#also this is an hour later than i meant to post it
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iridescentis · 8 months ago
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The fic is finally here! This idea came to me in a fever dream I do not know how I got here but I loved writing it, so here it is!
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faunina · 2 years ago
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happy TWO YEAR anniversary to everyone who attended the destiel wedding!
and happy valentines day to the rest of you guys <3 click the image for a surprise!
if you’ve ever seen that one post (i’ll link it in the replies) about the parallels between the rodeo scene in 12x11 and the movie “urban cowboy” and it entirely broke your brain, then this post is for you. and also i’m kissing you on the mouth
[ID. Digital art of Dean Winchester done in black and white. He���s is laid back on top of an electric bull. One hand rests on his hip while the other hovers in mid-air, fingers slightly curled, and he seems to be looking at it. When clicked, the transparency shows Castiel standing behind him. Castiel is holding Dean’s hand to his lips, while his other hand supports the back of Dean’s head. Castiel has a visible halo and wings that he has curled protectively around Dean. End ID.]
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some-greatreward · 7 months ago
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maybe i need meds???
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creatediana · 7 months ago
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"Junho" - an exercise in willow charcoal done 4/22/2024 in about 20 minutes of Lee Junho from 2PM
#this month it will be a FULL decade since i started this blog. but we were just a few short days#of making it 10 years without my kpop obsession leaking onto this sideblog. i thought we'd make it#i thought we'd make it but we didn't#my drawing#junho#2024#2pm#lee junho#charcoal#willow charcoal#drawing exercise#i drew something else today but i'm saving it to post later#and i only wrote one poem today and it was crap. so here's an exercise#i like how most of the drawings i post to this blog are just beautiful men#it's overrepresented in my portfolio admittedly#im not exactly 'proud' of this but i do like posting my exercises now and then bc they are fun to look at#i find examining my rushed/practiced drawings to be a lot more helpful in spotting my own strengths and weaknesses#than finished drawings i put a lot of dedication in#with this one i can say that the nose is off-center and the skull doesn't go all the way around on the left#as much as it should. but since it's clearly not meant to be a fully 'good' drawing it's more forgivable#if i had slaved at this for four hours it would kill me to stare at that inaccuracy#also: this is yet another example of the 'diana likes to draw faces far more than clothes' style of portrait#it's not that i dislike drawing clothes but they are so much less fascinating to me#i could stare at faces forever. whereas fabric doesn't inspire me to craft every detail just so.#and it shouldn't. because fabric is far more forgiving than human anatomy anyway
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seveneyesoup · 1 year ago
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lolita (transcript below cut)
[Begin transcript:
The 101-Project
It had long been suspected that it might be possible to engineer a timeship which thought like a living, growing, biological creature. No experiments had ever been performed, however, as the entire concept was simply... unpleasant. Biology was still vaguely repulsive to the Houses, the situation only beginning to change after the rise of groups like Faction Paradox and the suggestion, in the face of the coming apocalypse, that biological breeding on some level might be a wise precaution. A century and a half before the War, the ruling Houses had already sanctioned the production of several machine-hominids - artificial sentients, actual robots, previously thought to be too “vulgar” for words - and after that it wasn’t long until the obvious suggestion was made.
A new breed of timeships, said the Homeworld’s more progressive elements. A timeship which was intelligent, in the biological, hominid sense of the word, a timeship which could commmnicate and therefore receive orders.The coming War would require troops, and a timeship which was in itself a self-aware unit would have been an agent worth entire armies. However, in principle nobody was sure how to go about creating such a ship. It wasn’t possible to simply graft an artificial intelligence onto a Pre-War vessel. A “normal” engineered brain wouldn’t understand the more subtle processes holding a timeship’s body together, and it was even speculated that no mind could know what a timeship knows without becoming so abstract that communication became impossible. Clearly an entirely new breed of ship had to be grown, nudged toward hominid communication rather than programmed for it, slowly educated and nurtured as it grew in its cradle. The first attempt at this was known as the 101-Project, the Presidency declaring that an entirely new numbering system would be brought into use with the new breed.
The 101-Project was an infamous failure. Nobody outside the Homeworld could have been shocked. The idea of the Houses “nurturing” a whole new species, when even their own children were force-bred and force-educated, was simply laughable. They knew little of psychology, and cared even less, attempting to steer the 101’s course by constantly attacking the craft with heavy-duty biodata waldoes. But at least the first bio-timeship was successfully reared, even if it was never actually going to be controllable.
Almost nine-hundred years earlier, a similar bio-application of technology had been attempted when the Imperator Presidency had sanctioned the breeding of the insane, unstable babels. The pattern now repeated itself, although on an even grander scale. The Houses had repressed their primal heritage for so long that they’d simply forgotten what biology meant, so the protean, struggling thing born out of the 101-Project could only have been a surprise to the Houses themselves. As it lay in its cradle of dampers and manipulators, screaming and lashing out with its multiple biodata strands while desperately clawing at nearby time to find some form of escape, it's possible that the technicians started to remember what their culture had spent the last ten-million years trying to suppress.
End transcript.]
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secretmellowblog · 1 year ago
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People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.
The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.
But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.
The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.
This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.
Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.
So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-
And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—
And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!
If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.
The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.
It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)
I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.
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I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.
The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win
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lewisvinga · 8 months ago
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sleepy girl chronicles | lando norris x fem! reader
summary; in which half of lando.jpg’s posts is just his sleepy girlfriend ( in the most random places )
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; suggestive comment, cursing
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; requested ! wasn’t sure if this was meant to be smau or written so i just did smau :)
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and others !
lando.jpg: the most normal places y/n has been found sleeping in
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: LANDO NORRRIS??
yourusername: FUCK YOUUU😭😭
landonorris: you already did last night how do u think i got the last picture ??
georgerussell63: ENOUGHHHHHHH
yourusername: omg i don’t sleep that often do i??
landonorris: well….
username: LANDOS REPLY???😭😭
username: she’s so real 4 that tho🚶‍♀️
username: the eye mask and teddy bear she’s js like me fr
lilymhe: my sweet angel gorgeous bby taking naps👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
yourusername: wanna be my pillow 😼
lilymhe: is the sky blue? YES
landonorris: don’t take MY pillow away from me, back off lily 🤺🤺
alex_albon: back off from my gf🤺🤺
username: oh to sleep on an lv pillow w an lv blanket 😞
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others !
lando.jpg: the sleepy girl chronicles pt. ( i lost track ); y/n falling asleep on max’s couch and less than an hour later is found in his guest room w jimmy, also fell asleep at dinner ??
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: i am just a girl😞😞
landonorris: a sleepy one
yourusername: jimmy💓
landonorris: no, lando 💓
yourusername: no way ur jealous of a cat lando
landonorris: why is he hogging MY woman😒
username: LMAOAOSKAKS
username: stoppp the cat pic is adorable
maxverstappen1: so that’s where jimmy went that night….
yourusername: he’s a sweet boy😞😞💞
landonorris: i don’t have claws and i don’t bite im sweeter
yourusername: LANDOANSKSS
username: anemic girlies rise ✊
username: the picture of her sleeping at a restaurant sends meee😭😭
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe, and others !
yourusername: sleepy girl chronicles but it’s lando being grumpy i had to wake him up before qualifying + lando getting caught trying to take a nap after making fun of me for napping😁😁😁
tagged; landonorris
landonorris: sue me 🙄 you make naps look comfy especially on the plane🫤
yourusername: then stop making fun of me😞
landonorris: not my fault u sleep at any chance you get no matter where 😔
landonorris: ‘lately i feel like this’ u feel like that all the time now c’mere
yourusername: OMWWWWW
username: why does he look so grumpy i😭😭
username: it’s tough being a sleepy girl in this wrld 😞😞😞
username: the last pic 😭 i just know he laughed so hard at being caught that he teared up🤣
lilymhe: but ur the best sleepy girl
yourusername: ur the best girl
landonorris: too bad she’s going to nap on me rn
alex_albon: ??!!2@;928:&
username: sleepy girl chronicles goes on!!!
