#and behind you can see a couch and a coffee table with what looks like a bonsai tree on it
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daddysfangirls-marvel · 16 hours ago
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Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.3
*Bonus*
Steve rogers x female! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x female!Reader
Warning: fluff, smut
"He's doing much better. He should be right as rain by morning." Bucky said as he placed leaned against the counter next to (y/n) as she did the dishes.
Steve had fallen ill Bucky, (Y/n), and Mrs. Rogers have been doing their best to take care of him. Mrs. Rogers had switched to the night shift temporary so she could be with Steve during the day and Bucky and (y/n) would be with him at night after work. It had been two weeks and his fever was finally letting up.
"Aunt Sarah will love to hear that. She hates night shift."
"I hear her night shifts are quiet"
"yeah, but there are no doctors on ward meaning if something happens they have to call one in and none of them live close. There is only so much nurses can do."
Bucky kissed her shoulder" She'll be alright." and picked up a towel helping her dry. "Aunt Sarah is strong and so is Steve. They'll be just fine."
"I know, doesn't mean I can't worry." They finished cleaning the kitchen in silence.
Bucky watched as (Y/n) pulled out extra blankets and pillows getting the couch ready. They would sleep on the couch as to not catch Steve's illness.
"you're staring" (Y/n) said not even looking at him. She could feel his eyes on her backside, nothing new. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her and kissing her shoulder and back of her neck.
"I'm going to change into my nightgown." She said pushing him away. " How about you make some tea? I'll be back"
-
When she came back in her night gown she found Bucky sitting on the couch legs spread in nothing but his pants and beer in his hand.
"I said tea"
He just smiled and waved her over. She came over sitting on his lap straddling him she took the beer from his hand took a swig and made a disgusted face he took it back. " Still don't like beer."
"Sorry," He said " we'll find something for you doll. Like that wine you liked." She wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek.
"I don't need alcohol." (y/n) said running her fingers through his hair. He put the beer out the coffee table and put his hands on her hips. "We need to go to sleep"
"I know" he said as he started kissing and nibbling on her neck.
"you've got work tomorrow" he pulled her hips closer. Putting her on his growing bulge.
"I Know" he groaned. Pulling up her night gown and found no underwear.
"I've got school tomorrow" she moans as she rocks her hips. He slips his hands under her gown and grasping her breast. " We need to sleep."
"do you really want to sleep?" he asked pulling his hands from under her dress.
She sighed leaning her forehead against his " No," she said.
Bucky bit her bottom lip. "You sure?" he asked smirked.
"yeah,"
And in one fell swoop her nightgown was gone leaving her naked and in Bucky's lap. This was not what she was expecting and he could see that on her face.
"Sorry, should have asked." He moved to put her gown back on but she stopped him.
"Can we deem the lights?" she asked. He nodded letting her off his lap and moving to turn off the lights, leaving only a lamp. When he comes back she has wrapped a blanket around herself looking down the hallway towards Steve's room.
"we can stop here. We can go to sleep." she looked to him and shakes her head. He leans down kissing her forehead.
"I can be quiet" she whispers sitting up on her knees. He kissed letting his tongue slip into her mouth, tasting her. He picks her up letting her wrap her legs around him. She moaned as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. And flinched as she felt his fingers touched her other lips.
"Fuck" she cursed as she felt him insert his fingers. She hissed as he started to pump his fingers. As he stood in the middle of the room he was the only things she could hold on to. So, she pulled his hair and clawed his back. And he groaned all the while.
She whimpered biting into his neck as she climbed to her climax but before she could reach it. He pulled away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.
"Aren't you an Aces. Planned all of this."
"No, but always prepared."
She giggled as he dropped her onto the couch. (y/n) watched as he shimmed off his pants. He was bigger than Stevie. Watched as he slipped on the condom with the skillset of someone who has done it many times before. Bucky leans over her, grabbing the back of the couch. Pulling her legs around his waist.
"Are you ready?"
"Yeah," she said, lifting her hips toward him.
He didn't waste any time after that. She bit her lip as he pushed in the tip. He reached down, grabbing her hip as he pushed in further. As she began to moan loudly, he pulled her into a kiss to silence her. She moans into the kiss as he bottoms out. He pulls away and asks
"Are you okay?" She just nods and pulls him closer. " You gotta say something, doll."
She moans, " Good, good."
"Good?" he spoke as he slowly began to thrust into her.
"So good." she whimpered.
(Y/n) gasps as he changes their position, putting her on her back and a leg on his shoulder. She moans as he goes in deeper, leaning over her.
