#a moment of celebration for the return of the rows

[masterpieceofunderstatement]

Sophie Okonedo for Vogue World London

🫠🫠🫠

[machiavelli]

what’s up with me and plane crashing dreams. perhaps my life long obsession with the show air crash investigations is hitting or smth

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin��you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

[pearlymel]

Dandelion

love is in the air.

"These other flowers, don’t grow the same / So just leave it here with me, let’s get dirty, dirty."

warnings: NSFW, MDNI. extremely soft soft husband Sylus x fem reader. there's really no plot, it's just the life of a married couple (plus celebrating his birthday), contains oral (fem rec), dry humping, unprotected, it's just soft, fluff, multiple petnames. 2.8k words.

notes: lyric reference from "dandelion" by Ariana grande. happy birthday to my baby <3

You can feel your hands sweating against Sylus’ as you turn your head around the different departments and stores in the mall.

You pray that he doesn't notice you trying to stay cool while you were dying inside to get his gift.

Sylus guides you to a chic, high-end shopping arcade. It's filled with rows of luxurious stores. Places you're already familiar with.

He guides you through the sea of designer clothes, his thumb occasionally rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

"see anything you like so far?” He begins. you don't look interested enough, he notes. "Why don't you find something that you like, and don't look at the price tag.”

Not now, you weren't here to shop for you.

“I'll be back, stay here.” He watches you dash off with a bemused expression.

This little escapade feels almost like a game. He's not bothered by it, not really. But it almost felt like you were avoiding him all day.

Little did he know you were silent from overthinking of getting something as simple as a gift.

"Don't get into any trouble, sweetie—" he calls out, but he knows you'll be too preoccupied to listen.

He waits there, looking the picture of nonchalant.

—

“honey, stop,”

Honey.

That's a little unfair.

“I was supposed to—” Though Sylus doesn't listen, his tongue laves over your clothed cunt in long, languid strokes.

What did you even do for him to be this eager after coming back from the mall?

“what? Can't have my favorite snack after a long day?” His grip on your wrist tightens just when he senses you were about to push him off.

It's not like you hate it. No, never. It's just you were supposed do something that you completely forgot because of how he's making your head blank.

His teeth then find the hem of your panties. Slowly, he pulls the fabric down, leaving your pussy exposed to his eyes when he spreads your legs further apart.

He takes a moment just to look. And you're almost embarrassed.

He’d call you a work of art, like he always does, but he knows if he does it now while focusing on the wetness smeared on your pussy, you'll be dying from embarrassment.

“don't stare at it,” you pout.

His eyes flick up to your face, and he can’t help smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sylus brushes the pad of a finger directly on your clit, and you're immediately shivering.

He circles your bundle of nerves in a slow and soothing way, the type that makes you moan softly while pushing your hips to seek more.

His head dips down, and his tongue quickly replaces his finger, making you gasp as you immediately grab a handful of his hair to tug at.

He continues the onslaught with his mouth, his fingers now sliding through your wet folds and pressing against your entrance. He hears your soft gasp once again, the way your breathing hitches when he pushes one inside—not nearly enough, but it’s all he can give you like this.

“I’ll give you more than this later, be patient. ” He breaks away to murmur against your inner thigh, he sucks in a breath at the way you cry out for him, and presses another finger inside you, pumping them in and out. He wants to hear more of it, every single noise you make, so he returns to teasing your clit with his tongue.

“Oh, sylus, you're being so good for me—”

The words make him feel dizzy—he thrives on praise, the same way that you crave his touch.

His fingers press in deeper, curving just right to stroke the sensitive spot inside you. He’s not going to be gentle at this point; he’s already too far gone, drunk on you.

“Mmhn, faster—” you demand with a whine, and his fingers move to your request, faster, rougher, curling just right against that sensitive spot and—

Ding dong.

Your eyes shoot open, you're both suddenly interrupted by the doorbell leading to the entry of the manor, loud voices coming from the entrance.

Damn it all to hell. The twins.

Right, you remember the thing you wanted to do, you were going to bake with them since everyday is of this month (April) is their boss man's birthday.

Sylus wants you, desperately, and the last thing he needs right now is company, especially their company.

—

The house is quiet, finally quiet.

Sylus stands back from his desk, staring down at a pile of documents strewn across the wood. But he’s not reading a single thing.

He’s frustrated, but not for the usual reasons. Just thinking about earlier (before you were interrupted), it makes him hard again.

—

Your idea of help to ease his stress is definitely… interesting

He’s standing between your legs, eyes watching your furrowed eyebrows, your face is nothing but focused as you glide the razor across his jaw.

How adorable.

Sylus was in the middle of shaving after a long night, but of course, you insisted on sitting on the sink to “help out.”

no, you weren't helping. Sylus wanted to get rid of his hard on by doing something else and letting you relax. You basically walked into his trap.

He can't help but lean into your hands, eyes slightly closed as you finish up shaving the last bits right above his lips. You then grab a towel to pat dry the remaining foam on his face.

“you're all fresh for your upcoming birthday,” you comment, followed by leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

A kiss greets your cheek back from his own lips, “I have you to thank for that, apparently.”

He pulls back, giving you a playful smirk. “I suppose I’ll look pretty for you then, won’t I?”

You grin back, “you're like prince charming, annoyingly handsome,”

A snort escapes him before he can help it. He looks at your face, trying to look serious but failing completely.

“I prefer to be a dragon keeping you in the top of my tower, so that prince charming can't reach you, princess.”

Oh, that sounds hot alright.

You're both laughing after a moment of silence, Sylus buries his face on your shoulder while he holds you close to him. my precious.

—

it's midnight before you realize it, his birthday.

Sylus shivers under your touch, tilting his head into your hand at once like an obedient dog. An obedient dragon, perhaps—but a tamed one. Or, well. A semi-tamed one.

"You don't need to worry," he whispers, "I'll be gentle with you,"

You melt at his reassuring words, even while he promises he'll behave, his hands wander a little. Sliding up beneath your nightgown.

“I prepared a gift for you,” you say as you continue caressing his face, “but you'll receive it in the morning. At our garden.”

It took effort to not throw you back onto the bed and devour you then and there. You and your sweet, kind words, your sweet and kind touches.

Sylus chuckles, "I appreciate the thought, sweetie," he hums, his voice rough and low. "But this is all I want for my birthday."

His fingers trail higher, teasing the edge of your underwear and sending heat straight to your core.

His hand wanders higher, gently rubbing against the dampening fabric of your underwear. all the while, his eyes remain locked on yours. "Is this all for me?" he murmurs, "All this excitement, this anticipation...?”

A soft grunt escapes his lips when you suddenly climb into his lap, his hands automatically coming to rest on your sides.

Your thighs on either side of his thighs, your arms around his neck. The weight of you, the warmth of you, it's driving him insane.

Your lips are over his, and he returns the kiss eagerly, one hand winding in your hair, the other roaming across your skin to settle on the small of your back.

You're so close, so close that you both can't help but grind against each other impatiently. He groans your name, his hips instinctively bucking up to meet yours, desperate to feel even more of you.

"Sweetie,"

“I love you, pretty boy,” you whisper in between short kisses, and a lopsided grin spreads across his face at your words, his heart giving a little flutter in spite of the heat of the moment.

“love you too, my jewel,” he whispers just before his mouth captures yours in another deep, passionate kiss.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, Sylus nips and licks his way down your body, pulling down your nightgown just enough until your pretty breasts are in display for him.

gorgeous, Sylus thinks as he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily while you whine from the stimulation as his hand kneads the other breast.

“Sylus—” your fingers tug at his hair when you felt his teeth graze the sensitive peak, and he releases your breast with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your damp nipple.

You're in a daze, and before you know it, he's lifting your hips up to gently lay you back on the mattress and unbuckle his belt, to free his aching cock from it's tight confinements.

He rocks his hips forward, grinding the tip of his cock over your slick folds, teasing your clit before pushing just slightly inside you then pulling back out.

Sylus huffs out a breathy chuckle when he watches how you try to take more of his inches, yet he continues teasing you again and again, without giving you what you need.

Finally, he rolls his hips slowly, the thick head of his cock parting your folds, slipping inside you with a low groan. He took his time, inch by inch, letting you feel every throb of his length sinking into you, stretching you around him.

When he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own. One hand slid down to your belly, cupping the gentle curve, his thumb tracing the line where your bodies joined.

“Oh, you feel incredible.”

“i-I do?”

Sylus raises a brow just slightly before he gives you a slow, deep roll of his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours, and this man moans out just for you to hear.

“does this answer your question, pretty girl?”

His hand then slides down to your knee, pushing it up and back towards your chest until your thigh was draped over his shoulder, opening you even wider to him.

Your nails scratch at his chest, you feel like you're above the clouds, but at the same time it feels like you're on fire.

You hiss when he starts to move faster, his strokes growing longer and harder, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly. The new angle let him hit that secret spot deep inside you with every drive of his hips, and you couldn't help but cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“C-careful,” Sylus almost stops at your plea. Instead, he slows his thrusts before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “i’ve got you, beloved.” he doesn't question anything, he'd rather listen to you and do it without questioning it.

Sylus grinds his pelvis against yours, rubbing your clit firmly as he buries himself balls-deep inside your spasming cunt.

He feels your body go rigid, then—he senses you shudder violently as your orgasm crashes over you, wave of pure, unadulterated bliss radiating out from your core, and you almost feel relaxed.

your walls clench around his length, milking his own impending release. Sylus slots his lips over yours messily as he finds his own release, his cock pulsing as he pumps stream of thick, hot cum deep into your still fluttering pussy.

Though, he doesn't stop afterwards, he continues overstimulating himself, slowly grinding his softening cock into you while you both moan and whimper into each other's lips.

you both stay still, and he gives your cheek one last kiss, “is my wife sleepy?”

“… happy birthday.”

“thank you, dearest.”

—

As you stepped outside, you couldn't help but appreciate the perfect weather; the sun shined gently in the sky, a light breeze passed through the garden. It was as if the sun was setting up a romantic scene.

Sylus let out a soft hum of contentment when the picnic setup comes to view, a small twitch of surprise on his face. His gaze immediately went to yours, a subtle smile tugging on his lips.

"You did this? For me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows somewhat as he gently pulled you closer to him by the waist.

"happy birthday!"

your husband definitely didn't expect to be tackled to the ground, but he couldn't stop the wide grin on his face as you rolled both of you down. He lands on the soft grass with a soft thump, his hands landing on your waist to stabilize you both.

"You little-" Sylus' words are cut off when he feels you hands cupping his face, his expression softens, it’s like you could almost see his eyes sparkle.

he couldn't help but close his eyes instinctively when you started showering his face with soft, gentle kisses. He let out a light laugh at the feeling of your lips. The subtle feeling of the leaves falling from the trees above you and landing on you both added to the atmosphere, and Sylus felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Opening his eyes, he looked at you, “you’re beautiful.”

you grin, “thank you, handsome.”

The grass beneath you was soft, almost like a bed of feathers.

"come," you stand up to take Sylus' hands in yours, guiding him towards the little set up.

As you reached the blanket on the grass, he sits down to lean back, and his eyes roams over the food that was laid out.

"You went all out, huh? Did you plan all this by yourself?" He asked, still somewhat not believing that this scene was set up for his birthday.

"anything for you," you clear your throat, sitting right in front of him with a box on your lap, “food or gift first?”

you seem even more excited than he is, which makes him pretty excited. "The gift, then. You didn't really expect me to choose food over your present, did you?” Sylus chuckled as he watched you excitedly handing him the small box, "… Should I be worried that you're going to burst from excitement?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as if to silently tell him open it already.

He lifts the lid off.

... And he contents of the box was not what he expected, as it only had two items.

a onesie. And baby shoes next to it.

His expression went blank as he stared at the two items: the onesie and the baby shoes. For a moment, he was completely speechless, unable to process what he was looking at, then slowly, he lifted his gaze to look at you, his wide eyes filled with bewilderment.

"Are you—” He could only manage to say the first two words, but the rest got caught in his throat.

at first, you were smiling at the anticipation of what his reaction might be, but your expression falls when you sense his face pale slightly.

before you could even ask him what’s wrong, he turns to you, “did i hurt you last night? did i press anywhere too hard? did i—”

you wrap your arms around his neck as a gesture of reassurance, Sylus couldn't help but bury his face in your shoulder, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him completely. He wrapped his own arms around you, holding you tight, as if trying to anchor himself in the reality of this moment.

“i’m perfectly fine, hon. don’t worry.” you try soothing him, your hand rubbing his back.

“you’re pregnant.” His voice was soft and shaky as he spoke, his words muffled by your skin. "I can't believe it."

“don’t cry.” you tease, and he couldn't help but let out another small laugh, his heart swells with affection. He held you just a bit tighter, a small smile on his face.

A family. You're expecting. You're going to be parents. Oh god, now he has to make sure the house is safe for the baby.

This is truly, the best gift he has ever received.

"We're going to be three," he says in awe, the words bringing joy and pride to him. He leaned in, his forehead gently touching yours, "You, me, and our little one.”

Sylus might not be crying this time, but when he holds his little one for the first time, his emotions might betray him.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 57: Reunited And It Feels So Good

Summary: Settling into your new lives isn't going as smoothly as you had hoped. Luckily Johnny and Simon arrive to save the day.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,000 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, threesome, oral, fingering, squirting, creampie, cum eating, slight choking but not really, crying during sex, dick so good 'mega passes out (only for a moment), Simon's big cock, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, alternate universe, angst, domestic fluff, language

A/N: Happy 4th of July! Celebrate with some smut with British men!! this chapter about killed me but I got it done! I did it! yay me!

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The bed shifting wakes you. The room is dark as you open bleary eyes, your arm reaching out and finding nothing but warm sheets. You roll over into that warm spot, pressing your nose into the pillow.

John.

He’s gotten up, likely to go to the bathroom. You settle back in, pulling the blanket up higher around you. Kyle is off somewhere across the bed snoring softly. You sink into the warmth John left behind, phasing in and out of sleep for the next two hours. The sky starts to lighten as the sun starts to rise, and sleep starts to evade you.

You let out a quiet breath, rolling back over. John hadn’t returned, the bed devoid of his presence while you slid in and out of a light sleep. A frown pulls at your brows as you decide to get up, quietly slipping out of bed to avoid disturbing Kyle. You slip on a robe before you leave the room, heading down the hall to the kitchen.

John isn’t there either, but there’s a mug in the sink. You start the coffee, letting it drip before you head to the back door, looking out at the yard. John is kneeling in front of one of the built in planters, pulling out weeds. You step out into the cool morning, quietly sliding the door closed before approaching him.

“You’re up early.” You say, coming to a stop beside him.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” He says, not looking up at you as he tugs another weed out of the dirt. “Thought I’d get up and be productive.”

Another frown creases your brow but you don’t push, instead looking at the row of planters. “You want to plant something this year?”

“It’s early enough in the spring we could.” He says. “Flowers or a garden.”

“It might be nice to have some fresh vegetables this summer.” You say, rocking back and forth on your toes. “Or flowers would be pretty. Liven up the outside while we work on it.”

“A garden will take more work, but it’ll give us something to do while we work on getting things set up for animals.” He says.

“Now you’re thinking about animals?” You say, raising a brow.

“I always was,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “I just know we have a lot of work to do before we can think about getting any.” He looks out past the end of the patio to where the green grass disappears down a small hill. It’s starting to get long. “The fence needs some work back there, and we’d have to renovate the barn out there. It’s in dire need of repairs.”

You hum, looking out at the distance before looking back down at him. “You’ve been thinking a lot this morning.”

He shrugs, going back to weeding. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

So much for retirement being relaxing, you think, but then again, it’s good that he’s finding something to do with himself. You know he’d be going stir-crazy if he didn’t have something to do. He’s never going to be good at sitting still, not until he has no choice.

You head back into the house, Kyle up and making himself some tea.

“Morning, love.” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He passes you a mug for your coffee. “How long has he been out there?”

You shrug. “Probably a while. I heard him get up earlier before it was light out.”

“Think he’s eaten anything?” He asks, tossing his tea bag in the trash.

“Probably not.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll start on breakfast, you keep an eye on him.” Kyle leans down to press a kiss to your lips before making for the fridge pulling out some eggs.

You take a seat at the table, hardly more than a card table with plastic chairs but it’s what you could get without committing to a full dining table yet. The couch and the bed had been the first purchases and now you were going to slowly accumulate more and more furniture over time.

You can see John out the window, still kneeling and weeding the planters. His brow is pulled in focus, gaze locked into the dirt. You’ve seen him like that before, the intense focus on his task, the drive to complete whatever goal he’s set out for himself. Some deep part of you is starting to feel a bit on edge about it, but at the same time, as long as he’s happy…

You go out to fetch him when breakfast is ready, avoiding stepping in any of the dirt piles laying on the concrete. “Breakfast’s ready.” You say, coming to stand beside him.

“I’ll be in, in a minute.” He says, not even looking up at you.”

You stand there for a long moment, waiting for any more acknowledgment but none comes. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning on your heel, making your way back into the house.

“He coming?” Kyle asks, setting out plates.

“He said he’ll be in soon.” You say, taking a seat at the table.

Kyle frowns, shaking his head. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll go get him.”

You watch Kyle step out the door, reaching for the eggs as he stops beside John, words passing between them before he walks back towards the house. John stays where he is for a moment before he gets up, brushing the dirt off his jeans before heading towards the house as well.

You try not to let it bother you. You really don’t want it to, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that John brushed you off so easily, but he listened to Kyle. They have a bond stronger than yours, different than yours. They’ve been through combat together, they trust each other on a level you’ll never achieve.

Whatever Kyle said, it worked. That’s what you should be thankful for.

John smells like dirt as he passes, going to wash his hands before he sits at the table on your other side. You’re already eating, shoving down your emotions with every swallow.

It’s quiet at the table, that prickle still in the back of your mind that something is off lingering. Your omega is picking up on something, but you don’t know what it is. You knew there would be an adjustment period, that things would be hard for a while, but you hadn’t really known what to expect. Maybe this is the start of it. Maybe it’s just the three of you trying to figure out this new dynamic, this new world. It’s new to all three of you, and maybe you just need some time to settle in. Maybe this tingling will go away with time, as the three of you settle more and more into this new routine.

You can only hope.

The days continue to get warmer and warmer, the three of you focusing your efforts outside. You did decide on a garden this year, or at least to try and get something established for coming years. John had jumped right into that plan, buying plants and soil and fertilizer and all the supplies you’ll need to get it started.

That deep feeling that something is off continues to simmer beneath the surface, reaching out its spindly fingers every time you wake to find John gone from the bed, every time you see him so knee deep in a task he forgets the world around him. He’s still waking early, your body becoming in-tune with his early rises. You wake when the bed shifts, blinking in the darkness, rolling into the warm spot he leaves behind, waiting for him to return but he never does.

Some part of you knew they’d wake early. Well, John would. Kyle has taken to his newfound freedom well, sleeping in later than even you some days. You had laughed about it being his body catching up on missed sleep over the years. You wished John would be able to do the same, yet he continues to wake before the sun.

You want to talk about it, but you’re not sure how to broach the subject. There will be push back. You don’t doubt that one bit. You’re just not ready for a fight like that yet. Things have been going so well. The last thing you want is to shatter this veil of domesticity that you’ve put together.

You manage to catch him one morning, when he’s slow to rise from the bed. You roll before he can push himself up, half asleep as your fingers wrap around his arm.

“John,” You slur, tugging at his arm. “Stay.”

Even half asleep you expect him to brush you off, tuck you in and kiss your head. He does hesitate, but then he gives in, climbing back into the bed. You snuggle up to him, giving him no chance of escape as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. You let out a content sigh, wanting to play out the dream of a lazy morning, waking in his arms as the sun rises.

You doze back off for a while, nose pressed against his chest, breathing in his scent.

You wake a couple hours later, still squished up against his chest. Kyle in his sleep has partaken in your master plan to trap John, rolling up against your back, his arm slung across you to rest against John’s hip. It’s warm between them, nearly stifling with the sun shining in the window, but you wouldn’t move if the world was on fire. You’re getting what you wanted, but at the same time, there’s a disingenuous feel to it all. John only stayed because you forced him. He’s likely only still here to avoid waking both you and Kyle.

He’s not asleep. You can tell by the way he breathes. You know him well enough to decipher the changes between his breathing, the tension in his body as he lays there with you. He likely didn’t go back to sleep at all, laying awake while the two of you dozed the morning away. He must be itching to get up, itching to do something with the morning besides sleeping it away.

Kyle wakes with a grunt, disappearing from behind your back as he pushes himself up to sit, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Gotta piss.” He mumbles, crawling down to the end of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

You lay where you are, fingers brushing John’s chest, drawing small patterns against his skin. “Thank you for staying.” You murmur, shifting closer against him.

He hums quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“I think you could have gotten away if you wanted to.” You say, pressing a kiss to his skin.

He lets out a sigh, rolling over until you’re pressed against the mattress under him. “And miss this?”

He has missed this. For days he’s been missing this.

You’d never say that out loud, though.

His face presses into your neck, breathing in your scent. Lips press gentle kisses against your skin, a content hum leaving your lips. Your hand sinks into his hair, neatly trimmed to your disappointment. There’s still time yet to convince him to grow it out.

You yelp as his teeth sink into your skin, pinching it between them. You smack his arm, trying to wiggle out from under him. “Rude!”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the skin he just bit. “You were thinking too much.”

You pout, tugging at his hair until his head lifts from your neck. “I always think too much.”

He hums, leaning down to kiss you. “You’re distracted this morning.”

“I’m distracted every morning, but you wouldn’t know that.”

It slips out before you can stop it, but he elects to ignore it.

He breathes against your lips, hips pressing against your leg. “You’ve been thinking too much this morning too.” You say, feeling the bulge in his sleep pants against your thigh.

His scent is thick in the air, projecting, though whether purposefully or not, you’re not sure. You’re no better than him, warmth starting to bloom between your thighs.

“I leave for two minutes and you’re already getting all worked up.” Kyle says, stepping out of the bathroom.

“We’ve been thinking too much.” John says, pulling back just slightly.

“Clearly.” Kyle says. “Don’t have too much fun.” He makes his way towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You ask, lifting your head up to stare at him.

“To start on breakfast.” He shrugs before leaving the room.