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coryndoll · 5 days ago
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plot ── tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.
content ── reader being toooo pretty that drew is just like woah, drew being so observant ugh love him, reader not even trying to get his attention at all but ure just so alluring to him
authors note ── yea FUCK my series even tho i made that poll tbh im just so unmotivated. i saw this pic of drew n had some ideas for this lil oneshot of reader interviewing him post-premiere or something and him literally falling in love n reader noticing the little things n he becomes soheart eyes for u omg
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you were a little nervous, to say the least. it was supposed to be a one-on-one interview, which somehow felt more intense than group ones with an entire cast. at least in those, the attention wasn’t entirely on you. but now? now it was just you and drew starkey, a handful of questions, and an awkwardly large camera crew standing just out of frame, watching everything. no pressure, right?
your boss had insisted that this interview focus on drew’s performance in his latest film. fair enough, but it also meant no backup—no costar to bounce off of or share the spotlight. it felt intimate in a way you weren’t entirely comfortable with, no matter how many times you’d done this. at the end of the day, it was just you sitting across from a celebrity while everyone else quietly judged your ability to hold a conversation.
you had almost turned this job down when you first started, not because of the nerves (though there were plenty) but because of the sheer vulnerability of it. still, the exposure wasn’t bad, and the paycheck? even better.
as you stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, the tension in your chest tightened just a bit. drew starkey, an actor you were only somewhat familiar with, sat casually in his chair. outer banks, hellraiser, the other zoey—you’d done your homework, skimming through his projects like your career depended on it. because, well, it kind of did. and he was . . . well, better looking in person, if that was even possible. the kind of face that made you forget you had questions to ask in the first place.
meanwhile, drew had been at this for hours. interviews were basically part of the job, but after a while, they all blended together. same questions, same conversations, just with different faces. he was tired but not miserable, holding onto the thought of dinner plans with some friends later that night.
interviews weren’t bad—he liked the connection when it happened, like the guy he was first interviewed by had laughed when he cracked a joke—but there was only so much charm drew could muster after a full day of talking about himself and the same film.
when you walked into the room, he barely glanced up at first. another assistant, probably, or someone from the crew running around to keep things moving. he didn’t pay much attention until you stopped right in front of him, introducing yourself and the network you worked for, arm extended for a handshake.
his gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, he forgot how to move, but he pulled himself together quickly, or at least he hoped it looked that way. he shook your hand, smiling the kind of easy, practiced smile he’d perfected over the years, but there was something a little shaky in his voice when he said, “nice to meet you.”
he sat back down, reminding himself to focus. you were a professional. he was a professional. this was just another interview. but it was hard to ignore the way his heart picked up every time you looked at him like that—focused, curious, maybe even a little nervous yourself. he wasn’t sure what it was about you, but for the first time that day, he couldn’t wait for the next question.
his hand went to his earlobe almost instinctively, a nervous habit he hadn’t really noticed until now. yeah, you were . . . stunning, in the kind of way that made him feel like he should stand up straighter or check his hair. if someone had told him you were a celebrity, he wouldn’t have questioned it. but the fact that you were here to interview him? that just felt unfair.
but the interview was smooth, the kind he’d done a hundred times before. the questions were predictable again, circling around the same themes: his character, the challenges of filming, the energy on set. drew answered easily, slipping into that familiar rhythm, but every so often, his focus wavered—not on the questions, but on you.
you glanced down at your list, scanning it for the next prompt, and then back up at him with those eyes. god, those eyes. drew swore they could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room, even though he knew there were at least ten crew members just beyond the cameras.
he noticed it, though—how bored you seemed, even if you were too professional to let it show. your smile was polite, your tone unwavering, but every now and then, you hesitated just slightly before asking him a question, like you were already tired of the script you’d been given.
and then there was him, barely able to hold eye contact. it was almost embarrassing when he caught himself smiling at you, just a small, almost shy curve of his lips, but it was enough for you to pause, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him.
"are you okay?" you asked softly, your own lips quirking into a smile that practically knocked the wind out of him.
it was such a simple exchange, but drew could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “yeah. yeah, i’m . . . awesome,” he managed, clearing his throat and looking away for half a second before his eyes found their way back to yours. he had to play it off, had to stay professional, but the way you smiled back at him, like his answer had made your day a little brighter? it felt like a win. still, he reminded himself: there was only so much time left. you were on a clock, and he couldn’t afford to waste it, even if you made it almost too easy to get distracted.
you just laughed, accepting his answer, but the moment lingered. your smile lingered. and the questions rolled on, one after another. nothing groundbreaking, but you kept it light, adding just enough to make it feel like a conversation. drew appreciated that. but eventually, after a particularly shared laugh—he couldn’t even remember what the joke had been—he leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity.
“okay, so what did you think about the movie?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. it caught you off guard; he could tell by the way your posture shifted, your pen stilling over your notes.
and then you started talking.
at first, it was simple—a few observations, some praise for the direction, the performances. but the more you went on, the more animated you became, your voice lifting slightly, your words flowing effortlessly. you dove deep, unraveling moments and emotions from the film like you’d been holding them in since the premiere. drew leaned back, one hand resting against his chin as he watched you, utterly mesmerized.
you talked about the subtlety of his character, how his guarded exterior felt like a shield hiding something raw and vulnerable. you mentioned the tension between the characters—the way their connection felt like a push-and-pull dance neither could fully commit to but couldn’t walk away from either. you dissected the music, the cinematography, how it all wove together like a symphony of yearning and restraint.
and the way you talked about his performance . . .
you didn’t gush, which he appreciated, but your words were thoughtful, specific. you spoke about his quiet expressions, the way he held so much in his body language—the hesitation in his glances, the way his character seemed to pull back just when you thought he’d lean in. it was like you’d been watching with a magnifying glass, picking apart moments even he hadn’t considered.
he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. not just because you liked the movie, though that didn’t hurt, but because it was you. you, sitting across from him, completely unaware of how captivating you looked while tearing apart his work in the best possible way. if someone had asked him to focus on anything other than the way you gestured, your fingers brushing lightly against the edge of your clipboard, or the way your lips curved when you spoke, he would’ve failed miserably.
drew just sat there, watching you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you weren’t just pretty—you were sharp, insightful, and clearly so much more than the routine questions your clipboard suggested.
“you’re good at this,” he said when you finally paused for a breath, and he meant it. but he couldn’t help the slight teasing edge in his tone, the way his smile softened just a little as his eyes met yours again.
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goldenstring6123 · 4 months ago
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Lnds: The boys as parents
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Warning: Long post ahead! 3.7K words in total! reader is MC! f!reader, AFAB!reader, implied abortion
Author's note: I went a little too overboard and specific with this one... IDK if you guys will like it. Might make a part 2/Individual fics it this post does well!
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Zayne as a father:
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He became a parent to 2 kids, both adopted. The eldest is a boy, and the youngest is a girl.
After a life-threatening complication when you were pregnant (it involved the problem in your heart, you and your husband decided to adopt instead. The first was a 4-year-old boy and, later on, a 2-year-old girl from an island near Linkon City.
Zayne works hard as a chief surgeon; even then, the pay at AKSO Hospital is no joke. Despite preparing more than enough money to live comfortably with a child, something within him fueled his desire to do better: before you got married, he worked hard to become a part of the Hospital's board of directors. This allowed him to control his time more and spend fewer hours working.
When you and Zayne adopted your first boy, a 4-year-old named Elias, you met him as a quiet little boy which you found working hard to try and read an outdated newspaper on the island. A few months later, you discovered your now-son's interests in academics and learning. Zayne was pleasantly surprised to see his little boy eager to learn about things outside of the island, so much so that the chief surgeon almost immediately registered him to enter formal schooling.
Most people would assume that, like himself, he expected his son to achieve great things in school, but on some school nights, before bedtime, Zayne would talk to your son. "You're doing well in school, Elias. But don't forget to have fun." You thought Zayne would never really have time to visit your son's plays and school activities. Still, much to your surprise, he was there for most of it, especially in events where your son is involved. It was such a comedic sight watching your husband hold a noncellular camera.
Being a part of the hospital board of directors meant long and lengthy meetings, so there were times when he still had to work late and leave beyond working hours. Sometimes, you let your son stay up and accompany you to pick up your husband. Of course, that's also to buy a hotpot for a midnight snack on the way. There were also times when you and your son would fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He quickly picks you up and places you on his bed, tucking you and himself five minutes later. The next thing you know, it's morning, and the smell of waffles is wafting in the air.
He wasn't outwardly affectionate, but it's more than evident that he loves his son. He praises him to his colleagues (unknowingly), and he gives him gifts, and the cost doesn't matter. But sometimes, he shows love to his child through words, Complimenting his son's actions and skills.
He rarely scolds his son as he's the less strict parent. Your dynamic is the type where if you don't allow your son to go do something, he'll call his dad for backup. You almost always give in. Zayne never really puts his hand on his son. Instead, he opts for a more, face-the-consequence-of-your-actions type of dad. He lets his son be and ensures Elias learns that there are things he can't and shouldn't do. On more bad days, when your son is extremely hard-headed, Zayne will tell him what to do.
