, his freshly washed hair, his satchel he’d kept tight in his lap, as if checking him over for bruises despite the fact he hadn’t been in the field. The crushing weight over his chest like a fallen log seemed to shift, and with it, her hand soothed the wound, her smile dried his eyes, her warmth engulfed his very core in a blanket.

Spencer knew he was going to be okay if it was him and her. He knew the world was livable again if she was fighting in his corner. But then, when hadn’t she been?

Sensing his ease in attitude, or perhaps she just knew his eyes so well to notice the way they seemed to carry less burden as soon as she’d spoken, she leaned back in her seat, “Besides, the boys miss you. They said you gave them more treats than I do and Niko appreciated you brushing his fur for him,”

He smiled over at her bashfully, his head dropping down to lean on her shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his head.

“Well, if the boys miss me, I guess I have no choice,” He murmured, his eyes heavy the second he rested against her, like she’d sprayed a sedative over him, and he couldn’t help think that her new perfume wasn’t nearly as them as her old one had been. Not that he disliked this one, just that the other one reminded him of morning breakfasts, and movie marathons, and nights when they would bake apple cake at twelve in the morning because she made it how he liked it to a tea.

She chuckled, and it sounded like a hum in his ear, as he curled up to her side, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land and I’ll drive us home,”

And it didn’t take much for him to do so, even if something had been right on the tip of his tongue; his apartment had only felt like home when she said it like that.

+1. The one with the promise.

He’d had that dream again.

It had been four months since Maeve died, but he’s had that dream again.

He’d start out in a restaurant, the walls lined top to toe with books, the chandelier the perfect amount of dust that it had character but not tackiness. A waiter would bring him over a menu and an iced tea, his favourite. He’d go to look up to ask why he’d been sat at a restaurant he had no recollection of getting to, and he’d see her staring back at him.

Maeve. Looking healthy and happy, like he hadn’t watched her brains sprayed across that warehouse floor.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” She would say, a glass of some kind of white wine swirling in her hand, her teeth straight and white and pretty when she smiled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you,” He’d say, though he couldn’t feel his mouth moving, he just knew it had come from him. “Where are we?”

“You promised me a date, so this is it,” Maeve said, a glint in her blue eyes, “First and the last. Let’s make it count,”

His heart would give a jump then, because he’d remember this was the only time he’d ever get to see her. He’d remember that she was dead, that he had never seen her in person like this until the day she’d died.

He’d open his mouth to apologise, to beg for an explanation or forgiveness, whichever one he thought was more pressing, and then the door would swing open.

And Bugsy would walk in.

Donned in the same bluebell dress she’d worn at JJ’s wedding, only her arm wasn’t broken. And she’d walk right up to him, that smile on her face that said she was excited to see him.

And Maeve would look at her, and instead of scowling or sneering like a woman soaking in jealousy would, they would look at one another and grin like they’d known each other decades.

“Car’s out front when you guys are done,” Bugsy would chirp, her eyes warm when she looked down at the dead woman, satiated in genuine happiness to see her, “Don’t keep him too long,”

“One dance, Agent Prentiss, and he’s all yours,” Maeve would reply with a giggle, her brunette locks falling like a waterfall over her shoulder when she’d stand, offering a hand to him to sweep him onto the dancefloor, “You coming, Spencer?”

And his eyes would snap open, returning him back to the horrible reality of his darkened bedroom, his apartment silent other than the sound of Bugsy tossing in the spare room, the way she did when she got too warm in her sleep, and he threw his legs out of bed to go get her some cold water.

But the dream never left him. The same one he’d had for months, since she’d moved in with him to take care of him, make sure he was eating and keeping as happy as he could be.

The sight of her in that blue dress, waiting for him to finish his dance haunted him almost as much as Maeve did.

–

“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been sleeping?” She asked, cornering him in the kitchen once they’d both dropped their go bags in their room and he’d jumped for the kettle to make them both coffee.

He blanked, the mug nearly slipping from his grasp as he plonked it down on the counter in front of her, “Why would you think-”

“Spencer,” She said as a warning, her lip quirking between her teeth as she gnawed at it worriedly.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” He confessed too quickly, scratching the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous, “I know you worry about me, especially right now, and when you worry, you don’t sleep, and I just thought what’s the point in both of us running on nothing,”

She huffed, and he shuffled around the island to meet her where she stood by the bar stools, looking like she wanted to be cross with him but she couldn’t find it in herself.

“You should have told me, I could have stroked your back the way you liked, or, I don’t know,” She shrugged, looking anywhere but his guilty looking hues, “Smuggled night nurse in your tea,”

“Drugs. Cause that’s way better than my thing,” He teased, and she snickered, and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t really mad at him. He hated lying to her, he’d just wanted to keep his odd dream to himself until he could make sense of it, “Did Dave tell you anything else?”

She shook her head, and he knew she was telling the truth because she seemed to immediately be the one assessing him for anything else she should have been told much sooner.

“Is your head okay?” She asked, putting a gentle hand to his forehead to check for migraine heat, “I know they get worse when you don’t sleep-”

“My head’s fine, Bug,” Spencer replied, grabbing her hand with his long fingertips, pulling them from his face to squeeze at her side with a warming smile, “Promise. I’ll tell you if it gets bad,”

She watched him sceptically for a moment before she leaned over to grab her coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing in delight when it tasted perfect, “I love your memory, did I ever tell you that?”

He chuckled, dodging a rogue Niko that bobbed between his feet because it was almost dinner time for the two miscreants, moving back over to the sink to tidy the granules of sugar he’d spilled, “Many times. But I’d remember your coffee even if I had a normal brain,”

“Humble as always,” She remarked, smiling devilishly when he shot her a glare over his shoulder. It was then that Sergio jumped up onto the counter, the way Spencer had tried scolding him for a million times because of the germs, only for the onyx black cat to flick his tail in his face as if to flip him a middle finger, yowling in the man’s face for his usual dinner of kibble and water.

“Alright, alright,” Spencer sighed, reaching into the cabinet to grab their food, two fluffy bodies immediately weaving in between his long legs with mews and head bumps, because those boys knew how to wrap him around their little finger, “You ought to start being nice to me, boys. One day it’ll probably just be me and you guys, and then you can’t just bat your tails at me like you do your mom-”

“I know I’m turning twenty eight but I still got a few years left kicking, Spence,” Bugsy protested, her brows furrowing when she heard his murmurs, which she hadn’t found entirely odd since he always spoke to the boys when he fed them, except this time it had made her draw back in confusion, “Where am I in this hypothetical bachelor pad you got going on?”

“You’ll be with whatever guy is lucky enough to talk his way into dating you, maybe engaged, maybe married,” He said like it was nothing, despite the fact he’d been thinking about that exact scenario for months. Since Penelope had mentioned just how good British men were in bed, in fact. Because he felt both sick and curious as to whatever it had been that had come out of her mouth in return, “And I’ll look after the boys while the two of you move on, because you’ll feel sorry for taking my only friends away from me when you leave, and I’ll be forced to become a lonely, old cat man,”

“That’s not true,” She said, her face warming when he chuckled cynically, running a hand through his hair, “Spence, you can’t actually believe that?”

“Yes it is, Bugsy, you don’t need to try and make me feel better,” He brushed her off, wiping his knuckles over heavy eyelids, “You and I both like facts, right? It’s a quantifiable fact that zero women except Maeve have ever fallen in love with me in thirty years. Even if we call it twelve years to remove the factor of less meaningful relationships developing before adulthood, that means I’ll be forty two by the time I next get a shot, at which point I’ll be too old and washed up for anyone to find me attractive. Let’s face it, no one is ever going to love me like that again,”

“That’s not true,” She repeated, her chest hammering, her face scrunched into a scowl, “You’re wrong. Quantifiably wrong.”

“You have no data to back that statement up, Bug,” He replied with a dark snicker, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the idea of her engaged to some other bonehead that had made him so crass, “Can’t make a conclusion without drawing on your evidence, to which you have none,”

“Yes, I do, asshole. I know for a fact that someone is in love with you,” She snapped, and it was like a bolt of lightning had cut through their conversation, blowing up in her face, her entire body freezing the second the words had left her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes panicked, and all teasing had dropped out of his expression, leaving something confused, “Bug-”

“I don’t know why I said that,” She cut him off, jumping into action and avoiding his burning gaze. But he was fast, and he was pushing off the counter just as quickly as her.

“Bugsy, what do you mean? I don’t understand,” He persisted, darting only a pace behind her when she moved towards the living room to grab her cardigan off the back of the sofa.

She shook her head, “Ignore that, it doesn’t matter,”

“No, what did you mean by that?” Spencer asked, his voice tense because he had never seen her cower away from him like that, her body moving entirely into a state of flight. She shook her head, snatching the white fabric in her fingers and spinning on her heel to head for the doorway. But there he was, blocking her escape, his impossibly tall body stopping her right in her tracks, and she didn’t need to look up to know he had that special Spencer brand of Puppy Eyes.

“I’m going to the store-”

“Bugsy,”

“It doesn’t matter, Spence, just leave it,” She said shakily, trying to duck around him only for him to dodge to the left and stop her advance, “Spence, leave it, please,”

“What did you mean? Just tell me,” He begged, his cadence wary, the sound of it flushing her entire chest with a heat she’d never known. She swore she was going into cardiac arrest, her heartbeat was in her throat, and it made it difficult to swallow, let alone push him away, “Do you know something?”