“Loser.” You say, flopping back onto the pillow.

“He’s just set on missing out, then.” John says, his hand resting on your stomach. “Hope he makes a big breakfast. You’re going to need it by the time I’m done with you.”

You let out a whine as his teeth nip at your lip, his hand sliding lower. Oh fuck…

Your legs are still shaking as you sit at the table happily nibbling on a piece of bacon. John sits beside you, sipping his tea and scrolling on his phone. Kyle is seated across from you, making quick work of his eggs and toast.

“Easter’s this weekend.” John says. “Simon and Johnny will be here Friday.”

“I’m shocked they’re not driving up Thursday night.” Kyle says.

“I’m sure Johnny wants to,” You say. “It’s probably Simon making him wait until Friday morning.”

“They’ll get here before midday.” Kyle says. “I’ll put money on that.”

“Johnny will have them on the road before the sun’s up. Lad’s excited to get here.” John says.

“He misses us.” You shrug, spooning eggs into your mouth.

“If it wasn’t for Simon, I don’t doubt he’d have retired too.” Kyle says.

It falls silent for a moment. Of course Johnny would never abandon Simon like that. He’s loyal to his alpha and he’ll follow him wherever he goes, no matter if it means splitting the pack up. You would have liked having Johnny here too, but at the same time, you’re glad Simon has him. The thought of Simon being alone in the barracks tugs at something in your heart. He’d do it, no doubt, but it would be a lonely existence.

“Do you think Simon will ever retire?” You ask quietly, piece of toast in hand, but you can’t bring yourself to take a bite.

“He’ll have to eventually.” John says. “The body wears down and Simon would never take a desk job.”

Or he’ll die in the field.

That truth remains unspoken, but all three of you know that risk. John and Kyle had lived it many times, and you had spent the better part of six months living that reality. Now you’re living it again. Even if the threat isn’t there for your entire pack now, it doesn’t lessen the worry you’ll always carry for Johnny and Simon.

“Do you think he’d ever retire for us?” You ask, voicing the hidden question you’ve had burning at the back of your mind ever since John announced his retirement.

John lets out a heavy breath. “That’s not a question I can answer,” he admits honestly. “You’d have to ask him that yourself.”

“So we’ll never know.” You say quietly, staring down at the last piece of bacon on your plate.

“Simon’s a complex man.” John says softly. “As much as I’d like to think I can, I can’t put myself completely in his head. There’s things he does that surprise even me sometimes.”

“It’ll be good to see them.” You say, cutting off the conversation before you can think too hard about it. “I’ve missed them.”

“So have I.” Kyle says, stealing the bacon off your plate, knowing you’re not going to eat anymore. Your appetite has been spoiled by the heavy topic of conversation. “I bet Johnny will cry when he sees us again.”

“Oh he’s definitely breaking down.” You agree.

“He’s going to cry, and then he’s going straight for the bed.” Kyle chuckles. “Your poor pussy is going to feel every day that he’s been away.”

You wince, squeezing your thighs together at the thought of how much she’s about to go through.

“Simon is going to be just as insatiable.” John says.

“We might as well sleep in the guest room on the air mattress.” Kyle says to John. “Probably won’t be getting much sleep that first night.”

“What, you don’t want to join in?” You ask, staring at them over your mug as you sip your coffee.

John’s gaze darkens, Kyle’s jaw twitching as they stare at you. There’s a sudden tension in the air, their scents starting to thicken.

“As much as we’d enjoy it, they deserve some time with you to themselves.” John says lowly, a subtle growl in his voice.

“We’ve been spoiled, getting to have you whenever we want.” Kyle says, his own voice pitched low and gruff. “Only seems right to give them that chance.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at them, eyes flicking back and forth from John’s gaze to Kyle’s, then back. You feel small under the intensity of their gaze, the back of your neck tingling. A deep part of you is wanting to run, to give them chase, but you wouldn’t make it far. Down the hall maybe. Probably not even into the room.

“Smell that?” John rasps, taking in a deep inhale.

“Thought you wore her out already.” Kyle rumbles.

“Thought I did too.” John’s gaze is dark, another shiver running down your spine.

You can stop yourself as you jump up, racing towards the entrance to the kitchen. They’re on their feet almost as soon as you are, footsteps thudding behind you. You slip on the turn around the corner, flying down the hall to the room.

You just manage to get the door closed, flipping the lock before taking a step back. They’ll get through, you don’t doubt that. Instead your gaze turns towards the window, an idea popping into your head. You don’t care that your barefoot as you climb into the bed, pushing the window open. It gives a bit of resistance from the damp air outside but you get it open just enough to slip through and onto the patio. You take off towards the grass, hearing the sliding door open.

A body hits you from behind, forcing you down into the grass. You just made it off the patio, breathing hard as you land in the tall foliage. Kyle is on top of you, flipping you over onto your back, John right beside him. You’re laughing, kicking out at Kyle as he tickles your sides.

“Little shit.” He grins, not even breathing hard after the short run.

“Giving us chase, you little minx.” John says, pinning down your top half.

“Not my fault you were stinking up the house.” You giggle, giving up the fight.

“Enjoy that did you?” John asks, staring down at you.

“Yeah.” You breathe, staring up into those intense blue eyes.

You can see the thoughts behind those eyes, the ideas his brain is coming up with and storing for later. Another shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

Finally Kyle lets up, leaning his body over yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so he’s chest to chest with you. He grunts softly, catching himself on his elbows.

“We gonna make this a regular thing?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Do you want it to be?” You ask softly.

He smirks. “That’s up to you and how much you feel like running.”

You hum. “Might have to pull out my running shoes again.”

Kyle chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting up on his knees. “Gotta work on that stamina.” He grins, his hand trailing up your side. “Johnny and Simon will get a head start on that.”

You swallow thickly, your scent starting to project again.

“Don’t get her riled up too much.” John says, shifting your wrists into one of his hands, the other dropping to brush across your lips. “She’s already had an exciting morning.”

“I didn’t get to have my fun.” Kyle says.

John releases you as you push yourself up to stand, staring down at him where he sits on his knees. You drag your fingers through his curls tugging his head back. “Maybe you should have stayed then.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping around him, making your way back towards the house.

“Shit,” he breathes, your ears just picking it up as you reach the sliding glass door.

A grin splits your face as you step back into the house, leaving them outside.

The bed dipping again pulls you from sleep. You roll over, reaching out but find nothing but air. The shadowy figure of John disappears into the gaping maw that is the bathroom before the door closes and the light turns on. You lay there in the dark, staring at the strip of light for a moment. You’re half tempted to get up, to beat him to the kitchen, finally confront him about his sleep, but Kyle chooses that moment to roll over and wrap his arms around you. You silently curse him, laying there as the bathroom door opens, John’s shadow making its way across the room and out the door.

You let out a sigh. John hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s up late and rises early, and you know he gets up sometimes during the night. You want to ask, you want to talk to him, but you don’t know how. You’re not sure he would talk to you, if he even could. Something’s up with him and it’s bothering you that you can’t help. Instead you lay there helpless in Kyle’s arms, staring at the wall until your eyes start to droop.

It’s light out when they open again. Kyle’s gone, his warmth fading from the bed. John’s side is cold, just as you expected. You lay there in the blankets for a moment, staring up at the ceiling illuminated by the sun coming in through the window. It’s Friday, which means Johnny and Simon will be on their way here soon, if they aren’t already. They had sounded excited on the call last night, and you can’t help but wonder if Johnny got any sleep. You hope he did considering he’ll be driving.

You climb out of bed finally, pulling on a pair of shorts before heading to the kitchen. The smell of toast and eggs wafts down the hallway, drawing you towards the sounds coming from the kitchen.

“Morning, love.” Kyle says softly, turning to look at you from the stove.

“Morning.” You say, rubbing your eyes as you head for the coffee pot.

John is seated at the table, nursing a tea with his phone in hand. He looks tired, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. You wonder what he does when he wakes so early. Go on a run? Sit and have an existential crisis? Scroll on his phone until his mind is numb and leaking out of his ears?

“Morning, sweetheart.” He murmurs over the top of his mug when you take a seat at the table.

“You were up early.” You say, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re pushing a boundary here, but curiosity is beginning to make you brave.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Is all he says, setting his mug back down on the table. For some reason, it feels like a finality.

If you were braver, you’d push, but you don’t have it in you. Not when he’s looking like this.

Kyle interrupts the moment, or perhaps saves it, as he sets a plate of toast, eggs, and sausages down on the table. You’re not particularly hungry, but you eat anyway, knowing you’re going to need the strength later.

“Johnny and Simon left around 6 this morning.” John says.

“That early?” You frown.

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave earlier.” Kyle says.

“They should be here around noon.” John continues. “Perhaps earlier depending on if Johnny decides the rules of the road are actually rules.”

“Maybe later if he gets pulled over again.” Kyle says.

“He’s been pulled over before?” Your brows raise, though you’re not sure why you’re surprised.

“A few times.” John says. “He’s even gotten out of a ticket a couple times.”

“It’s the charisma and charm.” You say.

“Nah, he just plays dumb.” Kyle says.

“Or that.” You giggle.

The three of you finish breakfast and you set up to make sure the house looks perfect, even with its sparse furniture and décor. You want it to look good for Johnny and Simon. You want their first impression of your nest to be a good one. They’ll probably like it regardless. Anything will beat the barracks, but still, you have that drive to make sure everything is in its place and perfectly aligned.

Noon arrives with great anticipation, and you eagerly await the sound of tires on gravel outside.

You don’t have to wait long, your body up off the couch as soon as you hear the crunch of rocks that make up the front driveway. You fling the front door open, standing there impatiently as Johnny parks next to Kyle’s car.

Simon exits the vehicle first so he’s your first target, your body bee-lining to him automatically, even before you realize it. You almost slam into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as tight as you can, squeezing him like your life depends on it. He lets out a quiet grunt at the impact, but his arms fall around you too.

Tears sting your eyes as you rest against his chest, emotions welling up inside of you. It’s been almost two months since you’ve seen them. Even with the hectic business of the house and settling in, there lingered an ache deep in your chest, the ache of missing the other half of your pack.

Simon’s scent floods your senses and you breathe it in deeply, almost tasting the scent of leather and eucalyptus and the distant tang of gun powder. His own nose is pressed into your hair, breathing in your own sweet scent.

“Missed you, love.”

It’s murmured against the top of your head, rumbling deep in his chest against your ear. Three simple words but they have the tears finally sliding down your cheeks. You missed his scent, his voice, his arms around you. You’ve missed him more than you thought, that ache in your chest all the more noticeable now that he’s back with you. You missed your alpha, his warmth, his comfort, his strength. You’d drop to your knees and beg him to retire right now if you could bear to tear yourself away from his hold.

“Missed you so much.” You whisper, your voice wavering.

His hands rub your back, fingers trailing through your hair. “I’m here.” He whispers, lips pressing against your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you stand there, caught up in the moment for a few breaths, the tears still trailing down your cheeks. You don’t want to let him go. You’d fuse yourself to him if you could.

A voice cuts through the silence, breaking the quiet moment.

“Did ye forget about me?”

You reluctantly pull yourself back from Simon, turning in his arms to blink blearily at Johnny. “No.” You say, reaching out for him. “You wouldn’t let me.”

He nearly slams into you, picking you up off the ground and spinning you. “Oh I missed ye, kitten.”

“I missed you too.” You giggle through the tears, wrapping your arms tight around him. “I missed you so much.”

Johnny sets you back on your feet, cupping your face in his hands as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. He groans quietly as he finally gets a taste of you after months, kissing you hard.

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping tears against your skin. You missed him terribly too, breathing in his soft, warm scent as he pulls your body close against his. His kiss leaves your lips, trailing down your cheek to your neck, his nose pressing into your skin as he inhales deeply.

“Fucking missed this.” He groans, his hands sliding down your back.

“Alright, come on you needy pup.” John says, slapping his shoulder. “Don’t get too excited. You don’t want the neighbors to see.”

Johnny pulls back, looking around at the farmlands that surround you. “What neighbors?”

“Come on,” John says motioning with his head. “I thought you wanted to see the house.”

“I do!” Johnny says excitedly, taking your hand. “Show me this wonderful place, kitten.”

You giggle, wiping the tears from your cheeks with your free hand. “Come on.” You lead him up the steps of the porch to the front door.

“It’s cute.” Simon says, following behind you.

“She’s a little sparse, but I think you’ll see the vision.” You say, leading them inside.

You give them a tour, showing them around the living area and the kitchen, then outside to the patio and the land that stretches beyond, telling them all about your plans and the animals you’ll get soon. Then you head back inside, showing them around the guest rooms and the bathroom before you end in the main bedroom.

“Screamin’ Jesus that’s quite the bed.” Johnny says, toeing off his shoes before jumping onto the mattress.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” You ask, following him up onto the bed. “John got the reinforced frame.”

“Good.” Simon says, crawling on behind you. “I assume you’ve put it to the test already.”

You giggle bashfully. “We’ve put it through some thorough testing.” You lay back against the pillows, staring up at him. “Though there’s still a few things we have to try.”

His gaze darkens as he stares down at you, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “We’re you waiting for us?” His voice is low, rumbling deep in his chest.

You nod, breathless under his gaze. “Yes.”

“Christ in heaven.” Johnny moans, shifting on your other side.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at them, your body starting to buzz excitedly. You’ve missed them so much, their touch, their taste, their smell. Being this close to them again almost makes you dizzy, your mind reeling from the look of them above you, making you feel small beneath them.

“Happy for your reunion, but would you like lunch before you defile our omega?” Kyle’s voice cuts through the moment.

Simon and Johnny both look away, turning to glance at Kyle. They glance back at each other, having a silent conversation before looking back at the other beta.

“Lunch would be great.” Simon says, pushing himself up off the bed.

You pout, pushing yourself up to sit. “But what about me?”

Simon gives you a wicked grin, adjusting his pants. “You can be our afternoon snack.”

A whine leaves your throat at his words, your teeth sinking into your lip again.

You don’t get to be the afternoon snack. The five of you get too caught up talking and getting each other caught up with your lives that it’s dinner before you know it. You help Kyle cook, working on your skills with him so he doesn’t always have to be the one cooking. He doesn’t mind, it’s something to do, but at the same time you feel bad. He deserves a break every so often too.

Dinner passes by quickly, the five of you retiring to the living room after, nursing beers as you relax in post-food euphoria. You’re squeezed on the couch between Simon and John, Kyle and Johnny taking to the floor, spread out on the carpet.

“It’s good to be back together again.” You say, leaning your head on Simon’s shoulder. “I missed this.”

“Aye, it feels wrong to be apart for so long.” Johnny says, leaning back on his hand.

“You can always retire.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Wish it were that easy.” Simon grumbles, leaning his head back against John’s hand. His arm is draped across the back of the couch, fingers playing with the hair at the base of Simon’s head.

“I know.” You say, taking another swig of beer. It tastes like piss but you’re too afraid to say anything, lest you face the teasing of the Brits before you. “So what do you think of the house?” You ask, changing the topic of conversation to something a little more lively.

“It’s cute.” Simon says. “Very much you.”

“Feels homey already.” Johnny says. “Can’t wait tae see it when it’s fully decorated.”

“I approve of the bed choice.” Simon says, his hand dropping to your thigh.

A shiver works its way up your spine, the promise of what’s going to happen later silently conveyed by that one action. You can’t wait, but they seem content where they are, dragging it out for you.

The anticipation only adds to the arousal starting to build within you.

Simon’s hand continues to rest on your thigh as the conversation continues, his thumb stroking your skin. You wish his fingers would slide higher, press against the seam of your shorts where you’re starting to get wet. No doubt your scent is thickening in the air, filling the room with your thick scent.

All four pairs of eyes are on you suddenly, your skin tingling from their gaze. You try and hide behind your beer can, sinking further into the couch.

“Someone’s getting excited.” Kyle smirks.

“Yeah, well, I missed my boys.” You say, taking a big swig of beer, hoping for a little liquid courage.

Simon’s hand finally slides up your thigh, fingers pressing between your legs, feeling the heat there. He slides your shorts to the side, his hand cupping you through your panties. “I’ll say.” He nearly groans, his fingers stroking you through the fabric.

Johnny takes in a deep breath before downing the rest of his beer, setting the can on the coffee table. “I cannae take much more.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. He’s sporting a hard-on, cock bulging through his jeans.

Simon’s hand leaves you as Johnny bends down, his shoulder meeting your middle as he pulls you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeal, hands fisting his shirt to try and keep steady.

“See ye in the morning.” He says, already heading down the hall to the bedroom.

Your back meets the bed, bouncing from the impact as he quickly tears his shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the sight of him, drinking in every last inch of skin revealed to you as he kicks off his pants.

“Eager tonight.” You say, laying back on your elbows.

“Missed ye.” He grunts, nearly catching a foot in his boxers before he kicks them across the room. His cock is hard where it hangs between his thighs, red and angry already. He’s been horny just as long as you have, likely even longer. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was half hard on the drive up here.

His fingers curl under your waistband, yanking your shorts and panties down your legs and off your feet. He pushes your legs open, bending them up so they’re resting against your chest. A curse leaves his lips as he stares down at your soaked folds, his hands sliding down your thighs. You tug your shirt over your head as he leans down, dragging his tongue through your folds.

A deep groan leaves his lips, his eyes rolling back. “Fucking beautiful.”

He buries his face in your pussy, slurping like a man starved. His tongue laps through your folds, drinking up every last drop of your juices that dribbles out of you. You let out a sigh, laying back on the bed as you finally get some friction against your pulsing clit.

He closes his lips around it, sucking hard. Your eyes roll back, toes curling from the pleasure. John and Kyle have ignored you for the last couple days, giving you time to rest and recuperate before this moment, when Simon and Johnny finally got their hands on you again.

A whimper leaves your lips as he’s suddenly pulled back, your head lifting to find Simon standing beside him, hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny’s face is shiny from your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he stares up at Simon.

“Needy little mutt.” Simon says, his gaze focused on Johnny. “Getting started without me?”

“Couldnae help it.” Johnny almost whines, his fingers flexing against your thighs. “Smelled so good.”

Simon hums, fingers releasing Johnny’s hair. “Well then,” he shoves Johnny’s face back towards your pussy. “Do your job and make her cum.”

“Yes, sir.” Johnny murmurs before he’s back at your pussy, lips closing around your clit again.

Simon climbs on the bed beside you, leaning on his arm. His free hand grips your chin, turning your face towards his. You stare up into those deep, dark eyes, a shiver running down your spine from the unmistakable lust in his gaze. His scent is quickly filling the air, mixing with yours and Johnny’s.

Your lips part with a gasp as his hand slides down your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat. Your pulse thrums against his fingers, toes curling from the attention that Johnny is giving to your clit. You’re going to cum, your chest rising and falling quickly as Simon’s hold on you tightens just slightly.

You grip Johnny’s hair, pulling his face harder against your pussy, hips lifting to grind against his mouth. You don’t care that you might be smothering him, and you doubt he cares either as he continues to eagerly slurp at your clit. You continue to hold Simon’s gaze, mouth falling open as you get closer and closer to the edge. Simon’s gaze doesn’t waver, neither does his grip around your throat as he holds you there, keeping you steady while Johnny has you coming undone.

Pleasure comes in waves as you cum, legs shaking against Johnny’s hands as he sucks hard on your clit. It’s almost too much, your back arching off the bed. One hand wraps around Simon’s wrist, holding on for dear life as you gush into Johnny’s mouth. He lets out a groan, lapping up every last drop of slick.

“Good boy.” Simon praises him, finally releasing you to stand back up.

You drop lax on the bed as Johnny finally releases you, kneeling on the floor in front of Simon. Their gazes are locked as Simon starts to undress, tugging his shirt over his head before taking his time undoing his belt. You lay on the bed, watching the moment while trying to catch your breath.

Simon kicks his pants off before climbing onto the bed, moving past you to lounge against the sheets, his cock resting against his stomach. He stares at you and Johnny, arms behind his head looking as causal as can be.

“Well?” he lifts a brow. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You and Johnny share a look before you’re moving, climbing between his spread legs. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock as Johnny climbs up beside you, his arm brushing yours as he leans down, wasting no time. You start to stroke Simon’s cock as Johnny takes his head into his mouth, sucking lightly. You keep your gaze on Simon’s face, his eyes lidded as he watches you.

You push Johnny aside and bend down, flicking your tongue across Simon’s slit, feeling him get harder in your hand. You circle his head with your tongue before prodding at his slit again, still stroking him with your hand.

A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you off of Simon’s cock. Johnny releases you before bending back down, taking Simon’s cock in his mouth. His hand rests on Simon’s thigh as he sinks down until his lips touch your hand where you stroke him. He bats your hand away before sinking even lower, gagging as Simon’s cock hits the back of his throat.

“Show off.” You breathe, shouldering him aside as you take his place, taking Simon’s cock into your mouth.

Johnny’s hand grips the back of your neck but you drive an elbow into his stomach, sinking down as far as you can until you feel your gag reflex start to protest.

A hand tangles in your hair, tugging you up off of Simon’s cock. Simon is holding you, his other hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Both of you stare up at him, drool sliding down your chin.

“Enough.” He growls, releasing you. “Behave.”

You turn to look at Johnny, his face leaning forward to lick the drool off your chin. You let out a choked sound as his lips slide up, meeting yours. You grip Simon’s cock again, both of you leaning down. Your tongues entwine, licking all over Simon’s cock as you start to stroke him again. He’s leaking, precum beading from his slit. Johnny swipes a drop with his tongue, smearing it across Simon’s head. Your teeth scrape the delicate skin of his cock, smirking as you feel the twitch against your hand. He’s close, the heavy rise and fall of his chest visible out of the corner of your eye.

You drop your hand to his balls as Johnny takes him into his mouth again, bobbing his head as he sucks Simon off. A deep groan leaves Simon’s mouth as you massage his balls, feeling them tighten before he cums, spurting into Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny takes every last drop, your hand stroking Simon until he stops twitching. Johnny pulls off of him, your hand darting out to grip his chin before you force your tongue in his mouth before he can swallow. Simon’s cum is bitter on your tongue as you flick it against Johnny’s, his tongue passing some of it to you. You can almost feel the deep groan that leaves Simon, his cock hardening again in your hand.