A few years later, despite many ups and downs, both of you decided to adopt from the same island again. It was a year-old infant named Penelope who was handed to the orphanage due to the death of her mother.
Between the two of you, Zayne was the one who fell in love first. He never expected to be a girl dad, and he didn't think too much of it until he saw her in your arms. The first thing she did was grab his finger and giggle, looking so beautiful against the island's sunset.
When she grew a bit older, Zayne became fond of how she began to resemble you in terms of actions and personality. She was undoubtedly the type of kid to make a fuss about the little things and act cunningly to get her way and, at the same time, not cry over the things that made her sad or hurt her.
She was often seen with you and clinging to you if not Elias. With her, things were an unspoken competition between Elias and Zayne. He was her first in many things: first dance, first time riding a bike, and first parent to be called by her, except for the first kiss. Her first kiss was given to his older brother, and it was on the forehead. Zayne sulked for the rest of the day while your son held that against him, stating that his little sister loves him more than his dad.
Despite this, Zayne and Elias developed another thing, an unspoken urge to protect the little girl. It may not seem like it, but Elias always focuses on Penelope, ensuring she's doing alright in school and having fun. Zayne sometimes sneaks into the daycare to peek at her daughter's condition. On Zayne's day off, Elias would tell stories about what Penelope does on a day-to-day basis. Thanks to his son, he was well-versed in her daughter's life events despite working a lot in the Hospital.
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Xavier as a father:
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Xavier is a father to one male child.
It was an unplanned pregnancy, which you only realized when you had your Quarterly checkup at headquarters. The doctor ruled you unfit to work on the field because you were carrying a month-old baby. You gagged at the news, and on the same day, you told Xavier. He just stared at you and turned red.
Xavier was…enthusiastic(?) with your pregnancy. Despite being the type not to really change when you were pregnant, he was always on guard and on your beck and call, buying out whatever cravings you had, even at midnight or on a rainy day (He was the one having cravings; You settled with whatever food you had in the house.)
While you were at home resting with him, you observed his behavior change. He was more silent than usual, looking out of the window; when you asked, he told you that his having a child felt like a fever dream. Xavier was unprepared to be a father but willing to learn. His trove of light novels and comic books slowly began to be invaded by parent magazines and guidebooks on caring for an infant. If he has some day off, he will be by your side to help you do stuff around the house or attend parenting classes behind your back.
When you gave birth, even through the amniotic fluid and white stuff covering the child, you could easily see that he was a pure carbon copy of Xavier. There was no part of the little baby that resembled you at all. Both in physical appearance and in attitude. Xavier cried tears of joy upon seeing your child born, albeit he never showed anyone his crying face. You know he did because his eyes and nose were puffier than usual.
The baby was quiet; it coos, plays with its saliva, and asks for a lot of milk, but I rarely cry. The only time it cries is if a loud sound is disturbing it from sleeping. And even when he cries, gently tapping and lulling him within five minutes will stop the little guy from crying.
The baby was attached to him. The baby would unknowingly leer towards him whenever he was around, asking to be picked up, to which Xavier would happily do so. He was a sleepy child and liked to nap even in broad daylight. He was easily fed and didn't put up much of a fight, even in his older years.
At the age of three, it was the beginning period where his little meek personality began to change. The kid was adventurous and the curious type. He was often found in his own world observing the little things in life, like a trail of ants or a kitten atop a tree branch, yet it seemed like he was curious to learn more things. He liked to observe from up close, which is why he was often seen on tiptoes trying to look over a lot of stuff or squatting down to observe the smaller insects on the ground.
To help him foster his talents and strengths, Xavier brings him to the headquarters once a week to let him run around and train. You were against it initially, but seeing your little boy imitate his father with clumsy focus made your heart swoon. A few years later. The kid was in school; Xavier was the one who attended the boy's school activities as you had to work most of the time, leading a team of your own.
He was doing well compared to the average students in school. Still, the teacher complained that the little boy kept sleeping in class, often getting him scolded and demerit. Xavier scratched his head and apologized, saying the little boy must've been exhausted after midnight play-dates with him.
Xavier keeps physical albums in his home, one for the family, one for you and him, and one dedicated to your child's life. Much to your surprise, he was more hands-on with his child than you might expect. Xavier never lets you carry your son for too long; he's afraid that you would collapse from exhaustion. He'd also be the one to put him to sleep, almost always falling asleep with his own son.
He's not the type to gift his child physical things (he still does occasionally). He would prefer to take you guys out to different locations, like a new arcade, a new park, or a place where your son could explore freely and safely. Xavier adores his child and keeps a photo of him on his lock screen. On his desk is a family picture of you and him that you take every year.
Xavier was the favorite parent when the little boy grew up because he was calmer, more collected, and the cooler one between you two. It's not that you weren't, but you know how boys are. Xavier tells his son many stories that he passes off as "fairytales" when, in reality, it was actually his real adventures in the decades he has lived and worked. But his favorite ones were when he and you fought against the wanderers side to side.
Needless to say, Xavier was a role model and a doting father. Because his appearance never really changed, at some point in the far future, he would be mistaken as the little boy's twin brother instead. It became a running joke in your family, so much so that out of pity, your son decided to dye his hair a different color to make him distinguishable.
Xavier and your son continued to have a boss and subordinate relationship in the hunter's association, which a lot of people really admired. On the other hand, you ran the bigger team and were on the field most of the time. Memories of regular days are filled with seeing each other in the medical Bay, on the field, or in a restaurant after a long fight on the field.
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Rafayel as a father:
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Father to two girls.
Rafayel's baby was not planned. In fact, he never believed you were pregnant until he saw signs of your body changing, especially the morning sickness and cravings. It's not that he didn't want to be a father, but it was simply too sudden for him, and he couldn't absorb it well.
He went a little overboard in preparation, hoarding many little clothes that your child would definitely outgrow. He brags about your pregnancy to many people, saying he's excited to be a father and always wanted a family of his own. People congratulate you a lot, even if you don't know who they are. On random days, you keep getting mail for some reason, and it's oversized packages: bassinets, branded feeding bottles, bottle steamers, and a box full of infant diapers. Safe to say, you really didn't need to buy a lot of things for your little passenger.
Unlike you, who was pretty lenient in designing the bedroom for your daughter, he was nit-picky as hell. The interior designer and suppliers had a hard time dealing with your husband, and you could only apologize secretly on his behalf. Nonetheless, the room turned out to be more beautiful than you expected.
When the baby arrived, he was crying, but he denied it. Yet everyone in the room could see him cry like a diva. Everyone wanted to see the baby, and so did your friends. Still, to your surprise, Rafayel refrained from letting anyone visit you for fear of the infant contracting any diseases from the visitors.
You decided to name her Anastasia. He was undeniably meant to be a girl dad. There was no day in the week when the little baby was dressed poorly. She would always wear on-brand clothes; even simple pajamas cost more than they should. He bought her dolls, stuffed toys, and those big dollhouses collectors buy.
When the little baby girl grew up and began to attend school, Rafayel would always ask for a kiss on the cheek, which your daughter would happily give.
Rafayel likes to gossip with you and your daughter, and he is a good source of news because he always knows the juicier side of stories. With your daughter, he knows the reputation of each and every parent. Sometimes, they go too far and pick on your daughter's classmates, e.g., telling them that their clothes are old-fashioned or that one kid looks like a mean bully. The bad thing is, your daughter thinks so as well. You and Rafayel once went to her sports day competition and saw her play a three-legged race partnered with a boy. You could see the smoke coming out of Rafayel's head, and you had to cover his mouth because he was uttering profanities. Something like: "Get your hands off my daughter, you little…"
Raf likes to give gifts as a sign of affection, and your daughter is thankful, but on special days, she doesn't request anything. Instead, she insists on having a dad-daughter date instead. Thanks to those moments, Raf began to lean more towards spending time together rather than showering her with gifts.
She grew up replicating Rafayel's diva-ness as her form of humor, and she usually tries to get away with stuff using that method. But she was family-oriented, being the type to show affection outwardly. She most definitely became a daddy's girl and would always go to him for help.
Later on, when your first child reached her teen years, you decided to have another child, and this time, it was a girl whom you named Charlotte. Rafayel was more tamed with the room decoration this time, but not with the gifts and outfits. He didn't allow any secondhand items from Anastasia to be given to the younger one.
