#Threw all of them into my cart

[justalittlerandomartist]

Today we learned i have terrible spending habits

[milo-is-rambling]

Quick Netflix play the Tuca and Bertie episode where Bertie has intrusive pastry pete memory/fantasy masturbation and then has panic attacks and tries to get rid of her vibe and her bed to magically fix herself. Umm. No reason why I wanna watch that one tho. It’s fine. No comment.

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[tohokuu]

there’s only one bed left - tengen, akaza, rengoku, giyuu

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : suggestive, fluff, smut in giyuu’s

a/n : they’re so cute and fluffy i love and omg k want this to happen to me so bad. also, can you guys tell i love akaza???

TENGEN

you and your current boyfriend had offered to take you on a vacation to turkey. you agreed, happily ready to see the mountains and planes of turkey. upon arrival at the hotel, tengen took both of your suitcases, handing them to the bus boy that was at the door to carry your luggage for you.

“tengen, i could’ve held it.” you insisted. he shook his head. “it’s not very flashy.”

you raised an eyebrow, sighing and giving up because there was never any good reason to argue with him and win.

you two walked up to the reception, a kind old man standing behind the counter.

“a reservation for uzui tengen, please.” tengen crooned. his body seemed giddy and the hair on his arms rose. maybe he was cold?

the bus boy carried your luggage onto a cart. you felt bad for him. no one was helping him and he was pushing a card with a total of 12 suitcases with him. he couldn’t see ahead of him but neither tengen helped him, nor did he allow you to.

you pursed your lips, hoping the awkward silence would pass by quickly in the elevator.

at the ding of the elevator, you all stepped out and tengen was gracious enough to carry 4 suitcases on his own, not even breaking a sweat.

his work out routine was rough.

upon arrival, you looked into the large spacious king suite. two beds settled into each side of the room, 5 feet of space between both of them.

tengen walked through the threshold in shock. the smile on his face replaced with a shocked and confused expression.

he threw his arms out forward, bending and looking at the two beds.

“what the fuck!? i asked for one bed!”

AKAZA

“there’s only one room left and it’s got a single queen sized bed.” the receptionist said as she looked up at you and akaza.

you and him turned to look into each others eyes, dumbfounded expressions on your face.

“uhm… are you sure there aren’t any more?” he asked her. she shook her head. “i’ve checked twice, sir. this is the only room available. there will be more later tomorrow.”

you observed your situation. would you drive through the pouring snow for another hour for the next hotel, or sleep in your car and risk freezing to death?

what could you do? because you’d rather sleep on the edge of a volcano than sleep in the same bed as akaza.

not that you hated him or anything. it was his sheer attractiveness that pulled you in. he was so handsome and so sweet and respectful, but he was also strong and kind.

there was nothing to dislike and that’s exactly what bothered you. you liked him.

so how could you be able to handle sleeping with him??

“does the room come with a couch?” he asked. the receptionist shook her head.

“i’m afraid not, sir. there’s only one room available with one bed.”

akaza sighed and looked at you. “we can stay if you’d like, or i can go find a different hotel .” he quickly offered. you shook your head.

“it’s too cold, akaza. just stay here, we’ll figure it out.”

-

just like that, you two are forced to be in close proximity together. akaza had tried to take the floor but the cold marble was freezing and you’d rather not make him suffer through that.

so your next option was to sleep together with pillows put in between you two as a barrier.

the silence was awkward.

there was so much tension, it could have been cut with a knife. sleep wouldn’t come easy either, you were too stressed … and a little bit hot.

“akaza, it’s hot in here.” you whined. he sighed, knowing it was because the hotel had racked the heater up so high and the pillows and blankets you used to separate yourselves wasn’t helping.

“let’s get rid of the pillows, then.” there was hesitation in his voice. he wasn’t completely sure if you’d be okay with taking the pillows down. you sighed, thinking with your cunt instead.

“it’s perfectly fine.” you smiled, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at him from across your little wall.

the pillows were thrown on to the floor by the both of you in a comical manner. you pushed the comforter down a bit, revealing your tiny shorts and crop top.

this felt a lot better.

but akaza warmed up. he realized how close to naked you were lying next to him on this big bed. what was to stop him if he wanted you?

his brain, of course.

“can we cuddle?” he asked. his voice was filled with that same hesitation from earlier. you turned your head to look at him.

“what?” you asked.

even in the moonlight, you could see the redness of his cheeks and the way his long lashes fluttered over his blue eyes.

“nothing, i-… i just-“

your wave of confidence washed over you as you turned towards him, hooking one leg over his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his body was frigid. he didn’t know what to do. your own was excruciatingly hot because how on earth did you manage to do this?

a moment of silence and pure awkwardness passed by until his arms wrapped around you, a little bit tighter as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“you smell good.” you two whispered at the same time. a laugh booming into the air as you realized your mistake. he laughed too, eyes shutting closed while peacocks formed at the corner of his eyes.

he looked back at you, smiling in content in this position he got himself in.

a hand trailed up your neck and as if the world has slowed down and the wind had began to blow, you felt the searing touch of akaza’s lips slot against yours.

you whimpered into his mouth, kissing back with just as much passion. he held onto your face he tenderly, cradling it as though you might break.

“i like you.” he whispered against your lips.

“i like you more.”

RENGOKU

“rengokuuuu!!” you wailed. he turned to look at you, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“what happened, y/n?” the orange haired male asked.

you pouted, explaining to him that there was only one cabin left and the cabin only had one bed. rengoku smiled as if there were no issues. “that’s quite alright. i can take the couch!”

you shook your head. “no, absolutely not. i’d feel terrible.” the smile never faltered from his face. he was an endless ray of sunshine that kept you warm for days.

“don’t worry, my dear y/n. we’ll figure it out. don’t worry.”

-

you wondered how he’d ended up in your bed. he was shirtless, hair sprawled out messily on the pillowcase and his abs were on full display.

you lay against him, his arm pulling you over his chest. then you looked down…

‘why am i fucking naked??’

rengoku was also naked… does that mean you two?..

you looked in the corner at the empty bottle of whiskey. your face felt impossibly hot but a wet feeling erupted in between your legs at the idea of rengoku being the one to pleasure you.

still, you sat there in shock. how could you have spent a night with rengoku and not even remember it?! this was absolutely atrocious.

“good morning, my flower.” a voice interrupted your thoughts. it was deep, coming from the broad chest of the man you slept with last night.

“g-good morning, rengoku…” you replied, swallowing an awkward lump in your throat.

“rengoku, did we… did we fuck last night?” you asked him sheepishly, holding the bed spread tightly to your chest. he looked confused, still half asleep.

he peered one eye open, looking to check if he was nude.

he was.

with that, he shot up. a blush enflamed his cheeks. what the fuck..he thought.

“n-no.. i didn’t just fuck you for the first time and not remember it.” he whined, worry deeply set in his voice. you calmed him down, rubbing a soft hand up and down his chest.

“we have many more opportunities to make love again.” you reasoned. you had been with the man for just a few months, wanting to take it slow and surely not sleep with each other until you were both ready but this… this was quite different than what you planned.

“i know, but angel, this was the first time.” he whined softly.

you pulled his head onto your chest. running your fingers through his hair, trying to get him to stop being mean to himself.

“it’s okay, baby.” you cooed. “we have all the time in the world, don’t worry.”

“well in that case…you wanna go round 2 right now?”

GIYUU

“there’s only one room left, sir.” the receptionist called out. giyuu sighed. “we’ll take that one.” he didn’t give you much of a choice. dragging your luggage and his with him up the elevator, he hadn’t said a word.

you figured he was already quite annoyed about the pompous amount of rain outside. you two were traveling for a meeting and the rain had delayed both of you. it bothered him endlessly that he was going to miss such an important meeting.

you chose not to speak, not wanting to irritate the quiet male.

he set down your luggage on the side, next to the bed. his clothes came off next. jacket, sweater and a black tank top that he chose to leave on. he took off his jeans, lounging around in plain black boxers.

“take the bed. i’ll be fine on the couch.” he grumbled. you nodded, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable to sleep in.

-

you walked back out in a large t shirt and panties. you figured it didn’t matter much because your t shirt was so big that it reached the middle of your thigh, anyway.

but giyuu saw. he was turned towards you when you reached down to put your phone on charging, your ass on clear display for him.

he breathed sharply through his nose. it was simply a bad idea to even have turned facing your direction. he felt his dick semi-hard.

turning around, he ignored it, choosing peace instead.

it was later that night that something woke him up. was it the rush of heavy rain? the hotel telephone? or … heavy breathing coming from your side of the room.

he quietly listened, steadying his own breathing.

his eyes widened as he heard everything that fell from your lips, dick straining against his boxers.

fuck.

you were touching yourself… to the thought of him.

the mewls were hushed, doing your best to keep quiet. the air was hot and heavy and when he slowly peeked to look over, he saw you with your legs spread. they stretched far apart as your pretty pussy was on display. he could hear how wet you were, fingers sloshing around in the mess inside of you.

“g-giyuu…” you breathed heavily. he couldn’t help but trail his own hand to his cock, rubbing it uncomfortably against the palm of his large hands.

“f-feels so good.” you whined softly.

he could only imagine. he could think of 10 different ways that he could make you cum. 10 different ways to make you go stupid and crying for him and his cock.

he rutted against his palm harder, trying to keep the grunts of pleasure in. he was so close to his orgasm, just needed a bit more, and you gave it to him.

“ ‘m gonna cum so hard,, g-giyuu..” you cried softly, the tears in your voice apparent.

then what giyuu got up, trailing his way to your bed. he pulled the covers farther down, revealing your calves.

your eyes shot open as you stopped, the pleasure long gone.

“g-giyuu, this isn’t what it looks like- i swear!” you shouted.

he put a hand over your mouth.

“shut up, i’ll take care of you now.”

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [9] - Tranquility

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Simple days can be calming.

Word Count: 2853

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was very fun.

“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.

“Just a hammer?”

“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”

“Exactly why we’re here.”

Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.

Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?

Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.

“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”

“Screw anchors?”

You tilted your head.

“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”

“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”

“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.

“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”

You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”

“Mm hm, they are plastic.”

“Well, where do people use these?”

“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.

“Yay!”

“Anything else you want from here?”

You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.

“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”

“Mm hm.”

“Why?”

“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”

“None of my furniture is anchored.”

“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”

“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”

“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”

He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna use it.”

“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”

“It’s on the other side of the room.”

“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”

You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.

“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”

“What are makeover shows?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”

Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.

“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.

“Why not?”

“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.

“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”

“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.

“It is kind of important in a drill—”

“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”

Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.

“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”

                                                 *

At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.

You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.

“No need princess.”

“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”

“How’s that?”

“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.

You’d had a wet dream like this.

“How did you learn how to do all this?” you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”

“And that’s your hobby?”

“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”

You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.

“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”

“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”

“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”

Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.

“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”

“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”

A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”

You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”

You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.

“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”

                                                        *

The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.

Either or.

“I’m not really much of a TV person.”

“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.

“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”

“The best romance in the history of humankind.”

Logan pulled his brows together.

“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”

“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”

“Four days?!”

“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”

“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”

“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“So you were around when Titanic happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”

You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.

“Holy shit you’re tall.”

“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”

“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yep.”

“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.

“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”

Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.

“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.

“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”

Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.

“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”

You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.

“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”

“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”

“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.

“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”

“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.

“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”

“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.

“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.

“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”

Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”

“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”

Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”

“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.

“A masterpiece, if you will.”

“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”

Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.

“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”

“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”

“He was the one who cheated on you.”

“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”

Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.

“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”

“Aw thank you.”

“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”

Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.

“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.

“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.

10 - Storm

[nervoussagittarius]

a vlog that’s pretty much just y/n’s day in the life

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: your boyfriend and his brothers film a day of their life, including their time with you. request

warning: fluffy, slightly suggestive (if you look hard enough), language

“wake up sleep heads,” nick said focusing the camera on yours and chris’s sleeping frames. “we’re filming our lives today and you guys need to get up.”

a slight groan could be heard from your boyfriend, but you made no efforts to acknowledge it. you were to focused on the deep sleep you were attempting to fall back into. “what nick?” chris’s voice had sleep prominent in it. his words made you more alert than before.

you picked your head up slightly but quickly threw it back down, loudly sighing at the light nick pointed at the two of you. you head came in contact with chris’s arm, slightly scaring him. “nick what the fuck are you doing kid. can’t you see she’s trying to sleep.” chris was less concerned about his own comfort then yours. he turned his body into you, blocking you from the light.

“can you two just get up and start yapping so this video is entertaining?”

“yea nick, just get the fuck out”

with nick leaving the room, chris started getting out of bed as well. becoming more coherent, you looked over at chris as he was picking both of your guys clothes off the floor from last night. “chris, get back in bed with me” you said to him giving him a slight smirk. he smiled at you before launching himself back in the bed.

the boys had a couple meetings that morning, so they picked up the camera again as you all were shopping for ingredients for dinner. since you volunteered to make them food it was the boys job to figure out everything you needed.

nick walked behind you, chris, and matt so he could film what the three of you were doing. matt pushed the cart as chris kept his death grip on your hand, pulling you with him and pointing out every interesting thing he saw. “look at the flowers, baby. do you want flowers? i’m gonna buy you flowers. what kind do you want?” chris dropped your hand walking away from you as he looked intently at the flowers trying to choose the prettiest ones. “you don’t need to buy me flowers” you had to raise your voice a little so he could hear you, but in response all you got was a little hand wave brushing your comment off.

nick turned the camera on you. “your boyfriend is like a child. he doesn’t listen.” you gave his a shrug and a laugh. “i think i have to have a talk with mary lou to see what went wrong with that one” you said pointing at chris, who was now walking back over to you three with two different bouquets of flowers.