You swallow down what you got, pulling away from Johnny. Both of you turn to look at Simon, his eyes lidded, mouth parted as he breathes. His hand reaches out for you and you crawl forward, letting him guide you to sit on his stomach. His hand lifts up to brush your bottom lip, cleaning off the residue of drool and cum.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asks quietly, softly, so very different from the commanding presence you had just witnessed.

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good.” He cups your cheek with his hand. “I missed that fucking mouth. Had to put up with that slag for weeks.”

Johnny lets out a whimper, his hand dropping to drag against his own cock.

“Missed this pussy even more.” He says, his hands falling to your waist to drag your hips against his stomach. “Been dreaming about it.”

You rest your hands against his chest, rocking your hips back and forth, dragging your clit against his skin. You’re leaving a wet patch but you don’t care, shamelessly using him for pleasure.

“Now, before I turn you into a little fountain, there’s something I need you to do first.” He cups the back of your neck, pulling you down towards his face. His breath fans your ear as he whispers. “Johnny’s been an awful good boy waiting for this moment. Why don’t you give him the ride of his life and milk him dry with your pussy.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, pushing yourself back up on his chest. You climb off of him, pressing your hands against Johnny’s chest, guiding him to lay next to Simon. He goes willingly, eyes locked with yours as you maneuver him.

You settle yourself over his hips, taking his cock in your hand. It’s already rock hard, tip leaking. He’s not going to last long once he’s inside of you, but that’s all part of this plan. Fuck him till he begs you to stop, no matter what. You just have to outlast him.

His head falls back as you lower yourself onto his cock, a moan leaving your lips at the stretch of him. Simon turns on his side, watching the two of you as you sink down completely, sitting yourself on Johnny’s hips.

“Feel good?” Simon hums.

You nod. “So good. Missed you so much.”

“We know.” Simon says, slapping Johnny’s cheek lightly. “Be a gentleman and watch your omega as she uses you.”

Johnny tilts his head back down, lips parted as you start to move, lifting yourself up before lowering again on his cock. Simon’s hand rests against Johnny’s stomach, his other hand propping himself up as he watches you. Johnny’s hands rest on your thighs, gripping tightly as you bounce on his cock, squeezing around him with every press of his tip against that spot inside of you.

You have to outlast him. You just have to make it longer than him.

He’s not going to last that long.

He’s already twitching, hips jerking under you as you grind your hips, angling yourself so your clit drags across his skin. He’s moaning and whining, fingers dimpling your skin from how tightly he’s gripping you.

He cums quickly, nearly bucking you off as he spills inside of you, but you don’t stop, continuing to fuck yourself on his cock. Simon holds the base of his cock as you continue to bounce, feeling him getting hard again. He’s panting, lips parted as he stares at you, cheeks flushed and eyes shiny. He looks wrecked and he’s only cum once.

“Fucking...Jesus.” he groans, back arching as you continue your movements, pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him. “I cannae take it.”

“You can.” Simon says, moving his hand once Johnny’s completely hard again. “And you will.”

Johnny whines, hands bruising on your thighs as he desperately hangs on, eyes fluttering. You don’t stop despite the ache in your thighs, the sweat soaking your skin. Your stamina isn’t what it used to be, but you ignore the fatigue, grinding against him again, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny’s hands leave your thighs and slide up to your waist, aiding you with every bounce, the sound of wet skin slapping wet skin filling the air.

“Come on,” Simon goads him, sitting up on his knees. “You can do it.” His hand slides behind you, gripping Johnny’s balls.

A curse leaves Johnny’s lips, his back arching as he thrusts up into you, nearly throwing you off of him, but Simon’s other hand settles on your waist, keeping you upright. You’re tired, sweat dripping off your forehead but you don’t stop, not even when Simon’s fingers slide to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bud.

“You too.” He breathes in your ear. “Come on.”

You cum with a cry, legs giving out as you squeeze around Johnny’s cock. Johnny cums with a shout, filling you a second time. He’s shaking too, falling limp beneath you.

“I cannae…I cannae take more.” He gasps, trying to push you off of him.

You lift your hips, letting him slip out of you, his cock landing with a wet smack against his stomach. You lay yourself against his chest as Simon rises, heading for the bathroom. You rest against Johnny for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Fucking better than I remembered.” Johnny breathes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Fucking magical pussy.”

You giggle, that giggle turning into a shriek as Simon flips you off of Johnny onto your back on the bed next to him. There’s a towel under your hips, Simon kneeling between your thighs.

Oh, he wasn’t kidding.

He pushes your trembling legs up, spreading you open before him. “There she is.” He says, eyes locked on your pussy, some of Johnny’s cum dripping out of you. “Isn’t that a sight.”

He moves your hands to hold the backs of your thighs, pussy spread open for him. His fingers rub slow circles over your clit, eyes locked with yours. You’re sure you’re a sight right now. Sweaty face, damp hair sticking to your skin, still shaking from your last orgasm, Johnny’s cum slowly seeping out of your wet pussy. Looking properly wrecked and he hasn’t even started with you yet.

Johnny is beside you, watching with interest. He knows what’s about to happen. He’s not stupid...well, not completely. He might have been fucked dumb but it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what’s about to happen to you.

Simon slides his hand lower, slipping two fingers into you. You whimper, still sensitive after fucking Johnny. Despite that your pussy squelches around his fingers, walls fluttering as he finds that spot inside you. You brace yourself, breathing through the slow thrusts of his fingers against that spot.

You can feel the slow build of pressure, the pleasure starting to thrum under your skin. The anticipation nearly takes you out, toes curling as you wait for him to truly start. His gaze is on your face, watching you as he slowly picks up the pace, pushing his fingers against that spot faster and faster. Your lips fall open, breaths coming in short gasps as the pleasure builds, pussy fluttering uncontrollably.

It gets to be too much, feeling like you might explode as he drives his fingers into that spot, a cry leaving your lips as you squirt all over his hand.

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny breathes, watching your body writhe on the bed, Simon’s fingers driving right back into you, thrusting up against that spot again.

Simon’s hand presses against your stomach, pinning you down as you try to writhe away. “One more.” He grunts, thrusting his fingers hard against that spot before you squirt again, soaking his hand and the towel. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to recover, slotting himself between your legs and thrusting into you. Your pussy stretches around him, not even Johnny able to fully prepare you for the size of him. You fall limp against the bed, Simon tossing your legs over his shoulders before he’s thrusting into you, snapping his hips against yours. You reach out, gripping Johnny’s arm as your back arches, your fluttering pussy squeezing around Simon’s big cock as you ride one orgasm into another.

It’s too much, your vision swimming as you try to breathe. You feel like you’re floating, the pleasure almost painful as he snaps his hips against yours, grinding the tip of his cock against that spot inside of you. He’s grunting and growling, hands gripping the comforter under you. You can’t do anything but lay there and take what he’s giving you, your legs trembling uncontrollably as he wrings another orgasm out of you.

“Fucking shit.” He groans, hands pinning you to the bed as he fucks you hard, driving the tip of his cock into your spot over and over. You can feel it building again, that unmeasurable pressure as tears leak out of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations. “Come on.” He grunts, driving his hips upward. “One more for me.”

He thrusts into you hard, hips meeting your ass as you squirt around his cock, your vision going dark from the pleasure.

“I think ye killed her.” Johnny’s voice reaches you through the ringing in your ears.

You’re shaking all over, body limp on the bed as you blink bleary eyes up at Simon. He’s still above you, one hand stroking the tears from your cheeks.

“There she is.” He says softly, gently easing your legs from his shoulders. “Welcome back.”

“I think he’s right.” You rasp, body still trembling. “I think you killed me.”

Simon chuckles, pulling himself out of you. Cum and slick seeps from your pussy, adding to the damp spot already soaking through the towel. “You did so good for me.” He praises you, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. “Took me so well.”

You pull him down against you, sweat mixing with sweat as you hold him for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone,” you say, your fucked-stupid brain forgetting to whisper. “But your cock is my favorite.”

Johnny goes to protest, but he stops himself. “Ye know after that, I don’t blame ye kitten.”

Simon chuckles, pushing himself back up. “Let’s get you both cleaned up.”

He uses the towel to wipe between your thighs before taking it to the bathroom, adding it to the hamper. He grabs a clean cloth, wetting it before coming back, wiping you down, then Johnny. You manage to get your body to roll over, cuddling up against Johnny’s side.

“That was good, kitten.” He says, kissing your forehead. “Got my cock achin’.”

“I think my pussy needs rehydrating.” You murmur, sleep already starting to tug at the back of your brain.

Simon maneuvers the covers out from under you, tucking in you and Johnny before sliding in behind you after turning out the light. He tucks himself against your back, tossing an arm over you.

“Missed you a lot.” You slur, half asleep already.

“I know.” Simon says, kissing the back of your head. “We missed you a lot too. Not just your pussy, but every part of you. Your presence, your humor. Having someone there to protect and take care of. It’s not the same without you.”

You make a small noise, wiping your sweaty forehead. “Who knew all I needed to do was leave for two months and suddenly you’d get sentimental.”

Simon grunts, pulling you and Johnny tighter against him. “Don’t get a big head, you little shit.”

You can’t help but smile, comforted by his words. At least you know they do miss you.

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[cap-winter-barnes]

Home (Tyler Owens x Reader)

You're soaked to the bone, clothes torn, bloody and clinging to your skin. Hair plastered to your face, blooding running down your face like tears. The wind still howls around you as you help people to safety, Tyler by your side. The gash on your forehead is numbed by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You've always loved storm chasing, but this time it's different, too close to home.

That moment in the motel pool, clinging to the piping for dear life, Tyler moments from slipping through your fingers - that was the most terrifying moment of your life. Yet here you are still riding your fears.

As the streets of El Reno begin to tumble and tear apart before your eyes, you push forward, trying to save as many people as you can. With no space in the small number of bunkers, basements & shelters there are, you have no choice but to guide everyone to the movie theatre.

"Y/N!" You turn at the sound of Tyler's voice above the cacophony of chaos around you. You still lose you breath every time you look at Tyler Owens and fall in love with him like it's the first time you met all over again. "Baby Girl, we need to get inside before it's too late." His hand wraps around your forearm, pulling you closer to his side.

Tyler was the one who brought your love of storm chasing to life, made your childhood dreams a reality. Your parents thought you were crazy to go off with the self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wrangler' but upon learning the reason behind his dangerous adventures and of your utter happiness and adoration of the man, they came to terms with your decision.

With a chaste kiss to your forehead, Tyler takes your hand in his and pulls you along hurriedly toward the movie theatre. Gathering the last few families through the doors with you and taking a glance back at the fast approaching tornado, you close the door behind you. Once inside the theatre, hunkered down between rows of chairs, the adrenaline begins to fade.

With the horrendous sound of the rain, wind and destruction echoing around the large space, panic begins to set in. This building wasn't made to withstand such a destructive force of nature. Tears spring to your eyes as your fear takes over. The cut on your forehead still bleeding, throbbing above your eyebrow. "Ty?" He can barely hear you above the roar of the storm above you, chunks of ceiling ripping away into the sky. "Ty?"

"I'm here Baby Girl, I'm here." You feel him wrap his body around yours as you both lay on the ground, arms tightly wrapped around them to keep you anchored. His warmth envelopes you and the smell of him immediately calms you somewhat. "I'm here, I gotcha." Sobs wrack your body as you try to take your mind away from this godawful situation. You should be celebrating your engagement but instead you're fighting for your lives. "I gotcha, darlin'. We're gonna go home after this." He kisses your temple, his body wrapping tighter around yours as the eye of the storm grows closer. "Wherever you wanna call home, that's where we'll go. We'll st-"

What's left of the movie screen disappears as the wall is torn away from the building, debris and innocent people being ripped away with it. Your fear returns tenfold, Tyler holding on with all his strength to protect you. His life, his home. "We'll start that family we talked about, hmm?" He presses his cheek against your own. "We're gonna make it through this, darlin'. I promise."

You turn to face him, noses brushing against each other. "I promise you, baby." You waste no time in pressing your lips to his own, the taste of blood, dirt and tears on your tongue as you press yourself to him.

"I love you."

"I love you, Baby Girl." You rest your forehead against his as you both prepare for the worst. The building shudders and shakes, groaning against the worsening wind speed. With eyes closed tightly, hands wound around each others, both you and Tyler hope with all your might that you survive this. But no matter what, you were home. Tyler is your home.

[ceesimz]

Wings (part one)

You return to the Norway National Team. (autistic!reader)

Reverie fics here! I've put a lot of time and care into this one as I wanted it to feel absolutely right because it's been a plot point since the very first few paragraphs of the original reverie story. So, I really hope I've done it right and done it justice and that you all believe it fits too🙃 (and a p.s. thank you to @pickledwoso for coming up with some perfect ideas for me to work with and keeping me sane whilst writing, v v v grateful <3)

“Ingrid, I have something to tell you.”

It felt right to tell her the decision you’d come to only a few hours before, in a cable car somewhere in Norway; the decision you never thought you would be able to make again. A decision you knew Ingrid had hoped to hear for years.

“Okay.” Ingrid said sceptically, dragging out the ‘y’ at the end as she did so.

You held the phone away from your ear for a second, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Bringing up the idea to Alexia had been one thing. Telling Ingrid about your intentions was another. It made it… real. Very real. And the words felt alien on your tongue, you sort of felt like they didn't belong to you. But, as Alexia and your family had encouraged you to the highest degree, welcoming and respecting and celebrating your decision with open arms, they did belong to you.

“I…” That deep inhale came right back out. Your mouth was dry and when there was a lump in your throat that prevented you from speaking clearly, your voice trembled and cracked with nearly every syllable in your next words. “I think I might try to… come back to the national team.”

For Ingrid, who was some hundred miles away in the same country, that might have been the last thing on earth she thought you would say in that moment. Not because she didn’t believe in you, of course not. That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“You are serious!?” The dark-haired woman exclaimed, almost leaping out of her chair where she sat at the dinner table with her family. Her brother rolled his eyes, used to her theatrics, meanwhile her parents glanced up at her with an anticipatory look.

Ingrid had been thinking about your situation with the national team for quite a while. She was certain that, at this point of your life, she could put her hand on her heart and say you would flourish if you went back. But you never spoke about it, so she never spoke about it, because it was a line she didn’t want to cross as it could have been catastrophic if she did. You had spent months thinking about your decision to leave all those years ago, you were a shadow of yourself as you struggled with the hectic nature of the career you’d delved into once the popularity of the women’s side grew, as well as the unkind and unfair treatment of the staff at the time. You almost didn’t come out the other side of it. 

Your best friend had had a front row seat to how beautiful your life had turned out after your move to Barcelona. And this, well… she knew it would make your self-esteem, your confidence, your faith in yourself, it’d all sky-rocket. She didn’t have the words to express how utterly proud she was of you; it consumed her whenever she saw you smile, laugh, joke around with your teammates without overthinking everything or just going mute to prevent the possibility of an ounce of embarrassment. Whenever a tough situation came your way, you took your time to figure out the best way to get through it, and faced it head-on. You’d taken these last few years to discover yourself, to find out what you needed, what you were best at, and who you wanted in your life. There wasn’t a more perfect time to take advantage of all those lessons learnt, and tackle the one final thing that weighed on your mind.

“I think I might be.” 

The squeal you were met with was deafening. However, despite how the pitch of it almost made your ears bleed, it overwhelmed you with relief. It didn’t matter that your fellow Norwegian hadn’t actually said anything yet, because that reaction spoke volumes. Literally.

“I am speechless.” Were the words she finally did land on. There was some hushed speaking in the background before you heard her excuse herself, followed by the sound of quick and heavy footsteps until it sounded like she slumped back onto her bed with a dreamy sigh. “You are joining the national team again.”

“Might, Ingrid. I might.” You corrected her, cautious that she was getting ahead of herself. Then, she had the audacity to click her tongue like it was you in the wrong. “There needs to be a lot of thinking going into it. I can’t just do it on a whim. I need to plan, and talk about it, maybe meet with the staff, I need to see what support they can give to me and h-”

“Okay, okay. I know this. Just let me be excited for a moment, let yourself be excited.” You could hear the smile on her face as she spoke, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t ease your anxiety a little. “We can plan it all another time, not right now. Be happy for yourself, this is a big milestone.” 

Alexia, who had stepped out the room a little while ago to give the two of you some privacy, walked back in at that moment when you let out another deep breath, trying to will away the pit of nausea in your stomach. She expected you to be done on the phone now considering it had been a bit of time, however she was none the wiser to the twenty minutes of hesitation you had at pressing the call button. The door closed softly behind her and she leaned back against it, waiting and giving you the space you needed. 

Honestly, having her there as you talked with Ingrid was comforting. Much more comforting than you thought. You weren’t sure why that was and when your opinion about such a situation had changed; normally these were situations where you did need to be on your own. It was a subtle change, it happened without you knowing, but it was a pretty big one. Having Alexia there helped to remind you that you could do this. 

“It is.” You placated quietly, tracing your finger along the scratches and dents in the wooden desk that’d been in your bedroom since you were a teenager. “I am excited. Just very worried, and… stuff.”

“I am so proud of you.” Ingrid rushed out suddenly, and there was quite a significant amount of emotion in her voice then. “So proud. I- oh my god.”

“What?” You said, somewhat concerned at the slight shock she seemed to be experiencing. It was all explained when, no less than a second later, Ingrid bursted out into full-on sobs. “Ingrid, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m okay.” She blubbered, to which you turned to Alexia with a slightly amused glance until you felt tears brewing as well. “Just proud. So proud. I can’t even say how proud.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You mumbled shyly whilst she continued to cry. It was all very… dramatic. But it also couldn’t have gone any better than it did. 

“When we get back to Barcelona, I’m gonna come see you and I’m gonna hug the life out of you, okay?” Ingrid said sternly, and it was that determination of hers that made your first tear fall. “And then we’re going to make a plan together. We’ll get whoever we need. Me, you, Ale, maybe Caro or Esmee or Frido, whoever you need. We’ll sort things out and make sure you get to do this how you want, how you need. I promise.”

“Okay.” You nodded though she couldn’t see you. Another tear fell, and you realised you felt way too many things then to be able to express what you wanted. It was a flaw you loathed, but a flaw other people accepted. So you learned to accept it too. “I love you, Ingrid.” 

“I love you too. I know you don’t like phone calls so I’m going to let you go, but just in case you didn’t know already, I am really proud of you for this.” You let out a huff of amusement and smiled at her. “Please text me whenever you need to about it, no matter when or what it is. Anything you need, snuppa. Always. I’ll see you soon.”

You thanked her, bid her goodbye, hung up, let your phone fall to your lap, and covered your face with your hands. Alexia waited a minute or two, trying to gauge your feelings, a frown on her face at the sporadic sniffles that came from you. She cautiously took a few steps closer as you leaned forward and took your hands away, resting your arms on the desk and your chin atop them.

“Ingrid is really happy about it.” You murmured, breaths stuttering as you told her. Alexia smiled and came to stand beside you, going to put a hand on your back before hesitating, and opting for the back of your chair instead.

“That’s good.” She hummed, to which you nodded. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” 

Her smile doubled in size and she moved behind you, her arms wrapping around you and her hands landing on top of yours, her chin on your shoulder as she pressed her lips against your cheek.

“You should be. You should be so proud. We’ve all got you through this, I love you.”

You would never tire of hearing that.

—

Ingrid really wasn't lying when she said she'd hug the life out of you next time you were together. In fact that might have been an understatement. 

At your favourite café, the one you had your first date and were soon to plan your biggest personal milestone at, you were nearly hugged to death by the person that'd watched you grow and had helped you get to this point. Alexia laughed quietly from her chair at the surprise on your face, clearly having underestimated the truth in Ingrid's promise. But then the three of you sat down together, Ingrid across from you with Alexia beside you, and delved straight into it. They didn't hover on the novelty of the decision, knowing too much attention on it might cause you to shut down and close off about it. 

You spent almost two hours with them, making a plan and discussing what accommodations and support you would need to make sure things went as well as possible. An initial list was written, and once you had spent some time thinking about it and finalising everything, then you'd tell the staff at the Norway National Team that you intended to return. Your target was the February international break, but you hadn't written off the possibility that might be too soon. Ingrid and Alexia did well to remind you that it didn't matter when you went back. All that mattered was that you felt you were in a place that you wanted to go back. That was enough of an achievement in itself.

Some days you woke up determined that you could do it, it’d be a breeze, and nothing could dim your excitement. Other times, you were wracked with anxiety. So much so, it was hard to think clearly about it, which is where Alexia and Ingrid came in. Any time you got too overwhelmed at the fucking gigantic obstacle that stood before you, they brought you right back to reality. They gently eased your concerns, offering solutions and words of wisdom and comfort and rationality, to the point you wondered why you’d gotten so worked up in the first place. That happened countless times over breakfast at the café, and you got through it with the end result being a plan to get you back where you belonged.

“I think this is a good starting place now, no?” Alexia smiled over at you and Ingrid whilst you put the lid on your pen and slumped back in your chair, inhaling deeply.

The list was fairly long, featuring things like you getting to choose who you room with or even maybe rooming on your own (though you were sure you’d most likely want to be Ingrid for some peace of mind), making sure there was no pressure to participate in anything you didn’t want to do social wise, being able to drop out of camp at any point should you need to, having the final say in if you want to play in the matches or not, and a number of other things too. It was a good starting place, you were satisfied with the things the three of you had brainstormed so far. Though, it hadn’t done a thing to ease your overall anxiety. Sure, these things might help, but it’s still a terrifying thing to go through with.

After all, what if the staff there just say… no? To your requests? You can ask for help but you can't choose how people decide to help you, which makes such a crucial step so petrifying to approach. Especially when they had no qualms in doing so in the past, and it was probably why you never wanted to tell anyone at Frankfurt about your disability.

You’re an adult, you don’t need these things.

It’s unfair if we make these accommodations just for you and nobody else.

You’re being ridiculous and unnecessary, you have nothing to be so anxious about. 

If you can't handle it, maybe you don't belong here.

Those were the kind of things they said to you back then and they still echoed around your mind anytime you thought about asking for support from anyone. What people don’t understand is that they have a much longer lasting impact than most realise. For the people saying them, they’re just a momentary thing, they’ll forget they said them an hour after the conversation ends. That’s not the reality for you. Hours, days, weeks, months, years after, their words will continue to taunt you and mock you, adding fuel to the fire of the malicious thoughts your brain musters up whenever you’re struggling.