Her breaths were deep, begging her chest to behave as it damn near spun her vision into dizziness. He was just a man. He was just a boy. How could he have so much control over her entire body when he had barely even touched her? When he had just asked her one tiny little question?

It was unethical, how her stomach rippled with butterflies the second she dared to look at his hazel eyes, round and intense where they never left her face. It should have been illegal for begging to look so good on him.

She took a sigh, shaking her head and looking back to his mismatched socks, chuckling bitterly, and putting her head in her hands. She couldn’t escape from this, her only defence mechanism was to curl into herself like an armadillo against a predator, her attacker being the god's honest truth that he was owed years ago.

“I really,” She cleared her throat, her eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, “I really messed things up with you,”

“What?” Spencer’s hot hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could hear her every word clearly, “I thought we were okay now, I thought we were friends again,”

She laughed emptily, her bottom lip quivering, her hands shaking under his touch. He was so warm, he always had been, but it felt as if he was everywhere when he was only really touching the skin of her pulsepoint. She hoped he couldn’t feel just how it beat for him, beat so loud and fast all for him.

“That’s the problem,” She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting his as she gave an unsure breath, gulping loudly. It was like he stared right at her soul, and pleaded it to speak to him. And she had never been able to say no to him, not when he looked like that, “When I came back from London, I came back to tell you that…”

She breathed again, because she felt like she was holding it while she confessed, she knew it was no wonder she felt so dizzy, but she couldn’t look away from him, where his face was morphing into realisation.

“I came to tell you that.. I-I’m in love with you, Spencer,” A single tear dribbled down her cheek, but he let go of her hands quickly to catch it, his lips pressing together in a silenced word, most like ‘oh’. His brows quirked above his nose, his eyes turning into devastation as soon as she’d said it. But it was out there now, so there was no use in trying to keep it in anymore. “I have been, for a while I think, and I wanted to tell you because I thought you might-might-” She gulped, the finger that had brushed the first tear stroking down until it rested under her jaw, the feeling of it damn near making her whine, “I don’t know, I just hoped you would feel anything back- but you don’t have to say anything, I know you’re hurting and so I just kept it in, but every time I see you I feel like I’m choking and I don’t know how to make it stop-”

“Tell me you’re lying,” Spencer said with a biting tone, his eyes honey comb gold and glistening when he looked at her. It couldn’t be true. He never got this lucky. It couldn’t be, he refused-

She shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading and wet, “Never, Spencer. I would never lie to you. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you- I know you’re hurting, I know you’re grieving and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“I love you too,” He whispered, and it was like her words came to fruition as her voice was robbed, the air leaving her lungs. Her jaw dropped, her wet eyes boring into his chest, his hands skirting up to hold her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her tear ladened skin, “God, Bug, I’ve loved you for so long, I thought you didn’t want anything like that after that kiss-”

Her expression dropped, eyebrows scrunching together, “What kiss?”

He blanked, for once speechless. Only the kiss he’d torn himself to pieces over for weeks and weeks. “The night- that Derek brought you over when you’d had…” He trailed off, wanting to throttle himself for how dumb he’d been in retrospect, “When you’d had the Molly,”

Her hand slapped over her mouth, his own hands flying to palm at his eyes, because how could he be so incredibly stupid. Ecstasy was a memory suppressant. He knew, he knew better than most, that taking recreational drugs like that robbed you of even the most life shattering moments.

She didn’t remember. How could she? She was so out of it she could barely walk without stumbling over a flat surface. And instead of asking her, instead of simply growing a pair and seeing what she remembered, he’d gotten a girlfriend.

This was all wrong. This was so wrong. The guilt from Maeve dying was a wound that had cut him deep, and yet having Bugsy in his arms so placid and warm and adoring was a salve he had never dreamed would feel so numbing.

“We kissed?” She asked, her eyes blazing with embarrassment, her hand running through her hair in shock horror, “I don’t- how don’t I remember that- that’s all I dreamed of for months-”

“Technically you kissed me,” He explained, despite the fact his cheeks had set on fire hearing her confess even the smallest bit more to him. She loved him. She was in love with him. She had been for months, she said. She loved him. “It would have been wrong if I did anything even if it was all I’d thought of too. And I just thought, because you never mentioned it, that you didn’t want to remember it at all,”

He felt like he’d taken some sort of truth serum, like he should shut himself up any second now because he was spilling his longest kept secret to the one person who should have never been privy to it. But it was okay if she knew. Because she loved him.

She looked at him, and he swore he’d never seen eyes so beautiful, but then he’d always loved her eyes. But the way they looked at him, as if he’d had a bag pulled from over his head, or his glasses had been given the correct prescription, because it was like he suddenly saw just how adoring she looked when she watched him like that.

And despite herself, she laughed.

It was girlish, and carefree, and happy. So, so happy. And he started laughing too. She fell into his chest, her face hot with embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her giggling into his shirt, shaking her head.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” She said, and it was mumbled, and the sound of it made him smile wider.

“I’m a stupid, stupid man. I’m so sorry, Bug,” He replied, his large hand stroking down the back of her hair though a sour taste crawled up his throat.

He still owed Maeve that dance. Just as he’d told Rossi. Who had told Bugsy, because he knew she had some magic way of getting her way with everyone.

She pulled away, her eyes young and so incredibly pretty when she smiled at him like that. Sensing his hesitation, she tried to pull away from his embrace, worried like it was second nature to her by now that she’d overstepped. Only he didn’t let her. He kept his hand at the back of her head, one under her arm to pin her close to his body, because he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let her go twice.

“You said you tried to tell me when you got back from London?” He said softly, and she nodded, like her confession had taken everything out of her, “But then when you got here… I was with Maeve,”

She swallowed, worried where he was going, and nodded again wordlessly.

He chewed the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath for courage, “I’m still- I feel terrible if-”

“You can still grieve, Spencer,” She cut him off, knowing what he was struggling to say, and his eyes crawled back up to meet her gaze, “It’s not heinous to need time to think, I know it’s a lot to ask, I never expected you to-”

He cut her off with a kiss to the apple of her cheek, warm and angelic, the feeling of it forcing her mouth shut, because she worried she might just whimper in delight if she didn’t. Her hand flew up to his forearm that moved around to cup neatly under her ear, his fingers weaving into her hair as he kissed again down near her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut. And when she thought it was done, when she thought her luck was spent, he kissed her again, on the cusp of her lips, a ghost breath slipping from a parted mouth, because she thought she might have just died and gone to heaven.

“Bugsy, I love you,” Spencer said, and her heart felt full, so full her eyes welled up all over again because it was everything she had ever wanted, “I just need a little time,”

Her eyelids flicked open, and the bliss written over her face took a knock, her head reeling back like he’d burned her. But, as before, he didn’t let her go, He refused to let her run away again. Not when he had everything he wanted, “That’s not a ‘no’. It’s just a very stupid man who has loved you for longer than you’d know hoping on everything that you’ll be willing to give me a month or two. I want to do this right, you deserve to have this done right, and I want to give you only the best version of myself,”

Spencer’s heart pounded against his slender ribcage as he waited for her response, because he knew he was pushing his luck. But he’d meant every word of it, and he figured if he had any chance at being the guy he’d always told himself she needed, he’d need to be honest with her. They’d need to be honest with each other.

But she smiled at him, sweet and besotted beneath his palm, and he didn’t know why he’d ever doubted her.

“I waited six years, what’s a few months on top of that?” She smirked, her face glowing when he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, and he felt how hot her blood ran under his touch. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his did the same.

“I promise. Just a few more months, bug,”

And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer meant it. He wouldn’t let her go ever again.

TAGLIST:

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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h-ngm-nssluttt · 2 months ago

Text

Deployment Birth

Jake Seresin One Shot

Pov: jake misses the birth of your baby while on deployment but the Dagger Squad makes sure they help you along the way.

The old saying goes ‘When you know you know’ and that was the truth for Jake Seresin. The moment he met Hazel it’s like the stars in his universe aligned as sappy as that sounds, but there was just something about her that made him simply… know.

When Hazel moved to North Island the last thing on her mind was finding someone to be in a relationship with but the universe on that one fateful night at the hard deck when she met up with her childhood friend Natasha Trace had other plans. Hazel wasn’t sure if it was the Southern drawl or the million dollar smile or maybe even the captivatingly gorgeous green eyes that stared deeply into hers like she was the only one in the room even though they were surrounded by the many patrons of the Hard Deck on a Saturday night, but Jake Seresin stole her heart that night whether she realized it right away or not.

The usual cocky, egotistical, womanizer Aviator everyone was used to had changed faster than they could blink. Cocky attitude was replaced with sweet nothings and compliments. Flowers on a random Tuesday just because and coffee runs on his lunch just so he could see you for 10 minutes. Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep.

They moved in together after dating for 9 months. She brought warmth and life to Jake's boring beige apartment which he loved. He loved the throw pillows that now adorned his couch, the scented candles that seemed to be in each room. The pictures that now hung on the walls, he loved it all. The engagement followed suit after a year and a half of dating and the wedding wasn’t too far behind. It felt like a whirlwind romance to everyone around them but they just simply knew. They were each other’s person, made for each other by the gods above so why waste anytime when you just simply know.

Hazel was not used to having a partner that actually put in effort. When they say “if he wanted to he would” Jake always wanted to. The smallest of things like doing the dishes, getting her shower ready to just the right temperature that he knew she liked. Having a glass of wine and her book ready for her on the coffee table after a long day of work so she could relax while he sat on the couch with her watching a muted tv with sports recaps on it just to spend time with her. He wanted it all. At first it scared her, but once she realized that Jake wasn’t like her past relationships she was in deep too.