“you referring to your amazing boyfriend, who’s buying you flowers might i add, as ‘that one’ is crazy.” chris found his place at your side. he handed you the flowers and pulled a piece of lint off of the fresh love hoodie of his that you were wearing. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. also, i said you didn’t have to buy me flowers.” “exactly that why i’m buying you two.” he said kissing your forehead nodding in matt’s direction for you to start walking.

poor matt had been done most of the grocery shopping himself. none of you were paying enough attention to him, so when you got home to make dinner the ingredients were definitely a suprise. luckily you ended up with chicken and pasta so the rest came easily.

chris came up to you with the camera as you were cooking. “what are you making chef?” before you even got the chance to open your mouth and respond another comment was being made by chris. “vlog, look at how pretty my girlfriend is. she’s actually perfection” he put the camera on the counter so it was facing both of you. he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the stove so you were in frame. “give them a spin ma. wearing my brand and everything”

you faked annoyance as you spun beside chris. not being able to keep a straight face for long you broke into laughter. when you returned to facing him he pulled you into a hug. he released your shoulders so he could hold your face him his hands. with your arms still around his waist, you leaned up to give him a small kiss.

matt came over to you guys, looked at you in disgust, and grabbed the camera off the counter. “sorry for you had to see that. chef matt is taking over because our original chef has become distracted.” matt tried to take your spot at the stove, but you weren’t going to allow it. “matt do not touch that you’re going to ruin it.” the bickering went on between you two for a while before realizing you could just work together.

that night, after eating and cleaning up the dishes, top golf was suggested by none other then chris sturniolo. his love for the activity was one that you’d never understand, but you went nonetheless.

a few rounds went by before you inevitably realized you’d never win against those three so you took over vlogging for them instead. the camera pointed at nick as he took his swing. “ohhh well that was definitely something.” you said from behind the camera. nick was far enough away that he couldn’t hear your comment, but you’d definitely get shit for it while he edited. the two boys to you left of a kick out of it though.

matt and chris broke out into laughter catching the attention of nick. “what are you two fuckers laughing about? try to do better.” he said, giving them attitude. you held back your laugh as nick sat to the right of you.

for entertainment purposes (and also to annoy him) you started narrating everything matt did. “and… matt sturniolo picks up his golf club. he waves it in front of the sensor. he gets his golf ball. he gets ready to hit. is it going to be good ladies, gentleman, and nonbinaries? we’ll see. and he hits, and it’s…… not as good as nicks shot.” matt side eyes you as chris starts laughing uncontrollably. he falls into your side sending you and the camera to the right into nick.

nick takes the camera from you since your posture has been infiltrated by chris’s body. chris is still laughing when matt gets back to the seats, so like any brother would, matt slaps him upside the head. chris groans as he pokes your shoulder. you’re conversation with nick gets cut off when you look over at him. “matt hit me” chris says with a childish tone. “okay and what do you want me to do about it babe? i’m not your mother. hit him back. i don’t fucking know” you say with a laugh.

the game quickly comes to an end with matt coming out in first place. the four of you decide to call it a night. and start walking back to the van.

when you guys finally got to the car nick started to outrow the video. “alright guys that’s it for this weeks vlog thank you so much for watching” he turned the camera towards the front of the car as you leaned over chris’s shoulder.

“chris can you please play 34+35 remix for nick and i.”

“no y/n” “absolutely not”

and with that the video concluded.

an: i didn’t have much motivation to write the past couple of days but i hope y’all enjoy this 🤍

[darknight3904]

𝘐𝘴 𝘐𝘵 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘠𝘦𝘵?

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘺.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Logan dislikes December. He always has. From the over priced gifts to the over played music, who could forget the biting cold. He hated it all. One of the things he hated most had to be some of the desserts people tried to pass off as edible.

"Get that out of my face." He growls as you try to feed him a forkful of something Al made

"One taste, Logan." You groan

"Don't like fruitcake. Makes me sick." He grumbles, "You eat it."

"But what if she screwed it up. Like those cookies she made that she used salt instead of sugar in?" You pout

"So I'm your guinea pig?" He asks with a sigh

"No! You're my loving boyfriend who will try Al's cooking for me."

"Nice try, bub." Logan takes the fork from your hands and set it back down on the plate, "I'm not dying of food poisoning."

You scoff, like food poisoning would be the thing to take him out.

"Hey, do we have any more lights? I think this strand is broken." Laura asks as she digs through boxes of decorations

"Uhh...I think we had a few more strands somewhere." You say, leaving Logan's side to help the girl with her decoration.

For whatever reason, you and Laura had insisted on not only buying an enormous tree but also that the entire apartment needed to look like an elf threw up in it. Odd little decorations had accumulated in every spare surface of the house. Even Logan's favorite coffee mug had been replaced by a Santa-shaped one that Wade had found at some store. He was pretty sure he was living in a nightmare.

"Do you think he's still scowling over the fruitcake?" You ask

"Probably. I bet his face is doing that dumb thing where it-"

"You two know I can hear you, right?" Logan asked, entering the living room and plopping down on the couch

"If you're not going to eat, can't you help?" You ask

"Help with what?" He sighs

You toss a big ball of tangled-up lights for the tree into his lap. Yes, this really was a nightmare he was stuck in.

Another issue Logan had was gift-giving. Not because he didn't think people deserved gifts, but he never knew what to buy. He'd been alive for nearly 200 Christmases and he still struggled with gift-giving. How's that for bad luck?

He already had something for nearly everyone in his life. Al was getting a container of that hair stuff she liked, Wade and Vanessa were getting matching Hello Kitty sweatshirts, hell he even found a toy for Mary sitting in a discount bin at the grocery store. Now, the two biggest struggles in his life, You and Laura.

Laura had asked for new games for her Switch but Logan had a suspicion you bought them already. So, here he was standing in a Macy's in the Young Women's section, hoping something would catch his eye for the teen in his life. Most of the clothes were either ugly or not her style.

Holy shit, there was no way that qualified as a top. Logan wouldn't let Laura two steps out the door in something like that. That had to be an undershirt or something...right?

An ugly sweater catches his eye. Perhaps he could get her a gag gift. There was a sweater with an overweight cow drinking beer. That seemed decent.

"Excuse me, son. I need to get by."

Logan glances down to see a little old lady pushing a shopping cart. He steps to the side and easily lets her slide past.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He blurts out to her

"Of course!" She smiled

"I got this teen girl at home. I need gift ideas." He sighs, "She's not the girliest and I can't figure it out."

The woman stands there for a second and thinks it over. A small snap of her wrinkled fingers cut through the air.

"How about shoes? Girly girl or not, every young girl likes a new pair of shoes every once in a while."

Logan thought about it, what shoes did Laura even wear? Usually, she was in that black pair of boots. Surely this huge store had something like that.

"Sounds perfect." He nods, "Do you have any ideas for my girl?"

"Oh well, what does she like?" The woman asks

What do you like? He swears he knows yet his brain is empty right now. You like him, that's for sure, "She likes me. I think"

"You're a bit empty-headed, aren't you?" The woman chuckles

Logan slowly nodded in agreement, normally an insult like that would have him simmering but he couldn't fight this old woman. She looked like she was 90.

"Well, when I was young, I always liked receiving a nice pair of pajamas. Or, a candle that smells like cookies. Honestly, I still like getting those things. One of my favorite things though to get was a day of peace and quiet. I used to tell my husband Howard to clean the house and take the kids out in the snow so I could take a long bath and read a book."

Logan thanks the woman, who he learns her name is Darlene, and goes off to find a pair of boots for Laura. He guesses on the size and shoves the gift receipt in the box just in case. He feels a bit unsuccessful as he walks back to the apartment he shares with Laura and you. He had one day left. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and you had wanted to bake cookies and watch movies all day.

He stashed the gifts under the bed, making a mental note to wrap them tonight after you passed out in bed. He tossed the idea around his brain of just giving himself as a gift to you, he'd like that if you did that for him. Honestly, it was the perfect gift for him. Of course, it seemed lamer coming from him now since he had done that for your birthday. Sure, the sex had been great but he wanted to give you something better.

Darlene had suggested pajamas but all you ever wore were his t-shirts to bed, that or nothing. You already had a huge collection of candles, and Laura really wasn't that chaotic so he didn't see any need to keep her away from you.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

The loud slam of the front door has him groaning. You were back from work, and he was still empty-handed in the gift department.

"How was work?" Laura asks

"Good. I gave Matt his gift early since he is driving to his parent's house for the next few days. Oh! I also saw the cutest kitten in that Petshop's window. An itty bitty orange one, looked like he was a few weeks old." You sigh dreamily

Logan officially had an idea. Perhaps it was a bad one, cats never did like him. Oh, fuck it, it beats not having a gift.

The next day, he sets out early. Laura is still snoring in her bed and you've gone off to help Vanessa with something. It's the perfect time to sneak a cat into the apartment.

The pet store is just opening as he arrives. The single employee looks like he'd rather be anywhere else as he welcomes Logan to the store with a monotone voice. So much for the Christmas spirit.

"Hey, there was an orange kitten here. Where is it?" Logan asked looking around an empty cage that was labeled Cats

"What?" The guy asked, not listening

"The orange kitten." Logan huffs, "I want to buy him."

"Oh, he was sold last night. Some lady came in, said her kids wanted a cat for Christmas." The guy says

"What?" Logan asks

"He's gone, man." The guy snorts

"Well, when do you get more?" Logan asks he can feel his blood pressure rising but he took a deep breath.

"More what?" The guy asks dumbly

"Cats! When do you get more fucking cats?!" Logan angrily slams his hand on the counter, "I need one for my girl. Any color I don't give a shit!"

"Oh, not for a while. Probably after the new year. The holiday season, those kittens go fast." The guy shrugs, "The shelters don't really give us too many at a time anyway."

Logan wipes a hand over his face with a groan, "You're really unfuckinghelpful."

Back outside, Logan's legs carry him to the bar he always went to when he was stressed. Two glasses of whiskey deep he's still giftless. It was starting to look like he was going to be the gift. Maybe he could borrow that giant bow Wade had, wrap it around his waist, and surprise you. He was so fucking lame.

Logan stumbles back out onto the sidewalk. Thoroughly drunk, he thinks about hiding in Wade and Al's apartment until this Christmas is over. Seriously, is it New Year's yet? He was losing his damn mind over this entire month.

Down a back alleyway, he pukes into a dumpster. He might've overdone it this time. How long was he even at the bar? You were so going to chew into him about this. A loud crash behind him had him jumping. He spins around, ready for some fight. Instead, little pawprints in the snow catch his eye. They lead to the smallest drain pipe Logan's ever seen. He kneels down, feeling the snow soak into his pants as he peers into the pipe. A little black and white kitten with yellow eyes stares back at him.

Maybe he wasn't entirely fucked this Christmas after all.

"Hey, bub." He greets the kitten, "Wanna c'mon out?"

He sticks a finger into the drain pipe and recoils when the kitten slices it open with a claw.

"Motherfucker!" He curses at the sudden, unexpected pain. The cat hisses from inside the pipe and Logan groans.

He sticks his face closer to the pipe and the kitten backs up a few small steps.

"Listen here, you little shit stain. You're going to save my ass tomorrow morning, so get out here. Or so help me I'll- "

The animal mockingly meows in his face.

A can of tuna from the corner store, and multiple scratches later, Logan is victorious. The black and white kitten has been secured. Logan has it tightly bundled up in his jacket, in an effort to not only keep it warm but also keep it from scratching his eyes out.

When he reaches the apartment, he pushes the door open and calls your name. Lucky for him, you're still out with Vanessa. He enters the bathroom and shuts it behind him.

"Bath time you little monster. I can't have you stinking tomorrow up."

The kitten, despite it's size is elusively strong. It wiggles out of Logan's grasp multiple times and somehow manages to have his entire shirt soaked from the water that he's filled the sink with.

"It's warm water. Just gotta rinse the soap off." He reasons with the animal as it scratches at the door.

"Is someone in here?" Laura's voice calls

"Yeah, It's me. Bathroom!" He yells back

The bathroom door swings open just as he snatches the kitten back up and Laura stares at him in bewilderment.

"What are you doing? Is that a cat?"

"No, he's the devil. Help me rinse it." Logan huffs

To his dismay, Laura is able to get the cat to stay relatively still under the running water as she rinses the soap off.

"Where did you find a kitten? That local pet store is sold out." She says

"You know that bar a few blocks away?" He asks

"The one you go to when you stress drink?" Laura asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion

Logan shoots her a look but nods, " I found him in a drain pipe nearby."

Laura coos down at the little animal as she wraps a big towel around it.

"What's its name?" She asks as she dries it off

"I dunno. Frank?" He shrugs sitting down on the edge of the tub

"Not everything can be named Frank," Laura judges him

"Alright, fine." He huffs, and a wreath that you hung on the bathroom door catches his eye. Jingle bells that gleam in the light are decorated with holly and berries adorn the wreath.

"Jingle. Or maybe Bell." He says staring at the wet kitten who seems hypnotized by Laura.

"Sounds good to me." She smiles at the kitten who meows back, "Hello, Jingle."

Logan sighs in relief and stands up, "Hide Jingle in your room."

"Where are you going?" Laura asks as he exits the bathroom

"Jingle needs a place to shit. We need cat stuff."

The next day, Logan is woken up by you gently kissing his neck.

"Morning." He mumbles

"Good morning." You smile, "It's Christmas."

He nods with a small grin.

"C'mon time to get up." You huff and stand up to pull at his arm

"What are you five?" He groans as you fail to move him

"Yes. Now get up."

Presents opened and a million pictures taken, Logan feels even more tired than when he went to bed last night.

To his glee, Laura loves the boots, and he's even managed to get the right size. Darlene as it turns out is full of good ideas.

"Last one." He says to you, "Put your hands out and close your eyes."

You give him a look like he's about to prank you.

"Wade put a cicada in your hands one time and now you distrust everyone?" He asks

"Yes. That was the scariest moment of my life." You affirm

"Just shut your eyes." Logan huffs

He has somehow gotten Jingle to stay in a little basket he found in the closet and he gingerly places it into your hands. The kitten shifts and nearly tips the basket over as you open your eyes.

"Logan!" You gasp, looking between him and the black-and-white fuzz ball.

"Like it? That orange one was gone when I got to the store. But I-"

You're jumping off the couch and tossing your arms around his broad shoulders. Jingle still sitting in his basket.

"I love him." You smile, leaning in for a kiss

"Good. You have no idea what I went through to get him for you." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, aware that Laura is watching and just a sentence away from teasing him.

"What's his name?" You ask as he lets you go, "Or are you a girl?"

Logan hadn't bothered to check as he shrugs and you pick the kitten up, lifting it's little tail up.

"A boy...I think" You say

"We were going with Jingle." He says looking at Laura who nods, "But you can change it."

"I think that's perfect." You smile, petting the animal's head.

Luckily this cat likes you a lot more than it liked him yesterday. Logan's eyes narrow at the way the cat stares at him, what was this animal's deal?

"So how'd you get him?" You ask curiously

"Would you believe me if I said I nicely talked to him and then let him follow me home?"

"No, not in a thousand years."

Logan chuckles as you smile back at him. Alright, maybe the holidays aren't so bad. He still thinks New Years could come quicker though.

Next Extra

I was feeling like I needed Christmas when I wrote this. Fun fact, originally I was going to have Logan tell the reader he loved them with a kitten at Christmas. Scrapped that for the scene in the yard at the school. :)

Also, I've gotten a couple of anons sliding into my inbox asking if I'm doing kinktober or anything like that. I am not unfortunately as I have a busy college schedule that is somehow getting even busier... that being said I do still plan to write just not on a daily basis.

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[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:09 pm]

(cw: parents!au)

Every parent knew what silence meant. Silence meant some huge mess was being made, someone was hiding, being mischievous, general mayhem being had. This was especially true in your home with your daughter and 3 cats. It was never this quiet in your house with the four—five troublemakers in your house. It couldn’t be the main troublemaker because he was sitting right next to you, fully invested in a a reality tv show.

“Jaemin, listen,” You said quietly while you muted the tv.

He looked at you quizzically, “I don’t hear anything… what could she be doing now?”

“It’s not her nap time yet, I have a very bad feeling about this,” you replied nervously.