The fact that your entire experience anywhere in the world lies in the hands of the reactions and opinions of other people, both in terms of support and general behaviour, is… there’s no words to describe the fear it induces. A large portion of the world won’t ever need to even worry about having to go through that, yet they’re the ones controlling the puppet strings. It’s very ironic, and unfair.

“It is. Anything else?” Ingrid asked you gently, to which you shook your head. Your face communicated differently, like you still had a million and one things on your mind, which didn’t surprise either of them. “What are you thinking? Anything for right now or shall we finish up?”

The two of them gave you your space to think as you decided whether to voice these fears or not. They’d heard them a hundred times, Ingrid especially, but you still had them anytime you did something new and it would always be this way. 

Your mouth opened and closed a couple times as the last remnants of hesitation slipped away, before you took a sip of your water and spoke afterwards.

“There is so much that’s out of my control.” You began, talking almost in a whisper as the weight of your fear prevented you from speaking any louder. Like, if your voice was half a decibel higher, the staff at the national team all the way in Norway would come storming into the cafe with pitchforks at the ready. “I tried for years to advocate for what I need and they hardly gave me anything. They could just do the same again.”

Alexia knew that was something Ingrid would have to answer to; not only because it was the team Ingrid played for as well, but also because… she’d had to fight for things at Spain camp too, everyone knew that, and everyone knew that things didn’t go well and still weren’t going well. So, instead of floundering to find the right words she didn’t have, she reached out to put her hand on your knee. Within a second, your hand slipped under hers, and she squeezed it instantly to offer some more comfort. You glanced at her and just one look at her face, at her soft smile that spoke volumes of her confidence in you and her eyes that were so loving and free of judgement, it grounded you. How was that possible?

“The staff that are there now aren’t the same as who were there in the past. There has been a lot of reshuffling over the years to try and make it a better place for everybody and I’m certain that it is much better. I would never lie or sugarcoat that, I mean it absolutely.” Ingrid answered honestly, and you could tell by the seriousness in her face that she did mean it absolutely. You looked at Alexia again for a moment, feeling extra secure in the response to your question when she nodded, even if she had no idea whether Ingrid was telling the truth or not. “The only person that is still there is Heidi, who you-”

“She does the best kjøttkaker med potetmos!” 

At the mention of the one person that still worked for the national team, your face and mood lit up. Ingrid grinned and nodded, whilst Alexia chuckled softly with a shake of her head. Even in the time you’d been with her, which was years after you last played for Norway, Alexia had heard all about Heidi’s, one of the chefs hired by the team, excellent cooking, especially for one of your favourite safe foods from back home. 

…surely, in only a few years, she hadn’t lost her talent?

“She’ll be so happy to see you again, kjære.” That reminded you of another worry you had.

“What about everyone else?” You mumbled sheepishly, insecurity clear in your tone that had your girlfriend frowning beside you. 

“Trust me, they will all welcome you back with open arms. Please don’t doubt that for a second.” Ingrid said firmly, ensuring she didn’t leave any room for you to still fear such a thing. 

It was understandable, of course it was. Both Ingrid and Alexia knew why you would be worried – in situations like that, the people you’re surrounded by could make or break your experience entirely. Regardless, it still killed them to hear you sound so uncertain if your return would be well received, and it hurt them even more that they couldn’t swear on their lives that it would, because it was just an unknown where the only way to tackle it was… by going through it. 

If they could change the world to make it a better experience just for you, no matter the cost for their own livelihoods, they would do it in a heartbeat. They didn’t believe it was fair you had to live with these anxieties all the time, but if they could help by at least being there for you, then they would settle for that.

“Don’t forget that you aren’t doing this alone, engel.” Alexia chipped in softly as her hand squeezed yours once more. “You will have Ingrid there, Caro, Frida, Maren. There will be some you haven’t met or spent much time with and it’s normal to be worried about meeting them, but you won’t have to do that alone. You’ll have people there that love you. And I will only be a phone call away, for anything.” 

These were all things that, when you were in the right mindset to think rationally, you knew. The anxiety that’s experienced with autism is a hard thing to describe, it’s different to a general anxiety disorder. Anxiety from an autistic perspective doesn’t involve just the fear of the unknown, it’s the chaos and the unpredictability of what is known. You know there’s people out there that hate you because of how your brain works, they could be next to you and you wouldn’t know until you do something that ‘provokes’ a reaction from. You know there’s people out there that believe you’re weak, that you’re worth less than the average human because of some minor things you can’t do, that are waiting for you to trip up so they can make a laughing stock of you. You know there’s people out there that are looking for an excuse to use your disorder against you. And there’s almost nothing you can do about it.

Nothing, but live your life how you want to. So that’s what you’ll do.

“Okay. I think that might be it for now.” You decided as, by that point, you were a little overwhelmed and in need of some time to process everything that had been discussed and planned. The two of them nodded, but they didn’t say anything. Ingrid especially just… looked at you. Very peculiarly. “What’s that face for?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, though it was very clear she was fighting off a rather large grin. Then, it hit you what she was thinking and dying to do.

“Don’t say i-”

“I’m just so proud of you.” She beamed, and it was a miracle she didn’t start running laps of the café judging by the excitement on her face. You groaned and rolled your eyes, covering your face with your hands as Alexia laughed and put an arm around your shoulder to pull you into her side. 

“I’m so proud of you too.” The blonde murmured, her lips grazing your temple in a soft kiss that had Ingrid rolling her eyes at the hopeless state of you both. 

“We’re done. Home time.” You told them, shy and a little embarrassed under their constant praise, standing abruptly in your chair. They laughed, not at all offended because it was so you, and stood up too.

The three of you tucked your chairs in, you folded up the piece of paper your list was on, slipped it into your pocket, then suddenly found yourself in the centre of a group hug.

“Gruppeklem!” Ingrid called out a tad too loud for the small café you were in, though you didn’t find yourself caring. As they wrapped their arms around you and embraced you tightly, literally surrounding you with their love, you realised you couldn’t care less about the people around you when these two were by your side at all times. 

Despite how well the planning had gone, the topic was still on your mind for the rest of the day – a day which was relaxed, with no plans, to allow you the time to come down from your stresses and process the onslaught of information you’d taken in over breakfast.

Luckily, you had the perfect solution to all your problems that evening.

A combination of two of your favourite love languages: physical touch and quality time. However, it wasn’t quality time in the normal sense, rather for people like you, it was more commonly called parallel play. Being in the same space as Alexia whilst you both did your own individual things, in your own worlds, was something you adored and wouldn't ever be able to describe why. And you both were in your own worlds; you playing a video game on the TV whilst Alexia had her nose stuck in whatever true crime book she’d chosen that week. 

The midfielder was lay back against the sofa cushions as you sat against the arm of it, your legs across her lap and her hand on your thigh trailing her fingers absentmindedly, the only time she stopped being when she turned a page. Dinner had been and gone, it was late evening by that point, and a good forty minutes had passed since you last exchanged even just a word with each other. Because it wasn’t necessary.

On the other hand, Alexia knew that your mind was going a million miles per hour, she swore she could almost hear it. Instead of disturbing you, she let you be, like always. You would come to her if you needed it, which was exactly what you did. Even though you knew you were probably getting a bit repetitive at this point, sometimes you just needed a single reminder to put you at ease.

When you paused your game, Alexia noticed, but she didn’t react. You seemed hesitant to speak, though she knew you would eventually, so she didn’t push. You were almost certain you didn’t love anything else in the world more than how well Alexia knew you.

“You seriously think I can do this?” You whispered. 

In an instant, her book was closed and her attention was on you. Her now free hand reached out for yours, her head dropped back against the cushions, and she gazed at you with a smile that revealed her answer before she even spoke. 

“I have never been more confident in anything in my life, than I am in you right now.” 

Well, what more could you ever need?

“That’s a bold statement, Ale.” You teased her lightly, a hint of a smile on your face with some pink cheeks that Alexia swore was her favourite sight in the world. 

“It is one I believe in and you should too.” The look she fixed you with was a mix of sternness and softness, but it did little to settle you much. With a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she gently pushed your legs off of her and shuffled closer to sit on the edge of the couch, putting her hands on either of your cheeks. She kissed your forehead, a featherlight brush of her lips that caught you off guard with the pure tenderness of it, before she gave you that same look from a moment ago. “Stop thinking for tonight, okay? It’s not doing you any favours, so stop. Give yourself a rest. What can I do to help?” 

You shrugged, not giving yourself a second to consider it because you didn’t want to ask for anymore from her. Until she raised her eyebrow at you, a light scolding that made you laugh quietly.

“Can’t we just… lay here, together? You help without even having to do anything.” You sounded incredibly shy as you answered her, she couldn’t help but grin in turn. Though, secretly, that was an admission that she was sure she would remember forever; it was all she could wish for. 

So for the rest of the evening, that’s exactly what you both did. Alexia instructed that you lay on top of her with your head on her chest, which you were more than happy to comply with, and she resumed her story as you put on a show on the TV. One hand held her book whilst the other slid under your shirt, splaying out on your back and soothingly tracing shapes with her fingernails up and down. Then, the two of you retired to bed later on, and you woke up the next morning without feeling like an elephant was seated right upon your heart. God only knows where you would be without Alexia.

—

February came around much sooner than you anticipated, which meant it was time to leave. You decided a few weeks before that this was the right time to go, and with some back and forth meetings with the necessary staff, your accommodation requests had been met. Without any hesitation or argument or frustration. It went… oddly smooth.

The meetings and video calls were not good for your heart due to the anxiety they caused, but Alexia was there by your side when she could and you got through them all like they were nothing. Most importantly, you stood your ground. If someone suggested something else or wasn’t sure if it could be done, you hardly flinched, and assertively told them exactly what it was you were asking for. It was kind of hard not to be distracted during them when Alexia would grin like a proud maniac off camera every time you advocated for yourself.

And fortunately for you, by some miracle, the day you both had to leave her flight was later than yours, so you managed to spend the morning together where she helped to make sure you were absolutely ready to go, both in the sense of packing and how you were feeling mentally. You’d never reach a perfect state of mind about going, you were still an anxious wreck, but it was more nerves than anything else. You were prepared, you were ready, you wanted to do this and you were going to do it. Not only that, you were going to try your damned hardest to make sure it went well. 

When you received the call that you were officially part of the lineup for the next camp, and when you saw your name in the call-up announcement, it was an unmatchable feeling. Sure, you already knew that you were going to be part of it considering it was all you thought about for weeks, but having your name down with your teammates, old and new, there were no words to describe it. 

You were minding your business when the email came through, in the physio room after training for Barça when your phone went off with the notification. With no idea what it could be, you opened it, only to gasp so intensely you could have actually created a blackhole in the room for a second. Where in the past you would have kept that moment to yourself, you couldn’t help but turn to Esmee on the bed beside you and show her it. Her reaction was somewhat like yours, just a little less oxygen-stealing and a bit more reserved. She hardly had time to give you a hug before you were darting out the room and beelining straight for the locker room.

In the midst of your rushing, you nearly knocked over three different members of staff, all of which received flustered apologies from the culprit, you, who was already rounding the corner and out of sight. You hadn’t ever run so fast in your life outside of a football pitch, and you then gave each teammate the fright of their lives by how utterly loud the door slammed open. But it was worth it to see you so consumed by joy, it was written all over your face the minute you walked in. You didn’t exactly mean to announce the news to everyone in there, you only intended to tell Alexia and Ingrid what had happened, but in your excitement you sort of forgot to keep your voice at a minimum. That meant that one second, everybody was quiet and intrigued at what had caused such a reaction, and the next they were all surrounding you with their pride and their congratulatory words when you burst out the news. 

You knew the time would come at any point after you had your last call with them, yet it still took you by surprise. It was one of the best feelings you ever had. And for once, the anxiety didn’t completely overboard you, you were on cloud-nine and your mind let you. 

Until you actually had to leave, and the moment you were stood by the door with your suitcase, heart racing unbearably fast as you said goodbye to Alexia, it all came flying straight back. 

You were, on paper, back where you belonged. But you had to actually get there first, which was a challenge in itself because it felt like the second you stepped out the door and closed it behind you, there really was no going back.

Though, you had to do it eventually as no amount of stalling with minutes spent in Alexia’s embrace was going to hold off the inevitable. It’s just that… two weeks apart from her sounded really unappealing. This international break felt different than the rest – whereas beforehand you would stay in Barcelona as Alexia went to Madrid or whatever country she was playing in for Spain, this time you were obviously heading to Norway. You were grateful that both games for you were played at home, but god you were going to miss her during the break more than you ever had when you’d been apart.

With a sickening amount of reluctance, you eventually did manage to drag yourself away from her and down to the car where both Ingrid and the driver had been waiting a bit longer than they’d hoped for you.

Then, a couple hours later, you were in Norway.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here.” You breathed out shakily as you and Ingrid stood before the hotel the team had booked in Oslo.

“You are actually here.” Ingrid beamed beside you, her arm linked through yours and nudging you out of excitement.

First order of business was finding your room, that was easy. But after that, there was a whole team dinner. Hell.

“I think I might be sick.” You swallowed nervously as the woman beside you laughed and shook her head.

“We’ve got this! Are you ready to go in?”

“‘Ready to go in,’ she asks.” You scoffed, though you contradicted yourself with how you headed towards the entrance. Ingrid tried her best to control her excitement, but she was very self-aware at the fact she probably looked somewhat in pain due to the intense smile she was holding off. Thankfully for her pride, however, you stopped in your tracks just outside the doors to go in, and in turn she frowned a little. You glanced at her, then the doors, and back at her again. “You’ll stick with me always?”

There was only one suitable reply from Ingrid.

“Like glue, søster.”

If there was anyone that stuck to their word, it was her. And it was that final push that gave you an ounce of confidence that was enough to go inside. 

Luckily, the two of you were some of the first to arrive, and the others that also had were already up in their rooms, which made your first order of business just that bit easier. Introductions could be saved for later, at dinner.

A whole team dinner. Where the whole team would be. The team you hadn’t seen in years, or hadn’t even met. The team that could either love you or hate you for not representing your country once in the last few years. The team where each person would do anything for the crest on their jerseys, the names on their backs, and the anthem that played before each match.

What on earth had you done.

“Ingrid, I don’t know if I can do this.” You fretted a little later in your room after spending some time there, unpacking and overthinking, before you were due down for dinner. Time had gone far too fast for your liking. 

Ingrid had a hand on the door handle as you stood behind her, shaking with nerves and sick to the pit of your stomach. Even forgetting what felt like your inability to socialise and greet people in that moment, you probably wouldn’t even be able to stomach a forkful of food during the meal either. It was merely a recipe for disaster.

“You can, I believe in you. I’ll be there the whole time, alright? You know that. Once you get there and get sat down, we’ll be okay.” She reassured you. 

God knows how many times she’d uttered those words or similar over her life, yet she had no qualms doing it then and probably forever. It never failed to amaze you how much patience this woman had.

At that, you followed her out the room and down to the hotel restaurant with a feigned confidence that you wore like armour. If you told yourself you belonged, maybe you would start to believe it. So that’s what you did; you walked in, head held high and a calm expression on your face that you hoped worked as a good disguise for the absolute reactor meltdown happening inside your mind. Alarms going off, red lights flashing, system on overdrive, workers in hazmat suits running riot like headless chickens, buzzers beepi-

“Is this table okay?”

It was one of the ones at the back of the room, a little bit away from the front where Gemma, the manager, would stand with the rest of her staff to welcome everyone back. 

Oh fuck. Would she welcome you back and make a big deal out if it?

“Kjære?” Right.

“Sorry, yes, here is fine. We’re the first ones here?” You asked, looking around at the sparse room apart from the cooking staff setting up off to one side.

“Looks like it.” 

Over the next ten minutes or so, your teammates slowly began to trail in. Each one came over after spotting Ingrid first, until they spotted you. And every time, their faces lit up immeasurably more when they realised who they'd bumped into. 

They were happy to see you. Or at least they seemed it, you weren't a mind reader so could only take their kindness at face value. One by one, they took their time to catch up with you or to properly introduce themselves, bright smiles on their faces and their tones welcoming. Maren and Ada gave you a huge hug, Caro wandered over with a quietly proud look in her eye, Frida immediately took a seat beside Ingrid and delved the three of you into conversation. Karina, Teri, and Celin filled the rest of the table after greeting you, followed by a couple others coming over before finding their seats within the room.

And as simple as that, the hardest part was over.

Did your hands tremble like a magnitude 8.0 earthquake? Yes. Did the amount of strangers in the room terrify you? Undoubtedly. But did you make it through regardless? Of course you did.

You were capable of so much more than your anxious mindset gave you credit for. It was cruel and it was evil, the tricks it’d play on you to make these sorts of things seem much more daunting then they were, but some things would never change and the terror that filled you in the anticipation and the build up to a nerve-wracking occasion was certainly one of them. 

You’d built the situation up in your head so much that when you got through the ‘scariest’ part, you didn’t exactly know what to do with yourself or where to go next. All your focus had been on meeting everyone again, when it was over, it all felt very… anticlimactic. T’was a little humbling.

“You coming to get dinner? There’s someone there waiting for you.” Ingrid grinned slyly. Apparently you were so deep in your daydreams you’d missed how everyone had left to go collect their meals. That was a habit you could never shake off. 

You stood and trailed behind the dark-haired woman, queueing up along with the team and slowly padding your way to the front. You heard her gasp before you saw her.

“Look who's back!” Heidi. God was it such a relieving sight to see someone you knew, someone that worked for the national team that didn't resent you when you asked for what you needed like they all did in the past. It was refreshing, relieving, and the exact perfect reminder that it wasn’t all doom and gloom, if at all.

The older woman didn’t hesitate in rounding the corner of the buffet setup to engulf you in a bear hug that felt comforting, like a warm welcome back. 

“It’s so good to see you again.” You told her, only for her to squeeze you harder, almost forcing the oxygen out of your lungs with the sheer strength of it.

“You don’t say!” She let out a hearty laugh, and despite the years that had passed, not a single thing about her had changed.

Her hair, silver-streaked and woven into the neatest plait on earth, was hardly tucked away under the net she wore and the cool colour of it did nothing to distract away from the warmth her demeanor oozed, nor did the ice blue of her eyes. She was the picture of what living a true, kind life could lead to; one could only hope to age as well as her. Wrinkles dotted her face, though they weren���t from age alone, they were from decades of time well spent, laughing and smiling with people she truly valued, people like you. People whose lives she made a hell of a lot better by being who she was. 

There was something about her that, upon first meeting, made you feel at ease, like you had at least one person who understood you in an environment where most didn’t. And years later, you still felt that way and more in her company. Even just her presence gave you a spark of hope, which would sound strange to some, but she was the type of person that restored one’s faith in humanity. The talented chef had stories for centuries, and somehow each had a different life lesson that left every listener dwelling on it in awe the rest of the night. She’d lived through some hardships, many more difficult than most could grasp, yet there was no bitterness in her. 

Only when someone dared to mention retirement to her. 

“You will never understand how happy I am that you are here.” After she let you go from her embrace, her weathered hands cupped your cheeks with a delicateness only someone like her possessed. They trembled the tiniest bit as her thumbs ran along your cheekbones, gazing up at you in wonder, as if you joining the national team again was like the second coming of Christ.

“Took me some time but nevermind.” You smiled shyly, only for her to tut at you with a stern eyebrow raise and a shake of her head. 

“None of that. I have something for you.” Before you could stop her, tell her there was no need, she was rounding the counter and ducking down to grab something from the hot cupboard. She stood up straight, in her arms a silver food platter. And when she took the lid off to reveal a steaming hot meal, there was only one thing it could be. “Your favourite!”

It wasn’t on the menu, not at all, yet she went out of her way to make it anyway. No matter how small a gesture it may seem to others, it meant the world to you. Heidi didn’t have to do that, she didn’t have to treat you like her own blood, but it was just in her nature to be that kind of person. It turned your whole day around. 

“Heidi!” You exclaimed, looking at the dish with an ecstatic expression. Single-handedly, she had just solved your food concerns for that evening, because the offer of a safe food cooked by the best that made it was simply no match for whatever tricks your anxiety tried to pull on you. “I can’t believe you! Thank you!”

“I also will make your favourite breakfast tomorrow too, the best vafler in the land.” The wise lady grinned coyly with a wink. “Think of it as a welcome back, to get you settled in, okay? I’m proud of you for coming back, now go sit yourself down before you miss the briefing. Come find me afterwards for a catchup.” 

Speechless. You were utterly speechless at her kindness. Every time you saw her again, she seemed to one-up herself without fail. 

Internally, Ingrid marvelled at the smile on your face as you sat back down with your food and took a photo of it to show it off to Alexia, before immediately digging into it. It was like night and day, what that one act of kindness had done, because suddenly you weren’t stuck in your head overthinking everything, and instead were just happy to be there. You hardly even flinched at the small message Gemma gave in her briefing at your return, you simply smiled and forgot about it when she moved on to the next topic. 

Some things were so simple and easy and small, yet somehow always made the biggest differences. If more people understood that, how far a little kindness could go, God only knows what the world could look like not just for people like yourself but for everyone. For now, however, you were happy to settle for some incredible kjøttkaker med potetmos and the warm, bubbly feeling in your chest at the fact you were surrounded in your life by people that adored you so wholeheartedly, they’d even get excited at a fairly bland meal whilst they were hundreds of miles away in a completely different country. 

Alexia decided to refrain from telling you about the teasing she got as a result of checking her phone every minute in the hopes of a text from you, and the gigantic smile with a pink tinge to her cheeks she adorned whenever she did get a message. That was information you would never let her live down.

—

With little fanfare and fuss, the first training session the next day was… fine. It was good. It was different from Barcelona and Frankfurt, every team’s training was wildly different, but you found your groove fairly quick. Some of your teammates and staff even went so far to say it was like you never left, you adjusted that well. Which felt like the highest compliment you could receive, and it was, considering the way it never left your mind for the rest of the day.

What came with your list of amendments and accommodation was the freedom you had to choose how your days went, aside from the football related activities. So once training finished and the cool down in the gym, where you were left alone from anyone you knew previously with a bunch of the players you’d newly met, went off without a hitch and the tactics discussion for the upcoming game came and went, you had the rest of the day to do whatever you wanted. 