Rafayel, despite already being a seasoned dad, was more overprotective with his second daughter, hiring a nanny for her. He would be restless if he didn't manage to see her for two days, so he refrained from going out of town unless necessary. If he did, however, he would always call you and ask how Charlotte was doing. You would turn the phone to your daughter, but she wouldn't pay him any mind and continue coloring in her little notebook.
Unlike Anastasia, Charlotte preferred to be with you. She was the more reserved of the two siblings, but she was mature for her age. She knew what she wanted and would outwardly deny if whatever she was doing or receiving was not to her liking. She wasn't that dramatic and would just stare at her sister or father whenever they exaggerated their emotions in front of her.
Sometimes, you and Charlotte just like to watch your other daughter and your husband act all dramatic. Then you just brush them off and spend your day drinking tea and eating cupcakes.
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Sylus as a father
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Sylus is the father of twins. One boy, one girl.
You weren't married when you found out you were pregnant; you were his lover by then, but you were severely unprepared to have children, considering the environment you guys were in. You got married in secret, and he made a promise to protect you and your children despite living in the N109 zone.
Upon the birth of your children, he was mainly on edge. He got you the best doctors and midwives. Although your birth was surprisingly smooth sailing, you heard some stories from the nurses nearby about how Sylus was threatening a doctor if you ended up with complications. Thankfully, the twins were delivered safely.
Between the twins, the eldest is a girl you named Mauve, and the boy, Claude. Mauve had your eyes, but his hair color was daunting, and he had a more pale skin tone, while Claude resembled you more than Sylus, except for his eyes.
Sylus didn't care much for the children; he made that apparent by focusing more on you and his work and leaving the kids to the nanny. That quickly changed after six months. On a random day, he saw you tending to your children, both sleeping soundly in your arms. You seemed at peace inside the bedroom, looking out into the distance. Something switched inside of Sylus, which neither of you can point out, but there was one thing for sure: You guys were now a family.
The mindset change perplexed you the most because, beginning that day, Sylus made a quiet effort to learn how to take care of the twins. He was often seen with the nanny, asking for specific methods of washing the feeding bottles or bathing the twins. And in no less than a month, he was practically the one taking care of your children whenever he was at home.
Sylus doesn't spoil his children more than necessary. Sure, they had rooms of their own and a decent amount of toys, branded items, and clothes, but he only gave them a little more than necessary. He firmly believes that children should learn to work hard at an early age to not get disappointed in the future; you scolded him for that, though, after all, they were just children.
Sylus always plays with his children whenever he can. He doesn't like it when family time is interrupted by business, so he ensures no one disturbs the residence until you and the children have had enough fun. His play methods are surprisingly tame and even comedic; after all, the sight of Sylus dawning twin-tails and stickers on his face doesn't come by that often. On days when he's out of town, Luke and Kieran are the ones who play with the children, and not even they can withstand the dress-up and role-play.
Whenever things get complicated in the organization, or even a hint of danger lurks around the family, Sylus sends you and the children away to a residence under a different name. It was located on a more private island, which only his private jet could access. Then, he deals with the problem as swiftly as possible.
A few more years later, Sylus changed. His principle of hard work equals good rewards shifted, and he slowly began to spoil the twins. They were spoiled, but it was surprising that they were obedient. That is until you spied around them when you were supposed to be at work. It was thanks to this that you realized another thing: Sylus is the type of father who says, "I can't do anything, your mother said no. Sorry, kids." when you're around and "C'mon kids, who will scold you? Your mom is at work, and I'm the parent in charge!" when you're not.
Thanks to this, you also discovered the real nature of your children behind the nice, good children facade.
They were naughty: They liked to play pranks on your husband, but Sylus always outsmarts them. You constantly wondered where they were picking up these silly pranks until you saw them huddled together with Luke and Kieran in a random corner of the house.
The twins were cunning: They greeted guests with a smile and treated maids with care, but they sneaked around the staff room and reported to Sylus what they heard. Once, they broke a vase and convinced you that Mephisto did it.
They were eccentric: The smiles on their faces were business smiles whenever other people were around. Note they were smiling ear to ear, but their smile was unsettling once you realized that you had entered the house of Onichynus' leader. It was almost threatening even.
Sylus, despite not looking like it, valued education as he believed it could give his children an advantage. Still, he'd let his children be street-smart rather than book-smart. Because of this belief, he would bring his children around for business meetings and less dangerous missions. You once argued with him over the twins' safety. Still, they reassured you that they're more than capable of protecting themselves.
A few years later, into adulthood, Claude was quietly regarded as a lethal weapon due to his proficiency in engineering (nuclear & Chemical) and in statistics; His background and frightening loyalty to his father and Onychinus amplified the organization's fearsome reputation.
On the other hand, Mauve was the front of Onychinus, often leaving the country to make business deals on behalf of his father, who was busy working at home. The woman was responsible. She was undoubtedly a gambler who believed high stakes = high rewards, yet she had never once lost that gamble.
But when you and your family get together for dinner every week, it's like they're the most mundane family ever, talking about what they hear out on the street and what the new neighbors are up to or what new places to visit in Linkon City. You just…came to accept it.
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Author's footnotes: Alright this post is too long for my own liking but it would be longer if I go in depth about your family details. and at this point, this is like an AU... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
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jeonstudios · 5 months ago
Text
dextrocardia | 13
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Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.
"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."
"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.
Spouses.
pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader
genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)
word count: 6k
warnings: descriptions of and talk about sa!!
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 13/? 
<previous | next>
© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
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It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.
“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.
He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.
“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.
“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”
He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”
You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.
“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.
Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.
“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.
“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.
You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.
“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”
You turn your head to look at his grinning face.
“Uh... no.”
“What, you don��t trust me?”
You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.
“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.
His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”
It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”
Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”
“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”
“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”
“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”
“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.
“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”
“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”
You wonder to yourself how true that really is.
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You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.
Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.
“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”
You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.
You hesitate.
“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”
He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.
“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”
Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.
It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.
“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.
“Yeah.”
“Why did you keep it?”
He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”
“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.
Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”
“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”
“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.
“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”
Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.
“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”
It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.
You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.
“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”
“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”
“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”
Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 
Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.
“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”
You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.
“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”
It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.
“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”
You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.
“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 
Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.
“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.
“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.
“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.
“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.
You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 
“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”
You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”
You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.
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“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”
The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.
“Then why are you always awake so early?”
He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”
“Okay…”
Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.
Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”
“No,” he yawns. 
“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”
“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.
“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.
He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”
You nod enthusiastically
“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”
Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.
His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…
“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”
Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 
“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?
Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?
You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.
His phone rings.
Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”
He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.
Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…
Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.
He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”
You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 
Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.
His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”
You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.
He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.
You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.
It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.
“Thank you.”
He blinks, looking happy but surprised.
“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.
“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”
You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.
“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”
You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?
“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”
He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.
“What the…”
But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.
He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.
“You don’t need to thank me for that.”
And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.
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The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.
While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.
Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 
Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 
This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 
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Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.
With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.
He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.
“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”
You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.
“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.
He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”
“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”
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After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?
You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.
Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”
You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.
Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.
Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 
“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.
“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.
“Yeah?”
“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”
Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?
“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”
He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”
“Fine.”
Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.
“No?”
“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”
You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”
“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”
You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.
“Uh, he hit on me.”
“Did you say you were married?”
You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”
“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”
“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”
“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”
“Yeah…”
“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”
That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.
“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”
He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”
“It’s fine…”
“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.
“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”
“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”
You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”
“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 
You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 
You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.
“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”
“Yeah.”
“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”
“You shouldn’t give up hope.”
“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”
“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”
There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.
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After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.
As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”
You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’
He shrugs, “I like having you close.”
For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.
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<previous | next>
author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol
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de4dlyniightshade · 1 year ago
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munch! spencer, reader with migraine, spencer reads something about how orgasms can help with pain
꩜ warning!: this post is +18!!! mdni!
꩜ word count: 1.6k (got a little carried away;-;)
꩜ A/N: honestly i don't rlly like this but hopefully it's good enough :,)
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You let out a quiet groan in pain as you squinted your eyes at the tv, trying to watch your favourite show but the light from the screen only made your throbbing headache worse, to the point it was almost unbearable.
"Another migraine?" Spencer asked quietly from the other end of the sofa as he looked up from his book, keeping his voice low so as to not make it any worse. You just nodded, holding your head in your hand and letting your eyes close, feeling slight relief from the light no longer beaming into your eyes.