2.5 years in a new journey was about to begin.

She stood in the bathroom staring at the test on the counter. 2 dark pink lines staring right back at her. She wasn’t convinced at first but the 5 tests she took told her otherwise, all showing the same result. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. She was growing something half Jake and Half her. She honestly couldn’t believe it. They weren’t actively trying but they decided that if it happened then so be it, and honestly, she couldn’t believe it happened.

The next week was spent going to the doctor’s office just to confirm that she was 100% pregnant (which she was). 5 weeks to be exact. Once she realized it was without a doubt positive she began trying to come up with a creative way to tell Jake.

She stood over the box on the kitchen island making sure it was perfect one more time before gently closing the lid just as she heard the door of Jake's truck close from outside their apartment. Hazel acted like she was busy tidying up the kitchen counter when she heard his boots thud across the hardwood floor as a hand wrapped around her waist from behind and a gentle kiss was placed to the top of her head.

“Hey sweetheart. How was your day?” I smiled as I turned around and faced Jake as I gently wrapped my arms around his neck

“It was good. Busy. How about you?” Jakes smile widened as he looked down at me

“Long and tiring. Was flying from the moment I got on base till it was time to leave”

“Sounds like it’s going to be relaxing on the couch and takeout kind of night?” He smiles as he leans down and places a soft kiss to my lips

“its like you read my mind sweetheart”

I smile as he removes his arm from around my waist and walks across the kitchen. I admire how good he looks in his khaki uniform. He always looks so good. It almost has to be a sin for someone to look that good. He stops at the sight of the box on the kitchen island

“What's this?”

“Just a little something for you” I smile as he looks at me almost confused as he looks back down at the box

“I’m not forgetting something am i?”

“no..go ahead and open it up”

I smile as I watch him look between the box and myself a few more times before slowly grabbing the lid and opening the box as I lean against the kitchen island, my eyes never leaving his face as he looks at the contents of the box. His hands grip the sides of the box as he intently stares at the small pair of aviator sunglasses and a small onesie that says “daddy’s wingman” with a jet underneath it. He quickly looks up at me and back down at the contents of the box multiple times before looking at me.

“are… are you. you’re”

I smile widely as I look at him nodding my head yes as he tries to form a complete sentence. Before I could even get a word out he closes the distance between us as he rounds the corner of the island and cradles my face in his hands as he stares into my eyes and quietly whispers

“we’re having a baby?”

“were having a baby” He leans down and places a soft but passionate kiss to my lips, resting his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes

“I can’t believe this…. Were… were going to have a baby…”

I smile as I gently place my hands on his shoulders as he moves his hands to my waist as we stand there in the kitchen together. The smile never leaves his face as he slowly kneels down in front of me and rests his forehead against my stomach as he quietly whispers something I can’t fully make out to my stomach. Excitement settling between the two of us as the realization that our greatest adventure together was about to begin in a short 9 months.

They say pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time in a couple’s life… and I suppose that’s true if your husband is not in the military. Nothing can ruin the happiness of a pregnancy like the word ‘deployment’… a 6-month deployment at that. 6 months which happens to be the amount of time that I have left in my pregnancy. 6 months that will be cutting it close to the due date of our baby, if the baby comes on time that is. 6 months of experiencing everything alone. 6 months of sending updates and pictures through letters as often as we can send them. 6 months and the chance that Jake will miss the birth of our baby…

Jake, Payback and Fanboy got the orders a week ago and they leave in 2 days. Those two days were spent barely leaving our bed. Jake's hand never leaves my stomach, caressing the very small baby bump that has formed. Two days of him talking to our baby telling them that they had to wait for him to come home before coming into the world.

“Everyone says that the first baby comes late as long as everything goes well”

I lay there running my fingers through jakes hair as he rests his forehead against my bare stomach running his thumb against the small bump

“I really hope they are right… I can’t miss this.. I just..” he sighs as he places a kiss to my stomach

“I just really need you to wait for daddy to get home… just hang on tight in there for me please”

“We will do our best honey”

The send off was a crying fest. Natasha had to drive me home and ended up spending the night to make sure I was okay. The Dagger squad tried to make this deployment as easy as possible on me as they could. Every Monday Bob came over for dinner. On Tuesdays Bradley and I went grocery shopping together to ensure I didn’t have to lift anything on my own. Wednesdays Natasha and I went to a yoga class. Thursdays Javi came over and mowed the lawn and helped with anything I needed done, and on Friday’s we all went out for dinner and ended the night at the Hard Deck together where I would sit and sip on water while we all went on with our lives. Well they went on with their lives like normal. I felt like I was on autopilot going through the motions each day.

Penny went with me to all of my dr. appointments and has been giving me some parenting advice here and there from when she had Amelia. Everyone made sure I wasn’t alone even though I felt like I was a majority of the time. I made sure to take video’s of our appointments so he can see them when he returns home. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat, the black and white screen showing our little baby moving around.

Every Monday I wrote Jake a new letter with a picture to show how much my belly was growing. With each letter I felt like my heart broke more and more. Each letter included something new about my pregnancy, like how I went to the appointment to find out the gender but refused to know what the baby was until Jake was home. Another one was about how I felt that baby kick for the first time. Another was how hard it was starting to get comfortable because my stomach was so big I could only fit in Jake's shirts anymore and waddle around like a penguin.

Another letter was simply just a list of names for either gender that we liked, eventually deciding on a name for either or that we felt would fit perfectly for our baby.

Each letter was met with a response about how he wishes he was there to experience everything with me. How guilty he feels that he is missing everything and the dreaded line of ‘I still don’t have an exact date as to when I will be home’ that one gets me every time and usually brings me to tears as it feels like the closer and closer I get to our due date that the reality of me having to do this alone is become more and more real as each day passes. And being 4 weeks away from our due date really made that fear a reality.

Each day this week I texted everyone the same excuse ‘you won’t need to come over today. I’m not feeling well. Super tired’. In reality I laid in our bed snuggled into one of jakes sweatshirts clutching onto his pillow as I laid their and slept and cried all week long. Friday night rolled around and I was laying in bed watching some crappy reality show when I heard footsteps and saw Bob, Natasha, Bradley and Javi standing in my hallway. Natasha walked into the room and knelt down by the side of my bed as I looked at her with my tired and red rimmed eyes

“We pieced it all together when we got to dinner tonight. You aren’t sick”

“I mean I am sick.. I’m sick of this deployment…” and that’s all it took before the tears started flowing again as Natasha tried to console me.

“I’m so scared… Each day passes and it becomes more and more real that…. That he’s not going to be here… I’m going to be doing this alone… I can’t do this alone.. I .. he … I can’t”

After crying for a solid hour, I fell asleep as Natasha sat on the bed with me trying to calm me down. Bob, Bradly and Javi cleaned up the apartment and went to the store to ensure I had enough food in the apartment for next 2 weeks and picked up dinner from my favorite Chinese place to try and cheer me up.

We spent the rest of Friday night all crowded in Jake and I’s bedroom. Natasha and Bradley crammed onto the bed with me while Javi and Bob settled onto the floor by the bed. If it wasn’t for this group of friends right here I honestly don’t think I would have made it through this.

The week of the baby’s due date approached fast and Natasha refused to let me be alone. She took up residency on the couch in case I needed anything or god forbid the baby decided to come. This week felt agonizingly slow. Like my body knew it needed to hold on but unfortunately it had other plans. 3 days before our due date I was standing in the kitchen making myself breakfast when I felt it… my water broke. I stood there with wide eyes and I stared at Natasha who was sitting at the kitchen island. It didn’t take long for the tears to cascade down my cheeks as I realized this was it… I silently cursed my body for not holding on longer to even give the slightest chance that Jake could have made it home in time.

72 hours of intense labor later and the Dagger squad crammed into a tiny hospital room, Sonny Amelia Seresin made her appearance and my god did she look just like her daddy, green eyes and all. After a brief hospital stay we made it home and two weeks later we got the call that Jake would be coming home.

The Dagger squad and I made our way to the dock to welcome Jake, Reuben and Jay home. Sonny was curled up against my chest as I stood there frantically searching through the sea of people just trying to catch a glimpse of that familiar head of sandy blonde hair and green eyes. Natasha placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed and as soon as I followed the direction her finger was pointing I saw him. The instant our eyes met it felt like the first night we met all over again. It was like we were the only two there even though there were hundreds of people there. His eyes drifted to the tiny bundle curled up against my chest and I could see the tears from here. It’s like the world was moving in slow motion as he made his way to us. The second he made it to us one hand was placed on my waist the other on my cheek as he leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips as his tears fell on to my cheeks. I love you whispered between the two of us before he pulled back and gently removed his hand from my cheek and gently ran a finger over his daughters’ tiny cheek and ran his hand gently over her tiny tuft of sandy blonde hair on her head. The second she was in his arms he placed a small kiss to her forehead as she snuggled into his chest and greeted his daughter for the first time with tears in his eyes.

“Hi my Sonny girl… Daddy loves you so so much”

Those words were the beginning of our new adventure together. A deployment may have gotten in the way but everything fell right back into place the second our eyes met when he got off that carrier. The stars in our universe aligned again and you could tell Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep with the way he looked down at his baby girl.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader

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formulawolff · 7 months ago

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xiv. the aftermath - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: ANGST, lots of angst, mentions of sexual relationships, slight mentions of misogyny, cursing, slut-shaming, mentions of divorce, toto is lowkey yearning through this messiness, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“do you have any idea how serious this is?”

you huff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i am quite aware.”