Your daughter had a sweet face, she was nice and friendly in public. She always waved at strangers with a huge smile on her face. She knew to stay by your side when she wasn’t sitting in a shopping cart. She very rarely threw tantrums, a perfect little angel. People had even told you so.

In the comfort of your home on the other hand, she was hyperactive and loud. She wreaked havoc on the daily. And the cats were either right her side or far, far away from her. There was no in between. When the cats decided she was being too much your daughter would try to climb their scratching posts to reach them or pull on their tails. The poor animals. When they decided to help her the house was loud, something got destroyed, scratched, or simply broken.

The last time the 4 of them had joined forces you needed to buy a new bookshelf for the living room with all new frames for the pictures that filled up some empty spaces on the shelves.

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes,” Jaemin offered. You rolled your eyes but complied. Softly hitting your fist against the palm of your hand. One paper and one rock, you lost.

“Wish me luck please, and have your credit card ready to shop. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, standing from the couch and walking toward your daughter’s room, but not without pouting and sending pleasing looks to your husband.

You tiptoed quietly to her open door and took a peek inside. Oh good, she was playing with her baby dolls. Wait, since when were they covered in fur?

You ran back to the living room whisper yelling, “Honey, you have to come see what your daughter is doing!”

Jaemin tilted his head back and shut his eyes, “why is she only my daughter when she’s being naughty?”

“It’s not even that bad, no new furniture. Just come see!” You tugged on his arm until he was up and quietly sneaking behind you.

You both peeked into the open door and watched as your daughter swaddled up one of the cats, Luke. And he liked it! He was purring and nuzzling into your daughters small and unusually gentle hands. “Ok baby! It’s time for a nap!” She told the cat before placing him in her toy bassinet. The poor doll who it belonged to could be seen face down under her bed.

“And for the other baby, it’s lunch! Time for your bottle,” she told Luna, picking up the cat and holding her like a newborn while holding a toy bottle to the cat’s mouth. And poor Lucy was sitting on a doll bed with a bonnet tied below her chin, but she looked unbothered.

“I think the cats… like it?” Jaemin whispered in confusion.

You looked at him, “weirdly enough, I think they do too.”

You and Jaemin continued to watch the four of them play and interact. They were all calm and playing happily, until, she turned and caught sight of you.

She bounded over to you and jumped into your arms, knocking the wind out of you.

“I’m practicing!” She smiled brightly.

“What are you practicing for, baby?” You asked her, moving some hair out of her face.

“Daddy said he’s going to get me a baby brother! So I have to practice being a good big sister!” She smiled, stating it like it was obvious.

Your fave dropped, looking at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow, “did your dad say that? That’s news to me. What else did he tell you, baby?”

Jaemin’s face dropped and your daughter began spilling all their secrets. How he always bought her candy before ballet, they sometimes snuck some ice cream together after you were asleep, Jaemin put sugar in her cereal, and how he promised her new toys if she didn’t mention anything about a new sibling. “Do I still get my toys daddy?”

“Uh! No! She would not be getting any new toys!”Jaemin yelled in his mind.

“You can ask daddy later, he’s about to be in very big trouble.”

[lady06reaper]

Requests you ask for 👀.

I shall give. Viking x Reader

Where said character(s) react to their wife having to defend their children from a bear/forest creature. And easily defeating it. Going from complete deadly killer to momma bear who's hugging her sweet children close.

Love a feral momma bear. - marshmellow

So I really only see this prompt as Bjorn and Ubbe with the kid part BUT since Ivar has a special place in my heart I'll write him with kids as well

HOW THE RAGNARSONS REACT TO YOU FENDING OFF A CRITTER TO SAVE YOUR CHILDREN

THIS IS THE LOOK YOU GET YOU AND YOU CHILDREN ARE STRUGGLING TO HAUL A BEAR CARCASS TO KATTEGAT

LIKE WHAT!?

Bjorn was definitely worried, like why was his beloved and their children carrying a dead bear? Are yall alright?!

"Wife! Are you okay? What happened?" Bjorn rose from his seat on the porch and ran over to you and your kin.

You huffed and threw the bear's head and front arms down to the ground, your kids followed suit and laid down on the ground with the dead bear.

"What happened, Bjorn, is that we were hunting and this foul, loathsome, lowlife, bear thought he could harm us. Jokes on it, we're having a feast tonight!" You roared so all of Kattegat could hear you, everyone around cheered in delight.

"That is quite a feat Y/N," Bjorn looked down at the bear and got a thought. He took your hand and led you up on the porch of the great hall, your children followed their dad up there with you. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my wife once more as Y/N Bear-Killer!" Bjorn raised your hand up with his as everyone celebrated and congratulated you. Your kids hugged your legs as their congratulations to you, you bent down and embraced them. Everyone, including the woodland critters, knew now not to mess with you, especially your children.

Out of the corner of Ubbe's eye he saw you and your children hauling a moose in a pull wagon... or at least trying to

First of all, you didn't have the pull wagon when you left so when did you come back and grab it?

Second, WHERE THE HELL DID THE DEAD MOOSE COME FROM?!

He had to do a double take on it to make sure it wasn't an illusion by the Trickster God Loki

"Love! What happened? Are you and the children alright?" You sighed and dropped the handles to the cart, the moose slid off of it to the ground. Your children were small enough to sit in the moose's antler, so sit they did, tired from helping their momma.

"I'm fine, nothing but a long soak with herbs won't fix. But this here moose is obviously not alright for it is dead, a punishment for attempting to hurt us," You stretched out your sore and tired muscles, that soak was really starting to sound good.

"Oh my brave, yet crazy wife, I'm glad you are alright, but when did you get the pull cart?"

"Oh that? We borrowed it from a farmer nearby, by the time we would've came here and back to the carcass it would've been already claimed by the wolves," you shrugged as if it was self-explanatory. You beckoned your kids over to you by kneeling and opening your arms, they ran towards you and as soon as they reached you, you picked them up in your arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your very strong children and I would like a bath and a nap. Go ahead and clean the moose, we feast tonight."

You turned on your heel and walked towards the long house, leaving a shocked Ubbe staring at your back. Did all of that really just happen?

I feel like Ivar would get horny if he knew you took down a huge ass wolf (which explains the second pic)

like the first one is "Wow, my wife took down that wolf, who's almost as big as Fenrir? Damn that's hot"

The wolf slung across your shoulders was heavy, but you had no other means of carrying it, and the pelt would make a nice cloak or blanket for your kin. You walked through Kattegat with your child in tow, they were concerned for your wellbeing, but you assured them you were fine. Ivar watched as you hauled the wolf up to the long house, not bothering to get up knowing you were as strong as Freyja. You dropped the wolf at his feet and fell into his open arms and lap.

" It seems you had an eventful hunt, love," Ivar wrapped his arms around your waist, but before he could get comfortable your child crawled up into your lap, it's a good thing Ivar can't feel your combined weight, only the presence.

"Yes, indeed we did, what do you think little one? Should we use the pelt as a blanket, or turn it into a cloak?" The child pondered before saying their answer. "Blanket it is then," you kissed their forehead and let them go. "Now run along and go get Uncle Bjorn, he'll help you turn the wolf into a nice blanket." You smiled as they slid down Ivars legs and ran to get Bjorn.

"Are you alright my love?" Ivar looked over your upper body as he rubbed circles into your lower back.

"Yes, husband, nothing like a good back massage won't fix," you leaned into his touch, being comforted by Ivar was definitely something you needed right now. Ivar gave you a mischievous look through his eyelashes.

"Instead of a massage," he started. "How about I break your back?"

[krypticcafe]

Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.

Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys

Love your writing so much ❤️

As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro

warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read

a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?

synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.

Part Two is now up!

"I'll be back before they know it."

Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.

No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.

It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.

By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.

Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!

Click!

Clickclickclick!

Shit.

Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.

Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.

"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."

The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.

Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.

"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"

"..."

"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"

"Affirmative."

"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"

"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.

"Ghost?"

Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.

"You alright, L.T?"

"Solid, just need a talk with Price."

"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.

"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."

Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.

He didn't want to wonder.

"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.

"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.

With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.

Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."

As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.

"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.

"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.

Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."

"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.

"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.

"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.

Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.

"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.

"We give them hell."

[rottiens]

nocturne, gojō satoru

summary. you feel strange, something that had never happened in Satoru’s presence before. He had never made you feel anything more than comfort, confidence and respect, but now the air is slowly charged with a heavy mist that begins to seep through your skin, weighs on your lungs and makes your beats detonate just a little. You can't know what it is but there's something different about tonight.

tags. (18+), touch starved fem!reader, size difference, dubcon, manipulation, praise kink, reader is geto’s “ex”, gojo a little gay/bi (the usual), just the tip, cum eating, thigh job.

WC. 10.8K — read on ao3

notes. ok, first of all, I have the hc that gojo dances very well (I have zero proof, zero doubt). Second, this is inspired by my under my skin series with geto, writing the last chapter made me think about the people geto left behind when he left jujutsu tech and how they handled those feelings and this was born (you don't need to read that series at all to understand this), third; this came out darker than I had thought and I hope you still love me as much as I love feral gojo

You like to think that nothing has changed since he left. After all, the sun still shines just as brightly, the rain still drenches even the remotest corner of Tokyo, you keep drinking tea without a spoonful of sugar and you still attend Jujutsu Tech like the obedient little sheep you are (his words).

You still work for the higher-ups despite disagreeing with them all the time. You keep improving yourself as a sorceress, completing mission after mission and sending money to your parents every end of the month so they can finish paying off the house and maybe after all the only thing that has changed is that you now have your own apartment, which well, officially will be yours in about two more months when you finish paying off the loan. You are surrounded by things that you can proudly say belong to you and that you were able to buy for yourself, things that you may not need like a vase of candy that you keep in the kitchen for when Satoru is visiting or the cotton candy flavored lip balm that you are currently entertaining yourself with while waiting for the kettle to start squeaking.

The clock-like cat in the background meows at 1:56AM, yet another item Satoru threw in the shopping cart when he helped you get the essentials you needed to furnish your apartment a couple of years ago. It's something you didn't need because you're never home to look at the time or that's what you have your phone for, and after all you were never much of a cat lover. However when Satoru was looking at you over the top of his glasses and those bright eyes were begging you, it was almost impossible for you to say no to him.

Though, how could you? Satoru has been the only friend you've kept after so long, the only one who knows all the pain you've gone through in silence and the only one who was there with you the day Suguru left Jujutsu Tech. Truth be told, you were never that close to Satoru back then, you two never managed to talk that much except for when you would go out in a group and Ieiri would invite you downtown to go with them to eat, shop or drink sake, the memories make you sigh heavily. An ironic laugh crosses your chest along with a bitter memory of those days where you kept looking at Suguru from the other side of the table, every time his eyes met yours you were forced to look away, to run away from that heavy feeling that burned your chest and to ignore the fact that every time he laughed his knee met yours. You remember his cold fingers under the table touching your knee, touching your shoulder when he turned to tell you something funny. 

The clock strikes 2:03AM, the exact moment when the kettle starts to squeak and forces you to get up from your stool and shuffle your bare feet across the tiles to the stove. You turn it off and the smoke leaving the kettle makes you focus again on that day... The day when The High-ups decided that Suguru Geto was officially enemy of the sorcerers and was now considered a curse that needed to be executed, that day Satoru was there too. It was the first time you saw him so quiet, without that sarcastic laughter that characterized him filling the room, the same silence that filled the others rested even heavier on Satoru's head and yours, it was as if a heavy black cloud began to rain down on your heads.

Satoru was silent but his clenched fists spoke for him, shaking on the table. White knuckles and thick veins were marked on the backs of his hands and when you looked up into his face he was glaring at you, that icy stare still makes your back bristle every time you remember it. His nose flaps were dilated and his sharp jaw was clenched. You on the other hand were shivering, as if the gray cloud above your head was actually starting to rain, as if the drops were real and together with Satoru's gaze it was raining on your body.

You never told anyone, not Satoru, not even Ieiri, but deep down you blame yourself for never noticing how he was slowly drifting away from you, how he was losing himself. In the middle of the nights when you talked lying on his bed, while he smoked and passed you the cigarette and asked you about the origin of the curses, when he asked what you thought would be the solution for a world without curses are clues that should have raised alarms in your head, yet you could never connect the dots of the red alerts that screamed to you that the person you were in love with could be about to fall into the abyss.

You lie to yourself, when you fix your hair every morning and put on the spotless uniform next to the plastic smile you have become so used to wearing, you lie to yourself and tell you that everything is fine, that even though you haven't known where he is for four years, even though you hear the trail of death he leaves in his wake, you are fine, everything is fine, the reflection in the mirror smiles back at you and repeats the same thing. You're glad you have a roof to live under, a place to work, friends to worry about, it's okay if you couldn't save one of them after all, right? It's not your fault. The important thing is that you are doing the right thing, that you are saving dozens of innocents, right? 

You just pray every day, to whatever higher being might be listening to you not to be the one to find him, not to be the one to confront him... because if that day were to come, you...

Your phone chimes with a notification and the fact takes you so abruptly by surprise that the teacup you're holding slips and shatters to pieces on the floor, splashes of hot chamomile drops burn on your bare feet and exposed legs, you groan in pain and curse walking away to pick up the phone resting on the counter, just in time to receive another message.

S. Gojō: Knock knock, silly

S. Gojō: I'm outside

Sent at 2:21AM, he's never visited you this late. Usually Satoru would show up suddenly in the nights because he couldn't sleep, midnight, eleven, ten but he always left after two hours of drinking tea and talking about anything. Other times he would text you very late in the dawn because he woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, then he would find you awake because you couldn't sleep either and both of you would stay up late talking and then he would always be late the next day for his classes.

But today was unusual... your phone vibrates with another notification. 

S. Gojō: Don't make me break the door, I can feel your cursed energy from in here :p

You must have been too deep in thought not to notice the strong smell of his cursed energy coming through the door, the sensation even through the walls tingles your skin.

You flee the kitchen scene with your feet marking wet footprints all over the floor, on your way to the front door you stop in the small living room to turn on the lights and give a little more life to the gloomy place. Your footsteps stop right in front of the frame, your fingers curl around the knob and you take a deep exhale that allows you to search for the plastic smile to put on your face, a smile that manages to mask how exhausted you were feeling tonight. Of all the nights, this might have been his worst choice to come visit you.

"Hey—" The creation of your fake smile falls halfway off. You don't remember the last time you'd seen Satoru out of uniform, or at least dressed so formally, just to come see you? But seeing him in casual clothes caused the wheels in your brain to stop working just a little. "What—"

He chuckles, adjusting the sunglasses better on the bridge of his nose. "They canceled the mission to Kyoto." He pauses to tap twice on the carry-on suitcase dragging near his feet that you barely notice. "So I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing."

That was it? "You always dress like that for all your missions?" Now he was smiling, almost looking amused at your reaction. "What's wrong with my clothes?" Nothing! That was the point, rather than a mission, he looked like he was dressed for a date. 