You didn't get migraines all that often but when you did they could be pretty bad and Spencer hated seeing you in pain and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it even more, or so he thought. He'd spent hours researching ways to alleviate your pain after your last migraine, which got so bad that it practically debilitated you and you couldn't do anything but sit in a darkened room for hours until it passed.
After reading countless articles and blogs a unanimous opinion was that an orgasm relieves a large amount of the pain, one woman going as far to say that hers was completely gone afterwards. Honestly the remedy was a complete win-win, he'd be able to help you and make you feel better and he'd also get to do his absolute favourite thing at the same time, which just so happened to be eating you out.
"Do you want me to help?" Spencer suggested, laying his book down on your coffee table and turning to face you, a slightly excited feeling bubbling in his chest.
"Remember nothing worked last time, Spence" you murmured, sighing at the realisation that you'd probably end up back in your bedroom, cocooned under blankets for your unforeseeable future. You felt Spencer shift closer to you and you could practically feel the excitement radiating from him, knowing that meant he'd found some scientific way to help you and wanted to try it.
"I researched a lot about migraines and how to help you since the last one and the method that came up almost every time was that a sexual release would alleviate a large amount of the pain and i was thinking maybe..." he didn't even have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking, as soon as he uttered the word "sexual" you knew what he had in mind.
"You seriously think it'll work?" Your tone was hopeful and you were prepared to try anything at this point, feeling your pain slowly worsen the more time went on. you'd tried almost every other remedy you'd been suggested by friends and nothing had worked even a little and painkillers did nothing for you no matter how many you took.
"It's worth a try," Spencer smiled, resting his hand on your lower back. you knew he wasn't just doing this for himself, it was just convenient that he loved nothing more than to be buried between your legs.
"Alright, but if this doesn't work I'm not gonna be happy" you were only half serious, you were happy to let Spencer run his little experiment, considering that if it did work, you'd both not have a migraine anymore and would have had an incredible orgasm, so either way, you got something out of the experience.
You watched as Spencer moved to turn off the TV, leaving just a lamp on so that it was light enough that he could still see but dark enough that it wouldn't hurt your head so much.
You quickly hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pants, lifting your hips to tug them down over your ass and slide them down your legs, kicking them to the side to deal with later as Spencer moved to eagerly kneel in front of you, placing his hands behind your knees and leaning down to press a chaste kiss just above your left knee.
You smiled as you slowly spread your legs apart, watching Spencer's eyes glint with anticipation. You already knew the drill—moving to place your legs over his shoulders the way he liked it and shifting forward on the sofa to give him better access.
Spencer didn't waste any time with teasing, reminding himself that this wasn't for him, no matter how much he enjoyed it; this was an attempt to alleviate your pain.
You let out a sigh as you felt his warm tongue lick a bold stripe up your folds before he circled your clit, moaning quietly at your taste that he'd grown to love so much.
You tangled your fingers in his hair as he buried his face deeper into you, urging your thighs apart to lap at your pussy, your quiet whines and moans egging him on as he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub, the stimulation making you twitch and grip his hair tighter, rolling your hips into his face as you let your head fall back against the couch.
Spencer wrapped his hands around your thighs as he nuzzled his face into you, making sure to get as close as possible to you so that he could dip his tongue into your entrance. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing into you causing you to arch your back, a loud gasp falling from your lips, your migraine long forgotten.
"F-fuck spence," you whined as you tugged on his hair desperately, letting yourself grind into his mouth. Spencer continued his ministrations on your sensitive cunt, drinking in everything you had to give him with pleasure as he whined into your wantonly.
You felt Spencer push one of your legs to the side, and instantly you got the message, lifting your leg to sling it over the arm of the couch to give him access. You couldn't help but gasp when you felt his middle and index fingers prod at your entrance, teasing your hole briefly before he began slowly sliding them in. The copious amount of saliva and your arousal making it easy.
"Oh, f-fuck!" you moaned out as you felt his fingertips curl right into your g-spot, the mixture of his mouth on your clit and his fingers pressing right into that spot that made your toes curl, making your mind go completely blank as you whimpered and moaned, his name falling from your lips in breathy gasps.
Spencer began massaging his fingers into your g-spot, drawing needy moans from your lips as he brought you closer to your release, revelling in the way you moaned his name and the way that your walls clenched around his fingers.
You got completely lost in the pleasure as you rutted your hips into his face, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face into you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten as you squirmed and shuddered, the feeling of Spencer's fingers nonstop stimulating your sensitive spot making you a needy mess.
"C-close! 'm close, Spence." Your voice was high-pitched and whiny as you warned him, Spencer only pushing his fingers harder into you, the action pulling a loud moan from your throat as your body began to shake and tremble.
You couldn't help but sling your leg back over Spencer's shoulder, letting your thighs clench around his head as you felt your orgasm approaching. Spencer's tongue never letting up his brutal sucking and licking on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body.
Spencer began moaning and whining into you, the sounds sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt and making you cry out in pleasure as your breath came out in gasps and huffs, your whole body tending as you felt your release dangerously close.
"G-god spence, I'm gonna c-cum!" You practically wailed with no regard for how loud you were being, letting out a constant slew of desperate noises when Spencer massaged your soft spot more precisely, coaxing you to your release as he sucked harshly on your clit.
Spencer let out an especially loud moan as you tugged on his hair, the intense vibrations sending you over the edge as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your whole body shaking and writhing as your release gushed around Spencer's fingers that continued to curl into you, coaxing you through your orgasm while he gently licked at your clit.
You were breathing heavily and still shaking slightly when Spencer slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, wincing slightly as his skin dragged against your sensitive walls. You watched as he buried his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off your release like he always did, sighing at the taste before he pulled them out and leaned back in, dipping his tongue into your slit to lap up everything he could, not daring to waste any of it.
Spencer leaned his cheek on your knee when he was satisfied, looking up at you through his lashes as you lay completely fucked out with your eyes closed, a beautifully content expression on your face.
"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, watching as you cracked your eyes open and furrowed your brows, scanning around the room and sitting up slightly, a smile spreading across your lips as you looked back down at him.
"I feel...great?!" You laughed slightly, completely fascinated by the effectiveness but also relieved that you'd found something that worked, both for you and for him. Spencer couldn't hide the wide smile that adorned his lips. He was overjoyed that his method worked as he pressed gentle kisses up your leg before he situated himself beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and sighing.
"i'm glad" 
(dookie ass ending again ik</3 i need to work on that :,)
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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago
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nagi has beef with any of your pets cuz why do they get to lay around all day but he doesn’t :(
*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— feline foe + seishiro nagi.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — strangers to enemies except it’s nagi and your pet cat.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, semi-smutty, mentions of sex, suggestive towards the end, dry humping, owning a cat lol, the cat walks in on you, established relationship, pro player!nagi, fem!reader - not beta read !
⭑ words — 2K.
⭑ notes — thank u lambie for sending me this ! i thought it was too cute an idea not to write! also i queued this to post on nagi’s bday so happy bday to my bf <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩
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it might sound vain, but nagi was sure that before it arrived, he was the centre of your universe.
he had all of your attention, always. you went out of your way to bring him lunches at the stadium during practices and helped him drink water or energy drinks on the pitch at his games because you liked to believe that it would bring him good luck and he let you. his teammates heave with jealousy each and every time.
when your days were done, you’d let nagi settle his head in your lap while you brush back his hair and scratch at his scalp — letting him game to his heart's content in your company. nagi might have been pampered too and much to the point where he expected to have all of your attention… so he doesn’t quite understand why all of it shifts to a brand new presence in your lives. 
your cat. 
miruku. milk.
it’s a ridiculous name for an animal, nagi thinks, it’s a pest. annoying. but he couldn’t say no to you when you’d brought the stray cream-coloured kitty home, soaked in rain from where you’d chased it around his apartment complex trying to bring it inside. if he said no to you, that would’ve been another issue in itself — and nagi hated when you fought. it was bothersome having you play silent treatment.
so you keep it, the kitten, and everything changes for seishiro nagi. for the worst.
miruku can do everything nagi isn’t allowed to nd gets away with it as well. he raids the fridge if you leave it open, doesn’t have to pay to replenish it because of course cats don’t have income. he wakes you up at ungodly hours for playtime which usually consists of you sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking around a ball of yarn for the kitty to play with. it’s irritating for nagi, having your warmth stolen away from him and pulling him out of the depths of slumber by your lack of presence— all because the stupid cat wants to play ball and you just can’t seem to say no to it. 
the feline that’s suspiciously close to looking like your boyfriend if he were to be an animal is also allowed to sleep in. miruku naps where he pleases, in the linen closet, the corner of the kitchen where the water pipes run hot, on top of the drier and especially by the front door where he trips up nagi on the way in from practices. it’s like the cat is purposely trying to make the pro-player’s life even more difficult than it’s meant to be and you find it’s every single movement adorable. 
the worst place miruku could possibly nap is seishiro’s favourite spot— on your chest. nuzzled against your boobs on a warm sunday afternoon where your boyfriend should be, where your boyfriend should be making you giggle by sucking hickies into your neck while he thumbs at the skin underneath your breasts. he should be suckling on the sweet expanse of your skin lazily, working you up just enough to offer yourself up to appease seishiro’s insatiable appetite.
and its so sick that he can’t because of your pampered little pet. you’d just brush him off and tell him ‘you’ll get your turn later, sei,’ which makes nagi hate that stupid fucking cat even more than anything.
you don’t ever let seishiro sleep in these days, ripping the blankets from his tall frame every morning with a slice of toast hanging from between your pretty lips as you say. “get up sei, wake up for me, baby.” you coo sweetly, briefly letting go of your breakfast to kiss his forehead before you rush out of the door. “i won’t be happy if isagi or reo have to wake you up for practice. ‘kay?”