“you are actively engaging in a sexual relationship with the team principal of another–”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“james,” a voice interjects, “do not make assumptions. we are not quite aware of the details or nature of their relationship.”

james scoffs, folding his arms across his chest, “i think i have a pretty good idea of the nature of their relationship. she fucking kissed him. in front of the entire world, nonetheless. it was not just a small peck either it–”

“james,” the voice’s tone shifts, hardened with a sternness, “she’s a twenty-two year old woman. she can speak for herself. i am aware that you are very passionate about the current reputation of the team, but i think we need to let her speak for herself, hmm? would you like to make a comment regarding the incident in monaco?”

your gaze falls on sir patrick head, co-founder of williams racing. surrounding you were members of the board, along with members of the management committee. all around, the paper white walls of the board room were blank, reminiscent of an interrogation room. the lack of notebooks, tablets, and laptops on the table were no help either, as you felt the entire focus of the room was lasered in on you. to your left was james, alex on your right.

marcus prosser, one of the heads of commercial and marketing sat across from you, his phone lying on the table, recording every single second of the ongoing conversation. you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting uneasily in your chair.

“do you want me to start from the beginning again or?”

“if you would like,” patrick shrugs, “you are not inclined to share every detail regarding your relationship with the mercedes team principal. we would like to know the gist of it, that’s all. is it strictly personal? borderline business? has he spoken of any future contract deals? that sort of thing.”

“well,” there was no reason to lie anymore, “after the first grand prix, in bahrain, he approached me. that was the beginning of our personal relationship.”

“did he mention any sort of thing about a future contract with mercedes?” marcus inquires, jotting down a few notes, “look, to put it plainly, the fia wants to ensure that your contract was not breached. that is the main thing that everyone is buzzing about. if he approached you with a contract deal and then began a personal relationship with you, then that’s textbook manipulation. mostly due to the fact that he was using the deal as leverage to kindle that relationship. and he deserves to be punished for that.”

“but what about me?” you raise a brow, “i consensually agreed to the personal relationship. i wanted–”

“you have to remember that you are thirty years younger than this man,” marcus’ voice is quiet, “he took advantage of you. he knew your age, and he began a relationship with you.”

“what happened to me being an adult?” you counter, “i am so sick of this bullshit that everyone is spreading around. i wanted a relationship with him. it wasn’t like he cornered me and demanded that we start seeing one another. it developed over time–”

“developed over time?” patrick’s brow furrow, “elaborate on that.”

“oh my god. i feel like we’ve been over this about a million times,” you exhale, “the relationship started in bahrain after the grand prix. we have been seeing one another in private since that night. i made things public in monaco. are we forgetting that here? that i was the person who initiated that kiss?”

“so in summary,” marcus clears his throat, his eyes honed in over the plethora of notes before him, “you placed eighth in bahrain. toto wolff approached you later that evening, stating that he wanted a personal relationship with you. in these last few weeks, the two of you have been engaged in a romantic relationship. is that correct?”

“let’s not forget that in that time, he did approach me inquiring about her contract,” james interrupts, “that was around jeddah or miami, i don’t really recall the details.”

“while i appreciate the statement,” marcus’ eyes narrow, glaring over at the team principal, “i was speaking to your driver.”

sucking in a breath, you nod, “everything we have discussed thus far has been answered to the best of my ability.”

“i see no further need for questioning,” marcus leans forward, pressing the stop icon on his screen, “if no parts of her contract have been breached, then i see no issue with their relationship. additionally, i trust that she has a good head on her shoulders and would not betray the team in any fashion. however, if there are future contract talks or negotiations, then you must facilitate a meeting with not only us and mercedes, but with the fia. they will want to ensure that you are not treated differently than any of the drivers or given perks that most drivers are not.”

“that’s it?” james coughs, “what about—“

“you can speak with her on your own accord,” patrick leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, “you have to remember james, she has won us a significant number of grand prixes. she is currently in first place for the title. and with her current trajectory, i do envision her standing on that podium, showered in champagne.”

“you see,” marcus taps his pen against the table, “if anyone’s reputation is suffering, it’s toto’s. he is the one who has a family. he is the one with an established career at mercedes. our american girl here, sponsors, investors, and the general public can forgive and forget. especially when there are world titles at stake.”

“but what about our team?” james retaliates, his voice growing louder with each and every word, “what about our reputation?”

“to be quite honest,” james, the other marketing head chips in, “we haven’t seen much talk regarding our reputation. most of the focus is on toto, like marcus said. additionally, imagine the publicity that are going to come out of this. drive to survive has already sent usa number of inquiries regarding an episode about our american girl. the fans are raving. in their words, they’re excited for the drama that will unfold in the coming season.”

“so to clarify,” you pipe up, “i’m not in trouble?”

“no, you’re not in any sort of trouble,” patrick’s voice was gentle as he spoke, “this is something that has never happened before in the history of formula one. there is sort of a grey area. at least, right now. per your contract, we cannot dictate who you can or cannot date. however, if you end up deciding that you would like to join toto at mercedes, please be as transparent with us as possible. additionally, be forewarned that the fia may not allow it due to conflict of interest.”

“right,” you nod, fiddling with your thumbs, “i thought i was going to lose my seat, if we’re being honest.”

“as long as you do not leak confidential team information with mr. wolff, then i do not see an issue with it,” patrick affirms, “we can’t afford to lose you. you’re our little shining star.”

at his tenderness in his words, tears brim your eyelids, threatening to spill over. your lower lip trembles, alex wrapping an arm around your shoulders as your voice shakes, “i-i can’t th-thank you guys enough. for everything. thank you for sticking by my side as we figure this mess out.”

“it’s not the worst we’ve seen,” a chuckle bubbles up in patrick’s throat, “sure, we may appear to have a no-nonsense policy, but we consider ourselves to be pretty flexible. also, this isn’t a mess. honey, it’s your personal life. of course we’re going to make sure that your well-being is prioritized. if you want to pursue a relationship with this man, we just want you to be happy.”

“besides,” marcus shoots you a wink, “it’s our job to keep the press at bay. if you would like, we can release a statement that we have thoroughly investigated the matter and will not make any further comments. that will keep the media satisfied until mercedes releases their own statement.”

“that would be nice,” you sniffle, wiping away a tear, “again, thank you so much. you guys have no idea how much this means to me.”

“we’re not going to force you to end things with someone just because you’re on different teams,” patrick rises to his feet, crossing over to you. patting your shoulder, he continues, the corners of lips curled into a sympathetic smile.

“besides, susie wolff worked with us for quite some time. although the circumstances are a little bit different this time around, this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a williams driver and a mercedes team principal involved in a romantic relationship.”

in the wake of monaco, it almost felt as if your little secret was completely exposed, for the entire world to pick apart and ridicule.

well, it was your fault, after all.

to make things worse, you could no longer seek out your escape, as he was thirty-nine miles away.

in the moments following the kiss, the wave of realization came crashing over the two of you, the cameras flashing, gasps arising from the crowd. you were whisked away by james, the image of toto almost disappearing as more and more journalists swarmed him, their phones and mics poised, eager for any sort of information regarding what just occurred.

it didn’t take long for the headlines to be blasted all across social media, tabloids, and any sort of press associated with the world of formula one.

toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas, was deeply involved in an affair with the twenty-two year old williams driver.

to put it lightly, you spent the following hours sobbing in your motorhome, the guilt filling you to the brim, pouring out as the tears splattered all over your pillow.

alex was the first one to offer solace, reaching out hours after the monaco grand prix.

when you didn’t answer the phone after about sixty-seven calls, he showed up, flowers and snacks in hand, a mix of emotions painted across his features.

yet, the second he noticed the tears, he set the items down at the door, scooping you up in his arms, rubbing your back as the sobs rang out, filling the space with your wails.

“are you okay?”

“d-does it look i’m okay?”

“can i come in?”

“if you even want to talk to me right now. the entire world hates me.”

“even if the world hates you, i love you. let me in.”

so, you allowed him in, your walls crumbling completely as you started from the very beginning, recalling every possible detail. you began with bahrain, filling in the spaces through monaco, including the spat with daniel, as well as your time in brackley. at first, alex was stone-faced, taking it all in. however, once you were finished, wiping away your tears once again, he leaned over the couch, offering you a tissue.