He was wearing a black synthetic jacket that came down to his wrists along with a shirt the color of his eyes underneath, the two buttons near his collarbones open revealing a flash of his chest. Those oval sunglasses that couldn't be missed and tight black pants that matched the shiny loafers. Without the uniform he even looked taller, he smelled like he just got out of the shower, a kind of icy mint where you are forced to inhale while blinking slowly.

"Nothing," you comment after you've examined him up and down. You think you were subtle enough that he didn't notice, but you're sure he did anyway.

"May I come in?" he still keeps a smile on his words.

You step aside without adding something else that sinks you into a debate you can't get out of. You wait patiently for the wheels of the mini suitcase to cross the threshold of the door and for Satoru to give you the space to close it behind you.

"Want some tea?" you cross past him to head for the kitchen, his footsteps following your trail.

"Yeah, tell me you have sugar." You want to fight him, to tell him that chamomile tea doesn't really have sugar in it because it's a sleeping tea, but you know you'd just be wasting your time so you end up pointing your finger at one of the shelves instead.

"It's right where—"

"Wow!" His hands suddenly squeeze your waist and make you stop, you stutter his name in confusion. His fingers burn against the flesh your pajamas fail to cover and he pulls you back. "What happened?" he says low behind you. You notice how his hands look squeezing you and then look at the puddle at your feet along with pieces of pottery strewn in front of the sink.

"Your text message, you scared me."

"So it was my fault, hm?" you can guess the smirk  in his tone. "It's okay, I always take care of my messes."

Satoru gently pushes you aside, then asks you to sit on one of the stools while he takes care of picking up the pieces because he's afraid you might cut yourself in the process. He further alleges that you are barefoot. 

"My hero," you say, exaggerating your voice for a louder one. This time Satoru laughs and it rubs off on you. He takes several paper towels and squats down spreading his knees as far apart as he can to soak all the paper while you stare at him silently, it's impossible not to think how big he is if you compare him to your kitchen space or if you compare him to any other object in your apartment really.

"I know, I know. What would you do without me, huh?" he looks up at you from below and you catch a glint of the blue in his eyes before he turns his attention back to the floor, focusing now on picking up the broken pieces and carrying each one to the trash can behind you.

"Sooo." You exaggeratedly lengthen the word until he's back in your field of vision, rummaging through your cabinets effortlessly as if he owns the floor.

"So?" He walks toward you with two mugs that he places side by side. Then he turns around to pick up the teapot and starts pouring the hot liquid.

"Do you always go on your missions like this?"

"Like this how?" Oh, he knows very well what you meant. Like this, you want to tell him, but you know it would only serve to boost his annoying ego a little more. "Tell me when to stop," he asks you, starting to empty the hot liquid into the cup, the smell of chamomile and cinnamon wafting up towards your nose. 

"That's good," you tell him a few inches before the infusion touches the rim and you bring it to your mouth almost instantly. "And I mean like this," you point his body up and down with your free hand, then sip slowly, "so elegant."

"What do you mean? This is me in my regular clothes, this is how I always look." Satoru finishes filling his cup and puts at least six sugar cubes in it before speaking again. "Let's go to the couch." You just shake your head and follow the path he traces because you're sure you're going to be more comfortable on the L-shaped couch he helped you pick out (which is why he loves it so much), conventionally too big for your living room space, but big enough for Satoru to spread his legs and arms on the back and coo like a pleased kitten. "Today's mission was special..." He answers a question you'd forgotten about and takes the first sip of his tea. 

"Hm?" you inquire, curiously looking for more information. Now that you're sitting up, the satin fabric of your shorts rides up a few inches over your thighs and in a vain attempt to pull it down just a little, you find him peering out of the corner of your eye. 

"It was someone... important." You feel his eyes on your thighs, he tries to disguise it but doesn't try very hard either. "I had to escort him somewhere." 

"It had to be someone important to be escorted by the strongest." This time he's the one cooing, hesitant. You know there are missions you can't divulge too much about or you might get in trouble, and even for someone like Satoru Gojo who giving his tongue a life of its own has never been a problem, him being quiet now should be enough to make you desist on the subject or maybe he's just too distracted going back to your legs again and again. You clear your throat. "I-"

"Mind if I turn out the light?" you blink slowly in his direction. "My eyes," he clarifies something that should be obvious to you. An Oh louder than it should makes your throat vibrate. 

"Sure." 

"I just want to take a break from the sunglasses for a while." 

"Sure, yeah." 

Satoru first sets the cup down on the small table in front of the couch, then gets up and walks over and through the various objects in your living room until he reaches the switch. You try not to notice his body as he does so, his long legs or how wide his shoulders look as he walks back towards the couch making the place his catwalk, the height and appearances have always made him look like a model in your eyes, a comment you want to make but your coherent side makes you bite your tongue, you're still too awake for that. 

You try to hide that it doesn't affect you when he takes off his jacket and settles back on the sofa with his mug in hand, staring at you.

"Better?" You clear your throat again, feeling it irritably dry.

"Yeah. I have been using them all day and the bright light sometimes ends up bothering me.” The conversation makes you look at his eyes, even in the midst of the darkness that surrounds you, you can see them shine.

“I'm sorry,” you say, but you don't know exactly what you're apologizing for. Uncomfortable and overheated, you decide to take another long sip of the infusion.

It's strange, you feel strange, something that had never happened in Satoru's presence before. He had never made you feel anything more than comfort, confidence and respect, but now the air is slowly charged with a heavy mist that, although you cannot see, begins to seep through your skin, through your pores, weighs on your lungs and makes your beats detonate just a little. You can't know what it is but there's something different about tonight.

"What about you?" Satoru murmurs with his mouth on the cup, his sweet voice echoing among the ceramics and the way he speaks seems like he's telling a little boy a secret. "Haven't you been on missions in a long time?"

"I don't usually take so many important missions, no." You didn't need to give him any more details because you're sure he knew… that your last name wasn't as well known as his or the Zenins, that you weren't as strong compared to other sorcerers, and that you didn't normally leave town, unlike he.

"I remember when Suguru was here it wasn't like that." His name makes you stop breathing for a moment. Your fingers squeeze the semi-empty cup and your gaze escapes from his to focus on some point on the floor. "He always said how strong you were, how much he wanted to have you under his arm and show you what you weren't able to see for yourself, one day." Was he really saying all that about you? This time you go back to his face, on his expression, his half-closed eyes fixed on what was in front of him, it seemed that he was serious.

"He never told me that."

"I guess it wasn't necessary, was it?"Yes? You have always been a person who likes to hear what others think especially regarding their feelings, no matter how much their facts speak for them, you need to hear them say those three important words. "You guys were really close after all." Yes, Suguru and you were very close indeed. So close that sometimes he would rather study with you than with Satoru even though you were a year younger than them. You were so close that sometimes you slept together, he would listen to your secrets and he would babble about his.

“Gojo…” You scratch the back of your neck, massaging a tendon that tightens and pulls your nape toward the floor. You weren't sure if this was the topic you wanted to talk about tonight.

“Please, we are the same now. You don't have to treat me with such respect, Satoru it's okay." You leave the empty cup on the table before looking at him, a smile was waiting on his face that barely curved the corners of his mouth but there was something in all this that although it seemed innocent, it was not right, and while you pull down the fabric of your shorts you realize what it is.

"Satoru." You say his name for the first time in a long time and that makes the grin on his face widen, he tilts his head forward a bit showing you more of his eyes and invites you to continue. "I don't know if I want to talk about it right now."

You knew exactly what that was on your chest, tight, like a rope knot. It was guilt, because even after so many years you felt that you had to continue being faithful to a person who disappeared without giving you an explanation, guilt because you were seeing who his best friend was with different eyes. Because you were thinking of Satoru in a way that one friend wouldn't think of another.

"Do you still love him? Is that why you don't want to take on the important missions, are you afraid of running into him?" your tongue is heavy, your stomach sinks even deeper. Satoru wasn't looking at you, his attention was fixed on the unlit lamp at the other end of the couch. 

"Yes." It's all you can say, running from his expression to your legs. Not having enough strength to clarify which of the two questions you are answering, concentrating on the heating in your apartment, on how warm it feels to be there.

"Yeah..." He sighs, pausing for a long time. "Me too. I miss him, it's hard not to think about him sometimes." You can sense the melancholy in his voice, his cup crashing against the wood as soon as he finishes speaking, the silence and darkness in the room adding a bit more melodrama to the scene. Satoru splits his legs, spreads his thighs wide, and the mix of emotions inside you intensifies.

"He never contacted you again?" you ask desperately to occupy your mind. He shakes his head, still focused on the lifeless lamp. You? "No." 

And maybe it was better that way. To live in silence, to live hiding and filling the emptiness he left inside you with books and knowledge, with other people who look like him, with missions where you pray you never meet him face to face because the moment you did you wouldn't know exactly what to say or what to do, even though you know well what the orders are supposed to obey. 

You look at the lamp along with him wondering what he's thinking. Filling the gaps in your memory with banal conversations you two might be having right now, yet this didn't seem like one of the many times Satoru has come to your place to chat and drink.

"When was the last time you did something fun?" Out of the corner of your eye you see him rest his head on his shoulder and relax a little more on the couch. “Something that has nothing to do with work. Something you really enjoy.”

If you were honest... "I don't even remember."

He clicks his tongue and you look at him just in time to see him reach for something in his pocket. The blue light from the screen illuminates his face, the keyboard squeaks under his nice fingers, strands of hair stick to his forehead and the light is so bright it makes his eyelashes look like snowflakes. A soft melody begins to play, you're lost, you drop your head to the side along with a pout that makes him laugh, then he holds out his hand. 

"Dance with me."

“Gojo— no, no. I Can't." You laugh nervously, the heat rising from your cheeks to your chest. "I don't know how to dance." You confess quietly, more embarrassed to share that secret than you should.

"Okay, me neither." Liar, you'd definitely seen him dance before at teacher parties and maybe he wasn't a pro but he was good, he did that thing with his feet that was impossible to take your eyes off him when he was on the dance floor. "Come on." 

You chew your lower lip, exchanging glances between the hand that moves its fingers strangely in front of you and Satoru, who is waiting for you with a smile. No, don't, don't take his hand… You know he feels your icy damp fingers as his hand clings to yours and helps you up to cling to your chest. Your lungs empty and fill with him, his perfume, his natural scent, the faint cotton candy scent you manage to identify among the tangle of faint scents. The fact that he had deactivated his infinity so that you can touch him shoots adrenaline through your bloodstream, skin against skin. 

"Okay, what do I do?" You were laughing shyly again, allowing his fingers to take hold of your waist, fixing you close to him just as he wanted you.

"Just follow my footsteps." It was hard to follow him, keep your nerves in check and at the same time try to breathe.

"I'm going to step on you." You tease, his open palm descending to your lower back as the violins pick up, pulling you further into him. "Go—!"

"You're not going to step on me, we're fine. Put your hands on my shoulders." He instructs you. That meant having to leave his chest, stop yourself from looking at his collarbones and look into his eyes. "Like this." He does it for you, takes one of your wrists and delicately places it on one of his shoulders then returns to your waist, his ice-cold fingers a little further below your waist this time, you feel his fingertips brush against the elastic of your shorts, his nails barely scratching your skin. “This is my favorite part,” he says low in your ear, almost mischievous. And in the midst of the symphony of your blood rushing violently in your ears and the drum of your heart, you hear it. The violin had increased in speed which made you go faster, it was almost impossible to follow his turns, impossible not to step on him but this was something Satoru ignored, he allows your bare feet to step on him again and again and again, bringing behind these one apology from you after another.

Satoru was practically on top of you now, hugging you closer to him. His face hidden in your neck —which you appreciate because how could you look into his eyes and dance at the same time—, his lips on your skin, humming the melody of the instruments. His arms squeeze you, make you groan in surprise. Then he kisses your neck and that makes you aware of every little thing around you, the noise that the silence makes, how slowly his feet took you on the impromptu dance floor because the violins had decayed dramatically, you could clearly hear how quickly you were breathing with your mouth open, his arms gripping your waist make you feel small, you can tell how hot having him close is making you, the warmth of his body, how the tender fabric of his shirt felt crinkling against your exposed skin. Satoru kisses you again, this time near the ear.

“Gojo…” you call him, your hands pushing his shoulders in search of regaining your personal space, you needed it or you were going to faint.

"Satoru." He corrects you, breathing heavily into your ear. The warm breath makes your thighs rub against each other.

"Satoru." You repeat, he makes a growling sound. "I don't… think…"

"Do you think he will come back?" A phantom hand oppresses your chest, destroys your ribs to the rhythm of the dramatic melody with which the song continues that seems to never end. "Is that why you haven't been with anyone else?" Satoru leaves the comfort of your neck to look at you, his arms still tied behind your back. He has the look of a feline on his face, white locks falling across his forehead serving as curtains for those eyes that glow like neon lights. An iciness rests on your abdomen, as faint as the flutter of a butterfly.

The song stops abruptly, leaving you alone with the pounding of your heart, your stomach sinking with each breath you take.

“How do you know—” He snorts, his laugh sounding cruel, cutting your sentence off in mid-air.

"Have you?" you refuse to answer, you refuse to keep looking at him so you evade him and those eyes that seem to watch everything. You  think you have nowhere to go —literally, because his arms hold you prisoner—, wherever you look there he is. So you stare past his shoulder, past the baby blue of his shirt to the fresh coat of paint on your wall. "Look at me."

You refuse to do it and show him your vulnerability. Sinking deeper and deeper into that heavy, cold sensation that walks from your navel to your ribs, turning into a bitter cocktail of emotions that you don't know how to swallow. When you don't look at him, one of his hands goes to the back of your neck and forces you to do so, fixes your gaze on him, on his slightly half-open pink lips, then on his eyes and the bitter cocktail becomes digestible, clear....

"I've always had my eyes on you."

...So clear. Underneath the layers and layers of raw human emotions you could make out so clearly the primal fear, you wanted to run away from the almighty, hide from his intense gaze but you also feel guilt because inside you still waited for Suguru, because you still expected him to come back even after four years. Guilt because you still felt you had to remain faithful to someone who never asked you to be his girlfriend, to someone who never told you he loved you. You still want to stay faithful to a ghost. Shame, because you couldn't help that your body reacted so well to his closeness, you were hot in every corner of your body and underneath it all, you were aroused.

Your quick blinks took care of erasing the stupor you were in, protecting your tears from spilling over, why would you cry after all? If you never cried when he left, it wasn't time to cry now.

"What did you say?" You tell him in a shaky voice.

"Whenever you were looking at Suguru I was looking at you, watching you laugh, watching your eyes sparkle every time they met his." You see him move from your eyes to your lips. "Watching you fall in love with my best friend. But I don't blame you, I too wondered how his lips tasted."

"Satoru, I didn't—" You were dizzy, your guts in knots. Your frail fists push him again achieving the same result: him remaining motionless. "I don't think it's right that we..."

"He's gone." He says your name, the tone he uses is so ruthless, his voice sounds broken, hoarse and you can't help but shed a single tear that he tries to wipe away immediately, his thumb scrapes your cheek and the touch makes you close your eyes looking to escape from there, to escape the pain, the loneliness and the hundreds of emotions you shouldn't be feeling right now.