“mmm…lil’ longer. please angel.” he groans but you weave your fingers through his snow white locks to scratch at his scalp before you tug on them slightly. 
“up. seishiro nagi. i’ll see you later!” the tone you use is warning, and prompts nagi to shift int he sheets to get out of bed. 
he huffs, stretching his limbs a little too similarly to your kitty companion before the realisation hits— miruku is laying in your spot, comfy and cosy. sleeping. and it only pisses him off more. that should be him.
“you’re a pain.” seishiro narrows his eyes at the snoozing feline, scratching it under the chin and the twitch of miruku’s ears tells him that he’s been acknowledged as a rival. 
so be it. 
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“how come this cat gets away with everythin’ ‘nd i don’t?”
nagi whines into your neck, watching with darkened and narrowed eyes as his feline opponent hops up onto the couch to join you both in your late night cuddle session. miruku makes his presence known, pushing his head under your chin affectionately and clawing at the fluffy blanket draped over you and your boyfriend. you obviously find it adorable, your hands slipping from seishiro’s soft white hair to tickle just behind your pet’s ear— completely discarding the man tucked into your side. 
“what are you talking about, sei?” you mumble absentmindedly — missing the way the striker squirms in his seat and squeezes you close by the waist, as if to pull you away from the offending kitty.
seishiro grumbles out a response. “he gets to sleep in, but when i do it, it’s a bother. same for when he gets in the fridge too, and when i nap on top of you—“
“stop complaining about him, sei. miruku is just a baby!” you scold your boyfriend, hugging your kitten to your chest, cooing down at him as if he really is a baby. nagi seethes from beside you, that should be him in your arms and not some cat-like freeloader from the streets. miruku blinks up at the white-haired pro player slowly, his mouth opening in a petty meow that almost makes nagi hiss back in response. 
“i’m supposed to be your baby.”
“and you are! but you’re just a little more self-sufficient than my precious lil’ kitty— he needs me to take care of him.” 
“why don’t you just take care of me? cats are s’pposed to be independent,” seishiro nuzzles into your neck, his lips still pouty against your skin and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t overwhelmed with affection for your two boys. “‘n looking after the two of us must be a drag…” 
rolling your eyes, you turn your head to capture nagi in a surprise chaste kiss just to sate him— brushing your lips over his delicately. “i do take care of you, seishiro. some might say you’re a little spoilt with how much i do,” smiling into the kiss, you scratch your nails through his scalp in the way that he likes, a lot similar to your feline friend before jumping up from the couch with a clap of your hands. “now which one of my boys is hungry?”
miruku is promptly shooed to the floor beside a frustrated nagi left without your warmth. the pair share a brief moment of eye contact as your boyfriend runs a hand over his face in annoyance. 
“i hate you.”
“meow.”
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the final straw for nagi is the night your cat makes it into the bedroom while you’re having sex. 
he’s pent up, training has been more intensive than usual and all he wants to do is come home and lose himself in you. you let him, falling into the sheets with seishiro nagi, your hands lost in his sea of perfectly soft white hair, your mouth on his, your legs wrapped around the small of his waist as he sinks into you for the first time in a long time. you share a moan, muffled by nagi’s tongue working it’s way down your throat and his entire body weight thrown over you. 
somehow he manages to tear through your clothes, tongue hungrily lapping over your pert nipples while you tug his aching cock free from the confines of his shorts. tears sting at your waterline as nagi presses into your cunt without much prep. he’s so big, you feel as though he might already be kissing your cervix without even moving and you tug hard on his hair at the feeling of nagi twitching within your walls.
“s-sei, god. fill me up s’good—!”
he cuts you off with a throaty moan, eyes rolling back as he gives an experimental thrust. “s’no fair…s’pretty. so tight around me, fuck, angel…”
the moment is perfect, he’s dizzy with love and desire and all caught up in the heat it all… that is until your stupid fucking cat starts screaming bloody murder from outside your locked door. 
“leave it,” seishiro grunts, pawing at your sides and languidly rolling his hips into yours. “s’probably nothin’, angel.” 
you gasp and nod, delirious with ecstasy and pull him closer but miruku seems to whine again— scratching pathetically at the door. “sei, what if—?” 
“he’s fine, jus’ focus on me, pretty thing.” and for the most part you try, you let nagi have his way with you— let him pin you to the bed and make you see galaxies and you’re both about to burst when he swears to the fucking stars he feels that cat’s paw between his balls. 
he doesn’t remember what happens next, just that he sees red or turns it and you are equally as embarrassed— shuffling out of the room to deal with your pesky cat, draped in one of sei’s spare hoodies. 
that’s when nagi decides he’s had enough. 
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his final plan isn’t to get rid of miruku but instead to steal your attention away from the dumb animal. 
nagi puts a little more effort into cleaning up himself and the house for you once he gets back from practice at blue lock ( after multiple face times to barou and isagi, reo and others ). he stops by a flower shop and puts together an arrangement that he thinks you’ll like because the colours remind him so much of you. 
when you come home, your eyes light up at the bouquet on your sparkling countertops and the sight of your boyfriend lounging around in your kitchen on his phone. “baby, did you get these for me?” you swoon. 
“yeah. on the way back from practice i went to that flower shop you always talk about.”
“sei, that’s not even on the way home,” you smile and his heart flutters in his chest. “you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”
nagi bristles with happiness as you make your way into his arms of your own accord and hide your face in his toned chest. “i’d do anything for you, angel,” he mumbled into your hairline and uses a finger to tilt your head up for a gentle kiss, quickly distracting you from miruku who’s jumped up onto the counter. “missed you, s’much.” he knows exactly what he’s doing when he presses his cock between your thighs, dropping his lips to your neck wetly. 
“m-missed you too, sei but…gotta feed the cat…” 
your kitten purrs at your side but seishiro rolls you over, nailing your hips down to the countertops and grinds into you feverishly. his plan is working. 
“no buts, need you. god… s’not fair bein’ away from you f’so long. baby…fuck.” he’s whiny and needy, grabbing handfuls of your ass to slide you back and forth on his growing erection so that you become putty in his hands. you’re so lightheaded that you don’t even hear your cat meowing for your attention— clinging onto nagi’s broad shoulders for dear life. “unless you want me to stop?”
you blink up at your boyfriend, teary eyed and ravenous— for once not reaching out instinctively to pet miruku but instead reaching up to tug on seishiro’s soft snowball locks and bring him down to your height. “i don’t want you to stop, seishiro,” you growl, your voice dipping into sensual and sultry territory. “i want you to fuck me.” 
“can do, angel.” he coos, letting you drag him by the hand towards your shared bedroom.
nagi throws a smug look over his shoulder at your unhappy cat, grinning from ear to ear as miruku hisses at him in defeat.
nagi: 1 - miruku: 0
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wosoamazing · 4 months ago
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A Painful First
Part 1 | Beneath the Surface
Warnings: First Period, Endometriosis, Bleeding Through, Mentions of Nausea, Pain
Notes: This is Part 1 to my new mini series Beneath the Surface, honestly kind of nervous about posting this but anyway here it is. I don't know how good this part is but it is more for setting the scene etc. I am currently in the process of writing the next parts, but I feel like they are much better. Hopefully I got everything pretty accurate, let me know what you think x
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You were a Foord, your Mum was Maddie Foord, one of the physios for the Matildas and Arsenal. She was engaged to Leah, who you now lived with, and Leah was almost like your second Mum, you just hadn’t spent much time with her, between her busy schedule and your school and swimming there wasn’t much time spare for you two to spend bonding, meaning when you found out that Leah wasn’t going on international break because of her hamstring and that you could decide between staying or going to Australia, you decided to stay in London so you could get to know her better, Caitlin was sad that you weren't coming on camp and she told you she would miss you so much, but she understood your choice.