“you’ve been wiping away your own tears the last few hours. let someone else do it for you this time.”

the only aspect you did not include was the offer to sign with mercedes. as much as you wanted to tell someone, to get that crushing weight off your chest, you knew you couldn’t. that was far too risky. well, not like there were many risks left. your biggest secret had been spilled to the entire world, no thanks to you.

so much for keeping things between the two of you.

as much as you wanted to believe that the other drivers despised you after monaco, that was far from the truth.

lando, charles, lewis, george, and oscar had reached out, mostly voicing their support. lando was shocked, but he was more concerned about your well-being. same with oscar and charles.

lewis and george on the other hand, had somehow gotten ahold of your number, leaving a series of voicemails.

hey, hey, hey. it’s lewis. george and i want to come over and talk for a little bit, if that’s okay? i promise we just want to comfort you. toto is not doing too well either. if you want, we can sneak him over here somehow. it may be kind of hard, but we’ll try our best to make it happen.

hello, it’s george. we know that you’re really in the chatting mood right now, but we want to come over and bring toto. we know you need him. we would just make sure that no one comes by or bothers the two of you. just let us know what’s the best option. i hope you’re okay.

however, you never called the british drivers back.

it wasn’t like you didn’t want them to bring toto or comfort you, it was just the matter at hand.

they didn’t deserve to be whisked into this.

and fuck, they sure as hell did not deserve any negative press if they were spotted around your motorhome or speaking with you.

sure, you were really fucking scared of was what to follow in terms of your future career following the kiss of monaco, but you were more apprehensive of the press. the fia was vicious at times, but nowhere near as ruthless as the headlines, articles, and videos the press created. if the fia was a storm, the press was a hurricane.

and sure enough, it seemed as if the media was never going to let this go. even though the entire grid was prepping for canada, here the press was, pestering you for comments or tidbits on your little “affair” with the team principal. they nearly salivated over it, the slightest morsel or crumb of information dramatized into a lengthy article or used for clickbait, generating thousands upon thousands of views.

you were called a slut. you were called a whore. you were referred to as a homewrecker. it was stated over and over again that you should never set foot in a garage or sit behind the wheel of a car ever again.

this is why women should not be in formula one. they fuck everyone and everything in sight. even married men.

god, what a fucking slimy slut. fucking a married man? breaking up a family? the fia should ban her from competing for the foreseeable future.

yet, the general public was unaware of one crucial piece of information.

toto wolff was a single man.

a very single man.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“i cannot believe you. i cannot fucking believe you.”

toto wolff sat in his office chair as a figure paced back and forth, shaking her head, her tone laced with a venomous barb.

before him stood susie wolff, her neatly cut hair bobbing as she moved, “toto, you have fucked up before, and i have happily stood behind you, supporting you with everything i have. but this? oh my god. oh my fucking god. this is absolutely atrocious.”

yet, the team principal’s mind was focused on other matters.

his mind wandered, relishing the way your plush lips felt in that moment in monaco. the way your arms were around his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you as your mouths molded together, his tongue slipping in as your head rolled back, granting him more access. the way your beautiful lashes fluttered. the way you marched up to him, determination deeply embedded across your gorgeous face. the way the entire world around slowed, the team principal completely lost in you as the cameras recorded, taking in every second of the kiss.

fuck, he missed you.

too much.

so much that he took every blow from susie’s frustration with ease, still as a statue as she continued on, the words drowning in his ears.

“are you even fucking listening to me right now?” the question snaps him out of his trance, the team principal blinking.

“sure.”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” she growls, pointing a finger at him, “do you have any idea how much this has diminished our reputation? our marriage?”

“what marriage? we’ve been divorced for some time, susie.”

“the marriage we’ve been putting on for the cameras!” the blonde exhales, bringing a hand to her temple, “we’re supposed to be happily married, toto. or was that something that slipped your mind as you were fucking that little american driver? in our home, nonetheless.”

at the sheer spite in her tone, the team principal’s jaw clenches, “you have no idea what you’re talking–”

“i know you toto,” fingers massage her temple, “it’s pretty obvious that you’re screwing her. if you weren’t, you would have dropped her like a fucking hat the moment she pulled that little stunt in monaco.”

since monaco, the days blurred together.

how was he supposed to rebuild his broken reputation, his shattered world when you were thirty-nine miles away?

well, not like there was much to repair.

after the incident, the team principal was thoroughly investigated by mercedes, as well as the fia. he answered every single one of their questions with his full capabilities, ensuring to include every detail that would grant him some grace. well, there were a few things he left out.

one, your visit to brackley.

two, the numerous conversations involving his offer to sign you with mercedes.

three, the fact that you were joining him at mercedes for the 2025 season, driving alongside george russell.

there were no recorded conversations, messages, or evidence proving that he was planning to sign you. so, there were no repercussions. the only incident found was the time he spoke with james, inquiring about the details of your current contract.

sure, toto was a little careless when it came to keeping things private.

but he was not an idiot.

he was not going to lose his job over this, that was for sure. if the fia was to discover about his offer to make you a world champion at mercedes, he would be terminated immediately. so, that part was to remain in the dark.

at least, for the time being.

after speaking with the board members of williams racing, mercedes made it very clear that if there were to be talks of signing the american driver, or even hints of wanting her to join the team, then it needed to be officiated among both teams, in a space where the conversation could be recorded. there were to be no special perks, exceptions, or favoritism towards the driver. each and every aspect of a future contract would be detailed in a manner to ensure fairness and equality.

additionally, since this was one of the first few times that a team principal was involved in a romantic relationship with a driver, there were not a lot of rules or regulations regarding the subject. the fia made it clear that they truly had no direction or idea of how to go about the matter. and since it was not a prominent issue in the world of racing, they were going to leave it up to the teams to deal with the matter.

thank god for the gray areas.

yet, there were repercussions. consequences of his actions.

and one of those repercussions was standing before him, her eyes narrowed, her brows knit together, foot tapping against the floor.

“toto, just tell me this one thing.”

“and that is?” toto presses, leaning back in his chair.

susie inhales a sharp breath, her fiery gaze breaking away from the team principal as she stares at the floor, eyes glossy from the promise of tears.

“are you in love with her?”

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower

as always, if i forgot to include you, or if you would like to be added, please let me know! i'll try to get you added asap! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all so much! <3

#toto wolff #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x y/n #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #alex albon #george russell #lewis hamilton #williams racing #mercedes amg petronas

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norikuna · 25 days ago

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r/AsksReddit | Help! I think I accidentally summoned the King of Curses ! ⌦ part one of ?

💬 hi reddit, i know this sounds fake but i swear on my life it's true. i was just messing around with this prank book my friends got me last christmas and it had some 'ancient' summoning spells in it. i didn't even think it would work but there's a 7ft demon looking guy sitting on my couch and i don't know how to get rid of him.

Sorry, this post has been removed by moderators of r/AsksReddit. MOD: Please ask real and serious questions, thank you.

💬 update! the mods removed my post but i'm genuinely telling the truth here. anyway, it turns out that by summoning him, i think i bound us together for eternity. sukuna (that's his name) isn't that bad and he's kinda like a big, lazy cat.

u/9to5exorcist : Ryomen Sukuna? Are you quite sure? u/tenshadowsanimalcrossing : You're joking, no way u summoned sukuna lmfao. u/you : not joking! i took him grocery shopping today! u/SixEyesSensei : dm me asap!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!!

inspired by @kasukuna and the most amazing dumbass boyfriend!sukuna fics 🤎

absolutely refuses to use your furniture properly. sukuna insults your apartment for at least 2 whole days and calls it a sad, little domain. he has no idea what paying rent is like in this economy. lounges across the couch with all four arms spread, sits on the kitchen counters, and insists on rearranging your entire living room spread so he can move around it easier.

now you're constantly sleep deprived by having this deadbeat, massive behemoth of an awful flatmate. sukuna keeps telling you that he's a medieval sorcerer, someone who flattened entire clans and mountains but it's hard to take him seriously when he keeps hitting his head on your low ceilings. he's always so loud around the apartment, complaining about how boring it is for him to be stuck and bound to you forever. if you're a university student or just someone who's employed, he thinks he's being helpful by offering to curse your professors/employees.

you have to beg him to get some real clothes. you're slowly getting used to the anatomically strange sight of a 7ft man with four arms, but you know that others are going to call the police. he's usually wondering around your apartment and loitering in his loose, wide pants. nothing else, not even a shirt. occasionally sukuna will drape a cloak around his torso but you have to basically wrestle a baggy shirt over his head. and he bites you, at least thrice.

refuses to help clean, and claims he's very much above menial labour. one day, you threaten to leave sukuna hungry if he doesn't contribute for at least five minutes. he begrudgingly starts picking up after himself, but not before bestowing you with the ugliest death threats of all time.

sukuna is the very definition of a lazy freeloader. well, you told him to be useful and get a job, but then the idea of him causing more problems and insurance paperwork later made you break out in a cold sweat. so he usually spends his hours just loitering around your apartment, and draining your resources. never puts dishes in the sink and still doesn't grasp the concept of a fridge so he's always leaving the door open.

but he is very curious about modern day life. seems like the world has really moved ahead in the one thousand years that sukuna hasn't walked the earth. asks a million questions about wifi, the internet, a phone, streaming services and so on. he will be the last to admit it but he loves trashy reality television, and he enjoys watching 'pathetic humans squabbling over pathetic things'. has an ugly, evil-ass laugh that wakes up your neighbours at 3am.

after weeks of being cooped up in your apartment, he starts complaining. loudly. stomping around and getting even nastier, to the point where you have to give in. he tells you that he is no house pet, and if you don't let him outside, he will go anyway and have his own fun. god help you, sukuna's idea of fun in the big city will involve blood and destruction so you relent and prep him with a million rules that he ignores.

has a beef with a bunch of birds that sit outside your apartment every morning. definitely the type of weirdo that glares back at birds and throws rocks at them. backfired, because the entire swarm started flocking around him. but you did promise him that you'd let him go outside, so you decide to start with somewhere easy. grocery shopping.

already impressed with the idea of grocery shopping and parking lots. has no clue why humans would cram their 'carriages' in one place, and has no concept of traffic laws. you try patiently explaining that these cars weigh tonnes of metal and they can really injure a person. sukuna's pretty confident that no car could ever even scratch him. cue the big delivery truck that almost runs him down.