Initially, you floundered at the overwhelming prospect of plans thrown around by the people you and Ingrid hung around with, as well as others piling in their suggestions, so heading back to your room for a little while seemed like your best bet for the time being. 

In your mind, as you sat on the edge of your bed, every idea someone had was an opportunity to try and fit in socially with the team. Slotting in well on the football side was good, best case scenario really and all you could ask for, but feeling like you belonged as a person and not just a player would be the cherry on the cake. So you thought through each suggestion, approaching them like they were tactical styles for a game and trying to guess which one would end in the best result for you, your hands tapping endlessly on your knees as you stared out the window in front of you. 

Going out with Celin, Teri, and Karina could be fun, but they were a loud bunch. You were notoriously shy around people you didn’t know, you didn’t want to bring the mood down by being with them. So you could tag along with Caro and Guro and Sophie and a few others, though again apart from Caro you didn’t know them all that well. With people you don’t know, you can’t prepare for hanging with them, which opens up a world of awkwardness. There was Maren who wanted to catch up with you, Frida wondered if you and Ingrid wanted to go to a cafe she liked in the area, there were so many possibilities yet you had no idea where to start. It felt like you had too much to do with too little time, even though it was only the first full day.

Ingrid kept an eye on you from afar, ensuring you didn’t work yourself up too much, until that exact thing happened and you stood abruptly with a groan.

“What’s bothering you?” She prodded gently, dropping her phone to the bed and fixing you with a reassuring look.

“I don’t know what to do the rest of the day.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as Ingrid smiled. She stayed silent, giving you space to think. A moment later, you collected your thoughts and tried your best to construct them. “I just don't know. There's so many choices, I didn't know what was on the agenda for today so I couldn't really think in advance. I also don't want to drag you away from whatever you want to do, so that ma-”

“You know by now that I don't care about that. And if I ever did, if there was something that I was unbelievably desperate to do, I would tell you. But there isn't. I love spending time with you, that'll never change, you're my best friend. So, talk it through with me. Do your thinking out loud, it'll help rather than keeping it all stuck in there and overwhelming you.” Her interruption was stern but with good intentions, a minor warning that ticked all the right boxes.

“Okay.” You nodded, took a deep breath, and sat on the end of her bed, facing her with your legs crossed. “I want to get to know everyone if I can. I want to fit in as a person, not just a player. But I don’t know where, or who, to start with. Everyone is so welcoming and I didn’t really expect that, and now I don’t want to disappoint anyone by not seeing them today.”

“We have two weeks here, remember? We don’t have to do everything possible in Oslo today. Take it easy for today, do what feels right, what you want to do and not what you think everyone else wants you to.” 

You considered it for a moment. Then decided that actually made a lot of sense.

“Getting coffee with Frida sounds good.” You stated sheepishly. You’d made a big thing out of nothing, once again. Though, you didn’t spend too long dwelling on that because to the people that mattered, they couldn’t care less about it. In a good way, that is.

“It does. So that’s what we’ll do.”

And that’s what you did. 

An hour after your momentary blip, you were out walking the chilly but sunny streets of the capital. You hadn’t been there in a long time, so spending your first day refamiliarising yourself with the city with Frida and Ingrid was a good way to ease into the next fortnight. The young blonde midfielder was great company, and honestly you were glad to finally have the opportunity to get to know her more. Ingrid had sung her praises plenty of times, so to be with her now as well as the dark-haired defender as a buffer was perfect. 

The whole afternoon was perfect. The three of you spent hours, dipping in and out of different trinket shops and cafes, whilst conversation flowed easily throughout. Most importantly, you didn’t feel the need to mask much, and that was always the best sign of a budding friendship for you. So when you trudged back to your room, bidding Frida a goodbye as you went your separate ways with Ingrid, you felt you’d had a pretty successful first day. Really, it couldn’t have gone any better if you tried. 

There was just one niggle in the back of your mind as you slipped your shoes off and slumped down onto your bed; it was only the first day, and already you missed Alexia a million times more than you thought. You would have done anything to be able to have her waiting for you in the hotel room, ready to welcome you back with open arms and endless reminders of how proud she was. But no, she was in a different country, doing her own thing with her own team on her own schedule, and there was no getting around that. You took a glance at your phone to see it void of notifications from her, just to top it all off. 

As a result, despite the day you’d had, you were left feeling pretty flat. 

Unfortunately, when you got stuck spiralling, your mind was your own worst enemy. You took your longing for her as a sign that you possibly relied on her too much. Without giving it much thought, you decided that had to change. She didn’t need you nagging her, constantly talking about yourself and how your day went when she had to pull her team and its dividedness together. Distancing yourself from her was for the better, for her sake, or so you thought.

Not much could get past Alexia, however.

“Hi!” The Spaniard said down the phone the second you picked up a couple hours later, after dinner when you were just about to get into bed. Then she cleared her throat, trying to quell her unbridled excitement. “Hola, engel. How was your day?”

“It was good. Nothing… nothing much.” The first red flag of the phone call.

“Oh, really? Your first day training with Norway again was nothing?” She teased lightly, not quite catching the gist of your plan. 

“Yeah, it was.”

There was an awkward silence as Alexia frowned in confusion where she waited in the elevator for it to reach her floor. She'd ran from the dinner hall the moment she could get away, just to talk to you. She was expecting an upbeat version of you, not the one she got.

“Are you okay?” She murmured. All she got in response was a half-assed hum.

Ingrid, who was gathering her things from her suitcase to have a shower, couldn't help but eavesdrop. She knew exactly what you were doing, hell, she'd been on the receiving end of it a number of times in the early days of knowing you. 

Other people's opinions terrified you, and one sub-topic of that was how scared you were of people thinking you were incapable of doing anything on your own. Incapable of being your own person, of not depending on anyone, of needing your hand held through every little life event. And as someone that hadn't ever been in such a serious relationship before, and had also been called childish and other insults a million times for apparently ‘lacking’ independence, the line between missing someone and being too clingy was blurred for you. Consequently, you did what you did best: avoiding situations that made your chest ache and your mind spiral.

Except that was hard to do when you were doing it in front of two people that knew you best.

“Are you sure you're o-”

“Yes, I'm sure, Alexia.”

Alexia thought she might have been sick, it was so far from how she pictured the day ending. When she called you, she swore she could almost hear you relaying your day with a shy excitement to your voice before you'd even picked up the phone. As it turned out, things couldn't have been further from the truth.

On the other hand, the outsider in all this rolled her eyes. When emotions weren't tied into a situation, it was actually pretty easy to see the real picture.

With absolutely zero hesitation, Ingrid dropped her things on her bed and marched over to you. She could vaguely hear Alexia fumbling a response that you weren't paying a single bit of mind to, but before the midfielder could finish, the phone was snatched from your hands and put on speaker.

“Ingrid! What the hell are you do-”

“Alexia, please don't be discouraged by her. She's panicking because she misses you. And she's worrying because she's never had anyone to miss before, she doesn't want you to think of her as clingy or anything. When we both know she's not clingy, she's in love. So, be her girlfriend, tell her you love her, and get her to tell you how successful her day was. Thank you.”

Just like that, she handed the phone back to you and headed into the bathroom, the lock clicking behind her.

For a few seconds, the line was silent between you and your girlfriend. You were frozen in place where you lay, whilst Alexia had her hand on the handle of her hotel room, a small, amused smile beginning to make its way onto her face at the strange turn of events. Although it upset her to hear what you were really thinking, it was fixable, with only a few words of reassurance. And it just so happened to be that expressing how much she adored you was one of her favourite things to do.

“Is that true?” She asked, finally stepping into her room and leaning back against the door as it shut. There was another pause, until you scoffed lightly, and Alexia broke out into a grin.

“...Maybe.” 

Some soft laughter down the phone had you groaning and slapping a hand over your face, whilst the culprit of your embarrassment slumped down on her bed and kept the grin on her face.

“Why would you think that, engel? I told you before you left that I want to hear from you, always, whenever you want. I have my phone notifications at full volume so I don't miss any of your calls or texts.” The blonde recalled the teasing she'd received the night before after Laia called her out for her attachment to her phone, the same teasing she was adamant she wouldn't tell you about. Well, she'd do just about anything to make you feel better. “Everybody keeps teasing me for being on my phone so much, apparently I don't leave it alone.”

“Apparently?” You joked, a small smile growing at the chuckle she replied with.

“Sí. How do you know I'm not checking the weather all the time? You know I hate the rain.”

“No, you just miss me too much.” You weren't wrong there.

“I do, and it's normal for you to miss me too much too. There is no such thing as too much, amor. You're not clingy. I want you to tell me everything, I wish I could talk to you all day every day, I wish I could be there in the cold with you. So please, tell me everything. Even all the boring things. Nothing is boring or too much with you, because it is you. Do you understand?” She spoke earnestly, not an ounce of judgement or mockery in her tone. She spoke with every intention of getting you to believe her, and you fell for it everytime, it was impossible not to.

“I have never missed anyone as much as I miss you right now.” 

It was an admission you weren't expecting to voice but one you believed with every fibre of your being. It came out quietly and shyly, because you were sharing a certain truth that scared you. Alexia didn't scare you, that couldn't be further from reality. But sometimes when you thought about it, when you thought about how she was the first person in the world you showed every single part of yourself to, it terrified you of what she could do with all that. You hadn't done that before, ever. 

Then she walked into your life, strolling over to you on your first day at Barcelona with an ease to her that gave you butterflies, and all of a sudden half your life was merged with someone else's. You'd spent years building up a wall between your heart and the rest of the world, something you didn't have much of a choice in if you wanted to protect your sanity and will to live. Someone was on the other side of that wall now, had your heart in the palm of their hands, and whilst that was the scariest thing you'd ever done, more than rejoining the national team, when you stepped back and remembered who it was, there wasn't a thing about it you would change. 

The back and forth of fear and serenity was tiring, but it was happening less and less. This time, however, you knew it wouldn't happen again when-

“I feel the same way.” She stated definitively, leaving zero room for you to disbelieve her. “I would do anything to be there to watch you play in a Norway jersey with my own eyes. If I wasn't one more thing away from being kicked off the national team then I'd be there for you, of course I would. I really would give anything to be there in person.”

“Really?” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Yes! Yes I would. Without a doubt. I know it scares you that you feel like this, it scares me too. But nothing truly good ever comes without it being at least a little terrifying. Like now, you’re in Norway, playing for your country. It was the scariest thing you’d ever done but you’re there now and in only a couple days you’ll be out on the pitch, doing what you’ve wanted to do for the last few years. It’s always worth it in the end, no?” The last sentence was said with a knowing, soft intonation behind it. 

To hear she felt the same was surprising. She was Alexia Putellas, someone that never appeared to show a bit of weakness or fear in anything she did. There was you, who could barely stomach the thought of going to a farmer’s market on a busy day. None of that mattered when you were on the phone with that very ‘fearless’ woman, who was openly admitting that the things she felt scared her, though she knew it was worth it. That you were worth it. 

“I had no idea you felt the same way.” Again, she let out a little laugh, a sound that made your heart skip a beat even if that was an incredibly cliche thing to say. You were quickly learning that love actually was quite cliche, and you weren’t the slightest bit mad at it. As someone that never had anyone to experience the cliches with, you wanted to experience all of them, no matter how sickly sweet.

“This is why we talk about things, engel. It’s just me. You know I will never judge you for anything you say to me.” 

“I know that.” You told her. Then you went quiet for a few moments, because something that you’d realised a couple months back suddenly made itself known, and in a second it felt like it became a life or death matter to tell the very person it concerned. “Ale, you’re my safe person.”

The woman in question didn’t know what that meant. It still made her blush nevertheless, and she lay in bed with a redness to her cheeks and a coy smile on her face like a lovesick teenager. 

“What does that mean?” 

It was your turn to blush as you turned to momentarily hide your face in your pillow even though she couldn’t see you. You weren’t embarrassed as such to tell her such a thing, but in your world it was a pretty big title to give someone. Hell, it was the biggest.

Like you had your safe foods, safe routine, safe places, Alexia was the encyclopedia for all that, as well as your best friend and someone you didn’t need to mask around and someone you were madly in love with. If telling her that didn’t scare her off, you might just have to start believing that she did in fact want to spend the rest of her life with you. 

However… that didn’t seem like such a shocking thing to you anymore. Maybe in her books, it was a year too late to start thinking that for yourself. But it was new for you, unheard of actually. It brought you immeasurable amounts of comfort, contentment, and pride. It was one of the first notable steps of progress you could recognise within yourself that you felt deserving of, and that was sure to give way to a world of possibilities for your confidence. 

She definitely was your safe person, there was no denying that, and you didn’t want to deny it. You didn’t want your insecurities in the way anymore. Ale loved you and that feeling was unrivalled; you couldn’t wait for a lifetime of it.

“It means… I love you. More than anyone or anything. It means that being with you is the greatest comfort of my life and nothing could compare to it.” You started, and Alexia swore she could feel herself growing emotional. “You make the world seem quieter and feel safer. You make me feel like I can do anything because I have you, whether that’s when you’re beside me or just on the phone. I’m more myself around you than any other person on the planet and I’ve never experienced that before. Even better, you love me like that. You love me. The true me. Not the masked version where everything people normally don’t like about me is hidden. You love me even when I don’t love myself and that makes me feel safe. Because in that I feel valued, adored, all those kinds of things and the security that gives me is something I've never had before. Now, I… don't know what I would do without it. I certainly wouldn't be here right now.”

Coincidentally, to Alexia, it was also the biggest compliment she could ever receive. All that you said, was all she could ever dream of hearing and achieving. There was a rush of emotions she felt as a result of your short ramble, too fast for her to identify anything so soon, but there were two outliers that she’d be able to recognise no matter what; love, and pride. God, she felt so much pride towards you and towards herself, because you had gotten yourself where you were then, and because she was the exact person she wanted to be in her relationship. The worries and doubts she had at the start with you couldn’t be further away, there was no world they could exist in when you were saying such unimaginable things to her. Fortunately, she didn’t have to imagine them, they were the truth. They were the reality of the dynamic of your relationship. 

Neither of you could ever ask for anything more – from each other, from the world, from your lives. Everything you needed was within each other.

“I will always try to be that person for you, engel. There is nobody else I would rather be.”

That was a pretty big statement in itself. 

She didn’t care for being a footballer, for being Alexia Putellas. All she cared for was being your girlfriend, your safe person, the best version of those two she could be. The rest were just bonuses to her now. The gravity of what she just said wasn’t lost on you, it was perhaps the greatest verbal demonstration of her love she had ever given. You were pretty sure your life peaked in that moment.

“So, stop making me cry and tell me how your day went.” Alexia said, and you heard her sniffle quietly afterwards. You laughed, and she laughed too, both nearly delirious with the affection you had for each other. “I only have so long before Irene comes back and she is not seeing me like this. Hurry. I want to hear it all.” 

At her request, you spent the next half hour relaying the events of your day, whilst Alexia lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling, a hopeless and proud smile on her face and a hand over her heart, trying to calm the fluttery feeling in her chest that only increased with every bit of good news you revealed. She would simply never be able to vocalise how proud she was, the short five letter word simply wasn’t enough for her.

But with a miserable amount of reluctance, there came a time where you had to hang up for the night. And as silly as it may seem, going from talking to her, albeit on the phone, and having the comfort of her again, only to hang up and have nothing but an empty bed was a downer. Thankfully though, you did still have the woman that led you to have that conversation with you.

After you dropped your phone to the bed with a grumpy sigh, you looked to your left where Ingrid was on her bed, earphones in on her laptop. It seemed you were filled to the brim with adoration that night, because you got up and went to join her. You slumped down beside the dark-haired woman and rested your head on her shoulder, though opted out of speaking. This, Ingrid knew, was a silent way of saying thank you for her intervention earlier. She smiled slyly, leaning her head down on top of yours.

“I did it for you, you know. Not to be against you or aggravate you. There was no way I was letting you sit there and prevent yourself from letting her be there for you just because you were too worried and caught up in your own head. She loves you, she wants to be there for you. You love her, so allow her to be there for you, alright?” You smiled and nodded, though it quickly turned into a fairly dramatic frown at the mention of the woman you’d just had to say goodbye to.

“I miss her.”

In another country’s capital, a certain Spaniard was in the exact same position. She hadn’t moved from where she was when she was on the phone to you, and the smile on her face hadn’t shifted either. Just her luck that Irene walked into the sight, and Alexia had no choice but to sit up, slide one of her hotel slippers off her foot, and lightly launch it at the defender, who laughed at her for the dramatic Romeo and Juliet-esque scene she stepped into. 

When Alexia went to sleep that night, her cheeks aching from the sheer amount of time she spent smiling, it was to the sounds of her brainstorming of all the ways she could show off her pride when she had you back in Barcelona. 

But before then, you had a game to think about.

—

Part Two

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Santa Baby

pairing: pedro pascal x f! popstar girlfriend

The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, Pedro Pascal, seated in the front row.

Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Pedro leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his warm brown eyes never leaving her.

Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.

Pedro chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.

Her sultry voice filled the air:

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…

The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Pedro’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Pedro, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…

Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Pedro froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.

The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:

…and I don’t mean on the phone!

The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Pedro a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.

By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Pedro’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:

“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”

“Pedro Pascal and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”

The next morning, Pedro sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.

“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.

“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Pedro.”

“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Pascal.”

That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.

Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Pedro was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.

“Come on in, future Mrs. Pascal,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.

Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Pedro’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.

“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”

She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Pedro’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Pascal,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.

Pedro chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”

“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”

“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.

“Pedro,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.

“Pedro,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.

“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”

She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, future husband.

Pedro’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.

[zaczenemiji]

Hi there! It's me...again. Hope your doing okay.

I was thinking about a new request about Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader based on the song "Please, Please, Please" from Sabrina Carpenter. Reader is a singer just like her so and has a relationship with Ken but she thinks that some things aren't doing good, but she also has him wrapped around her finger. Like the part with "I beg you, don't embarrass me, mother******". It can be angst but also fluffy and spice (Only if you want to but no smut) It can end in a happy ending.

The rest is up to you because I know you'll do a great job. No need to rush so take your time.

Don’t Prove ‘Em Right

Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader

Word Count: 1,358

Genre/Warnings: Angst (light), Character Development, Drama, Emotional, Redemption

Author’s Note: I went with a bit of angst 🤧

MASTERLIST

“You could do better.”

This was one thing you’ve always heard since you started dating men as a singer. Throughout your career, you were either cheated on, abandoned, or used in a way that they just rode your fame.

Other times, fans would ship you with another singer or celebrity or whoever famous and you’d give it a try for them but the ending is the always same: you two were just pretending for public entertainment and there was never love at all.

Your perception of love blurred the longer you got in the singing industry. You sang about it, wrote songs about it, but you’ve never really experienced it for a significant amount of time or for a significant depth.

That was until you met Kenji.

Despite his fame, he seemed down-to-earth and genuinely interested in getting to know you. He took you to his baseball games and introduced you to his teammates. In return, you invited him to your recording sessions.

Kenji was always supportive, and always encouraging. He seemed genuinely proud of your achievements and was always there for you. Despite his busy schedule, he shows up at your gigs and concerts and cheers you on from the front row.

He had a way of making you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was easy to overlook the occasional outbursts, the moments of impulsiveness that seemed to come with his fiery temperament.

You told yourself that everyone had flaws, and Kenji's good qualities far outweighed his bad ones.

You believed in him and in the future you could build together. Despite the red lights and the stop signs, you held on to the belief that this time, this love was right.

But as time went on, the cracks in Kenji's facade began to show. His temper flared more frequently, and his impulsive decisions started to take a toll on your relationship.

You made excuses for him and justified his actions to your friends and family. You told them he’s different.

But they told you that with the way he’s behaving, you’ll just end up in the dumps again—that he’s going to cheat on you, hurt you, leave you, and the ending will be the same…

“You could do better.”

Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another. You couldn’t afford your name dominating the headlines again. And for what reason? Another breakup.

You loved him deeply, but the constant cycle of highs and lows was exhausting. You wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the man you fell in love with.

But the more you tried to fix things, the more you realized that some things were beyond your control.

You sat in front of your vanity doing your makeup nicely. You glanced at the clock. Kenji would be here any minute to pick you up now. Tonight is your big night. It’s an afterparty to celebrate the release of your new single.

Your boyfriend had a reputation for causing a scene. It wasn't entirely his fault—he was passionate but it sometimes translated into impulsiveness. Tonight, of all nights, you needed him to be on his best behavior.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kenji stood there, looking dashing in a tailored suit, a grin spreading across his face as he saw you.

"Wow, you look stunning," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

"Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile. "You sure you wanna come?"

"Of course," he replied with a confidence that both reassured and worried you. “I’m always here for you.”

You arrived at the venue in no time. Celebrities, reporters, and fans filled the room, all eager to celebrate your success. You and Kenji mingled with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting congratulations.

But as the night went on, Kenji's behavior started to shift. The drinks were flowing, and while you had stuck to soda water, Kenji had not.

You watched with growing anxiety as he laughed a little too loudly, and gestured a little too wildly. The conversations around you started to feel like a backdrop to a ticking time bomb.

You pulled him aside. "Kenji, please," you whispered urgently. "Just... take it easy, okay?"

He frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his features. "What? I'm just having a good time."

"I know," you said, forcing another smile. “Just... for me, okay?"

He sighed but nodded and for a while, it seemed like he was keeping his promise. He stuck by your side, an arm around your waist, engaging in polite conversation with your friends and family.

However, you left him one moment and then the next, he was talking to one of the reporters. The latter walked away, a smirk on his face. Kenji turned to you, his face flushed with anger.

"Can you believe that guy?" he spat. "He had the nerve to ask about the last game. Said I sucked."

"Kenji," you said softly, trying to calm him down. You placed your hand on his chest. "It's not worth it."

"But—"

"Please, Kenji. Just... let it go."

He looked at you, the anger in his eyes slowly fading. He took a deep breath and nodded. "For you," he said quietly.

But the reprieve was short-lived. You caught sight of him at the bar, raising his voice at someone who had apparently made a snide comment.

The situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, Kenji had thrown a punch, causing a commotion that drew everyone's attention.