Staying in London also meant you could continue your rigorous swim training schedule which with the Aquatics GB Champs coming up in a few months was important to you.
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You had a cramping pain before you fell asleep that night however you didn't think much of it, you had been having these random cramping pains often for the past few months, so you just ignored it as usual and fell asleep after messaging your Mum good night.
A few hours later you awoke to a stabbing pain in your abdomen, you brought your knees to your chest in hopes of easing the pain, the action causing you to notice a weird stickiness between your legs, you quickly stood up and noticed a patch of blood on your sheets, and a wave of panic ran through you, this wasn’t meant to happen this way, and your Mum wasn’t here, you didn’t want Leah to find out, you quickly made your way into the bathroom and called your Mum.
-
“Mum,” you said nervously through the phone as she picked up.
“What’s wrong bubs?”
“I um, it-” you puffed out.
“Bubs, take a breath for me and then try again,”
“I um, I think I started my period and I bleed on the sheets and I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to wake Leah up and I don’t want her to see the blood on the sheets and-”
“Bubs, it’s okay Leah isn’t going to judge you, she loves you just as much as I do, I’m sorry I’m not there right now but I promise you Leah will take very good care of you,” Your Mum told you, as she sent Leah a message.
“How am I meant to tell her though? I-, It’s gross and embarrassing,” unbeknownst to you Leah was currently in your room stripping your sheets and putting fresh ones on your bed, she was not disgusted at all and if anything felt slightly bad for you knowing how you would prefer your Mum to be there over her.
“Bubs, it happens to everyone, it’s okay, it's not your fault, how do you feel though? Like physically?”
“Okay, it doesn’t hurt that much,” that was a complete lie, your back ached, your stomach felt like someone was sitting on it whilst you were being stabbed and you felt sick, but she was all the way in Australia, you didn’t want to worry her, and every girl got periods, you were probably just over reacting. You heard a soft knock at your bathroom door and knew exactly who it was.
“Bubs, that will be Leah and I’m sorry but I really have to go now, let Leah in, she will help you, and I promise I’ll call you later,”
“Okay, love you,” you said before hanging up and opening the door to Leah, immediately looking down at your feet.
“Hey, there is no need to be embarrassed, it’s okay, it happens to everyone, it happens to me more than I’d like to admit,” Leah tried reassuring you, you just nodded nervously.
“I got you this, it’s going to be bigger than most, but it’s all we have, and none of the shops are open currently so I can’t go out and get some for you. But it’s okay, because tomorrow morning the first thing I’ll do is go to the shops and buy you some supplies, and then if you like we could spend the day watching movies together and just relaxing,” you nodded shyly at Leah before she continued, “Have a shower, get cleaned up, and call out for me if you need anything, I’ve changed the sheets on your bed but if you would prefer you are more than welcome to come into our bed and sleep in there with me if you want,” you nodded again before Leah left the bathroom giving you the privacy to do what you needed to do.
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“Le, is it meant to hurt this bad?” You asked the blonde as you walked towards where she sat on the couch, having returned from the bathroom, tears pricking in your eyes, this was your second day of having your period and you hated how you couldn’t do anything because of the pain. Just as you took another step towards the couch a sharp pain shot down your back and you grabbed onto the back of the couch for support, before a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Leah was quickly up and on her feet, wrapping her arms around you to support you before gently and slowly guiding you to the spot on the couch where the both of you were sitting just before, she sat down before allowing you to make yourself comfortable.
“You good?” Leah asked as you finally settled, hoping you found a comfortable position, which you had sort of done so. You were curled up into a ball as you rested against Leah’s side, your head on her shoulder as her arm now wrapped around your back. She used her other hand to wipe away your tears that had fallen before she let out a slight sigh.
“To answer your question, no, it shouldn’t hurt this bad. There is actually something your Mum and I think we should talk about, and we thought having the conversation with just me might make you more comfortable, but I want you to know before I start that if you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop at any time just say so and I will, and if you have a question at any stage just interrupted me okay. What you’re experiencing currently isn’t normal and you shouldn’t be in this much pain, it could just be a bad period however it may also be something else, your Mum and I were talking and we think you could possibly have endometriosis, it’s what I have and a lot of your symptoms are similar to mine,”
“But you’re not couch ridden on your period,” you commented, causing Leah to have to stifle a laugh.
“I’m not normally no, but there are sometimes when I can’t do anything and I’ve known about it now for a little while so I know what helps me and I’ve got medication to help too. But do you know what endometriosis is?”
“Not really,” you said embarrassed.
“That’s okay, it's nothing to be ashamed about, not many people do, but it’s when the lining of your uterus grows outside of your uterus too, like on your ovaries and your fallopian tubes and if it’s really bad it can grow on some of your other organs and your pelvis too. I don’t want you to worry too much though because it could just be a bad period but at the same time I do want you to know that you shouldn’t have this much pain with a normal period, but we will keep an eye on your symptoms for the next few months and decided where we go from there, okay?” you nodded in agreement, the pain slowly over taking you yet again this side nausea came alongside it. 
“Can you come to the bathroom with me? I feel sick, and I don’t want to be alone and-” “Of course, do you want to go into mine and your Mum’s? It’s a bit bigger and then whenever you want we can get into our bed, might be more comfortable,” Leah offered reassuringly before you let out a small ‘okay’.
____
“Why can’t it just be normal? I just want to be able to swim, and do the things I normally do, like even just getting a cup of water would be nice” you cried, you had moved from the bathroom to your Mum’s and Leah’s bed a while ago, having curled into Leah’s side, resting your head on her chest.
“I know bubs, it’s no fun at all, but I promise you that I will get you help if it continues like this. The heat pad should help soon and then you might be able to get some sleep.” Leah tried reassuring you as she ran her fingers through your hair.
“Don’t go,” you mumbled quietly as sleep finally began to take over, your body absolutely exhausted from the pain.
“I’m not going to go anywhere bubs, I’m staying right here with you,”
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lipringlrh · 1 year ago
Text
give you a show | LN4
summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare
pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader
an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)
word count: 800
warnings: none i don’t think
feedback and reblogs appreciated !!
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You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.
You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.
"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.
You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.
You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.
A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.
You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.
"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.
You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.
His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."
You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.
He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.
"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.
"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.
He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.
"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.
"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.
"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.
"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.
He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.
"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.
In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."
feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)
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chilling-seavey · 3 months ago
Note
I apologize for this but it has been my brain-rot. You know those scenes in movies where the wife is in bed and reading a book while wearing silk pajamas and their husband comes in the bedroom, freshly showered with the wet water dripping down their hair and only wearing sweatpants, which really turns on the wife. I get that vibes in The Way It Goes, especially after your son is put to bed for the night
↳ A/N No apology needed whatsoever, anon!! I am always so willing to hear your brain rot and the fun creative things it may inspire...like this!! Also, thank you to @sadiethekoala for helping me pick this idea as my next blurb to write out of my few I have planned :)
↳ Pairings: Husband!George Russell x Fem!Wife!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 1.5k
↳ Warnings: Unedited. George gets silently stared at with slightly lustful undertones? Brief mentions of post-partum body changes. 
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You once remembered a time where sunset in Monaco meant the night was only just beginning. Back in those days where your responsibilities finished with the end of a work day, life felt free and limitless. When George would be home for days between race weekends and you’d spend hours out on the harbour until your only company was the stars or the odd night out at some of the higher end clubs that made up the roaring nightlife of the Principality. 
Now, barely two years later, and life looked a lot different. It was different in a sense where you felt yourself growing up and maturing; taking on responsibilities that stretched far past the confines of a 9-5. You were starting to find the beauty in that, the appreciation for those quiet nights-in and the comfort that stability and routine provided. You found yourself blossoming in motherhood more than you had ever anticipated. 
It was hard to believe it had been just over a year since your son was born; that sweet blue eyed boy sleeping so soundly in the adjacent room. You could hear his faint breaths through the baby monitor on your bedside table, the red power light blinking slowly at you under the warm illumination of your table lamp. It was a reassuring rhythm that kept a fond smile ghosting over your face even as you were focused on the novel in your hands. The most beautiful boy with the most beautiful breaths. Ridiculous to those who had never experienced parenthood, but entirely true. 