completely fascinated by sliding doors. it's already embarrassing enough being outside with a loud, rude tank with pink hair and tattoos. but now he's holding up gruntled customers trying to figure out what enchantment allows glass to move so smoothly on its own. keeps stepping back and forth in front of them to watch them open and close. almost breaks them with the strength of just one cracked fingers before you plead with him to keep moving.

sukuna encounters an escalator for the first time and refuses to step on it, and vows to bash in the head of the little kid who gave him a big side eye. after five minutes of arguing, he finally steps onto the moving belt and almost tilts off-balance, but he's got a tattooed hand practically gripping the side for dear life.

literally the biggest hater when he's inside properly. makes snarky remarks about how this flashy bazaar can't possibly be for real merchants who respect the trade. you try to show him the different types of stores, but he's more interested in people watching. loud people-watching. you almost go home when sukuna asks another man why he's swallowing wet balls. hint: it was an innocent guy having bubble tea.

entirely interested in new fruits and vegetables that he's never seen before. but he'll pretend he doesn't give a flying fuck. has taken a deep liking to tomatoes, and comments that these delicious, tasty red globes were not around during his era. sukuna thinks colourful cereal boxes are the worst things to ever happen to mankind, and you fear that you gave him too much internet access when he sneers at you for picking up a box of froot loops - suddenly muttering things about artificial and fake foods with fake flavours.

baffled by the concept of frozen food, and wonders what sort of jujutsu keeps the meat cold and fresh? practically wide-eyed when he reaches the butcher's stand until you tell him that 'no, sukuna. you can't buy steak and eat it raw here. we have to get home and cook it.' he's just happy to see the deli. he opens the freezer and fridge doors for too long and lets all the cold out.

he has no concept of modern money or a credit card. insists that there is no need to trade for these goods, and he can just take what he wants. you believe him but you're trying to avoid the mall police, but he just stands behind with his arms crossed, while you sigh and take out your credit card to pay at the self checkout.

sukuna refuses to sit still at the food court, and towers over the poor workers. demands to know how the food is made, "is it poisoned? who are your chefs?" the poor teenager working the kebab store has to call the manager to get this fiend of a man to back off. he's able to polish off a doner kebab in two, nasty bites. refuses to carry any of your shopping bags and claims that he's not a mule. you remind him that he put in five tubs of ice creams and two watermelons, and he begrudgingly slings the lightest bag over his shoulder and leaves you to haul the rest up.

but who knew the key to keeping your local king of curses happy was to just simply take him out for a walk? sukuna seems more energised (while you feel like death warmed over) and he's already tearing open a bag of your favourite crisps, insisting that next time he will be able to conquer this 'shopping centre' properly and rule it with ease.

#this silly piece.#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #works #modernsukuna #<- for series tag #daphworks

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ellecdc · 11 months ago

Text

Come Back, Be Here (part 6)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.1k

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received in canon), racism/bigotry, swearing x a million cuz it's Remus' POV, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, only to have you snatched out from under him again?

“Where the FUCK is she?”

The headmaster calmly placed his teacup back on its saucer as the two men came barging into his office.

“Ah, Mr. Black. Mr. Lupin. Please, take a seat.”

So, Sirius did; he took the seat, and he threw it at the wall.

“I am not fucking around old man. Where. Is. She? Where is Y/N?” He barked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Sirius stopped in his pacing.

“You don’t know!?” Remus repeated incredulously.

Dumbledore nodded.

Sirius picked up a spinning orb from the headmaster’s desk and sent it careening to the window. The windows – the damned things – were charmed not to break, but the orb did. As pieces of crystal shattered and scattered onto the floor, many sleeping portraits of previous headmasters began waking. A few stayed behind to watch the spectacle, whilst many left to find other portraits to haunt for the time being.

“That’s not good enough.” Sirius fumed.

With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore righted the chair Sirius had thrown. “Why don’t you have a seat, son?”

“I am not your fucking son!” He shouted back, kicking the seat over again.

“Mr. Lupin, why don’t you encourage your friend here to calm down?” The portrait of a previous headmistress asked condescendingly.

“Get fucked, ma’am.” Was his muttered response.

With a huff, the headmistress decided to leave as well.

“I am so sick of being played like some pawn in this gods-awful game of yours! We are children! You fucking groomed us as students and enlisted us right out of the gates, fattening us up like cattle for slaughter!”

“Now, Mr. Black-”

“I’M NOT DONE.” Sirius roared.

Dumbledore shifted his eyes to Remus, who kept his gaze firmly on him.

“You – you’re supposed to be this powerful wizard with years of experience. You defeated that Grindel-fuck back in the sodding dark-ages or whenever, yet somehow, this is out of your wheelhouse!?”

“Mr. Black, everyone learned from the Global Wizarding World with Grindelwald; Tom Riddle how to cheat death, and myself to enlist the help of others.” Dumbledore said.

“But you didn’t get help! You got soldiers, and we’re the ones fighting this fucking war for you! You get to sit here in this bloody castle with powerful ancient wards protecting you, drinking your tea, wanking to the portraits of the other headmasters in your spare time, while the rest of us get their fucking heads blown off!

“We’re the ones being captured. We’re the ones being tortured. We’re the ones being killed. We’re the ones with blood on our hands fighting for our fucking lives, everyday! Bouncing from safe-house to safe-house whilst never being safe. And you know! You’ve known there was a spy, you’ve had contacts on the other side, but you give us nothing. You just send us off on these fucking missions, blind, and we all have to hope that that’s enough. That we’ll live to see another day. That we’ll make it home to our loved ones.”

Sirius paused to catch his breath. “You will not get away with using her like this, not anymore, not by me.”

Dumbledore’s crystal blue eyes bore into Sirius’ stormy grey ones. After a few moments, he offered him a subtle nod.

“Where is she?” He repeated, quieter this time.

“Sirius, the truth is that I do not know.”

Sirius groaned. “How can you not know!? Fine, fine. Who is your contact? Apparently, someone who was in league with the Black’s for the stupid fucking house-elf to betray me like this. So, who is it? Narcissa? Finally tired of the bleach fumes from that husband of hers? It can’t be Bellatrix.”

Dumbledore pursed his lips as he considered Sirius.

“It’s not Bellatrix, is it?” He asked in quiet disbelief.

“No, son, it is not Bellatrix.”

“’Kay well, tell me who it is, then. Reg’s dead so you’re leaving me with dear old Cissy here.”

Dumbledore leaned onto his forearms on his desk as he peered at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles.

“A house-elf will always be the most loyal to the head of the house it serves.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, well my house-elf just up and fucked-off with the love of my life so I’d say his loyalty doesn’t exactly align with...me...” He trailed off as something seemed to dawn on him.

“Unless I’m not the head of the house.”

Remus’ neck snapped as he whipped his head to regard his friend.

“The deed and the vault at Gringotts were all moved to you, Sirius, you’re the head of the house.”

Sirius never pulled his gaze away from the headmaster. “Goblins can be tricked, and deeds can be forged.” He whispered. “But house-elf magic...”

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair.

“But Regulus is dead. He was pronounced dead – your mother offed herself because he was pronounced dead.” Remus argued.

“He was assumed dead.” Dumbledore corrected.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sirius breathed.

“Regulus has been in contact with me since this past spring. It appears that Miss. L/N was the turning point for him in this war.”

Sirius stared in bafflement. “What do you...”

“You may, one day, need to discuss with your brother. However, what he explained to me,” Dumbledore started. “Is that he had discovered Riddle’s secret of the horcruxes after becoming increasingly disenchanted by his rhetoric. He was intent on defeating Riddle himself, but came to me when he found Y/N.”

The colour drained from Remus’ face. “You knew? All this time.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to the lycanthrope.

“You knew!?” He repeated.

“You must understand, I could not remove her from Riddle’s ranks without rousing suspicion from the other Death Eaters who knew she was there. We were also becoming increasingly aware of a spy within our ranks and could not jeopardize the intel by alerting the Death Eaters of our own spy.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Sirius cried out. “You let her suffer there so you could keep the upper hand!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Fuck that!” Sirius barked. “Fuck that and fuck you!”

“You do not understand how differently this could have all played out without her, Sirius.”

Remus scoffed. “Oh the ‘could’s’, professor, really? We can sit here until our dying breath discussing all of the fucking could’s that could have taken place from the beginning of fucking time itself and it would mean nothing.”

“I don’t care what could have happened.” Sirius interjected. “You should have protected her. Protected all of us.”

Dumbledore looked between his two former students as he seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“The five horcruxes that Y/N brought us have been destroyed. I do not want to give Riddle time to realize that they are gone. I have discussed with our allies what will need to happen next.” Dumbledore stated.

“And what will need to happen next, professor?” Sirius sneered.

“It appears that Mr. Pettigrew told Riddle he would be the secret keeper by their next meeting.” Dumbledore said as Sirius swallowed bile rising in his throat. “I believe it would be best to lure Riddle out when he does not feel the need for an army.”

Remus leaned forward in his chair. “How do we do that?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. “It would be best if Riddle remained unaware of our knowledge of Peter.”

“I think he’s going to figure it out when he misses their next club meeting.” Sirius scoffed.

“Unless he goes.” Remus murmured.

“Over my dead body do we release that rat bastard.” Sirius growled.

“I agree, Mr. Black, I do not believe we should entrust Peter. However, there may be another way.”