"You're his best friend," you say in a tired sigh, looking for him to see the logic to a situation that is obvious to you.

"Yeah." That's all he says. You see him approach you and your eyes snap open meeting his face bathed in darkness, the shadows of the room dancing across half of his face, it makes the features blur and stand out so much more at once. "But we haven't done anything, have we?" he says even closer to your mouth. "At least not yet."

Before you can protest, complain or bring any sense to his brain, Satoru was kissing you and all you can  feel for a long moment are his gentle, expert lips, kissing you frantically, forcing you to open wider to give him the space he needs to deepen the kiss. You try to push him away but any kind of physical force you try to exert on him is less than pathetic, your fists don't even faze him and as much as you try to run away, his hands are squeezing your forearms tightly forcing you to remain immobile.

After a while of struggling, of denying yourself the pleasure, you let him in. Satoru purrs reaching your tongue. You are clumsy at first but manage to keep up with him, melting into his rough grip that contrasts gently with the way his mouth caresses yours. His tongue drags your lower lip and that makes you moan in surprise, embarrassed your face boils and his teasing chuckle makes your whole body tighten.

When Satoru finally pulls away, it seems like an eternity has passed, every little corner of your body feels hot and unstable. Your lips tingle and your thighs tremble, you don't remember the last time you... actually, yes, you remembered very well.

He still stands close, with a smile you can glimpse cutting through the night. With slightly swollen lips, painted a pink a few shades more intense than before. As you struggled to get fresh air into your lungs, Satoru still maintained the same breathing rhythm as when he walked through your door.

"You really haven't been with anyone else,” he says, tasting his lips with his tongue.

"N-no, I..."

You didn't have to answer, it wasn't a question, you still looked to try to give him a logical explanation for the physiological reaction you were having but he was already smiling, much wider this time without actually showing his teeth. Satoru lets go of your arms and seems to widen on you, he seems taller, stronger, as if all this time he had been bending his knees so he could be completely at your eye level. Suddenly his hands were all over your crotch, squeezing your pussy above the fabric of your shorts, sinking deeper between your folds. The sticky puddle immediately stains the fabric, you feel it and you know he feels it so you slip away from his face paying more attention to the floor.

"No panties," he says loudly in a mocking tone. Your nails dig into his wrist, a futile attempt to make him stop.

"Satoru, please."

"Please what?" With the help of his fingers he strokes your slit up and down damaging your shorts with your arousal, the delicate fabric feels so good on your swollen clit, someone else's touch even with your pajamas in between is so good you can't help but moan, your nails digging a little deeper into his skin. "Please, keep going?" his caresses are barely perceptible now, toying very very slowly with your clit, your jaw drops to the floor. "Or Satoru, please stop?" He pats your pussy in a gentle slap as if trying to prove a point, your whole body arches falling forward towards him and Satoru welcomes you in a kind of strange embrace. "You have to use your words," he clarifies, his voice so much like a siren's song.

With your face in the middle of his chest he turns you into a shell that does nothing but tremble, a shell empty of all logical thoughts. All that comes to you is an explosion of emotions bombarding your senses, you are overstimulated with smells: you inhale with his hand on the back of your neck petting your hair, giving you time to clear your head. Your belly tingles because he smells so good, the icy mint mixes with a somewhat sweet manly perfume that invites you to sniff harder. His chest feels hard and pleasant at the same time giving you the security you've been lacking the last months, you want to hug him and cry while you let him take care of you, the heat emanating from him almost burns you, it seems impossible to you that he's so hot; your eyelids squeeze tighter making the pitch black take shapes: stars, constellations, random dots.

"If you're not going to decide, then I think I should give you space." He takes a step back and your brain has to force itself back to reality, you regain the unsteadiness you lost when you stopped touching him and take two strong steps backwards moving further away from him, even though the heater is still on, your whole body suddenly feels cold. You hug yourself to cover your erect nipples. "I'll leave you to rest and we can talk tomorrow."

Your tongue stays heavy and sticky, your teeth are biting it slowly as you watch him grab his jacket determined to leave.

"Don't go." You don't recognize your own voice.

"What? Sorry I didn't hear you."

"Please stay." You assumed he was smiling, you couldn't bring yourself to lift your head from the tip of his shiny shoes that are getting bigger as he approaches you again. His presence makes you feel  under some kind of spell, you inhale looking for the oxygen that was stolen from you, you feel weak, dizzy... and his long fingers grab your chin to make you look at him, then you confirm he was smirking, the corners of his mouth slightly raised towards the sky.

"Do you trust me?" You do. You'd be a fool not to. Your lips part to respond, but the height difference makes you clam up. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?" You know. "Go to the couch."

That's how you find yourself doing the next thing he asks, sliding your shorts off and placing your legs on the soft surface in an awkward V, exposing your wet pussy to a hungry gaze. In a way he reminds you of Suguru —the way he walks towards you brimming with confidence, the way he looks at you, the aura of superiority with which his height looms over you— and that makes you  feel more shame, more guilt, you want to hide your face but you know that would be much worse so you force yourself to watch him walk towards you and drop to his knees in the middle of your thighs. 

Satoru grabs your calves, your yelp in surprise. The soles of your feet are on his broad shoulders, you  feel the muscles there tense and stretch as he settles in, you watch him lick his lips and your pussy clenches under his nose. Without hands —because these are on your waist, walking shyly over your ribs—, he kisses your navel and your body contracts. Relax, he murmurs, kissing your skin, tickling you every time his pretty lips go down a couple of centimeters more. 

The waves of heat produced by his laughter go straight to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you were shivering under him, as if your body was freezing to death but on the contrary, your temples were wet with droplets of sweat, your back is hot and your hands are soaked, still you can't stop shivering. His nose brushes the short hairs on your mons pubis, then he kisses your clit hidden between your labia and with the help of his tongue he searches for it with his eyes closed, parting your soaked lips until he manages to make direct contact with what he craves so much. 

You don't know what to do with your hands, you want to leave them to the side of your body but they start to tremble, you want to take it into his short strands but you don't know if that would be something he would approve of. 

"More," he says. Satoru takes your hands and makes his words make sense, he helps you place your fingers under your knees, forcing you to open wider for him in an embarrassing position. "Keep your legs open, just like this." 

He mumbles something else between his teeth but you don't pay attention, his thumbs were spreading your lips further apart, uncovering more of your clit and the inspection gets your arousal spilling from your pussy to your thighs and from there to your ass. You were so wet, you could feel it touching the couch. You wanted him to do something, anything, if he kept looking at you like that you weren't going to be able to control yourself. 

"Stop it," you beg him, squeezing your eyes shut, the grip on your thighs weakening a little. 

"Let me look at you. You're soaking wet from just a couple of kisses..." The left one holds your pussy open, the thumb of the right then makes tight circles over your most sensitive spot and an electric current runs through your body. "That's cute." The thumb slides down to your slit, there it collects your juices and returns to the top where it drags them over your clit using them as a lubricant. "I wonder..." You feel his breath close to it, speaking so softly it feels like he's not even talking to you, your hips thrust upward. "Are you this wet because no one has touched you in years or is it just because it's me?" 

He doesn't give you time to answer, you don't even know if you'd be ready to. Suddenly his lips were locked on your clit, sucking roughly, making your legs slam over his head, the vibrations of his laughter going straight to your core. 

"Mhm no, stay wide open for me. I want to taste every last drop." You take a deep breath in search of silencing another moan. His hands on your legs forcing you to open them a second time.

It's been so long since another person touched you that his strokes seem to come in waves, forming with each moan a knot in your lower abdomen tighter and tighter, sharper and sharper. You couldn't form a single coherent thought other than a distant, welcoming white noise as Satoru devoured the feast that seemed to be your cunt, his soft tongue parting your slit and pressing hard enough on your throbbing clit. You open your eyes after a while, you blink looking up at the sky, the darkness you had grown so accustomed to is replaced by the dim lighting in your living room, the white noise turns into the wet and sloppy sounds of Satoru kissing your pussy and between long blinks you gasp—

"I'm close..."

Satoru stands up just a little to tease you and the sensation of not having his mouth near you is almost painful, you feel him shudder beneath your feet. "Already?" he asks without really expecting an answer, his open palm squeezing your clit mercilessly. The sudden electric touch makes you snap your eyes shut again, your eyelids fill with lightning and a cold current coils up your spine. "No— huh, I don't want you thinking about anyone else while I make you cum... open your eyes."

"That wasn't—! Ah." That wasn't what you were doing! That's what you mean, but his fingers were hitting your aching flesh a little too hard, emptying your lungs.

You are so very close to reaching that longed-for sensation but he stops. A coo of no, no, no, no, comes out of your throat, forcing you to swallow a ball of saliva that had formed. But Satoru was standing now, he had left your wobbling body to one side, your weak legs dangling off the couch and he was in front of you, undoing the belt with one hand and stroking the prominent bulge with the other. Now the white noise of your thoughts passed your ears, the drums in your chest were beginning to sound much louder. Then with a, Get on your knees, you knew this was really happening, this was real.

You want to protest because you want to find the release that is burning your core, you want to beg him to continue touching you until he makes you cum but the look he gives you silences any protest, you really didn't want to challenge him. Satoru plops down next to you occupying the previous empty space on some cushions with his body, his legs stretched out as he pleases, lightly colliding with your knee. You get up from your seat to crawl to his feet, there, with his arms on top of the backrest and legs spread apart add that air of superiority that always surrounds him. 

Your hands look small on his legs, the shadow of his cock resting on his thigh makes them look much smaller. The size intimidates you and detonates dozens of unseemly thoughts inside you —how big will he be when you take it out, if you've taken Suguru before you could definitely do it with Gojo— you were scared and you knew he knew it, silently Satoru raises his hips letting you know he's still waiting for you, but to your surprise he was being much more than patient with you. In the process of lubricating your throat with enough saliva and stroking his cock over the fabric at least thirty seconds pass.

You hear him sigh in relief, your palm is like the touch of a feather, so light that you know you will make him desperate if you keep it up. You see him drop his head back and decide to work up the courage to remove the button and then undo the zipper. Satoru helps you with the rest by hooking his fingers into his pants and pulling them down to his knees along with his boxers. You cling to his thighs, your nails digging into his porcelain skin, even with the absence of light you can see it quiver, the size makes you squeeze your legs together, your juices running from your cunt to the inside of your thighs. Again your memories travel to Suguru and you find it hard not to unconsciously compare the two of them, Satoru was definitely much less thick than his friend, something you are thankful for as it makes you think you would have an easier time taking it; however it is long enough to make you just a little terrified at the thought of having it inside you. It was long, pale and slightly curved to the left.

You swallow and come to the conclusion that the right thing to do would be to take it from the base with both hands made into fists, you squeeze it, he groans through his teeth.

"What are you thinking?" you are surprised to hear him speak, you thought after all this time he had run out of inappropriate comments to make.

"It's big." There's not a single filter in your brain at that moment. You still contemplate how much you have left to take in even as you hold it, one fist over the other.

"You like it?" You lick your lips in response, moving from the sticky wet head to his eyes and think as you look into them now they are darker, still glistening with lust. "Use your words, angel."

The petname makes you dizzy. You look down at the cock in your hands again, then back up at him. "I like it," you confess.

"Do you need help?" You didn't think it was possible to get your heart to beat faster but somehow you manage it. You shake your head in denial, see him smile and assume maybe he's proud. Satoru spreads his legs wider and moves his hips closer to the edge of the couch to make you  more comfortable, two of his fingers manage to start removing the buttons on the wrinkled shirt. "No? Alright, show me what a good girl you are then."

His praises were going straight to your head making your brain turn into a sponge asking for more of his voice, more of his compliments. You stir between your legs, the position quickly numbing your knees. You start to move your hands at the same time, up and down very slowly, hoping to get some sign of approval from him but all you get is a long silence, even though it only makes you want to please him more.

You let your hands continue to massage the shaft and focus on the head. Trying to remember the last time you sucked a cock you remember Suguru, you remember what he used to like, the instructions he used to give you, after all he has been the only man you have been with, the only one who has taught you everything you know so nerves eat away at your bones when you finally put it in your mouth. It's strange because you were expecting another taste but surprisingly it tastes like nothing so this makes you suck, swirl your tongue in circles sensing every detail of the smooth texture, that's when you hear him moan, you hollow your cheeks and seek to take it deeper.

You pause for a moment to spit on it and fuck just the tip of it with a tight fist, Satoru gasps and his back arcs in your direction. Standing closer to you his fingers sink into your silky strands and he forces you to steady yourself, his height widening over your crumpled figure.

"Say 'aah', that's it, atta girl." Satoru snatches his own cock from your hand to flick your tongue, then forces your head down to take him deeper. You feel the tip hit your throat which makes you gag around it, you squeeze the fabric of his shirt in your hands, protests get stuck around his shaft and when the saliva is touching your jaw he pulls out of you to let you breathe, as soon as his cock stops clogging your throat you start coughing. "Sh, sh. You're going to take it again." He speaks to you so sweetly he almost makes you believe that you can.

"I can't—"

"Let me try again, your throat feels so good, look how hard you've made me." Amidst your watery eyes you manage to see it throbbing in front of you as Satoru pleases himself by stroking it vaguely with one hand, the head tinted a darker red. "Just a second time, I promise." His words are cotton candy on your palate, they make it all make sense, make you trust him because he would never hurt you and get you to end up opening your mouth like an obedient lamb for a second time.

Satoru slides inside you with a praise and an animalistic growl, first he takes his time and rubs himself on your tongue back and forth, your lips close around him sucking devotedly. You take a big inhale to try and prepare to take him again, this time the fist binding your hair forces you to go deeper. You protest, your hands slapping his thighs. "Mhm almost... almost. I know you can take it all, relax your throat." In between gagging comes the thought that you are going to choke, not just because of the size, but because of the amount of saliva you have accumulated and with the fist on your head pushing you deeper you come to the conclusion that you were going to pass out. Even though you managed to breathe through your nose your throat was burning, you could barely see because of the salty drops accumulating in your eyes and when you had given up and relaxed your throat, the tip of your nose brushes the short white hairs, there finally Satoru lets you go.

You are coughing at his feet with your sore and bruised throat, one hand wiping the drool from your cheek and another drying your tears that apparently overflowed at some point. If you told him to stop, would he really stop now, could you really go through with this? Your lips hurt, your throat burns and your stomach sinks a little at the thought that Suguru might find you like this. What would he say? You don't know at what point you started sobbing quietly or when you ended up in Satoru's lap but when you opened your eyes all you could find was that pair of deep blue eyes staring at you, singing you a coo as he stroked your back. 

"You did so good for me." You did? Your eyes shining with illusion, your stomach in knots. You shouldn't be happy. His thumbs wipe away your tears, his big hands cradle your face and you melt into them, rubbing your head between his palms like a needy puppy. He deposits two wet kisses on your moist cheeks. "You liked sucking my cock that much? Is that why you're crying?" You... you were stunned, you didn't know exactly what you were supposed to answer. You try to swallow and your throat s scratchy, your tongue gritty. "You made me so fucking hard and took me so deep, you should be proud." His thumb travels from your burning cheeks to your lip and he squeezes it back and forth, the soft touch feels so good that you are forced to close your eyes again, letting yourself be consumed by that cloud of pleasure. In the midst of your stupor, you feel two fingers bring a new flame to your core, caressing your clit in lazy circular motions. 