Your heart sank as security rushed in to break up the fight. You could feel all eyes on you, whispers spreading through the crowd.

You felt a sense of dejà vu as this wasn't the first time Kenji let his emotions get the best of him, and you were able to hold it together as you’ve always done, but then you heard the one thing you hated.

“She could’ve done better.”

Without a word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the venue, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

Not long after, Kenji arrived at your house, disheveled and remorseful. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he began, reaching out to you. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

You stepped back, keeping a distance between you. "Kenji, this can't keep happening. You promised me you would behave tonight!” You said in between sobs. “This was supposed to be my night, and you turned it into a disaster.”

You sat on your couch, your legs feeling too tired to keep you up. "I can't keep making excuses for you,” you continued. “I can't keep sacrificing my career for your mistakes."

Kenji fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He’s scared. He knew what those words meant. At that moment, he felt like the sky was crashing on him.

"I don't want to lose you, (y/n)," he said quietly, tears falling down. "I love you, and I know I've been screwing up. But I'm willing to do everything to make things right. Therapy, anger management, whatever it takes."

You stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and doubt. "Kenji, this isn't just about tonight,” you said. “This has been happening for a while now.“

“Please, (y/n),” he begged, his voice trembling as he knelt in front of you, embracing your legs as he rested his head on your lap. “I want to be the man you deserve. Please, give me one more chance."

Over the next few weeks, Kenji followed through on his promise. He made genuine efforts to address his issues.

He went out of his way to apologize to your friends and family for his behavior at the party, taking full responsibility for his actions.

Slowly but surely, he’s coming back to being the man you fell in love with. He made sure you wouldn’t be the one doing better because he was becoming better himself.

One afternoon, you had lunch with your friends. They asked about how things are now going between you and Kenji. You gave them a smile, a genuine one since after the party.

“He became better.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle

[axolotsofluv]

❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨❞

a continuation of my first work, this one being taken from your pov. Thank you for the likes and reblogs on the first one. It warms my heart to see it was received well. As usual, please forgive any writing errors here. Enjoy! (*n´ω`n*)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

❥ pairing: veritas ratio x reader

❥ tags: humor, romance, fluff, domesticity, ratio x reader

❥ song inspo: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by james taylor

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

➷‌ You waking up in the middle of the night to check on Ratio and finding him asleep leaning against the headboard. While exercising utmost care, you remove his glasses along with the book on his lap and place them by the nightstand. You snuggle back into the sheets but not before pressing a brief kiss on his temple‌

➷‌ Asking him to teach you how to clean his plaster heads, only for him to come home one day to find them all polished and practically glinting from the light‌

➷‌ Wordlessly and discreetly taking the side near the road when you're walking together, this action garnering a dry chuckle from him and a low, husky "how chivalrous"

➷‌ Opening a snack and offering it to him without taking a bite first. Doesn't matter if the snack is something you eat on a daily basis or one you've secured after hours of endlessly searching from store to store, this man has a set of special privileges as your partner, and one of them includes being able to get the first bite

➷‌ Writing down a short note on an origami and folding it into a paper crane before leaving them in random spaces in his study room for him to find‌. Once, he discovered one inside his drawer and the note simply wrote: hi handsome mwah mwah :) He rolls his eyes at the immature message, but he keeps it in his pocket anyways

➷‌ Waking up after a fulfilling sleep and seeing Ratio getting dressed for the day, wearing that familiar assemble of clothing that is elegant, regal, and daring altogether. Disregarding the vestiges of weariness clinging to your bones, you scramble out of bed to help him garb each piece of attire. The flowing white sash draped over his shoulder, the gold owl mask hanging on his shoulder blade, the blue robes he sports over the tight black attire that shows just enough skin for you to question whether it was appropriate for work—your hands arrange every accessory and fabric to emulate a semblance of propriety that reflects the nature of his calibre. Moments like these are the highlight of your day. You get to enjoy the sunlight pouring in through the gaps of the blinds and spend the morning in a quiet, intimate manner before eventually parting for work

➷‌ You consider yourself to be on the frugal side, but when it comes to Ratio, that financial principle crumbles like cookies. The rows of jewelry lined up near the bakery you frequent that never once pique your interest all of a sudden becomes ten times more tempting the moment an important event comes up. As much as you justify that it's for your partner and that it's something celebrated annually, a part of you still wilts at the notion of giving up on purchasing the item you've been wanting to buy for a long time in favor of gifting Ratio something nice. You present it to him the moment he returns home from work, and he freezes up. His stoic veneer tenses and falters before ultimately assuming that tempered gaze of gratitude you've grown accustomed to. And just like that, you're left with zero grievances

➷‌ You temporarily forgetting your lack of athleticism as you run towards a department store teeming with discounts, the first section you visit being the men's as you browse for anything on sale that fits Ratio's preferred style of fashion

➷‌ Whenever he has the time to pick you up from work, you would stop by a full length mirror to fix your appearance, patting down awry strands of hair, brushing away imaginary dust, and erasing any signs of creases on your outfit, wanting to look good for him‌ before finally greeting your lover outside the building

➷‌ Gushing over his muscles and comparing them to the marble sculptures you often see in art museums. You wrap his arm around your shoulders to emphasize just how safe and comfortable they make you feel, but a single thought goes unspoken: Something about him—his beauty, his presence—just can't be captured fully by even sculptors of great renown and immaculate prowess. A sculpture won't be able to do justice to his mere being and splendor. Luckily for you, the real deal is here with you now

➷‌ You make it a habit to compliment him on his research/workout progress because you know that when he thinks you aren't looking, he lets his lips quirk up just a bit‌ at the comment. Even geniuses like him aren't immune to heartfelt praises tailored to point out traits that they're most proud of

➷‌ You can be flippant at times, cracking (terrible) jokes during a serious moment. But if you ever see Ratio solemnly shaking his head at your attempt at alleviating tension with humor, you will shut your mouth, no questions asked. The jokes take a back seat, and you settle beside him, mirroring his pensive expression and allowing the quietness to spread. The last thing you want is for Ratio to think you derive joy from his troubles

➷‌ You've known him well enough to know that he doesn't mean anything malicious when he calls you a dunce. But when you do something that causes him deep distress, he'll ramble about how short-sighted your judgments are, how idiotic it is for you to assume that it's okay to make him fret this much. Perhaps under normal circumstances, you would've retaliated, but Ratio just appears so thrown off, so disturbed, his composure incinerating before your eyes that all you can do is clasp his trembling hands and apologize for worrying him‌

➷‌ You tend to either clutch on his sleeves or hug his arm. It's your preferred way of staying close to him. In some occasions, your hand would weave through the crack between his side and his arm to slip into his coat pocket, withdrawing the moment you think the coast is clear. But then he rains on your parade by telling you to put his wallet back

➷‌ Stealing his cologne and spraying it all over your clothes when you're in a clingy mood. It gets worse when he's away on a business trip for months on end, so the bed (room) usually ends up smelling like him by the time he returns‌

➷‌ Slightly bumping your head against his as a gesture of affection whenever you get the chance. This gesture carries a nice balance of love and playfulness that you decide to keep doing it to him. It makes your heart flutter whenever he does it back. Sometimes, it feels like you're both goats gently headbutting each other, but you try not to dwell on that thought too much. The imagery might make things awkward

➷‌ Breaking off a chunk of food and immediately handing the biggest one to him‌. That mint colored popsicle that comes with a twin set of sticks? You haven't been able to break that thing in half equally so far, but you generally don't mind letting Ratio claim the one with the most portion. He says that it's unnecessary, but if him gently pinching your cheek is anything to go by, he isn't opposed to the special treatment at all

➷‌ You both make the time to reconvene after clocking off from work. You won't say much to each other as the day had worn you both to the bone, but even then, you still find the opportunity to extricate his bag from his hand and playfully nag him for overworking himself. It's a hypocritical move on your part, yes, but it's a tactic you often employ to make sure he won't pry his bag off your grip‌

➷‌ When you're out eating seafood and decide to indulge in some crustaceans. It's difficult enough extracting the soft meat from inside the tough layer of skin, even more to crack the shells to get it. So, once you've managed to scrounge up a decent amount of meat, you transfer it to Ratio's plate. He protests, of course, but you don't stop. "You shouldn't give everything to me. I didn't come here to enjoy the food by myself." He grumbles after promptly swallowing the piece you offered. You respond by giving him even more

➷‌ Being his #1 fan through and through. At some point, you and him came to an agreement that it would be best if you didn't attend his award ceremonies too often because you both know that the moment his name is announced, you'll bounce off your seat and give off a thunderous cry like a football fan whose team had just won. Disruptively supportive, as he likes to put it. And unabashedly so, because when people ask you if dating someone with an intelligence that surpasses yours by a staggering amount makes you feel inferior, you just give them an incredulous look. "He's done so much for the world of academia and the progress of humanity itself. How can I be anything but proud?"

➷‌ Entering the sanctity of his personal study room and plopping down on the floor beside the chair he's seated on, a plushie in your lap as you rest your head on his thigh. He stiffens at the contact, asks you what you're doing, before eventually resuming his task and leaving you be. You bear no intentions of distracting him from his task so you remain stationary where you are. The night wears on, and you soon fall fast asleep, only stirring when a hand lays on your head

➷‌ Showing constant interest in the process of his publications, posing queries about how the idea first came to be, why he chose that particular topic, and even asking for explanations about terms and phrases that are foreign to you. Because of this, it is now a common occurrence for Ratio to come marching towards you at random times with his tablet and reading his draft for his upcoming article. You don't understand half of what the content is about, but in this moment, your attention belongs solely to him

➷‌ There's a folder in your phone gallery dedicated to miscellaneous items relating to Ratio. The order of his books, the manuscript he composed last minute when a spark of inspiration struck him, the golden laurel headpiece he often adorned laying discarded on the bedroom floor, a screenshot of a digital invitation to a nationwide seminar as a guest speaker, the bathwater brand he favors most, and even some rare pictures of him that he took in front of mirrors as per your request. While you like to take the time to create different folders for certain categories of pictures, you personally don't mind a bit of clutter in your phone. But when it comes to him, everything has a semblance of order. If you scroll down enough, one might even see that you had some of his stuff sorted based on dates

➷‌ Ratio takes you out on a spontaneous date to your favorite restaurant and to the beach. You're puzzled, and that feeling only amplifies when he randomly tells you to catch the apple he tossed. You're left pondering over the possible implications that this whole thing entails, but until then, you aren't interested in using up brain energy. You do, however, reach into your bucket to sift through the loot you amassed from mindlessly frolicking around the beach. A shell emerges into Ratio's line of vision, a perfect blend of colors with a defined conch shape and boasting a surface devoid of cracks—undoubtedly the best looking one in your pile. He raises his brows curiously when you hold it out for him, and you simply smile. "My favorite shell for my favorite person."

➷‌ Waiting in line at an establishment during a particularly busy day, and you're both left to your own devices. Without much to do to endure what might be an hour long wait, you take out your earphones and tuck the left one in Ratio's ear. After relinquishing the piece with the best sound quality, you also hand over your phone to him, allowing him free reign over the music being played. You plop your head on his shoulder as your consciousness slowly drifts off to the blissful melody of your wedding song

[wandasgirl69]

Make a wish, Wanda —

Paring(s): Wanda X female!reader

Word count: 984

Summary: it’s Wanda’s birthday and you make her special day even more special

Tags | content: it’s all just fluff, established relationship, trip to Disney!!

A/N: I know it’s not Wanda’s birthday today but I just had to write this. Enjoy<3

You woke up early, the sky just barely beginning to glow with morning light, and you could already feel the soft heat of summer brushing across your skin. It settled into your bones slowly, like warmth blooming from the inside out. The sheets were tangled around your legs, one arm outstretched toward Wanda’s side of the bed. She was still there, curled into the pillow, her breath steady and soft.

Your heart thudded a little faster than usual. Full of quiet excitement, yes, but also this overwhelming need to get everything right.

Today was Wanda’s birthday.

You’d thought about this day for weeks. Rerun it in your head a hundred times, rewriting each little detail to make sure it felt like her, meaningful, not flashy, but full of love. She didn’t like big crowds or attention. She liked soft mornings and handwritten notes. She liked being known, not just celebrated.

And God, you wanted her to feel known today. Down to her bones.

You turned to face her in bed, her long lashes still resting softly on her cheeks, lips slightly parted, one arm tangled loosely around your waist. She looked so peaceful, you took a moment just soaking her in.

You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She stirred slightly.

Another kiss, this time on her cheek.

“Mmm,” she hummed, eyes still closed.

You grinned. “Wake up, birthday girl.”

Then you kissed the tip of her nose. Her jaw. Her eyelids. You trailed kisses all over her face, slow and sweet and a little relentless until finally

“Okay, okay, I’m awake!” she laughed, blinking up at you with that crinkly-eyed smile that always made you fall in love all over again. “Are you trying to smother me or seduce me?”

You grinned, cupping her face. “Both.”

She raised an eyebrow, playfully suspicious. “What’s going on?”

“I have one word for you,” you said, climbing out of bed and motioning for her to stay put. “Breakfast.”

Wanda sat up against the headboard, tousled yet completely gorgeous, and waited while you returned with a tray. Freshly made pancakes –with strawberries, of course– scrambled eggs, orange juice, and a tiny vase with a single red rose.

“You did all this?” she asked, delighted.

You set the tray on her lap and kissed her cheek. “Only the best for my girl.”

She took a bite and groaned in satisfaction. “Marry me.”

You laughed. “Eat your pancakes first.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but took another bite, clearly enjoying the attention.

When she was about halfway through breakfast, you shifted slightly, reached down beside the bed, and pulled out two folded pieces of paper, holding them up with a small smile.

“Tickets,” you announced, “to Disneyland. For today.”

Her eyes went wide. “No way.”

You nodded. “We’re gonna nerd out so hard. Star Wars rides, churros, matching Minnie ears, you name it.”

Wanda threw her arms around you, this time with more force, and kissed you. “This is already the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You whispered against her lips, “We haven’t even gotten to dinner yet.”

—

Disneyland was everything you'd hoped: warm sun, shared popcorn, your girlfriend’s wide-eyed wonder as you both rode Rise of the Resistance twice in a row. Wanda practically skipped around the park, hand-in-hand with you, taking selfies, pointing out characters, and getting chocolate on her nose from too many snacks. You wore matching star wars shirts (even though you hadn’t a clue what being a ‘jedi’ meant). By sunset, you were both exhausted in the best way, sun-drenched and smiling.

“Dinner next,” you said, glancing at your phone. “You ready?”

“I’m always ready when you’re in charge,” she teased.

—

The restaurant you chose was quiet and elegant, lit by soft golden light and tucked away from the city’s noise. You sat across from Wanda at a small round table near the window, the hue of the lights catching in her hair and casting a soft glow on her cheekbones. She looked stunning, undeniably so. Not in a loud, glamorous way, but in the kind of way that made your chest ache, her eyes shining across the table as you sipped wine and shared a plate of truffle ravioli.

But the best part hadn’t come yet.

When the waiter cleared your plates, you subtly nodded. The lights dimmed just slightly, and soft birthday music began to play as a small cake was brought out, topped with fresh strawberries and delicate swirls of whipped cream. A single candle flickered at the center, casting a warm glow across Wanda’s surprised smile.

Wanda covered her mouth, blinking rapidly. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

The candle on top flickered.

You leaned across the table, taking her hands in yours. “Make a wish, Wanda.”

She stared at you for a long second. Her eyes softened.

“I already have everything I want,” she whispered.

Your voice dropped too, just for her. “Wish anyway. I’ll do anything to make it come true.”

A long pause. She looked down, then back at you, as if trying to choose the right thing and whispered, “Okay.”

She closed her eyes, made her wish, and blew out the candle. You watched her the whole time, your heart so full it almost hurt.

“Can I ask what you wished for?” you said gently.

She smirked. “Then it won’t come true.”

“Fair,” you said, but you were already making your own vow in silence. Whatever it was, whatever she wanted, you were going to make it happen.

Because loving her was easy. Loving her was the one thing you’d always wish for, too. She reached across the table and laced her fingers with yours, her thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“Thank you for everything,” she said quietly, eyes soft.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then lifted it to your lips and kissed her knuckles.

“Happy birthday, my love” you murmured

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ BEFORE YOU GO 　　────　ᅠ ( sim jake )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀time is running out. jake leaves for brunei at sunrise, and you still haven’t told him the truth: you’re in love with him. with memories pressing in and emotions running high, you only have this as your one final chance to speak—or live with the silence forever.

　　　ᅠ 심재윤⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 1.8k ⠀ genre fluff angst childhood friends brother's best friend ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship injury ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ 　　　ᅠ BEST ENJOYED WITH .. clueless by regina song!

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ hi @yuons this is for you! i hope this wasnt too angsty for you jun... and hey! debut jake fic >:) i havent finished the jay and taesan one that i promised to post saur that will come soon hopefully. anyways, enjoy ~

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

YOU play with the edges of the bandaid, hanging for its life onto your finger. You bite the bottom of your lip, and you stop yourself from doing it again—the cycle repeats itself for quite some time. 

“You look like you’re about to vomit,” Jay’s voice rings in your ear, and it shatters your thoughts. You sharply eye him. He walks past you and into the kitchen, handing your mother the kimchi he’d cut up—originally, your mother had asked you to cut them for her, but after injuring your finger while mindlessly thinking about the future, she changed her mind. 

“I’m not,” you hiss at your brother, who in return just laughs. 

Jay ruffles your hair before walking back to the living room. “Whatever you say.”

You don’t say anything in reply. 

You feel the humidity clouding the kitchen, the steam rising from the pot of budae-jjigae that your mother is mixing. You turn to help your mother sprinkle in the green onions, unable to contain your emotions longer if you continue to watch your brother and his best friend laughing together in the living room. 

The smell of grilled meat and savoury broth fills the house, and the sound of laughter coming from the living room makes the atmosphere feel kind of comforting. 

It’s always been that way. 

You, Jake, and Jay—being with your older brother and his best friend always had been what you pictured home to be. 

After finishing up the stew with your mother, you walk towards the living room to get Jay to help you set up the table.

“Jay–” 

Jake’s eyes meet yours. 

You freeze, and it hits you—tomorrow, the laughter that you dearly love wouldn’t be echoing in your house anymore. 

You remember the moment everything started: the night two summers ago, just you and Jake in the quiet of the night, stars sparkling over the soccer field. 

HE had found you sitting alone there, hugging your knees as the winds rustled past you. 

You were too busy crying to notice him slipping his hoodie, warm and worn, over your shoulders. You didn’t even notice when he got there, and how he settled himself so naturally and comfortably next to you. 

“You alright?” he asked. 

You sniffled, nodding. You couldn’t look at him, slightly embarrassed by the way you probably look ugly with the ruined makeup—instead, you let the cold winds sting the salty tears out of your eyes. 

“Thank you for coming, Jake.”

You heard Jake exhale heavily. 

The school auditorium lights had been blinding, but that wasn’t enough to hide the evident empty seats on the third row. The ones you’d reserved for your parents and Jay. A last-minute work thing. A fever. An “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You didn’t blame them, but it hurted. 

You smiled, of course. You were always good at that. 

But just before the curtain rose, someone slid into the aisle seat at the very end, slightly out of breath, hoodie halfway off his shoulder.

Jake.

He gave you a thumbs-up and an exaggerated wink as the spotlight found you.

You widen your eyes, and forget your next line for half a second.

And now, it’s later, and you found yourself away from the people celebrating backstage. You didn’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this—but you desperately hoped that your parents and Jay had come to watch your play. This was something you worked hard for, and it took a big leap of courage for you to be able to do this. You loved being in plays and acting, but being on stage wasn’t something you looked forward to. 

Jake smiled softly. “You absolutely killed it,” he said, smoothly putting a can of iced tea into your hands. “Especially the part where you dramatically died on that cardboard battlefield.”

You laughed, and you felt warm against the cold autumn night. 

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” you said after a while. 

“Yeah, I did,” Jake said, quieter now. “You said it was important to you.”

You turned to face him, ignoring the way your mascara ran down your cheeks. “Jake…”

You didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t know what to do about the obvious butterflies fluttering in your chest. 

And Jake didn’t say anything either, despite his usual chatter. He simply smiled. 

“Keep that hoodie, you’ll need it.”

“Y/N? You okay?” Jake asks, and it pulls you back into the present. 

Jay gets up from the couch. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You quickly shake your head. “Nothing! Um- just- Jay, mom called you.”

You let Jay walk past you, your eyes still glued to Jake. Realizing that Jake would probably notice you being weird, you immediately take a seat next to him. 

“Soooo,” you begin, hoping that the conversation flows naturally. “You nervous?”

Jake chuckles, leaning back. “Me? Nervous?” he flashes a grin to you, and you bite your lip in an attempt to contain your heart’s acceleration. “Not a chance!”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Fine,” he admits, “a little. Brunei’s far.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

And you’re leaving me behind. 

THE dinner goes well—you hope. Your family and Jake had always been close, and you’re sure your parents see him as one of their children by now. He sat next to Jay, and you couldn’t look at him—not without tears welling up in your eyes. 

You hate how he’s going away. 

Why can’t he just go to an army camp or whatever here? 

You miss him already. 

“Why do I always find you out in the cold by yourself?” 

“Jake?” you turn sharply upon hearing him chuckle. You’re sitting on the stairs in front of your front door, staring at the starry night sky. He closes the door behind him, and sits down next to you, his breath visible in the air. 

Jake slips the leather jacket he’s wearing on your shoulders. “At this point I think I’m going to have to give you my entire wardrobe, Y/N.”

You huff, hitting his chest, but it’s not as hard as you used to do. 

“I’ll miss you.”

It slips from your tongue so effortlessly, it’s like you’ve never held it in all these years. 

The look on Jake’s face is something you’ve never seen before. 

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.”

A heavy wave of disappointment washes over you. 

“Kiddo”? 

Does he hate you or what?

You narrow your eyes, a poor try at masking the tears in your eyes. “You see me as just a sister, don’t you?”

“What?” Jake breathes. 

The two of you sit there, knees touching as you stare at each other wide eyed, realising the weight of your words. 

“You’re so clueless,” you sigh, pressing your lips together. 

Jake grabs your shoulders before you can turn away. He makes you face him, his eyes swirling dangerously with some kind of emotion you’ve never seen in him. 