Sirius looked at Dumbledore blankly. “Tell me, headmaster, do you plan on breaking out some unforgiveables? Because short of imperio, I’m not sure-”

“Polyjuice.” Remus blurted.

Sirius whipped his head to his friend in shock, whilst a twinkle of pride appeared in Dumbledore’s eye.

“We could keep up the ruse.” Remus explained.

“I’ll go.” Sirius claimed.

Remus groaned. “Pads, do you really think you’re the best person for this job?”

Sirius looked at Remus with a look of ill-hidden betrayal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sirius, this is the most sensitive mission possibly anyone will ever have to take. You are passionate but you have a tendency to go in guns blazing and this is not the setting.”

“I’ll be fine.” Sirius argued.

“You are going to hear and see things that will infuriate and you will not be able to react. You will have to put your morals aside.”

“Rem, honestly, I grew up with the pureblood bullshit, I can handle it.” Sirius insisted.

“It nearly killed you, Pads. I was there when you showed up at the Potter’s.”

“Remus, I’m going.”

“Perhaps it should be me.” Remus stated as if Sirius hadn’t said anything at all.

“Are you insane?”

“Obviously the answer to that is yes but listen: no one would be able to use legillimency on me due to lunar magic, I stand a better chance at keeping a level head, and I’m perhaps just a touch less emotionally invested in this than you are.” Remus argued.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’ve spent my entire life pretending that I’m not a monster. I’m sure I can pretend to be one for a little bit.”

“You’re not a monster.” Sirius sighed.

Remus gave him a sad smile. “See? I’ve fooled you all.”

Dumbledore hummed. “I think Mr. Lupin may be right, Sirius. Perhaps you should trust him with this.”

“Of course I trust him, but-” Sirius started, turning to look at Remus. “I can’t lose you too.” He admitted quietly.

Though the sentiment caused a twinge of pain in Remus’ chest, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to razz his mate. “Awe, Pads. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.” He cheeked as he pinched Sirius’ arm.

“Oh, sod off you wanker.” Sirius muttered and crossed his arms.

“I suppose it’s settled.” Dumbledore claimed. “Please await my correspondence with further instructions.”

October 29th

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” James could be heard muttering as he paced the family room of 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Why isn’t Dumbledore doing this himself?” Lily muttered darkly.

“I’m not leaving Y/N in his hands, not again.” Sirius murmured into his hand as he stared at the fire. “It should be me going. Remus, I should go.”

With a sigh, Remus stood from the wingback chair. “No, Pads. It’s too late to change the plan now. It’s going to be fine.”

Sirius shook his head and looked at the ceiling.

“She’s fucking strong, Sirius. And she’s got more people on her side this time. We’re gonna finish this.” Remus pressed.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and everyone took a steadying breath.

“Be careful, Rem.” Lily tearfully murmured as she gave him a hug.

“I hate this.” James repeated just as quietly as he too hugged the lycanthrope.

Remus smiled at them both before he moved to Sirius, who had shifted his gaze back to the fire.

“We’re close, Pads.” He whispered.

Sirius nodded, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Thank you, Moony. For going after her.”

“She’s pack.” Remus said simply causing Sirius to let out a shuddering breath.

“Be careful.”

Remus nodded in agreement and took a swig from his pocket flask. He grunted slightly as he felt his body shifting and changing, but it was nothing close to the pain he experienced every full moon.

Sirius, Lily, and James all looked in various levels of disgust as Remus – now in the form of Peter Pettigrew – stood to his full height. “How do I look?”

The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before turning back to Remus...Peter?

“Fuck, this is weird.” James muttered.

“Yeah, honestly mate, I think you should go.” Sirius agreed.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not actually him, right?”

Lily grimaced. “Yeah, yeah Judas. Get going.”

Sirius and James looked at her inquisitively, but Remus snorted a laugh offering everyone a wave as he stepped into the street. He walked a short distance to a hidden alleyway where he could apparate to the location of the Death Eater meeting. Remus sent one silent prayer to any god who’d listen.

Please let this go smoothly.

Lestrange Manor loomed dauntingly in front of Remus as he tried to muster the courage to walk up the brick path leading to the door. Purebloods and their gaudy houses he mused silently.

“Petty-Pettigrew!” A voice sing-songed behind him, causing him to turn.

Barty Crouch Jr skipped towards him merrily as if he were an alt-punk Dorothy on his way to Oz. He paused in front of Remus and tapped his cheek twice, slightly too hard to be considered just condescending and bordering on aggressive. “How’s our favourite little rat?”

Remus grimaced but tried to play it off as a smile. “Er, I’m-”

“Oh, Salazar. No, I don’t actually care.” Barty chuckled, looking back at his entourage like can you believe this guy? His friendly façade fell as he turned back to Remus. “Better have something for the Dark Lord today, otherwise we’ll find other uses for our little lab rat.” He finished with a slimy wink as he continued up the path to the manor.

Well, Remus thought, welcome to Hell, I suppose.

He followed Barty The Deranged and company up the walkway, fighting the urge to hum: We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz as he went.

If Remus thought the outside of Lestrange Manor was counteracting the anti-depressants coursing through his system, the inside of it made him want to grab the closest silver fork and end it all. He walked along what had to be a fourty-foot table trying to find the best seat before he realized that this was the wrong approach – every seat was terrible.

“Don’t be absurd, Pettigrew.” Mulciber sneered at Remus. “A lowly like you stands at the back.”

Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded, moving to stand near the wall by the door. At least I’ll be close if I need a quick exit. He also fought the biting urge to lunge at the sight of Fenrir Greyback. You’re here for a reason, Lupin.

Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the...Remus didn’t know what the hell purebloods wont to call rooms like this...a grand room? A dining room? A reception hall? Whatever it was called, it fucking sucked, and it sucked worse when those three walked in. The brothers mostly regarded themselves with proper decorum, but Bellatrix and her certain flare seemed to suck the air out of the room causing everyone to stand a little more at attention.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked like she was the Queen of Hearts attending her own coronation. She smiled wickedly at those seated around the table, pausing briefly to share terse words with Lucius Malfoy, before then double-cheek-kissing his wife and her sister, Narcissa.

There seemed to be some sort of disagreement about who should sit in one of the two seats at the head of the table next to the Dark Lord’s seat (throne for all intents and purposes), but a silent conversation that passed between Bellatrix and her brother-in-law resulted in the latter finding another chair.

Voldemort walked into the room and those who had been sitting stood suddenly, falling deathly silent as Voldemort moved to stand at the head of the table. The sickening smell of dark magic accosted Remus who felt his eyes water; he swallowed hard against his gag reflex as a giant python type snake slithered its way into the room.

If there was ever any speculation that Nagini was the sixth horcrux before, Remus now felt confident that he could confirm it.

“My Lord.” Rodolphus said reverently as he bowed his head. Remus watched as the rest of the room did the same, and quickly followed suit – he wanted to throw up.

Remus’ plan of attack here was to be as non-descript as possible. He was here for one reason – tell Voldemort he was the secret keeper and plan a course of ‘attack’ on the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow – otherwise, he was to be invisible. He could not be invisible if he was angry, and if he listened too closely, he’d get angry, so...

He almost missed it when Voldemort addressed him.

“Now, I trust that you were successful in your task?” Voldemort’s voice echoed through the room, sounding more like an actor in a Greek tragedy than a tyrannical fascist leader addressing his followers.

A throat cleared before something hit Remus on the shin. He looked up and realised everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Oh erm, uh yes. My apologies...my Lord...” He tried to regain his footing. “Uhm, I was successful. I am officially the Potter’s secret keeper.”

Bellatrix barely waited until the end of the sentence to stand and begin cackling maniacally. “We’re going to kill the child! We’re going to kill the child!” She sang as she jumped and clapped her hands.

Voldemort hardly spared Bellatrix a sideways gaze as he lifted one hand – she fell silent and returned to her seat, continuing to smile and wiggle as if it were difficult to keep her obvious joy at bay.

“Though I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he began, “I’d like to eliminate this specific threat myself.”

By the end of the sentence, he was offering Remus a chilling smile. Remus worked to keep his breathing even as he tried to reciprocate it.

“Where is this hide away located?” Voldemort asked.

“Erm, Godric’s Hollow, m’Lord.”

“You will take me to them. You shall meet me in the town square at eight in the evening the day after tomorrow. We shall eliminate this threat to me once and for all.”

“Any threat to you is a threat to all of us, my Lord.” Alecto Carrow said severely which was met with a muttering of agreement from around the table.

“You will all be rewarded greatly for your dedication and loyalty to me.” Voldemort declared, and Bellatrix began a round of applause.

The meeting carried on and Remus ensured to take two more swigs of the Polyjuice potion to avoid turning back into himself prematurely.

A black cat had materialized beside Remus at some point throughout the meeting and appeared to make itself at home beside his left foot. The feline seemed to watch as Remus would lift the flask to his mouth, and he became increasingly paranoid that this cat somehow knew he was an imposter. Was this cat a spy? Was this a spy cat who somehow knew Peter was caught for being a spy for the Death Eaters and that I, as a spy, came to this meeting as Peter as a spy for the Order pretending to be Peter who was acting as a spy for the Death Eaters.

Fuck, Remus was losing it.

Get a grip you stupid bastard. He scolded himself.

The meeting appeared to conclude as Voldemort stood, and everyone followed suit. A few higher pointing Death Eaters seemed to congregate at the head of the table – Malfoy, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Snape, Nott, Goyle, and the Carrows encircled Voldemort.