"Satoru..." 

"Open your mouth." You find yourself doing it before you can process the idea, his thumb is heavy on your tongue, the sensation is pleasant and reminds you of his cock; the idea makes you clench around nothing. "Suck it nice and deep, like it's my cock." That makes you moan, his touch has you melting, his fingers go from your clit to your hole and there he slides a finger inside you with such ease, the squish of his finger digging deep inside you exposes how wet you are. "Do you want me to make you cum with my cock in your mouth?" The moan he steals from you is lewd, Satoru replaces your thumb with two of his longer fingers, he squeezes your tongue and thrusts in and out of your mouth as spit starts to puddle on your tongue. "All this wet from sucking my dick?" 

Satoru laughs behind your ear, leaving a kiss there that makes you clench around the second finger he presses inside you. Massaging your pussy slowly in and out, you're sure his fingers are soaking wet when he reaches your g-spot, all the way to the knuckles deep inside you, making your cunt scream with those clicking sounds. He starts to increase the pace pumping that spot and fucking your mouth at the same time, getting your body to start bucking on top of his lap.

His fingers keep pounding your sore pussy and that makes you want to collapse in his arms, his fingers longer and more expert than yours manage to easily reach deeper inside you. You cry out his distorted name thanks to his fingers reaching for your throat, your body twitches and falls silent until he pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth and lets you collapse onto his body, sobbing into his shoulder as his fingers continue to ride each wave of your orgasm, your hole tightening again and again around him, you are exhausted, empty as he pulls out of you. 

You moan because your whole body is numb, more perceptible to the dim light, to the sounds you distinguish in your own apartment and his dirty fingers from your orgasm now begging for entrance to your mouth. 

"Clean your mess," he says, but he is really ordering you. Your still mush brain allows him to enter your mouth and you suck with devotion until he deems them clean enough, only then does he drag them out of you, gently pat your cheek and that gets your attention back to reality. 

"W-what-" Even though you had learned that complaints were worthless with Satoru, you decide to whine in confusion as he was helping to gently lay you down on the couch and next he positions himself better on top of you. "Wait, Satoru..." You clearly knew what was coming. 

"Squeeze your thighs together." He ignores any kind of complaint to your non-surprise. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, his hair falling messily across his forehead giving him a feral touch, almost covering the wild look he was staring at you with... though he wasn't looking at you, at least not directly. His cock slams into your clit, squeezing it back and forth beneath his heavy head and the impact makes you wince. "You know what..."

"I don't think, really... really I—"

"It's okay," he says. Gathering your legs so easily in one hand, pushing them together until they touch your chest. "I'm not going to put it in, it shouldn't count as cheating." He's so hard against your sodden folds, you gasp as you just  the fat head tease trying to push inside you, bumping into your hole to slide all the way back up your slit. You shudder, your hips squirm. "Though for someone who doesn't want to get her pussy fucked, you're pretty fucking wet," he snorts wryly, slamming into your pussy harder this time. "Maybe we could try it next time, it wouldn't count as cheating if I fuck your ass either." Next time.

You don't have time to complain or mention that you've never done anything like this before... you can't take in the icy fear mixed with excitement that settles in your belly as you listen to him talk about fucking your ass because Satoru was pushing himself into the middle of your tight pussy lips, Squeeze your thighs for me, he reminds you, so he can let go and rest both hands on the sides of your head. Your feet are pressed against his chest, Satoru starting a firm pace where he shamelessly fucks your thighs and where you can't do more than take it because your hands are busy holding your legs closed so they don't spill out beside you. 

Satoru is close to you, his shirt falls open around his ribs making it bounce with each sharp thrust. You're panting with your mouth open getting your tongue dry as you desperately search for the oxygen that each time his hips bump against your thighs makes escape. He's certainly not inside you, he's not stretching your insides nice and deep but it's as if he is— each thrust makes you feel dizzy, the swollen tip of his cock rubbing against your tender clit over and over again, your pussy still sensitive from the recent orgasm he had snatched from you.

Contrary to what you might have imagined, if you had ever allowed yourself to fantasize about such a thing, Satoru is quiet, grunting and moaning without any modesty, sometimes gritting his teeth or you notice the Adam's apple go up and down yet he doesn't bother to disguise how good you make him feel, not caring much that the whole building realizes you have company tonight— knowing him, you imagine the idea only turns him on more. You're sure he'd rather be inside you but the expression on his face right now is one of pure ecstasy and lust, a hint of morbidity even as he's not even fucking you properly, the idea of him fucking you with that same intensity... that you even let him use your ass makes you clench painfully around nothing, your walls feel achingly empty.

From below you notice his pearly teeth chewing on his lower lip, his arms tensed at your side from the force he's exerting mark prominent veins and the occasional white strand bounces off his forehead from the intensity, his forehead beading with droplets of water.

"Fuck, I'm close." Satoru sits back on his calves and runs a hand through his hair pushing away the annoying strands. Your legs open, drop down to rest a little from the position feeling already the burning that chews your muscles and will be much worse tomorrow.

He takes the time to take off his shirt which is a mess and you lose yourself for a moment in what little you can appreciate of his marked abdomen, much stronger than you could ever imagine. Satoru wasn't as muscular or beefy as Suguru, but he was just as attractive.

Holding onto your elbows you see him grab his cock with one hand and slap your aching flesh again, tap, tap, tap. "You want to cum like this? Me slapping your clit?" you couldn't answer, you don't really know what you wanted, too deep in a thick fog of desire that manages to sink you deeper and deeper into that white noise. Far away, you hear him chuckling without stopping, rubbing your clit, hitting it with the red tip, teasing it until you gasp squeezing your eyes tight, a big hand pushes your abdomen down telling you dirty and sweet things, thus helping you to reach your sweet orgasm just with the stimulation of his cockhead.

Satoru drops down on you again but this time it's much closer, his wet chest is crushing yours, between your legs you  how heavy his thighs and hips are. His heavy breath hitting your neck, from there he goes to your ear. "Can I put it in? Just the tip, I promise." The tantalizing whisper makes your hips thrust upward seeking more of his hard cock sliding in between your slick folds, you feel it hard, throbbing, begging to finally be emptied. "Please, please..." Your nails dig into his back, he growls biting your neck in response.

"Yeah..." You respond lost amidst your carnal desires. Overwhelmed by the beads of sweat on his back under your fingers, the fragrance of his sweaty shampoo hypnotizing your coherence, his clammy hair tickling your shoulder line. Satoru marks your neck, peppering it with little kisses and sucking until it hurts. 

"Yeah? That's a good girl." Satoru's heat suffocates you against the couch, his thighs heavy on top of yours making you sink between the cushions just a little, forcing you to open wider to take it. You are too hot, too wet. Satoru jerks the tip of his cock at your entrance, making circles that make you clench wanting to have it inside, teasing you one last time he does as he promises, he shoves just the tip of his cock in making you  so empty, it's not enough, it's all you can think about.

You are aching still thanks to your previous orgasm, sobbing, lost in the sweet babbles he drops as he licks your ear.

"I'm going to cum inside you," he blurts out. Followed by a long thrust that gets his hips sliding inside you but he pulls out right away, the motion makes your nails dig deeper into his back. "Sorry, you're so wet..." He shuffles his hips again to thrust into your pussy with a faint clap of colliding skins, there he just grinds his hips against yours, stimulating your clit at the same time, making you feel how deep he is, making you feel every inch of his cock, twitching, as Satoru gasps at the line of your neck, telling you how good you've been for him.

Your body is sticky as he pulls away from you tracing a line of kisses from your mouth, collarbones, navel and reaching your crotch. As he deprives you of his warmth a cold air seems to rush through your limbs. 

"Gojo..." You say softly, lifting your head.

"Sh. I always clean up my messes." You fail to articulate another word, sore and tired you give up on the couch as Satoru takes over licking your pussy collecting his own cum, you feel his fingers inside you a couple of times pumping it just a little, delighted by the way your hole quivers faintly around his digits. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." 

Satoru gives one last suck on your clit and climbs towards you to take you in a strange position, in a sort of spooning attempt but the space is so small you feel like you're going to fall off at any moment, yet his long arms manage to clutch you tighter to his chest, managing to coordinate your unrestrained breaths. Then you let him shower kisses on your shoulder and neck, his long fingers petting your belly. 

"Let's go take a bath." Satoru tries to get up but you stop him with a groan, too heavy to even open your eyelids. 

"Five minutes..." you say, your voice sounding distant. Within the mental morass you sink into, you feel him squeeze you, he leaves another kiss on your shoulder. 

"You're going to sleep. I want to clean you up first."

"Mhm." 

You can't get up now no matter how dirty you feel, your legs are mingling with the cushions, chains pulling you down forming one body with his. You don't know how you're going to present yourself to Jujutsu Tech tomorrow with your neck probably hurt, you didn't know if Satoru had left visible marks but the idea stirs up a feeling of anguish that fades as you give in to sleep— especially you didn't know what was going to happen now, what was going to happen next, you didn't know how you were going to look him in the face…. But maybe this was just what you needed, a reality check, a slap in the face of cruel realism that told you that you can't be loyal to an absent person. You will forget him, you would… you would… you repeat to yourself, having no idea how close you were to uncovering again that Pandora's box you had so much trouble closing.

[bumblesimagines]

The Cold Stars

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Daenerys encounters a lonesome stranger in Meereen who shares a bitter history with Ser Barriston