Your page fluttered as you turned to the next one, careful eyes skimming the words in the calmness of your quaint apartment. Flattened moving boxes were resting against the white paneled wall by the closed door of your bedroom, a few more scattered throughout the place in various rooms, still yet to be assembled and packed. With your little boy growing up and you and George already in agreement that more little ones would be following him in the future, it was only a matter of time before you moved onto bigger and better things. 
But, for now, Monaco was still home and that little apartment you and George picked out together back when you were engaged was still your own corner of the world. 
The sound of the shower turning off from the ensuite piqued your attention but not enough to tear your eyes away from your book in hand. The comfort of your freshly washed sheets you were snuggled under and the plethora of down-filled pillows you were propped up against kept you perfectly content where you were. You turned another page. Your son slept soundly. 
Soon, the bathroom door opened and out poured a cloud of warm damp air and, with it, your husband. George traipsed out, barefoot, donning only a pair of sweatpants that hung low and haphazard on his hips. He ruffled his towel through his damp hair, bare torso still flushed from the heat of his shower, a few missed droplets of water left unnoticed and glistening across his collarbones.
You looked up from your book, shamelessly letting your eyes wander his entrancing figure and following that fair strip of hair from his navel into the waistband of his sweats. George - either ignorant to your staring or so familiar with it that he didn’t bat an eye - made his way over to the closet and pulled open the doors to rifle through the drawers. 
When he found what he was looking for, he shut the closet and turned back to you, holding up a pair of briefs, announcing with an amused tone, “Forgot something important.”
You snickered softly with a shake of your head, looking back down to your book, “They’re not that important.”
George moved around the bed again and knelt on his empty side to lean over towards you, his damp towel in one hand and his underwear in the other. You glanced up when he got into your vicinity and you effortlessly accepted his sweet kiss. 
“How was your shower?” you asked with a calm smile as he pushed himself off the bed and headed back into the ensuite. 
“Wet.” he answered cheekily from around the corner. 
“Lonely?” you teased, a playful lilt in your voice.
He reappeared in the doorway, a sly smile tugging at his lips, now with the band of his underwear peeking out just above the waistband of his sweats. He was casually applying moisturizer to his face, his eyes glinting with amusement as he replied, “Incredibly.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” you crooned. 
“Yeah, well,” George chuckled as he shrugged and disappeared back into the ensuite.
You looked back at your book although your mind was straying so you couldn’t quite process any of the words you were trying to read. 
You glanced back in the direction of the ensuite and called out to him, “Did you manage to get that workout you wanted to do done today?”
George appeared in the doorway again, toothbrush in his mouth. His nose scrunched a little, eyebrows furrowed, and he lifted a hand to tilt it back and forth to mime a response indicating ‘sort of’. 
“Why sort of? Aleix wasn’t free?”
He shook his head but then shrugged as if to say ‘oh well’. 
“Tomorrow?”
He gave you a thumbs up. 
“Confirmed?”
A nod. 
“Your usual time?”
He shook his head and balanced his toothbrush in his mouth to show off ten fingers before returning to his teeth brushing. 
“Okay, ten is fine.” you looked back to your book. 
George disappeared back into the ensuite. You heard the faucet turn on. 
He soon returned, flicking off the bathroom light before climbing onto the bed with you, “I meant to check with you before I confirmed with him, sorry.”
“All good.” you held up your arm to welcome him closer. “You can do your workout whenever you please.”
He draped himself across the bed on top of the duvet, resting his arm over your lap and propping his chin in his hand as he gazed up at you. You paused, your book still clutched in one hand, but a single glance at his face had you setting it aside, bookmarking the pages to give him your full attention.
His hair was still damp from the shower, and as you ran your fingers through it, you felt the faint stickiness of his styling lotion. Your touch had him sighing contentedly, his long lashes fluttering for a moment. With a playful gesture, George extended his finger to lightly brush across the front of your silk pyjama shirt, gently hooking his pinky around one of the buttons. 
He offered a soft mumble, “This is nice. Is this new?”
“It’s only from Christmas. I just haven’t gotten around to wearing it yet.”
George hummed in acknowledgement, his fingers slipping under the fabric to rest innocently against the warmth of your stomach. You were still carrying a bit of that extra skin around your middle that your pregnancy left behind, but George was always a fan of the physical memories of the strength and miracle of your body. His thumb brushed over it and he let out another small sigh.
You shifted in place to get a bit cozier under the blankets and George took your lead to join you, settling into his side of the bed. The room was bathed in only the light of your single bedside lamp, the curtains long since closed to block out the speckles of light from the Monte Carlo nightlife surrounding your corner of solitude. Together, you adjusted your pillows and tossed the extra ones to the floor before naturally finding your way into each other’s arms. 
“Can’t believe what a year it’s been and it’s only the end of March.” you thought aloud as you settled at his side. 
“Mm.” George agreed faintly, snaking an arm around your waist and needily pulling you closer under the sheets. 
You continued, “Our baby turned one…you’re a close second in the Driver’s Championship…”
He tutted and replied modestly, “It’s only two months into the season.”
“Plenty of time to surpass Lando.”
George only chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. 
Romance not lost after a few years of marriage and a kid, you straightforwardly asked, “Wanna make out until we fall asleep?”
George smiled against your cheek, “Absolutely.”
The duvet rustled around you both as you shifted into a more comfortable position, laying facing each other, arms lazily draped around bodies and under necks, tangled in sheets and each other. 
You once remembered a time where your nights together were full of passion; uncomfortable and lust-stemmed sex in club bathrooms or on the sand of the harbour beach after dark. Risky and carefree and limitless. Now, a little bit older but even more in love than you had been back then, all you really needed to satisfy your nights was the embrace of each other and lazy kisses in the security of your shared home.
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fartfather · 8 months ago
Text
Audience of One pt.3
Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Word count: 6.5k
Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.
pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy
pt.1 pt.2 pt.4
˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐
Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ
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Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.
You looked so peaceful.
So angelic.
He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.
His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.
He could get used to this.
"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.
Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"
Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.
"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.
"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."
"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'
Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.
Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.
Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.
The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.
Something genuine.
And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.
Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."
"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.
With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.
Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.
Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.
You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.
You didn't want this moment to end.
Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.
"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”
The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.
You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.
Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.
You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.
Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.
“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.
"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.
"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.
"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.
"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.
God, his man was truly a treasure.
Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.
Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.
"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.
Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.
"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.
You blinked.
Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.
"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."
You stared at him.
Your brain was blank.
You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.
"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."
"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.
Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"
You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.
"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"
"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.
Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.
Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.
Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.
"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.
"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"
Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.
Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?
And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.
The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.
Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.
"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.
"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"
Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.
That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.
"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”
Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"
Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.
Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.
You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.
Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.
"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."
A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.
"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.
You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"
"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.
"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."
Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.
He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."
The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.
And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."
Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.
"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.
And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.
Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.
The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.
"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.
A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.
Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.
"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."
His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.
"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.
They both let out satisfied hums.
Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."
Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.
You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.
"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.
Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.
"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"
Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.
You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.
Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.
Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.
Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.
Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.
"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"
You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.
Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."
Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"
The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.
"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.
His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.
A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.
You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.
"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"
His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.
Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.
"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."
The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.
You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.
"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."
You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.
Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.
To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.
"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.
You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"
”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.
"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."
"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.
You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.
You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.
"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.
"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.
"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.
The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.
Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.
Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.
"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.
He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.
Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.
"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.
You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.
"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."
Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."
As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.
Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.
"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.
You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"
"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.
After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.
"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.
"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.
You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.
Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.
Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.
"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"
"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"
A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."
You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.
"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."
"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.
"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.
You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.
"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"
"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.
"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."
He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"
Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.
Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.
"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.
Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.
Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."
Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.
"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.
You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"
"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.
In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.
Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.
"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.
"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"
Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.
You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.
Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.
"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."
Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.
"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."
Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.
"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."
Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.
You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.
Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.
You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.
The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.
"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."
"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"
You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."
You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.
Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."
"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.
"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."
"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.
"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."
You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.
Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.
"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.
A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.
The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.
Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.
You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.
He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."
After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.
"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.
You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"
"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.
"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.
It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.
The three of you had become comfortable and content.
As if that's how things had always been
Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.
It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.
"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"
You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.
"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."
"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."
"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.
You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.
Gojo was right, it did feel like home.
A warm, safe, comforting, home.
It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.
The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.
He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.
Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.
"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.
"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"
Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.
Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.
"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"
They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.
"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.
"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"
Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.
"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.
"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.
He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.
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