Suddenly, you find your voice, along with your courage, stuck in your throat. 

“I’m not,” he states, his voice shaky by the end. “Tell me. Tell me, Y/N.”

You laugh sheepishly, turning your head away. “What are you talking about, Jake? I–”

“Y/N.”

The desperation in his voice is now evident, and you find yourself eye to eye with him again. 

“I…”

“Tell me, Y/N. I know you’re hiding something, and I don’t know why I feel so curious that I want to know before I, well, leave.”

You stare at Jake, who’s right in front of you, his breath warm against your face. He’s still holding your shoulders, his grip tight like he really doesn’t want you to pull away. 

You’ve loved him since forever. You’ve watched him grow up with you and your brother, and slowly, you watched him be the person you want to spend forever with. 

You and Jake are like best friends, soulmates even. There were times where Jay would complain that you and Jake have better chemistry than him and his own best friend—and you can’t help but admit that. You know of all the things that happen between you and Jake—the lingering glances, the inside jokes, and the way you’re both open with each other. You weren’t afraid to tell him anything, but one. 

Your feelings for him. 

You’re comfortable, basking in his affection for you in the name of Jay’s little sister. But now, after receiving the news that you won’t be seeing for a long while, you’re growing uneasy. What if you never have the chance to say your heart’s content ever again?

“Jake,” you call out, breathless. 

“Yeah?” His voice is as quiet as yours.“What’s up?”

“I… I love you.” your voice cracks. “I just… needed you to know. Before you go.”

The world around you fades into the background. 

Jake’s frown softens, and it melts into something that you can’t read. He stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. His grip on your shoulder loosens, and his hands fall to his side. 

“Y/N…”

You don’t even realise the tears streaming down your cheeks until Jake leans forward, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You really know just how to perfectly mess up a guy’s goodbye, huh? Your brother’s best friend at that, too.”

You let out a laugh, despite your tears still raining down your face. “I didn’t want to regret, you know, not ever… getting it out there.”

Jake puts his hands to your side, caressing you softly with his thumbs. He looks up to the sky, then back at you again. “I don’t know what’s waiting for me over there. But if—when—I come back…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

Jake presses a kiss to your lips, warm and steady. It’s short, but it’s enough to catch you off guard. Enough to tell you what he feels. 

“Take care of your brother,” he says after pulling away, “and take very good care of yourself too.”

“I’ll try, I promise,” you nod briefly. 

“And… text me. Call me. Whatever,” Jake continues, his voice cracking. 

You smile, nodding and tears begin to mess your face up again. He pulls you into a hug, long and tight, and when he lets go, the warmth lingers for a while. 

Your tears don’t stop even when it’s time for him to leave. 

“See you later, Y/N,” Jake says, caressing the top of your hair. The two of you ignore the looks Jay is giving. 

You smile softly. 

Then Jake is gone. And you stand there, the light of the street light brushing over your face, heart beating out of rhythm now that he’s away—not quite broken, not quite whole, but alive.

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[champagnefountains]

Secret(s) — K. SATO

Prompt: Kenji finally decides to come clean with his feelings and (sort of) confesses to you...except, it doesn't go the way he planned.

Word Count: 2.9k+ words [Damn, I lowkey popped off on this one...] Pairing: Kenji Sato [Ultra-Man: Rising] x Fem! Reader Genre/s: A tiny bit of angst with fluff. Misunderstandings. Mutual pining. Warnings: Swearing. Maybe OOC Kenji (?), not sure tbh...also, I sort of change perspectives weirdly in this one but I tried to make it work the best I can ;-; Plus, I feel like the pacing's weird ;-;

KENJI SATO HAD TWO BIG SECRETS. Number one; he was none other than the Ultra-Man, begrudgingly taking over the momentous mantle after his father was injured. Unlike his booming baseball career, the whole 'superhero' thing was honestly a humbling experience, as Kenji realised the numerous beatings and immediate danger that comes with the spotlight. Though, after what was the unique experience of baby-sitting a kaiju and finally mending his relationship with his father, did Kenji come to terms with and welcome this responsibility. Gladly, Kenji finally found that much needed balance in his life that was necessary and soon, his life didn't seem as bad as it was before. It wasn't lonely anymore either, he thinks.

And number two; he has a massive crush on you. The both of you knew each other since you were little kids, growing up and going to school together like true best-friends did. Initially glued to the hip, you were then forced apart when he had to abruptly move to America with his mother. The transition was difficult to say the least, as little Kenji was thrown into what seemed like a whole new world. Other kids would talk constantly about the way he looked and acted behind his back—about how different he was, and whilst Kenji eventually grew out of it, he couldn't help but miss home. You, included.

When Kenji returned to Japan after many, many years, his feelings for you resurfaced when you surprised him during one of his baseball games. Amongst the crowd, you had been sitting by the front row when Kenji suddenly locked eyes with you as he entered the batting field. He had to do a double-take because God, the years treated you so damn well (And you were even wearing his jersey. His jersey). Whilst he wanted nothing more than to run to and scoop you into his arms, Kenji had a game to play. He had a strong urge to show you his best performance and damn it, did he deliver. He was the Ken Sato, after all. He never disappoints.

The both of you had your heartfelt reunion after the game as he held and spun you in his embrace, in all his sweaty glory (it was honestly a bit gross, but you let it slide this once for the sake of celebration). Excited, you both decided to catch up at Tonkotsu Tonki after he washed up. And to his relief, it was like you never changed. You were still the amazing, humble and kind you — and even though he thought you of beautiful then, you were practically glowing now.

Despite the piling stress he was enduring then — with having to juggle between being Ultra-Man, baby-sitting Emi and some career troubles — your presence alone was like a breath of fresh air. Whenever he was with you, whether it be on the phone or in person, he wasn't the famous celebrity, Ken Sato, or the beloved Japanese super-hero, Ultra-Man. He was just Kenji. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

So with that all being said, with months-full of excruciating pining, Kenji finally made the big decision to confess to you. Today. He invited you out to Tonkotsu Tonki for dinner one spontaneous night, booking a private space away from watchful eyes and any possible distractions.

"So, [Y/n]...I have something to tell you," he suddenly brings up after you finished your meals. His hands start to feel clammy as you avert your attention from your phone, staring up at him with curious eyes. Kenji was normally confident with most things, but vulnerability wasn't exactly his strong suit. He was usually flirtatious and a tease in nature, always flashing a dashing smile and blowing kisses towards the camera and his fans. But today was different. Heck, he couldn't even look at you right now without his head turning into complete mush.

On the other hand, the tone of his voice surprises you. It was noticeably a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation you had just minutes prior. It must've been important, you think to yourself. And it made you nervous. "Oh," you lamely say, blinking at him, "uh, sure. Shoot." You clasp your hands together to keep them from fiddling too much, your nerves tingling at your fingertips. The thing is, you had an inkling of an idea as to what he was going to say, which was something you've been itching to hear for the past month. '...Was he actually going to follow through?' You think in quiet anticipation.

"Right. So, um..." Kenji throws some gestures in the air in attempt to gauge the right words, "...well, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. It might be a bit...surprising–heavy, even. And I'm worried that it might change a lot of things between us–which I really hoped it wouldn't, but I guess it's inevitable."

He keeps an attentive gaze on you, studying how your features slowly became more tense. Funnily and strangely enough, he thought you looked a bit constipated and perhaps in another circumstance, he would've laughed at you. Though, he knew he wasn't doing any better himself �� the restaurant suddenly felt like a sauna and his heart was practically pounding out of his chest as if he were in a game.

Kenji unknowingly continues to babble on. "I-I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't want to scare you off. But now, since I've come back from America–and am planning on staying here for good– and-and we've been given a chance to reconnect these past couple months...I think it's a good time to finally come clean and tell you the truth—"

"I already know," you suddenly intervene, surprising Kenji and even yourself. You mentally reprimand yourself for abruptly inserting yourself in the midst of his dialogue, cursing your lack of patience.

"You...you already know?" He asks sheepishly, clearly taken aback, "what–what do you mean you already know? Like, was I being too obvious or something?" He couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escapes his lips. He felt like he was going to implode at any minute as the embarrassment rapidly crept up his neck, dusting his cheeks.

You wince a little. "W-Well, no. But I guess I already had my suspicions. I noticed that you've been acting kinda weird recently and I sort of just...y'know, connected the dots," you shrugged, looking apologetic. He honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

"Oh...right. I forget how perceptive you can be sometimes. It's kinda scary," he attempts to flash you a smirk but it comes off as an awkward smile instead, as he raises a hand to rub his nape. You notice this and try to offer some consolation, reaching out to grab his hand. The action alone causes butterflies to flutter erratically in Kenji's stomach and for a moment, he feels hopeful.

"Hey, for what it's worth I'm actually glad that you told me, Ken. It must've been hard keeping it to yourself," you say warmly. Kenji scoffs in response – that was an understatement. "Oh, God. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get this off of my chest," he huffs incredulously, unconsciously melting into your touch.

There was a brief second of pause and soon, Kenji couldn't help but feel as though there was something...off about this whole exchange, especially with how casual you were being at the moment. After all, Kenji literally just confessed (well, kind of) and you just sat there, smiling at him without giving him a definitive answer. Was...he forgetting something? Was he even doing this right?

"Y'know, you seem a bit...nonchalant about all this," he points out, "because if I'm being completely honest with you, I feel like I'm about to pass out." Brows furrowed, you straighten up in your seat. "Wait, Ken, I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't care or anything," you attempt to affirm with the wave of your hands, "i-it's just...slowly sinking in right now. Even though I told you I knew, hearing it from you straight is still overwhelming."

Overwhelming? At that, Kenji frowns. "Well...I did warn you, didn't I?" He says disheartened, letting out a deep sigh whilst running a hand through his hair. "Look, [Y/n]. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, nor do I want to pressure you for an answer right now. I just thought I'd tell you–"

"Woah, woah. Wait a minute. Pressure me?" You question with raised brows, now acutely confused, "pressure me into what?" Kenji rapidly blinks and tilts his head to one side, almost gaping at you, "Uhm, pressure you into reciprocating my feelings?" Crickets. Literal crickets. It was only after a few passing seconds that the both of you realise that you were talking about very, very different things.

"Y-You have feelings for me?" You gawk as you point to yourself, a bright blush now evident across your cheeks. Kenji wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. "I–Yes! Yes, I do–I thought I made that super clear?!" He panics, balling his fists, "what the hell were you talking about then?!"

Ah, shit. This was awkward, but there's no point in turning back now, you think to yourself, grimacing. You look around the both of you in caution and thankfully, the cook behind the counter was nowhere in sight, presumably having gone back of the kitchen. You leaned close towards Kenji. "I was talking about you being Ultra-Man!" You harshly whispered between your cupped hands, and it causes Kenji to bang his knee against the countertop, eliciting a loud thud.

You gasp. "Shit, Ken, are you okay—" "Fuck-What the actual fuck?!" He whisper-shouts, his eyes growing as wide as saucers as he aggressively rubs his knee. "how-how did you know about that?!" Maybe Kenji should've initially tried to deny the accusation, but his better judgement was severely trampled on, alongside his ego, by his failed attempt of a confession.

Now it was your turn to fumble. "W-Well, first of all, every time you would abruptly leave when we hang out, Ultra-Man would just appear out of nowhere and it would always be when there's a kaiju in the city! Like, come on, the timing was always coincidentally impeccable!" You explain, your arms messily flailing in the air, "And don't even get me started on the lame-ass excuses you make! What? You needed to water your plants? You couldn't even conjure a single sprout, let alone a pot plant even if you tried—"

"I–Okay, first of all, that is so not true–"

You raise a digit, causing him to halt mid-sentence, "And not only that, but maybe you should–I don't know, work on being more discreet with your identity because I literally saw you transform near a freaking construction site!"

Kenji's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Shit, you saw me? When did you–"

"Over a month ago, with that pink dragon-looking kaiju." You were referring to Emi. At that, Kenji squints his eyes at you, "You knew for a whole month and didn't tell me!?"

"Shh, lower your voice, Ken! Someone's gonna hear us!" You hush, "And I was planning on telling you at some point! Believe me, but I-I just didn't know how to bring it up! It's not exactly the smoothest conversation starter, y'know?" You look at him guiltily, your voice growing quiet, "I was kinda hoping that you'd tell me over time...when you were ready."

Kenji was now sporting a migraine, his mind trying to wrap around all the information you've just spewed at him. "You...you didn't tell anyone else about this, right?" He then asks anxiously. You were quick to shake your head, "No, of course not, and I wasn't planning to. I know how dangerous that information would be if it landed in the wrong hands—"

"And you do realise that you knowing all this would put you into danger, right?" Kenji says seriously. His own comment causes him to slump over at the counter, sighing heavily as he holds his head in his hands, "...it's why I never wanted you to know in the first place."

A small pang of hurt hits you as he admits this, but you decide to let it slide, knowing where Kenji was coming from. "Hey, come on, I'm stronger than I look, Ken. At least give me some credit over here," you attempt to liven up the mood, nudging him with your elbow. "Apart from kaiju, there are some really dangerous people out there, [Y/n]. You and I don't know what they're capable of," he mumbles into his arms, his gaze remaining on the table. Having you roped into his Ultra-Man business opened a lot of opportunities for danger to strike at any angle. Kenji wouldn't forgive himself if something were to happen to you, knowing that it could've been avoided in the first place. Heck, look what happened with the KDF.

Your eyes soften at his concern, pressing your lips into a thin line as you let out a small huff. "Look, we'll figure something out. But in the meantime, it'll be okay. I'll be fine, Ken."

"But—ow!" Kenji winces as you flick him on the forehead. You click your tongue in mild annoyance, speaking once more to reiterate as he rubs the reddened spot on his head, "I said, I'll be fine. So, enough with the brooding, Ken. What's done is done, okay? Nothing's going to chance the fact that I already know, and there's no point in entertaining the 'what if's." You then cross your arms against your chest, before softly muttering under your breath, "...and plus, you definitely gotta work on that transforming gimic of yours. You're gonna give yourself away with that clumsy technique."

Kenji initially gave you an unimpressed look, but he couldn't help the small grin that grew on his face as he spotted the mischievous glint in your eyes. You were definitely poking fun at him now. He lets out an audible scoff in response. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try. I bet if you were in my place, your identity would already be headlining all the news outlets within minutes!" You roll your eyes at this but you end up joining in on his laughter, chuckling alongside him.

Soon after, there was a brief and quiet moment of contemplation, and you found yourself staring at Kenji's profile. His confession wasn't left forgotten as your mind slowly picked up the pieces from earlier and soon, you found yourself growing increasingly flustered at the memory. The thing is, you did in fact reciprocate his feelings. With his success, you didn't think he'd even so much as spare a glance in your direction, expecting him to settle for someone of his calibre. You always thought that he was way beyond your league, so of course, you had your insecurities. But now, even if it was only for a brief moment, they all seemed to have dissipated and was now replaced by a warm, fuzzy sensation.

"Hey...so, uhm...about your confession," you quietly muster, unable to look at him straight in the eye, "...I guess I should give you my answer, huh?" Kenji's posture straightens in response as an uneasy expression takes over his features, having been reminded of his humiliation, "[Y/n], wait. Like I said, you don't have to say anything right now if you don't want to—" You didn't really comprehend what he was saying at that point, distracted by the loud thumping of your heart against your ears.

You bite your lip nervously, adjusting yourself in your seat to face him properly as Kenji continues to waffle on about your regard. Before your nerves could've forced you to back down, you were quick to dip forward and place a small peck against his cheek, just at the corner of his lips — you also made sure to have it linger a bit to send your message across better. Kenji stiffens as a result, shutting him up completely as a dumb-struck look strikes his face. "I like you too, Ken..." you say when you pull away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It takes a few moments for Kenji to fully comprehend what just happened, before a shy, boyish giggle escapes his lips. "Well...I did not expect this to go the way it did," he airly says in a mixture of shock and amusement. You smile widely at him, finding his expression very endearing. "Oh, yeah? Then what did you have planned for me then, hot-shot?" You tease lightly with newfound confidence, leaning against the counter as you rest your chin on your hands. Kenji smirks. "Well, I was planning on serenading you and sweeping you off of your feet, and then carrying you off into the sunset," he jokes lowly, mirroring you. At this point, your faces were just centimetres away, and Kenji could practically feel the warmth radiating off of you. His eyes then dart towards your lips, thinking about how plush and inviting they looked, before looking back up towards your face. You also found yourself doing the same.

It was magnetising, the way you both naturally closed the gap between yourselves. His lips perfectly moulded itself with yours as his hands found its way to your cheeks, pulling you closer towards him. Your own fingers crept its way up the base of his neck, interlacing them as you also tugged him into you.

Ans so, after this eventful aftermath, and at the end of the day, Kenji (begrudgingly) had no more secrets to hide from you.

A/N: YALL...the absolute chokehold this man has on me is INSANE...but otherwise, thank you for reading! As always, constructive criticism is much appreciated!!

[crescenthistory]

congratulations my darling, you deserve thousands upon thousands of followers 🥺🥺 you are truly a poet, an artist, a master !!

if it's not too much, could i ask you to argue for domestic prompt #15 with our lovely boy remus lupin? 👉👈

STOP IT that is so sweet of you, i love you endlessly darling<33 big hug to you

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 15 "odd socks" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

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cw: fluff, fireplace, teasing/banter & wc: 1.5k

Remus could hear from the creaking of the floorboards upstairs that you had woken up at last. A small smile began to bloom on his face, not much unlike the winter sun that was peaking in through the sheer curtains of the living room.

The two of you had been spending the start of January at the Lupin household in Cardiff to look after its plants and animals while his parents travelled south to escape the cold. If Remus wasn't already certain that he intended to build a quiet life with you, he was now completely swallowed up by the idea, feeling as if he was living in a fairytale with you.

His aching back did not allow him to sleep for long, but you looked so heavenly when he fell asleep with you and woke up to you in the guest bedroom. The floral sheets looked stunning against your beautiful skin, your messy limbs splayed perfectly out beneath the duvet. It felt so natural, so domestic to spend these moments with you that Remus knew had it not been for his pain, he would have stayed swaddled up with you forever.

Instead, he had the pleasure of lounging around this cabin-like home that his parents moved into during his last years at Hogwarts, wearing baggy and cosy checkered pants and a knitted jumper courtesy of his grandma. Remus took his time watering the various plants his mum fawned over, cleaning up the little messes he found and keeping the hearth alive to encourage some heat into the stubborn wooden floors.

Eventually he settled down in a plush armchair and picked up his knitting needles – gods, if James and Sirius could see him now, they would be laughing until they cried, calling him all sorts of names ranging from "senior citizen" to "GILF". Remus knew this because they had before. He had rolled his eyes then and most certainly would do the same now, but a smile played over his lips at the thought nonetheless.

He picked knitting back up again whenever he went home, especially after he saw how you lit up when you found out he even knew how. The warmth that spread in his chest at the mere thought of maybe impressing you was enough to keep him speeding his way through this second sock he was working on.

It was while in the midst of a purling row, humming New Angels of Promise by Bowie absentmindedly to himself that he heard you wake up at last. He had set a kettle on earlier and prepared a fruit bowl for breakfast, but wanted to wait for you. He would have happily done so for many more hours if it meant he was about to be blessed with the sight of your freshly woken up face.

Descending the stairs while yawning, you turned the corner to the living room and Remus got to see what he had longed for – you, in his oversized t-shirt with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

"G'morning, dove." The smile was both audible in his tone and very visible on his face.

Your eyes locked on his and you returned his expression tenfold. "Good morning, handsome." Your voice was hoarse with sleep, which apparently came as a surprise to you by the widening of your eyes at the sound.

You both burst into quiet giggles.

He turned his face up towards yours, fingers stilling on the needles, waiting and hoping for a kiss; you were never one to deny him. With the smile still plastered over your lips, you pressed yours against his and he breathed you in while beckoning you closer by the softening of his lips and touch.

He hummed happily until you pulled away, taking a few steps away from him to stand directly in front of the fireplace.

"Where'd you go?" He asked with a pout that was only half in jest, making you roll your eyes fondly.

"I just escaped my cocoon, it's freezing out here in comparison," you stated matter-of-factly, wrapping your arms around yourself. While he was sure the warmth was quite nice, Remus was also overly aware of how close to the smoldering fire you were.

"Come here and I'll warm ya up." His tone was equal parts teasing and joyful as he properly set his knitting aside to open his arms to you.

You didn't need to be asked twice. With a grin that just screamed of lovestruckness in a way that made Remus' blood sing and twirl, you climbed into his lap, tucking your feet beneath his pajama-clad thigh.

One of his hands immediately settled around your waist, while the other began to rub up and down your thigh, over your knee, warming the cold and exposed skin beneath your shorts.

When he looked at where your feet were hiding beneath his leg, Remus couldn't help but laugh.

"Dovey," he said, almost chiding but a bit too happy to sound convincing. "Of course you're cold, you're walking around wearing just one sock!"

You looked down, eyebrows already shooting up and mouth opening to defend yourself. "I couldn't find the other one! This cabin requires big wool socks, and I could only find one half of the pair."

Remus' cheeks heated at the realisation, and his tone immediately switches from faux chiding to sheepish. "You mean the blue ones?"

Your eyes narrowed on him. "Yeah? The mate to the one sock I am wearing?"

Remus let his arm around you come up so he could twirl your hair between his fingers. "Sorry dove, that might be on me. I may have borrowed your sock."

While you desperately wanted to keep up the banter, you could not help but break character and laugh heartily at how chastised he looked already, cupping both of his cheeks and squeezing them hard before pressing quick kisses in succession to his lips. "You silly silly man," you murmured. "What are you even doing with my sock?"

Remus melted into your touch, smiling dopily at your attention. He looked sideways towards his knitting needles placed on the coffee table to the right of the armchair. "I might have used it... for reference?"

Your brows furrowed in interest and you dropped his hand in favour of looking in the same direction he was. The cooing sound that escaped you at what you found was one that James and Sirius also would have bullied you relentlessly for – Remus was beginning to realise how lucky you both were to be in private.

"Love, are you knitting me a pair of socks?" you asked in reverence, letting your hand ghost over the delicate yarn in your favourite colour.

"Well, you said you should have packed more thick socks before we came here, so." Remus shrugged, trying to downplay the significance of the act. 