Pronouns: He/Him/His

TW/CW: Suicide mention

~~~

"I cannot hide behind walls forever, Ser Barriston," Dany spoke gently, dragging her eyes over the small marketplace in the city. She knew the dangers of being out in public but she had trust in Ser Barriston and Grey Worm, her loyal subordinates. They'd never allow harm to come to her, she knew that very well. Besides, she needed to show the people of Meereen that she cared and valued them. Trust had to be earned, not given freely. So, despite the worries expressed to her by Ser Barriston and Daario, she marched forth into the marketplace, eager to see what her people were selling. 

"I know, Your Grace," Ser Barriston sighed quietly, his eyes just as diligent and alert as Grey Worm's, bouncing around from cart to face in search of anyone with less-than-innocent motives. Most of the people watched them silently, the caution on their faces making Dany frown. She needed their loyalty, not their fear. She couldn't comprehend it well. She freed them from their masters, breaking the chains that made them slaves and they'd seemingly loved her for it. But the hesitation and unhappiness on some of their faces made her heart twist. 

"Do you think King's Landing will receive me like this?" Dany asked the older, more experienced man as they rounded a corner, slipping out of the market into an alleyway, her head angled over her shoulder to peer back at the two. Ser Barriston's lips parted to respond but his eyes flickered away and Dany noticed Grey Worm reaching for his sword. Her head snapped forward, preparing herself for the worst only to notice the young man leaning against the wall with an apple in hand, his eyes-

His eyes...

Cold and displeased and undeniably violet. Her mind flickered back to Viserys, to the mentions of her parents and Rhaegar, to all the portraits she'd seen of her ancestors and all the stories told about them. She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her, and she suddenly yearned for her family, for the mother that died moments after having her, and the father that earned the title of Mad King. For Rhaegar and even cruel Viserys. But the man before them lacked the notable silver hair and appeared more... Dornish.

"(Y/N) Dayne," Ser Barriston gaped, eyes large and pale skin as if he'd seen a ghost. "You... are a long ways from home, child."

"As are you, Selmy." His bitter voice seemed to jolt Ser Barriston, his mouth clamping shut and bushy brows knitting together. (Y/N) raised the apple to his lips and dug his teeth into the crunchy fruit, a trickle of juice dripping down his chin. He chewed slowly as he studied each of them, his hardened gaze only momentarily growing indifferent when he turned his attention to the perplexed Grey Worm. "You are far from King's Landing, Ser. As are you, Targaryen."

"You are in the presence of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, child, you will refer to her as such. Your brother fought fiercely for the Targaryens during the rebellion."

"And he died." (Y/N) licked his lips, the apple beginning to crack and drip with juices under his grasp. The bitterness, near hatred in his eyes sent a chill down Dany's spine, yet she found herself unable to tear her own eyes away from his face. "You claim to have loved and respected Arthur and Ashara but where were you when they died? Where were you when Stark slaughtered my brother and my sister threw herself into the sea?" 

"I would've given my life for either of them, you know that." Ser Barriston responded sharply, almost bristling at the silent accusation. 

"You would've given your life for the Prince." Her trance broke immediately at the mention of her brother, of the man Ser Barriston always recalled fondly. Her lips pulled back into a deep frown and (Y/N) turned his attention onto her. "You should've been willing to give your life for Elia and her children. That Targaryen-" The sneer when he spoke said plenty of his opinions on her family. "-abandoned them to die like a coward."

"Mind your tongue!" 

"My siblings are dead because of him!" (Y/N) snapped back at the knight, the apple finally breaking under his hold, different parts flying around while some of it turned to mush in his palm. Dany flinched and stepped back, one piece sliding right up to her feet and almost disappearing beneath the skirt of her dress. (Y/N) shook his hand and scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and barely sparing Grey Worm a glance when he stepped in front of Dany defensively. Ser Barriston's shoulders sagged, the fury dying immediately. "If he'd done his duty as a husband, Allryia, Aran, and I wouldn't be mourning them, Ser."

Dany raised her hand and placed it over Grey Worm's shoulder, meeting his questioning gaze with a reassuring nod. He stepped aside, allowing Dany to step forward, her shoe kicking aside the apple piece before she lifted her head to look at him once more. "Why have you come here, Lord (Y/N)? If not to ally yourself with me, why?"

"To see if the rumors were true. They say you have dragons and you'll use them to take back the Iron Throne. Ashara told me stories of dragons when I was a child. Elia, too. Dorne fought back against them during your ancestor's conquest."

"I have no qualms with Dorne," Daenerys told him softly. "And I am sorry for your losses. I am not my father nor my brothers. I wish to do things differently. The Lannisters, a common enemy between us, rule Kings Landing, do they not? We can ensure they will not bring harm to anyone else, not under my rule. House Dayne of Starfall is a noble house in Dorne with... close ties to the Martells of Sunspear. As I know it, the Martells despise Lannisters as well."

"Why would we fight for you? Justice is a mere action when you'd be getting the Iron Throne. Dorne has been at peace for many years."

"Perhaps..." Dany paused and glanced toward Ser Barriston. The older man met her gaze with an arched brow and a curious, almost concerned glint in his eye. She pursed her lips. She needed stronger allies, she needed angry allies... and even queens require heirs. "Perhaps House Dayne would be more pleased if one of their own became King Consort of Westeros." 

(Y/N)'s eyes only narrowed in response. The crown would be tempting to any man, especially one of noble birth, but he only appeared annoyed by the offer. "I'm afraid my brother, Lord Aran Dayne, is content with his wife, and Edric is far too young to marry. I've had the freedom of being the youngest all my life. Why would I give it up to become a king when I can do whatever I please?"

"Kings do whatever they please, do they not?"

"Kings like Robert Baratheon and Aerys Targaryen, sure. Your brother did whatever he pleased as prince and plunged the kingdom into war. Rulers do what the people want, what they need. You haven't exactly been keeping your people happy, Daenerys. Dorne will only ally themselves if we know we'll win. You may have your army but Tywin Lannister and his dog have been commanding far longer than you and I have been alive. Prince Doran will never allow a child parading themselves as ruler of a city anywhere near Dorne's army. You'll have better luck asking for Prince Oberyn's hand in marriage."

"It almost sounds as if you believe you can do a better job than me... if so, join my council. You'll have your freedom and when the time comes, you'll have your justice. Perhaps then, you'll feel more inclined to accept my proposal. I know Dorne is known for its... queer customs. You view bastards as equal, women are seen as fine rulers, and having multiple lovers is common. Many have their opinions of Dorne but... I'd be rather happy with a Dornishman. I will grant you the freedom of doing as you please, if you become my consort, as long as we have a-" Her voice nearly broke, forcing her to pause again and clear her throat. "A healthy heir. What do you say now, Dayne?"

[ao3-rex1223]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: DBF!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus,

Summary: Leon is called away to a mission in Spain before Christmas and you wait anxiously to see if he'll make it home in time.

“I’m going to try my hardest to finish in the next couple days,” Leon reassures you over the phone. He’s been away for two weeks on a mission in Spain since a rogue military faction started snooping around for remnants of Las Plagas. You pace Leon’s living room; ever since you two got together, you spend a lot of time waiting at his place. You tell your parents your ‘house sitting’ since they still don’t know you’re secretly dating him, though sometimes you wonder if your father at least suspects and isn’t saying anything. He never questions what you’re doing anymore. As soon as you say you’re going to Leon’s, he simply smiles and nods, never pressing you for further details. 

You flop onto his bed, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Think you’ll be home by Christmas?” you ask, hope rampant in your tone, the holiday only one week away. Your eyes glance around the bedroom you share with him more often than not, lingering on photos of you two placed in simple frames all over. You smile to yourself, feeling the warmth from the happy memories. 

“I wanna be there. I’ll do everything I can, baby.” 

“I’ll make sure your house is nice and Christmas-y for when you get home,” you promise, already envisioning so many decorations, it’ll be like Christmas threw up all over his house!  

I’m sure you will, sweetheart,” Leon replies with a chuckle. 

You hear gunshots ringing in the background, causing your heart to race wildly. “Leon!” you choke out, plagued with worry.

“I better go, baby girl,” Leon says suddenly. You can hear rustling, like he’s moving quickly. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Leon. Please be careful!” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes. The line goes dead and, as always, you never know if it’s because he hung up or something awful happened. You won’t know until he calls again. It could be hours… It could be days. You take a deep breath and sigh, hands trembling as they hold your phone, eyes staring at the screen with Leon’s image and contact information still displayed. “Just come home,” you whisper to that digital picture. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you make a trip to the local hobby store to find some decorations for Leon’s house. Your mood lifts slightly as you wander the store, picking out every tantalizing Christmas decoration you see, filling the large shopping cart full before you’re even half way through the store. You glance down at your haul so far; reindeer, Santas, porcelain houses, lights, fake snow, candles, garland, nutcrackers, bows, stockings, ornaments, even a few gnomes dressed in holiday garb. You return your gaze to the aisles ahead…and then…in the distance, you spot an eight foot tall synthetic tree, decked out in colorful LED lights and your eyes shine like a small child padding down the stairs on Christmas morning to see all the presents that good old Saint Nick left for them. Beaming, you rush to the nearest employee and ask - no, beg - them to help you get one of those magnificent trees. The twenty something year old worker clearly suppresses an eye roll - not that you’ll let it get to you - and tells you he’ll ‘check the back’. After a few minutes, he returns and tells you there are no more of the trees you wanted in stock. “The closest we have in stock is a nine-footer,” he explains, his tone detached and apathetic, as though he'd explained the lack of stock a dozen times already today and couldn't muster any more effort.

Unwilling to let this Grinch steal your cheerful attitude, you gleefully exclaim, “Oh! I’ll take the nine-foot one, then!” You practically jump up and down. 

“Great,” the worker replies, coldly and turns on his heel, heading back to the stockroom. You bob your head and sing softly along with the Christmas music playing overhead. Finally, the worker returns with a flatbed carrying your beautiful tree. 

After struggling to get it into your car, eventually you strap it to the top and carefully drive back to Leon’s place with your massive purchase of holiday decorations. You link your phone to the stereo in his living room and start playing more Christmas music, along with which you are all too happy to sing. You immediately start putting up the nine foot tree. With tender, loving care, you add lights, ornaments, and tinsel. You string more lights along the mantle of his fireplace and garland on the banisters. The small statuettes you bought find places on his coffee table and end tables. 

Throughout the afternoon, you’re constantly checking your phone to see if Leon has called or at least texted. Nothing. You know he must be pinned down somewhere. He will always let you know he’s okay when he can. You clasp your hands together in a silent prayer for his safety. 

Meanwhile…

Leon forces himself to breathe quietly as militia men scour the decaying laboratory - the one that used to belong to Luis. He stays hidden behind a cabinet, clutching his handcannon in position to fire if needed, but he’s hoping to avoid a direct confrontation, not that it wouldn’t be the first time he’s faced down a hoard of enemies…and it wouldn’t be the first time in this location, either. Flashbacks from that day he came here to rescue Ashley Graham back in 2004 fill his mind. That was long before he met you, before you changed his whole goddamn life. Christ, he misses you. He misses the warmth of your body pressed against his; he misses your smile; he misses your laugh, your kisses, your warm, wet mouth around his-

“Hey! Check over there!” one of the men commands, pulling Leon from his reverie. Fuck, he thinks to himself as he hears heavy boots approaching his hiding spot. He cocks the powerful magnum, ready for a fight. Some big burly motherfucker pokes his ugly head around the corner of Leon’s hiding spot. He growls, bearing his sickly teeth which are quickly blown to pieces by the bullet fired from Leon’s weapon. Shit, can’t catch a break. Guess we’re doin’ this, Leon realizes. He pushes the large man’s limp body away and gets into position, ready to take out anyone else who dares come his way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will keep him from returning to his girl. 

Back at Leon’s place, you decide to bake some cookies, hoping to have a nice treat for him when he gets back, as if you didn’t practically buy out the store’s entire stock of Christmas decorations. You inhale the warm, homey smell of the delicious dessert, soothing your weary heart, which still worries for Leon’s safety. You take a deep, centering breath, reminding yourself to trust in Leon’s abilities. 

Two days before Christmas, you finally hear from him. “Hey, baby girl. I'm coming home!”

You shriek with joy, jumping up and down in his living room. You spend the day meticulously cleaning the place, making sure it's perfect. 

And on Christmas Eve, near midnight, The door opens, his face marred by fatigue and restless nights, but still handsome as ever. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates his features in a warm hue. “Baby…” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear. Tears pool in your eyes, your nose tingling as emotion overwhelms you. You rush toward him and throw yourself into his embrace. 

Just like that, with the love of his life in his arms again, Leon feels whole once more. He crushes you against him, soaking in your warmth, soothing his aching soul. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your unique scent. It reminds him why he fights, why he continues to battle the evils of the world, because, as bad as things are, if he can make it a little better for you, it’s worth the pain and effort. For a while, you simply hold each other, the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the cold winds outside the only soundtrack for your heartfelt reunion. When you finally part, he gently cups your face and presses his mouth to yours in a tender and passionate kiss. The softness of your lips is a balm for his wary heart. Your tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, a dance of love and devotion. 

You finally break for air, gazing with longing into each other's eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Leon coos, his voice cracking slightly from the weight of all his emotions. 

“I missed you too, Leon,” you reply, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose. 

He smiles, his tense muscles finally relaxing after the long and grueling mission. “Hey,” he begins, his voice smooth like butter again, “got something for you…” He bends down to pick up a box with a bunch of holes in it. You look with curiosity at it, certain you hear it…whimpering? A giant red bow adorns the top. He holds the bottom while you lift the lid. Inside is a small, fluffy white puppy, looking up at you with innocent, golden eyes. It yawns, inadvertently showing off its sharp little teeth. Adorably ferocious, you think to yourself. 

“Leon…it’s…” You try to speak, but feel too choked up. Your hands carefully reach in to pick up the helpless ball of fur. Holding it in your arms, it sniffs you cautiously before licking your face, drawing out a genuine, joyful grin from your lips. 

“You remember me telling you about that dog that helped me out all those years ago?” Leon asks. After you nod in affirmation, gently scratching your new friend’s furry cheeks, he continues, “I found him again. Had a litter of pups around. This one was the runt; he wouldn’t do well on his own in the wild, so I brought him home. Thought he could keep you company while I’m away. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Tears fall down your face at the thoughtful gift. “Oh Leon! I love him!” you exclaim, kissing him deeply once again, your soft pup nestled between the two of you. 

After settling the pup - who you decide to name Buddy - into his new home, you and Leon share a bottle of champagne to celebrate his safe return. You clink your crystal glasses and snuggle together on the couch while Buddy snores softly, fast asleep on the recliner. 

Hearts yearning to share the most intimate of connections, Leon lifts you into his arms, bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom, the champagne glasses long since drained of their titular contents. He lays you on the bed with infinite gentleness and crawls over the top of you. He kisses your lips then peppers kisses all along your cheeks and jaw. He pecks a few more just below your ear before whispering, “I love you so much baby. More than anything. I fucking need you.”

You moan softly, cunt getting slippery with your essence, arousal growing, unobstructed. “Leon…I need you, too. I love you!” Tears pool in your eyes again as your feelings for him overwhelm you, yet again. 

He hums his approval at your response, hand gently lifting your shirt, grazing your perfect breasts as he removes it entirely. He growls hungrily as his eyes take in the plush mounds. “Missed these two, as well,” he adds with a smirk and kisses both breasts before taking one hardened bud into his mouth. 

Your teeth take your lower lip between them, biting gently as pleasure begins to fill you, originating from the gentle nibbles on your tits. You can feel his cock hardening, throbbing against your thigh through his pants. He sucks on the fat of your breasts, definitely intending to leave hickies there. Your hands reach down to tug at his shirt. His mouth releases you for mere seconds, long enough to whip his shirt off and throw it across the room. He continues to kiss his way down your taught stomach. His hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, pulling them down and off, effortlessly. “My Christmas feast…” Leon growls and pushes your legs apart. His thumbs part your wet folds and he looks hungrily at your glistening, pink sex. He licks his lips before diving in, hot, open mouthed kisses claiming your neglected pussy. Your hips roll in time with his expert licks, angling your clit toward his tongue. He closes his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it like it’s a rare delicacy. Your abs tighten as your body begins to respond on its own, your back arching hard and your head digging into the bed. Your hands death grip the sheets, nails nearly cutting through the fabric, a mind numbing climax imminent. 

“Leon! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out, the pleasure worth the wait you had to endure while he was gone. Orgasm ripping through you, he pins you in place with his strong arms while he continues to lick you though your waves of euphoria. As you pant, gasping for air, he kicks off his pants and gives his aching dick a few strokes, precum leaking from the tip. He pushes your legs apart again, which practically fall open whenever he looks at them. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you again, sweetheart. Not at home until I feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my shaft,” He guides his throbbing cock toward your willing entrance, notching the tip past your eager barrier. He drops onto his hands above you, arms caging you in as he slides further inside, the familiar sensation of his thick length filling your tight channel and kissing the entrance to your womb like a warm embrace, a feeling of completeness. “Fuck…you’re so goddamn tight, baby girl. Never gonna get tired of this,” Leon purrs. His mouth connects with yours once more, pouring all of his pent up love and passion into the heated kiss. With tender thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock rubs your g-spot, teasingly slow. You moan and whimper, begging for more with incoherent babbles. “Yeah, baby girl. You want more? Want me to put a baby in you, honey?” His mouth returns to your neck, licking and sucking, his own arousal and need growing beyond his control. 

His words make you arch into him even more, the thought of him impregnating you is once again a potent aphrodisiac. “Yes! Please! God, I want it so bad!”