Bucky groaned as her walls tightened around him. He leans down, kissing her as he starts to thrust inside of her. With his mouth covering hers the only sound heard the sound of skin slapping the wet sound of him pounding into her. It echos through out the room. (Y/n) is sure the neighbors could hear.
Bucky pulled away from the kiss putting his head into her shoulder his thrust soon became slobby and started to slow down. He cursed as her walls clenched down on him. He could now understand why Steve had cum so quickly, Her pussy was fucking fantastic, He was trying his best not to follow the example of the smaller man trying to last longer give her pleasure first.
Reaching in between them he found her clit and began to rub it gently. (Y/n) bite her lip trying her best to hide her moans.
"Let me hear you, come on make noise for me." and she did moaning out breathlessly. As she dug her nails into his back arching into his touch. "Go on cum for me love, please cum for me."
"B-Bucky, oh Bucky" she moaned out as she felt her self reach that edge.She cried out as cum shaking underneath him. Bucky was quick to follow filling his condom.
As they caught their breathes Bucky put her leg down and flipped them over so she was on his chest.
"I love you" she mumbled into his chest.
"I love you too."
-
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thejasontoddarchives · 2 years ago
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Jason’s Apartment
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Batman and Robin (2011-) #11
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Batman: Wayne Family Adventures Ep. 31 (Webtoon)
Either Jason has a favorite safe house, or he decorated numerous safe houses the exact same way (kinda unhinged).
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Red Hood and the Outlaws: Rebirth (2016-) #1
I reckon this is the other side of that weapons wall.
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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago
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P1 here.
Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 
Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.
Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 
Though he wasn't complaining.
A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 
Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”
Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.
Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?
“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.
“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.
“Upstairs then.”
For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.
He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.
“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.
“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 
Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.
“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.
Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”
This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.
Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.
With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 
The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.
With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 
Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.
You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.
“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.
“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.
You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.
“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”
Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.
Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.
A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.
“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”
His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”
You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.
“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”
You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”
Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 
As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.
Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 
Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.
“We aren't done.”
-
The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.
Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers
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sonrium · 3 months ago
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DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem
Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.
Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.
Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.
After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.
Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”
“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.
“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.
“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.
“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”
“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.
Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.
(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)
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imaginedisish · 4 months ago
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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!
Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...
Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts
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It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life. 
The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.  
You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind. 
“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway. 
He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you. 
“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.
“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”
You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”
“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying. 
You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”
“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”
His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down. 
“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle. 
Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.
“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”
Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.” 
The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.  
“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh. 
You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back. 
Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway. 
Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—
“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs. 
“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed. 
“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance. 
Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering. 
“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”
You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself. 
He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you. 
“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin. 
Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—
“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”
“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it. 
“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.” 
Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.” 
Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something. 
“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile. 
He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell. 
“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall. 
“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies. 
You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest. 
He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”
Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!” 
Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.
God. You are so lovesick.
Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth. 
You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine. 
“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you. 
“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist. 
Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest. 
You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.   
“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 
“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.
“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him. 
He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter. 
You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.
Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say. 
“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes. 
Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—” 
Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.” 
“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"
“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”
“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.” 
Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.” 
“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down. 
You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”
You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck.  You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum. 
It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise. 
Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks.  You, you think. 
“Me?” What? 
“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”
“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.  
“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours. 
The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing. 
Everything is him. Logan. 
“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you. 
His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him. 
“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.  
“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him. 
He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.” 
He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way. 
He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other. 
“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest. 
He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower. 
He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass. 
Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.” 
And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes. 
He's starving for you.
He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core. 
His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.” 
He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”
Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”
“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”
You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit. 
“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely. 
He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement. 
You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance. 
He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.” 
You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”
“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”
And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt. 
“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”
He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out. 
Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again. 
He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be. 
“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly. 
He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”
“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you. 
“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.” 
You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good. 
Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours. 
“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper. 
You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”
“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you. 
He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air. 
Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.
“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence. 
He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”
“I know, but—”
It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer. 
“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”
Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.” 
Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.  