You didn't let him, of course.

You melted further into his side as you picked up the one half of the pair that he had already finished, feeling how soft it was to the touch, how beautiful it looked against your skin. When you turned your head towards him, your faces were mere millimetres apart. "How did I get so lucky with you, hm?"

"Must have been a gift from the universe," he agreed readily, already leaning in for a kiss before you could claim it for yourself.

These slow morning kisses that were all softness, cosy fabric and cold skin cemented Remus' love for you beyond just his heart, it became ingrained into his bones and nerves.

You came apart just so you could put on the finished sock. Remus shook his head and laughed at you. "Darling, they're not finished."

"This one is!" You pulled the sock all the way up on your exposed foot, lifting it so he could see how much of a perfect fit it is. "You can continue using the one you stole as reference, and I'll break this one in in the meantime."

The sight of you with mis-matched wool socks, one of which he made, while placed so prettily in his lap with sleepy eyes was one Remus worked overtime to commit to memory and never forget. "You're an odd one, you know that?" He smiled his whole way through the sentence.

You returned it in full. "Yeah," you admitted breathlessly. "And you are the sock thief who is in love with me."

Remus pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "Is it really classified as thievery if I return it and give you another pair?"

You murmured a "shut up" as you chased his lips for more, laughing heartily against him.

[malfoysanctuary]

The Way He Loves

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley has always been reckless on a broom, but when it comes to you, he's careful—intentional. He sees the little things, the way you endure the roaring Quidditch crowds just for him, and he makes sure you never forget just how much he loves you in return.

The Gryffindor stands were vibrating with energy. The air was thick with tension, and the roar of the crowd was deafening, a mix of cheers, groans, and the occasional spellfire of colorful charms thrown into the air in celebration. It was everything you hated.

And yet, there you were, tucked into the very front row, Fred’s old red and gold sweater drowning your frame, your hands clenched into the fabric as you watched him soar through the air like he was born for it.

You hated Quidditch. Loathed it. The dizzying speed, the crashing bodies, the way your heart jumped every time a bludger narrowly missed Fred’s head. The games were long, the crowd was loud, and frankly, you had a thousand things you’d rather be doing.

But you loved Fred Weasley.

And Fred Weasley loved Quidditch.

You watched as he grinned mid-air, swerving past a Slytherin Chaser with a level of recklessness that made your stomach twist. He was all confidence, all ease, the golden boy of Gryffindor with mischief in his eyes and trouble in his veins. And then, between the chaos, the yells, and the bludgers flying at ridiculous speeds, he looked at you.

Just for a second.

A split moment where he searched for your face in the sea of screaming students, and when he found you—watching, waiting, there for him and him alone—he smirked. That stupid, cocky smirk that made you want to both kiss and hex him.

Then, with one final, showy move, he sent the Quaffle flying straight through the hoop, sealing Gryffindor’s victory.

The crowd exploded.

Your stomach unclenched.

You watched as he celebrated with his team, as the Gryffindors around you went mad with excitement, but you stayed still, watching, waiting. Because you knew—no matter how many cheers or slaps on the back he received—Fred Weasley was always going to come to you first.

And he did.

Before the victory chants had even settled, Fred was running toward you, hair windswept, cheeks flushed, still in his sweaty Quidditch gear. You barely had time to react before he scooped you up, spinning you in the air as you shrieked in protest.

"Fred! You’re disgusting—put me down!"

He only laughed, spinning you once more before setting you back on your feet, his hands sliding to your waist as he grinned down at you. "You love it, darling."

You scowled, trying to shove him off, but he held firm. “You smell like a broomstick and sweat. It’s revolting.”

"And yet, you're still here," he mused, tilting his head. "Still sitting through an entire match, watching me be brilliant, all because you love me."

Your face heated. “You’re insufferable.”

Fred leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, and just like that, all your irritation melted. “And you’re my favorite person in the world.”

Your heart clenched.

Because Fred Weasley noticed things.

Noticed the way you endured the games despite your hatred for them. Noticed the way you never complained, never made him feel guilty for loving the sport, even though he knew you hated every second.

And because he noticed, he never let you feel like your efforts went unappreciated.

As the celebration roared on around you, he pulled you closer, lowering his voice. “Tomorrow’s all yours.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

He smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Tomorrow. No Quidditch, no flying, no rowdy Gryffindor nonsense. Just you and me doing whatever you want.”

Your chest tightened, warmth blooming beneath your ribs.

"You mean that?"

Fred’s expression softened. "I always mean it when it comes to you, love."

The next morning, true to his word, Fred met you outside the common room looking as far from a Quidditch player as possible. Instead of his usual uniform or training gear, he wore a cozy sweater, hands stuffed into his pockets, a lazy, easy smile playing on his lips.

“I am officially at your mercy today,” he declared, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. “I, Fred Weasley, solemnly swear to participate in whatever god-awful, non-Quidditch-related activities you desire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Even if it means being dragged through a six-hour book-shopping excursion?”

Fred grinned, slipping his fingers through yours. “Even if it means suffering through your overly dramatic book obsessions.”

And that was how you found yourself wandering through the cozy, quiet aisles of the bookstore in Hogsmeade, Fred trailing behind you like a lost puppy, occasionally picking up the most ridiculous books he could find just to make you laugh. Instead of bludgers, he dodged your playful shoves. Instead of a roaring crowd, it was just you and him, tucked away from the world, his hand never straying far from yours.

And at lunch, when you sat together at The Three Broomsticks, he listened intently as you rambled about your latest book obsession, nodding along despite the fact that he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.

Because Fred Weasley made an effort.

Because he never let love be one-sided.

By the time dinner rolled around, the Great Hall was buzzing, students chatting excitedly about yesterday’s match. But as always, Fred didn’t care about any of it. He sat beside you, the rest of Gryffindor still riding the high of their victory, but his attention was only on one thing—making sure you had food before he even thought about his own.

You watched, warmth spreading through your chest, as he grabbed your favorites first, piling your plate high before finally grabbing his own. It was instinct for him, something so small yet so telling.

The little things.

The way he paid attention.

The way he always made sure you were taken care of, always put you first, even when you didn’t ask him to.

You swallowed, nudging his thigh beneath the table. "You really don’t have to do that every time, you know."

Fred simply shot you a look, as if the mere suggestion was absurd. "Course I do. You think I’d let my girl starve?"

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. "You’re ridiculous."

Fred leaned in, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. "Ridiculously in love with you?"

You sighed, shaking your head, but your smile gave you away.

Loving Fred Weasley was easy.

Because when he loved, he loved completely.

And he made sure you never, ever forgot it.

[vhagarys]

Issa Ānogar {My Blood}

pt. 1

targaryen!siblings x reader, brother!aemond x reader, brother!aegon x reader, sister!helaena x reader

summary: drunken words are sober thoughts. you confess your desire for your siblings and come to find such affections are more than reciprocated.

warnings: canon-typical incest, brother x sister, slight voyeurism, eventual smut, groping, horny reader!, sexual harassment, possessive!targ!siblings

MDNI

The queen dowager requested her children along with some of the Hightower’s closest allies to join in a banquet to celebrate their victory over team black.

Rows and rows of the finest meats and cheese, as well as decadent cakes and pastries were prepared. Servants floated around the room with goblets of wine and small delicacies.

Much to their displeasure, Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena arrived and greeted their mother.

Their mother excused herself from the small group of riverlords and kissed each of her children.

“You all are dressed nicely, where may i ask is your sister?” Alicent questioned.

Immediately, they turned to scan the room in search of you, their little sister usually always punctual with such events.

“Perhaps she’s still in her chambers dressing? she did ride on dragonback this morning,” Helaena offered.

Aegon scoffed, “I believe sister had the right idea in not attending such a mundane affair. I’ve no desire to sip wine with these leeches of the crown”.

Alicent gave her son a disapproving look. “Your presence is required at this ‘mundane affair” my king. I’m sure helping yourself to the refreshments won’t prove too burdensome.” With that, she began to venture back into the crowd to greet their guests.

Meanwhile, you had just returned from a visit with some friends of yours.

What started off as a quaint lunch in the garden, soon turned south as the wine began to flow. It was as if your glass would magically refill itself as soon as you emptied it.

Now, you were positively intoxicated. You were escorted back to your chambers, although proved quite the challenge as you made a point to run and hide from the guards.

Everyone in this blessed castle have sticks up their arse, you rolled your eyes.

After arriving to your chambers, your servants immediately approached you. “Princess Y/N, you’re supposed to be at the banquet your mother is hosting,” one of them clicked their tongue disapprovingly.

You turned to her and pulled her into an embrace and pulled away to gaze upon her face.

“You have the most lovely eyes i’ve ever seen,” you lightly squeezed her cheek.

“W-why thank you my lady. now which dress do you wish to wear tonight?” She went to grab a modest green gown. dull, drab, with its neckline reaching up over your collarbones.

“The queen dowager requests you wear this tonight princess, I believe you’ll look positively beautiful.”

Scanning over the dress, you shook your head in disapproval, marching towards your dresser.

“That will just not do. i am a woman grown and should be dressed as such,” your hazy mind drifted, and an idea soon popped into your head.

You always envied the dresses made for your older sister Helaena, crafted to show off her womanly figure and all her newly presented curves.

Stumbling towards the door, you offered no more than a quick, “one moment!” and dashed down the hall to your sisters chambers.

Rummaging through her closet, your eyes met the perfect dress for tonights affairs.

A rich, emerald gown with a plunging neckline, adorned with a thin belt around the waist area made of small golden coins. There were specks of gold on the sleeves and the back of the dress dipped down to your hips.

Clutching the dress in hand, you all but threw the dress in the air toward your servants.

“This will suffice”, you were giddy with the notion you’d finally a how off your womanly figure.

It was tiresome upkeeping the virtuous position of the youngest targaryen daughter. You’d grown tired of people treating you as if you were a fragile doll on the verge of cracking.

As a women of ten and 9, you wished for people to look at you with the desire and lust they did for other ladies of court.

Before your servants had time to properly fix your hair, you ducked under their busying hands and and out the door.

The copious amount of wine buzzed through your veins. Any thoughts of prudishness or doubt drowned with each sip.

With a small nod, the guards at the door opened the doors to the banquet, you could barely hide the satisfied grin etched on your face.

As you made your way into the hall, voices seized and heads swiveled to gaze at the culprit to arrive at such tardy hour.

Your newfound confidence allowed you to meet their gazes and grin at their stunned faces as you walk threw the crowds of lords and ladies.

At the sound of the door opening, your siblings turned to see you waltzing in, a bit clumsily to say the least.

The three of them were fixated on their dear sister, noting the stark contrast in her usual attire. They scanned over your exposed breasts and back, the dress leaving little to their imagination as it clung to every crevice of your body.

Aemond tried his best to remain composed as he watched you make your way around to all the lords in attendance, fluttering your eyelashes and reaching out to greet them.

“Well well, our sister sure knows how to make an entrance.” Aegon admired the way your breasts practically spilled out of your dress. He felt his pants tighten and reached down to adjust himself.

“I believe our sister borrowed one of my gowns this evening,” Helaena chuckled. She couldn’t help but admire you, she always held such a fondness for you that was beyond sisterly affection.

It was quite common for the pair of you to change in front of each other, sometimes even bathe together. She knew her eyes always lingered a bit too long on your bare form.

Sometimes she would fantasize of her mouth between your legs, indulging in the taste of your juicy cunt like a man starved.

The siblings were broken out of their train of thought when your voice broke through the conversations being made.

You climbed up to the top of the steps at the royals table and cleared your throat.

“A toast!” you declared with a shit eating grin. You turned to look at your brother, the king adorning his valyrian steel crown.

You bowed, knowing you gave him the perfect view of your breasts and smirked, “to my brother, king Aegon, for his bravery on the battlefield and for leading us to victory!”

Aegon shamelessly bit his lip and matched your smirk, “Anything for family dōna haedar (sweet sister).

You then turned to Aemond, excited at the prospect of making your older brother blush.

“To my brother Aemond, who fearlessly rode his dragon vhagar and defeated our enemies in the sky!”

You took a sip of your wine as Aemond shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, nodding at you quickly before looking down at his plate.

You then turned and stalked toward your elder sister, confusion evident on her face as you stood in front of her.

You stared into her eyes, “ to my dear sister Helaena, for protecting me from harm whilst the battle raged on. For keeping me company during the day and in the nights when i couldn’t sleep,” Helaena sat impeccably still as you bent down and kissed her on the cheek. A pink hue immediately consuming her face as she stared back at you.

Your mother and Otto exchanged a glance, baffled by your odd behavior.

You nearly tripped as you climbed up to stand on the table and face the crowd. “Let us drain our cups to celebrate our newfound freedom. Kostagon īlva ērinnon maghagon zūgagon isse lī qilōni nykeōragon gōvilagon īlva,” a few drops spilled down you chin as you drained the last of your wine. (May our victory bring fear in those who stand against us).

The crowd applaused and lifted their cups to meet your toast, your mother urging the guards to remove you from such a compromising predicament.

Suddenly, a presence behind scooped you up under your knees, making you yelp in suprise.

“How much have you drunk sister?” Aemond murmured in your ear as he brought you back to the royal table.

Aegon couldn’t contain his laugh at his sisters outburst.

You wound your arms tightly around Aemond’s neck as he attempted to set you down.

Finally, you conceded and plopped into your chair next to your king brother.

“Little sister, you are too far gone,” Aegon tucked a piece of your silver hair behind your ear.

Reveling in the attention, you giggled, “ Whatever do you mean, dear brother. i am just delighted with our families victory!” You proceeded to gulp down the goblet of wine in front of you and pop a lemon cake into your mouth.

“Perhaps you should retire for the night sister, until you’re clear of mind,” Helaena suggested. her hand absentmindedly reached out for yours.

You looked at her for a moment, before a mischievous smile grew on your face.

“Mandia, do you like my gown?” you asked, hoping she knew where you procured it from. (older sister)

Helaena lightly chuckled, “MY gown looks even better on you, you look beautiful.”

You turned to your king brother, “What do you think, lekia? does it look nice on me?” (brother) you had taken the time while speaking to Helaena to slightly pull down the bodice of your dress, leaving your cleavage even more on display.

“Ravishing, I’d be wise to command all the lords here to steer clear of you. Wouldn’t want my dear sister caught up in these men’s affections-” he shamelessly stared down at your breasts and pursed his lips. “could we, hm?”

You could just make out the darkening in your brothers eyes, and when you turned to Aemond you could see him wearing a similar expression.

“Oh brother, you needn’t worry about other suitors”, your eyes twinkled as the wine coursed through your veins.

You slowly leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Because i only want the three of you,” you boldly kissed the outside the kings ear.

Helaena and Aemond were frozen at their sisters revelation. you pouted, “You do not want me? I thought we were meant to have each other, body and soul?”

The words tumbled out of you mouth without a second thought, “It’s family tradition to claim each other, is it not? I’ve preserved my maidenhood just for you issa ānogar” (my blood)

You leaned in once more to daringly grip Aemond’s cock through his riding leathers. “I can feel your desire for me lekia, do you deny it?,” you pouted.

aemond promptly gripped your arm and yanked your hand away.

“Sister, there are prying eyes everywhere,” he hissed as he look at you disapprovingly.

The taste of rejection settled on your tongue. You couldn’t see the turmoil coursing through your siblings, all three so close to admitting their shared desires for you.

You huffed and pushed out your chair. “I suppose, then, i shall have to find a suitable lord to satisfy my needs. I’m sure any man here will delight in claiming my innocence, filling me with their seed. perhaps lord strong-“

Aemond forced you back into your chair and loomed over you, gripping your face just hard enough to silence you.

“Nyke dōrī knew īlva mandia istan mirrī līve,” he chuckled cruelly. (I never knew our baby sister was such a little whore).

His eyes traveled down to your exposed breasts and softly hummed.

Your eyes widened at the filthy words.

Knowing no one else at the table could understand them, Aegon added, “Skorkydoso bē nyke obūljagon ao toliot bisa qurdon se leghagon ao rūsīr issa nūmo, ao raqagon bona?” (how about i bend you over this table and fill you with my seed, would you like that?). Your small clothes began to dampen with arousal.

To onlookers, it simply appeared as your brothers doting on you, as Aegon lightly traced circles on the small of your back.

Helaena’s eyes began to cloud with lust as she saw her brothers words effect on you. You rubbed your legs together at your brothers depraved words.

“Please”, was all you could muster as you looked over at your sister. Here you were, doe eyes begging her siblings to defile, corrupt as they please.

Soon, she leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Gūrogon aōla se jikagon naejot aōha”. (excuse yourself and go to your chambers).

Your mind was hazy with desire for your siblings, fantasizing about this day for years. A part of you knew you would end up with them, as it was Targaryen tradition. The wanton lust you carried for each of them only the cherry on top.

Scanning the room, you spotted your mother and beelined over to her.

“Dear mother, i’m afraid i need to retire to my chambers. I feel i need to lie down” your mother caressed your face.

“Have you fallen ill, dear? Your cheeks are quite flushed.”

You could feel their gaze on you. Stumbling over your words, you chuckled nervously, “I-I think I outdid myself with the refreshments”.

Your mother clicker her tongue critically, “You certainly made a spectacle of yourself tonight. I hope you’ve learned from this.” you nodded.

With a final scan over your form, Alicent bid you good night and kissed your forehead.

Your mind swirled with the possibilities of what they would do to you. You felt slick running down your legs at the unspoken promise in your sisters words. Soon, i will have them.

The door was in your sights as a hand reached out to stop you in your tracks.

“I must say, princess you look absolutely divine this evening,” lord Bronn Lannister brought your hand to his lips and smiled at you.

You could smell the wine on his breath, just as he probably could with you. You took a slight step back and curtsied, “You are most kind, my lord. if you’ll excuse me-”

“And where could such a lovely lady be running off to, the party is far from over,” he yanked you back into his space. He twirled a lock of your hair between his fingers, pressing himself disgustingly close.

“If you are in need of entertaining, I’d be happy to oblige,” his eyes shamelessly raking over your form.

Bile began to rise at your throat. The panic at his bold behavior surged through you, and you tried to pull away to no avail.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me-”

“Quite the gentleman, lord lannister. you’ve certainly outdone yourself tonight. Do you have such little regard for your life that you’d dare touch the princess?” your brother Aemond yanked him back by his collar.

“I-”

A hand from behind slithered up to squeeze his shoulders. “I could have your hand chopped off for laying a hand on my sister. even better, i could have you hanged at this very party,” Aegon whispered behind him, delighting in watching lord lannisters skin crawl.

“Forgive me, my king. I-I meant no offense-“

“It’s not them you should be apologizing too,” your older sister pulled you into her embrace. You buried your face in your neck to calm yourself, overwhelmed with what had just transpired.

“Sister, he frightened me,” you whimpered into her neck, her hand reaching up to stroke at your hair.

Aegon and Aemond fumed at seeing their sister in such distress.

“sir criston!” Aegon roared, “Perhaps Lord Lannister needs a refresher in banquet etiquette. why don’t you escort him down to a cell,” he took one of the lannisters cheeks in his hand and smiled sinisterly. Then, he wound his arm back and struck him with such force his stumbled to the ground.

The crowd stilled as the scene unfolded. Lord lannister was then unceremoniously dragged through the doors and down towards the cells.

Aemond once again took you in his arms and walked out of the banquet hall. As you did earlier that night evening, you tightly wound your arms around his neck for fear of losing him.

The three of you silently walked back to your chambers, Aemond keeping you his arms as he sat you both on the bed.

After a few minutes of silence, you mustered, “K am sorry for my outburst and the events that followed. I admit i have had my share of wine tonight, i just wanted to-“

Aegon took your chin in his hand and stared deeply into your eyes, “Dear sister, you have no reason to apologize. I will have that cunts throat for putting his dirty hands on you.”

The idea of your brother executing lord lannister made a bolt of desire spark through you. Knowing your brother possessed such power and would wield it to protect you made you rub your thighs. Aemond felt every ounce of it.

A yawn soon broke the silence. Aemond began to lay you back on your bed until you softly whined, “Brother i cannot sleep in such a contraption, can you unlace the corset?”

He was surprisingly deft at weaving through the bindings of your dress. Soon, you were left in a small cream colored shift, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Helaena tried not to stare, although proved futile as you reached over to kiss her on the cheek. “Sister, you look very beautiful tonight as well. the gods have blessed me with such a ravishing sister ,” the last bit of wine in you spoke as you pulled the shift over your head, leaving you bare for your siblings.

Aegon shamelessly looked over your body. He saw the way your nipples perked from the breeze, He had to contain his groan.

Moving down past your perfectly sculpted birthing hips, he ogled at his sisters plump, juicy cunt. Oh, how easy it would be to spread your thighs have a taste.

Perhaps he’d indulge in your cunt whilst you slept the wine away. He knew he could bring you to peak on his tongue, even in sleep.

Knowing you were on the brink of sleep, Aemond refrained from lingering on your form too long. Already feeling the effect of seeing your naked body in his riding leathers, he reached for the blanket to cover you.

Your head hit the pillows. and as your mind was pulled closer to the realm of sleep, you muttered, “I do want you, all three of you. issa ānogar.” (my blood)

A subtle glance was exchanged between the three of them before Helaena kissed you sweetly on the forehead. “Sleep well little sister.”

The doors to your chambers closed behind them and Aegon chucked,” How am i to sleep when our sister practically begged for me to spear my cock inside her”.

“Hush,” Aemond hissed, knowing there were likely guards lurking about.

“We will speak of this on the morrow. perhaps it was only the wine talking, she seemed quite out her wits,” Helaena suggested with the slightest tone of disappointment.

“She wants it. She craves it,” Aegon made to walk back into your chambers. Aemond snorted and abruptly stopped him with a shove to the chest.

At the sound of steps drawing closer, the three of them separated to their respective chambers.

The ache between your legs only worsened as the night grew later. You were enraptured in the most depraved of dreams. Imagery of your brothers impaling you on their cocks and filling you to the brim with their seed, all while getting lost in the taste of your sister’s cunt swirled through your mind.

You would soon wake with an inescapable hunger that only they could satiate.

— PART 2

i hope you enjoyed! planning on doing a part two so comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list! ♥︎

- alice 𓆩𓆪