He groans at your impassioned affirmation. He begins snapping his hips forward hard, your tantalizing breasts jiggling with each movement. He withdraws nearly completely out before slamming back inside you again, driven by primal instinct, an innate desire - no, a need - to breed you, to watch your belly swell with his child, to claim you in every way imaginable. He laces your fingers together, pressing them gently into the mattress. His rhythm is frenzied and irregular as he begins chasing his own high. As you cum a second time, you tense, hard, then cry out as your walls collapse on his dick, sucking him in deeper. With a guttural, rough moan, Leon thrusts into you one final time, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. For a long time, he simply remains buried inside you, unwilling to sever the connection just yet. He pulls you with him as he rolls off of you, deciding to keep himself warm inside your delicious heat for the night. “Need you to cockwarm me, baby girl. Been too damn long.”

Your pussy quivers weakly as the last remnants of your orgasm trickle out of you. “Always, Leon. Merry Christmas, baby,” you coo softly, running your fingers tenderly through his hair. 

He closes his eyes as you caress his scalp and rub it gently. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you close as he begins drifting off to sleep, comfortable and happy for the first time since he left for the mission to Spain. 

[satoruswifeyyyy]

grocery shopping with bratty satoru

masterlist

grocery shopping with satoru was supposed to be a quick errand. a normal task. something simple. but you forgot one very crucial detail: satoru is incapable of being normal.

“you’re pushing the cart too fast,” he whined dramatically, jogging to keep up as you walked down the produce aisle. “what’s the rush? it’s not like the tomatoes are gonna sprout legs and run away.”

“they might, if they hear you talking,” you deadpanned, grabbing a handful of tomatoes and placing them in a bag.

“how dare you insult my sweet tone!” he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just slapped him. “my voice is a gift to the world.”

“your voice is why i wear noise-canceling headphones at home,” you retorted, moving on to the cucumbers.

he grabbed a cucumber and held it up like a microphone. “tell us, oh great shopper, how do you choose the perfect cucumber?”

“by shoving it into the cart before my overgrown toddler of a boyfriend can use it to embarrass me,” you replied, tossing the cucumber into the cart.

satoru grinned, leaning on the cart as he sauntered after you. “so mean, yet so cute. i'm starting to think you keep me around for entertainment.”

“i keep you around because the store doesn’t let me use the express lane without two people,” you teased, heading toward the snacks aisle.

“ih, the betrayal!” he gasped, trailing dramatically behind you. “i thought it was my charming personality, my good looks, my—”

“don’t forget your giant ego,” you interrupted, attempting to toss a bag of chips into the cart but failing to do so.

picking the bag from the ground, he threw it into the cart with unnecessary flair. “you’re lucky i’m forgiving. what’s next? chocolate? ice cream? no spicy food though!”

“how about something to keep your mouth occupied so I can shop in peace?” you suggested, grabbing a jar of salsa.

“you wound me,” he sighed, clutching the cart like he might faint. “if only,” you muttered under your breath.

but before you could add anything else to the cart, satoru wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean to me,” he pouted, his voice full of affection.

“If i were nice to you, you’d think i was sick,” you replied, trying to wiggle free.

“no way. i'd just assume you finally realized how amazing I am.”

“amazing at being annoying,” you shot back, though the corners of your lips twitched upward despite yourself.

“ah-ha! I saw that!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to face him. “you’re smiling. admit it, you love me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, grabbing a box of cookies and shoving them into his hands. “i love you almost as much as i love grocery shopping alone.”

satoru laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “too bad, you’re stuck with me. now, let’s go find the ice cream before i start crying in public.”

as you turned toward the frozen foods, satoru suddenly lit up like a kid on christmas morning. “ooh, the cheese section!”

“do we really need five different types of cheese?” you asked, staring at the cart that was beginning to resemble a buffet.

“yes,” he replied confidently, tossing a block of gouda into the cart. “What if I wake up one day and feel like swiss, but all we have is cheddar? tragic.”

you grabbed the pack of gouda cheese and put it back. “we don’t need all this. you’re not a one-man charcuterie board.”

“but my refined palate!” he gasped, looking scandalized. “your refined palate eats instant ramen at 3 a.m. and thinks potato chips are a food group,” you deadpanned.

he smirked. “and yet, here you are, still madly in love with me.”

rolling your eyes, you pulled the cart away. “we’re sticking to the list. no more random luxuries.”

“random luxuries? excuse me, but this cheese is a necessity,” he argued, holding up a tiny packet with an outrageous price tag.

you snatched it from his hand and put it back. “no one needs $1300 pule cheese for their pizza,toru.

"fine, fine,” he relented, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset. “but you owe me something sweet for being such a responsible adult.”

grabbing a pack of his favorite candy, you tossed it into the cart. “happy now, you spoiled brat?”

he grinned, ruffling your hair. “ecstatic. you’re lucky you’re cute, or i'd be unbearable.”

“you’re already unbearable,” you replied, laughing despite yourself.

with satoru, even the simplest tasks turned into a chaotic adventure. embarrassing, loud, and ridiculous—but also sweet in its own way. life with him was anything but ordinary, and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: suguru coming up next :)

[marvelstoriesepic]

Angstober (day 10)

Pairing: College!Bucky x College!Reader

Prompt: Humiliation

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Bucky is a jerk (he does have a sense of regret); reader is humiliated; mentions of self-doubt and insecurities; toxic and strict parents; hurt!reader; sad!reader; ending is quite open but not really happy

Angstober Masterlist

This is bad.

This is really, really bad.

You stare at the sheet of paper in front of you - the exam your professor just handed back, corrected. And it seems like there were quite a few things needing to be corrected.

82%

The number burns behind your eyes, but you don’t get your gaze to turn away. It sits there so innocently as if it doesn’t matter. As if there isn’t something at stake here. As if you could be satisfied with it.

Your mouth goes dry. You had studied days and nights for this exam, as you always do, buried yourself in textbooks, flashcards, anything to cram more information into your already overloaded brain. All for 82%.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck, your skin prickling with it, like embarrassment and dread decided to team up against you, merging into something gruesome, something you can’t escape.

Around you, students already started to pack up their bags, laughing, chattering, moving on. But you can’t move. You’re frozen on this bench, apprehension sinking into your bones and making them too heavy to lift your body.

Thinking that way over a grade - with it being objectively even a decent one - would perhaps be considered dramatic. Some fellow students had cheered at much lower numbers when the professor handed out the results earlier. And perhaps, you would have even been okay with this. Perhaps you could even allow yourself a tiny flicker of satisfaction if this were about you. But it’s not. It never is.

It’s about your parents.

It’s basically ingrained in them to scrutinize every part of you, every grade, every decision. They keep close tabs on everything you do, everything that may be a hazard for the path they laid out for you a long time ago. But you don’t walk this path voluntarily. You’re being pushed, forced to take steps closer to a dream you never claimed as your own. And that can only weigh a person down.

So maybe you’re not even that surprised about the grade. Pressure is a bitch. Especially when it’s boiling, simmering under the surface, until your mind can’t comprehend the simplest of information anymore. But they won’t consider anything like that when they find out. And they will find out. They always do. It’s like they have eyes everywhere, monitoring you, waiting for you to slip.

And 82%? You may as well have flunked the entire thing.

The last time you fell short of their expectations had been 86%. Funnily enough, it was the exam before this one, so that makes things even worse. Your parents had acted like you dragged the family name through the mud and intentionally smeared it all over just to spite them.

And every word they threw at you was laced with that cutting edge that usually ends up making you feel small, insignificant, stupid. Really, it doesn’t stop there.

You don’t live with them anymore. You took the chance and moved away for college the second you could, hoping for an escape, carte blanche, freedom, whatever the hell people like to call it.

But the distance wasn’t able to cut the ties. They’re still there. Their expectations, their rules, fighting for dominance in the back of your head and hanging over you like a dark cloud. And you know with chilling certainty that this 82% is going to rain hell on your head.

Your hands feel heavy, too heavy to lift, too heavy to even pack up your things like everyone else. You just sit, paralyzed by the weight of their disappointment that hasn’t even happened yet, but you know is coming.

“Y/n!”

Wanda’s voice reaches you through the haze, your thoughts had blurred into. Her voice carries hints of that teasing tone she loves to use on you.

“Pack up, slowpoke! I gotta catch my bus!”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” you mutter, blinking yourself out of that numbness that had been creeping in. You snatch up that exam paper and shove it into your bag, crumbling it in the process but not at all caring. It’s better out of sight. You throw the rest of your stuff into the bag as well and rush to the door of the lecture hall, meeting Wanda there.

You two take different buses to get home every day but always walk to the bus station together after the classes of the day are over. And thank god this was the last one of the day, the last one of the week.

A weekend to drown yourself in your sorrows is what you need.

“Soo…” Wanda sing-songs, a hint of something in her voice. “There’s this party tonight…” she trails off, giving you a sideways glance, eyes wide with expectation and a bright grin on her face.

You sigh. Heavily. Deeply. “Wan-” you start, already shaking your head without turning to her, but she doesn’t let you get far.

“Come on, Y/n,” she practically begs, drawing out the words. “You’ve been working yourself to death for weeks. And now that the exams are over, we don’t have anything due for ages! We’ve got time. And, well, don’t punch me for this, but you need to come out, let off some steam.”

You don’t give her much of a reaction as you carry on with your steps, head turned forward, watching the bus station in the distance grow bigger. This isn’t the first time she’s asked you this and it certainly won’t be the last.

“I’m not-” you start your usual rejection, but she is relentless, already prepared for your banter.

“I’ll make sure you have a good time. It’ll be fun, you’ll meet some new people, let loose a little,” she nudges you lightly, “forget about the dragons for a while.”

At that, a huff of laughter escapes your lips and you make out the triumph in Wanda’s eyes even though you’re still not looking at her directly. At some point, Wanda had resigned to calling your parents the dragons. You took offense at that for them for a while. Or you tried to at least but, honestly, it actually made your situation with them humorous to some twisted extent.

You want to argue. You want to dig your heels in and tell her no like you usually do. But you’re tired. Tired of this conversation, tired of the accusations of your parents - the dragons - you will have to prepare for, tired of that weight that never really moves off your shoulders.

So you really can’t be mad at yourself for this.

“Alright, fine, whatever. But just this once.”

Wanda squeals.

****

Yeah, this was a mistake.

The moment you and Wanda put foot into the room, vibrating with music that leaves you stumbling, eyes move over to you.

Actually, perhaps, it aren’t even many. But receiving attention from a whole bunch of people isn’t something that happens to you on a daily basis, so having those few students turn in your direction, ogling your form as you walk into the life of the party, overwhelms you with an intensity that forces you to halt.

You had hoped you could use this night to finally forget, to get an escape where no one would notice you. That doesn’t seem to happen. Wanda also doesn’t let you retreat back into the night, and find solace in a bottle somewhere far from here - somewhere quiet.

“Hey!”

You know that voice. You hate that voice and everything that belongs to its owner.

“Took a wrong turn there, sweetheart. Library’s the other way!”

There’s a laugh in his voice, the exaggerated mocking he always uses to taunt you, perfectly edged into it and you pretend not to hear him, only gripping Wanda’s arm tighter. His friends sharp laughter isn’t ignored that easily though, and you feel that well-known shame boil over far too easily.

“Oh, how would you know, Barnes?” Wanda shoots back, her voice mocking, but lacking that same playfulness she used with you earlier. A few more snorts from Bucky’s group follow but you don’t turn around as Wanda pulls you passed them.

You hate this. Already.

Bucky is at every party, so you knew he would be here. And you had tried to mentally prepare for his presence, steeled yourself against the jibes and insults he usually throws at you. Well, at least you had thought you were ready. But no amount of preparation could ever arm you against the venom sneaking into your thoughts at every word of his. How they latch onto the darkest corners of your mind, feeding the doubts already planted there.

It’s always been this way with him. He has always been this way. Since the first semester, it’s as if he has a vendetta against you, and you’ve become his favorite target. It started with him noticing you sitting over a textbook in the library, in the mensa, in study halls, all over campus really, and he made sure to always point it out. To make fun of it. To make fun of you.

Perhaps there is some warped entertainment in your discomfort that he savors. You’re an easy mark - soft-spoken, non-confrontational. You don’t fight back. Instead, you bury your hurt, swallowing the insecurities he rises in you, without showing a soul. Your parents were good at teaching you how to do that.

He doesn’t see how deeply his jokes cut, because you never let him see it. But you don’t think he’d care if he did.

“Does this not ever get boring to you?”

“It’s not like anyone’s going to remember you if you stay holed up in your books all the time”

“At some point, you gotta focus on the right things in life, sugar.”

Once they’re said, they never leave your head, always coming to the forefront of your mind in times you can’t handle them.

Now is one of those times.

“Wanda, I’m leaving,” you say, words holding the determination you needed all day, yanking your arm free from her grip, harsher than intended.

You need to get out of here, need to take a fucking breath, and get a taste of the cool air outside since the heat flooding your blood and skin makes it feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

You make for the door, but his voice finds you again.

“Now, hold on, where you goin'? Can’t leave yet, L/n. You just got here.”

You don’t stop at his bullshit, willing yourself to ignore him. But your fingers start trembling, growing slick with sweat.

“And hey, since I get the chance to talk to you… 82%?”

You freeze.

Your heart stutters, a cold shock icing your veins. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room leaving you to search for oxygen. You don’t want to turn around, don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction, but you’re stuck. Glued to the spot, giving him and his words the power to anchor you in place.

“Really?” Bucky continues, voice still dripping with teasing mockery, unaware of your struggle. “With all those all-nighters at the library? I gotta say, Y/n, that’s actually impressive.”

The rushing sound in your ears devours everything else - the way Wanda jumps in to your defense, as always; the same menacing laughter of his friends - it’s all drowned out by the pounding in your skull.

Your hands ball into fists, nails digging into your palms. You feel the burn of tears, that familiar sting in the corners of your eyes, and you fight it. You fight it because the last thing you want is to cry in front of him, in front of all these people, all these damn prying eyes.

You turn around without even thinking, your gaze locking onto Bucky’s. He’s grinning that satisfied smirk, a gleam in his eyes but then, in a space of a heartbeat, his expression changes, falters. His smile is wiped off his face in seconds as his eyes widen. Shock enters his features, easing the lines and sucking out the color on his face as his lips part slightly, slowly.

You can’t place his reaction, but you figure it out when your body betrays you. Lips trembling, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth but you can’t do anything for the tears blurring your vision rapidly.

Bucky is still staring at you, frozen, gaping; his face a mix of something you don’t want to concentrate on. He’s not the one allowed to be in pain right now. He’s not the one allowed to feel the rising load of agony. So why the hell does he look like it?

You turn on your heel as the hot tears start gliding down your cheeks and your body doesn’t feel like your own as you hastily make your way to the door. Your hand flies to your mouth, hoping it will stifle the sound of the sob that emerges from deep within, trying to hold onto the last shred of control and dignity you have left as you bolt from the room.

You’ve never left a place this fast before.

Not even your parent's house.

🍁 October Writing Challenges Masterlist 🍁

[xannypiretz]

Prompt: a little shopping trip with Billie turned into a whole internet debacle. Now your phone is blowing up and oop….. everyone knows you are dating Billie apparently

The day started like any other. Billie grabbed her oversized hoodie, you threw on a beanie, and together, you slipped into the comforting anonymity of a grocery store. The plan was simple: stock up on snacks, maybe pick out a few candles, and just enjoy the mundanity of it all.

Billie, being herself, managed to turn even aisle browsing into a whole event. She pushed the cart like a race car, spinning it around corners while you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. Every so often, she’d throw random items into the cart just to see your reaction—a jar of pickled eggs, an inexplicably large pack of glitter pens, a garden gnome you were certain had no place in either of your homes.

As you stood debating between two different brands of ice cream, the quiet day took a sharp turn. A sudden shuffle of movement at the entrance caught Billie’s attention, her expression hardening as she spotted a group of paparazzi. They swarmed like bees, cameras flashing and voices overlapping as they shouted her name.

She let out a long sigh but didn’t shy away. Instead, she tightened her grip on the cart and walked right toward them, her arm brushing yours.

“Billie, any comment on the rumors about your new song?” one of them shouted.

Another jumped in. “Are you dating anyone? Fans want to know!”

Without missing a beat, Billie smirked. “I’m more than satisfied with what I’ve got, thanks,” she said casually, her tone sharp enough to draw silence from the crowd. She turned to you briefly, her expression softening in a way that felt like it was meant just for you. “And my song ‘Lunch’? Yeah, that should clear everything up.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as the realization hit. She didn’t even try to dodge the question. She was saying it—out loud, in public.

It wasn’t long before Twitter was set ablaze. Billie Eilish had basically just confirmed she was in a relationship, and her fans were spiraling, dissecting every lyric of “Lunch” and speculating wildly about the mysterious girlfriend she’d hinted at.

By the time you got home, the chaos online had reached new heights, with hashtags trending and memes flooding your timelines. But Billie didn’t seem fazed. She plopped onto the couch, scrolling through her phone with an amused smirk before casually tossing it aside.

You sat down beside her, still reeling. “You realize what you just did, right?”

She grinned, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Yeah, and it feels pretty damn good.”

Later that night, as you both lay sprawled across the couch, her arm draped lazily over your waist, you heard the familiar click of her phone camera.

“Billie—” you started, but she was already typing something.

Moments later, her Instagram story popped up on your feed. A candid photo of the two of you—her grinning like an idiot, you mid-protest, eyes soft despite your exasperation. The caption?

“All the rumors are true.”

The internet exploded. But all you could focus on was Billie beside you, her laughter echoing through the room, her hand laced with yours.