Remus began looking for the door when he felt the cat brush up against his leg. He looked down to the black cat who was peering back up at him – the eyes were light, nearly blue but not quite – and they looked disturbingly familiar. The cat seemed to be cocking an eyebrow at him, if cats could do such a thing, as Remus considered it.

“What?” Remus whispered.

“Make a habit o’ talkin’ to rodents, do ye Pettigrew?” The sickening sound of Greyback’s voice permeated Remus' hearing – as well as his other senses. Suddenly, Remus was four years old again, waking to the sound of screaming that turned out the be his own as a wolf locked its jaw upon his chest. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he thought of his mothers screams and sobs, begging the healers to do something – anything – to help her boy, whilst everyone murmured it’d be kindest to just ‘put the boy out of his misery’.

“I do, actually,” Remus said, lacing his words with venom. “I’ve found they often make better company than a mangey wolf.”

Greyback seemed taken aback as he considered Remus.

“Why you little-”

“Ah, there you are, Splash.” A posh accent commented from Remus’ other side. He turned to see the form of Narcissa Malfoy bending to pick up the black cat.

“Good work, Pettigrew.” She commented as Splash weaseled its way back out of Narcissa’s arms and took a few paces to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.”

Remus nodded at Narcissa, feeling off kilter at her cordial behaviour; he couldn’t imagine Peter ever making friends with the likes of her. He moved toward the door and as he walked, he realized that the cat had paused and was watching Remus before carrying on ahead.

Remus felt like he could finally take a deep breath once he stepped beyond the gated entrance of the manor. His peace didn’t last long when he realized the cat had paused again and was once again watching him.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” He muttered quietly.

The cat looked as though it rolled its eyes at him as he walked a few more feet ahead, turning back to Remus.

“Are you expecting me to follow you? I’m not as dumb as I look.” He commented again, though realizing too late that he may actually be as dumb as he looks, seeing as he was currently talking to a cat.

He heard a low growl emanate from the cat’s chest before it turned and walked away without turning back this time to confirm Remus was following it.

“It seems as though curiosity may kill the wolf today.” Remus muttered to himself as he begrudgingly followed the cat against every one of his instincts which were screaming at him to just get the fuck out of there.

The cat stopped in a densely wooded area and seemed to scan the are before turning back to Remus, who in turn stood and stared at the cat dumbly.

“I don’t see a pentagram anywhere, is this not where you plan to sacrifice me to the devil?” He asked as he too scanned the woods for potential threats.

“Salazar, you Gryffindor’s are bloody exhausting.” A voice rang through the woods. Remus whipped his head back towards the sound, and where the cat once stood was none other than Regulus Black.

“Holy fucking shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “and so eloquent, as always.” He muttered.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.” Remus seethed.

“Disappointed, are you?”

Remus gritted his teeth. “Where’s Y/N?”

Regulus’ eyes softened considerably, though his posture remained stiff as he considered Remus.

“Safe. That is all you need to know.”

“Fuck that, Black. Where is she?”

Regulus sucked in a breath, appearing to attempt to steady himself at having to deal with the likes of Remus.

“The Dark Lord’s followers became aware that she was not as dead as they had previously assumed. We could not risk them searching for her.” Regulus admitted.

“How could they have known she wasn’t dead? The only person who could have reported that to them is Peter and he’s a little tied up right now.” Remus said darkly.

“My cousin’s little art project on her arm was done with a cursed blade – the dark magic left a trace on her. When Yaxley tried to claim that she had died while trying to escape from his hold instead of admitting he let her get away, Bellatrix was quick to prove him wrong.”

“What?” Remus asked in shock.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Good gods, which of you imbeciles did that old man send?” He asked before casting a quick finite over Remus.

Remus felt the Polyjuice potion wash away from his form as he stretched out to his correct height.

“Aren’t you wolves supposed to have superhuman hearing?” He asked condescendingly.

“Fuck off.” Remus spat.

“Now, now. There is no need for such language, Lupin; we are on the same side, after all.”

“Like fuck we are. You’re a marked Death Eater, and you abducted Y/N.” He spat.

“I think it should be obvious by now that I have clearly defected here, Lupin.” Regulus responded.

“Why?”

This seemed to catch Regulus off guard. “Pardon?”

“Why defect?”

Remus watched as Regulus stared hard at him, when suddenly a filmy haze seemed to overtake Regulus’ grey eyes and his face grew hard.

“I hardly think that is relevant.”

The two men stared at each other sizing one another up.

Remus felt conflicted. He knew Sirius hated his family, but Sirius never really could bring himself to hate Regulus – he was only a child, just like Sirius was. Regulus was a victim too. They were each dealt a shitty hand, but the way they played their cards were different. Regulus chose the path of least resistance by adapting and adhering to his parent’s wishes. Sirius rebelled, pushed back, and decided to fold, leaving the game altogether.

Sirius wanted to hate Regulus; when he got his Dark Mark, and then again when he died. But he couldn’t bring himself to, because part of it felt like it was his fault; Regulus took the role that Sirius himself was born into – and in many ways, Sirius felt as though he forced his little brother into this. And in the end, it cost Regulus his life.

But Remus, looking at Regulus now; having faked his own death, defected from not only his family’s legacy but also the reign of the 'Lord' that he had sworn himself to, all whilst helping the other side; how different were the two brothers, really?

Twin Renegades.

“Sirius is beside himself.” Remus admitted quietly.

Regulus seemed pained by this admission.

“I wouldn’t have given her back yet if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Remus’ heart stuttered. “Wait, you – you’re the one who brought her to Godric’s Hollow?”

He was responded with a single curt nod.

“But, but how? How did you know? The house is...”

“Y/N. She had described to me what she called ‘location seven’. I apparated her there.”

Remus balked. Each Order team had several secret locations they would be able to travel to in case anything went sideways during a mission. Remus wasn’t as familiar, seeing as he was the only Order member who could attend his particular missions, but he had heard his friends discussing it before. Even Lily and Sirius didn’t know the areas of James and your secret locations; they were for your safety, and your safety only.

“Location seven was the cottage in Godric’s Hollow?”

“No, it was the wooded area behind it. I could feel the familiar sense of a fidelius charm nearby, so I brought her as close to it as I could before I ran, we...” Regulus heaved a sigh, “we had fought our way out, we’d barely made it.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Regulus.”

“I’m sorry, Lupin. You may not believe me, but I am. I... I saved her because I could not watch the woman my brother loved die in front of me. I saved her for him, but the other’s discovered I had rescued her, and suddenly it became much bigger than him. I couldn’t just return her at the time.” Regulus admitted.

“The last time you saved her, she was hardly safe. How do we know she’s safe now?” Remus pleaded.

Regulus grimaced. “Again, the others had known I had rescued her last time. This time, they do not know she is here. They do not even know I am here.”

“How is she safer with you than she is at home with Sirius? With us?”

“You moved five members of the Order plus an infant with a bounty on its head into one house. If they had gone searching for Y/N and found you, it would have been devastating for the cause.” He explained. “Listen; you will escort the Dark Lord to the Potter’s cottage in two days. He plans to attend with you as Peter Pettigrew, alone; he will show up unknowingly out numbered. He goes nowhere without Nagini, and we will be able to destroy the last horcrux before finally ending the Dark Lord’s reign of tyranny. She will be home to you soon.”

“What about you?” Remus asked.

Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”

“When this is over, what about you?”

Regulus looked Remus up and down. “I hardly think it matters.”

“Of course it does; of course you matter.”

Regulus’ eyes turned stormy. “Do not pretend to know anything about me, Lupin. I have never once mattered; not to my brother, hardly to my parents until I was the last one standing, never to Dumbledore, and rarely to the Dark Lord, lest my family’s money benefitted his cause.”

“You matter to Sirius.”

“Enough!” Regulus shouted, seeming to forget himself. Remus was sure he’d never even heard of Regulus having ever raised his voice before. “Do not fuck this up, Lupin. We have one chance to end this.”

And with a quick spin, Remus was left in the dense woods alone. He hadn’t noticed how late it was until now, the darkness seeping into his bones leaving him chilled in the late October evening.

It didn’t exactly go well, but it sure could have gone a lot worse.

He walked towards where Regulus had been standing and noticed a small piece of parchment laying in the wet leaves. He picked it up and unfolded it.

“Stay safe. 1, 2, 3. V.”

It could have gone a lot worse.

October 30th

Regulus sighed – he felt exhausted from the meeting with Remus Lupin yesterday. He hated raising his temper, it made him feel like Sirius; it made him feel like a Gryffindor.

Regulus’ cat form pushed past a vine covered gate and entered a grandiose stone outbuilding before shifting back to his human form.

“Can Kreacher get master a drink before Kreacher leaves?”

Regulus sighed. “You should not return until this is over, Kreacher. My brother is surely not happy with you.”

The house-elf scoffed. “Kreacher is not afraid of blood-traitors. Besides, Kreacher serves the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; Kreacher belongs at Grimmauld Place.”

“Underestimate my brother, Kreacher, and it will be your head on the wall.” Regulus muttered.

“Now cousin, do try to keep your patience.” Narcissa said as she opened the door to her hidden library located in a small building behind the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

You sat on a Victorian style settee in Narcissa’s library with a babbling Draco on your knee as you cast colourful butterflies above him, causing the toddler to coo and clap.

“We’re in.” Regulus announced, causing your head to snap forward and Draco to make grabby hands at him. “This ends tomorrow.”

Continue to part seven here.

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