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months ago
Text
I THINK YOUR LOVE WOULD BE TOO MUCH ; SATORU GOJO
summary; satoru knows that you’re worried about something. he just doesn’t know what.
word count; 4.1k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, sickening amounts of fluff, (that’s literally all. that’s it. thank you for your time), you’re both down horrendous, the ”something” reader is worried about is very very silly <333, mostly satoru’s pov!!
a/n; i love this man so fucking much my chest hurts so i dug up the sappiest wip i could find in my drafts <333 you can tell i completely lost the plot halfway through but just pretend that i didn’t ok. i dedicate this to gojo nation :3
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satoru feels your stare prickle at the back of his neck.
he’s rummaging through the fridge, one hand on his hip, grabbing two cans of iced tea from the bottom compartment. peach for him, lime for you. his infinity is down, the pads of his fingers meeting chilled aluminum, condensation licking at his skin.
but the goosebumps that sensation causes is nothing compared to the ones he gets from this — your stare digging into the back of his head, your attention aimed directly at him. when he turns around, closing the fridge with a bump of his hipbone, you freeze. like a deer caught in headlights. 
satoru grins.
”you checkin’ me out?”
”no,” you blurt. his smile only grows.
”aw…” he waltzes across the room, from the kitchen island to the living room, fuzzy socks against the floorboards. ”what’s up, then? something on your mind?”
with a clink, he puts the cans of tea down on the coffee table. you murmur out a breath of thanks, but make no move to reach for either of them.
now that he’s close enough to see you properly — he thinks to himself that you do look a little ill at ease. something in the crease between your brows, shying away from the eye contact he wants. something in the way your voice comes out somewhat strained.
”it’s nothing… i just —” 
you stop. gaze fleeing from his own, slipping down to your lap. he thinks you look particularly small like this. curled up on his expensive couch, curling in on yourself; gnawing at your bottom lip.
”… i’m being dumb.”
satoru hums. tilting his head, taking you in — wasting no more than a mere moment before taking action. 
you feel him plop down next to you, a shift in the weight bearing down on his couch. comforting. when you glance up, he’s smiling, patient and light. hand sneakily slipping between the cracks of your own, squeezing your palm, running his thumb over the ridges of your knuckle.
”wanna tell me about it?”
from behind the black layer of glass obscuring your frame, satoru watches you intently. watches your expression shift, drinking in the twitch of your brows, how the colour of your eyes flickers in the light. the way your soul sulks and sputters under the weight of his all-seeing gaze. 
you part your lips. slowly, searching for the right words — only to close them again.
you try once more. hesitant. 
all you can manage is a frustrated huff.
”it’s nothing, honestly,” you’re quick to backtrack, wincing inwardly. ”i've just… been thinking. i guess.”
a hum. his smile doesn’t waver. ”about what?”
you avert your gaze. biting your lip, again, turning away from him; resting your chin on the heel of your palm. avoiding his stare like it could turn you to stone. he barely picks up on the words you murmur, flowing out beneath your breath.
”i... can't tell you.”
satoru raises a brow. 
a moment passes. two, three — the silence is telling. you can hear the discontentment in his voice, despite his attempts to mask it.
”why not?”
”i… haah.” you scoot away, just a little more, turning away so he can’t dissect your expression the way he’d like to. ”i just can’t, okay?”
silently, silently, he observes you. the little of you he can see, at the very least; fixating on the side of your face, your cheek, those fluttering eyelashes. as if it could tell him something. you can’t see the way his eyes narrow, behind his shades, black glass shielding you from the weight of his scrutiny.
satoru bites back a huff. 
curiosity and impatience aside, he feels offended. thoroughly so. he doesn't like it when you shut him out, like this, when you don’t allow him to soothe you.
your relationship has been a slow one — steady, a kind of settling in he never thought he’d experience. calm waves lapping along the edges of smooth sand, washing away tiny pebbles and handfuls of sea glass; delicately coming closer. getting him used to the sensation before gently urging him to take a dip. 
that’s the kind of love you share. 
so it stings, a little, when you won’t let him return the favour. it stings in the same way his phantom scars itch on cold nights.
he knows opening up isn't easy. for you, for anyone, least of all for him — but he still finds himself feeling a little bit dejected. because he's supposed to be your safe space. the person you can trust with absolutely anything.
(if he can’t be that, for you, then what the hell is he even good for?)
he can’t help but feel the slightest tug of worry, too. seeing the tight line of your closed lips, that hardness of your expression. the unmistakable stress accumulating in the corners of your eyes.
but he doesn’t voice that worry. he simply gives your hand another squeeze, and smiles a little wider.
”try me.”
a sigh flows from your lips. ”you don't get it, satoru.”
your voice has a bite to it, now, just a little harsh. something akin to a soft hiss — defensiveness, he ultimately settles on. but why?
”it’s —” you muster up a glance his way, the slightest little peek, before turning away again. blurting out the words on the tip of your tongue. ”it’s so fucking embarrassing. you’ll laugh.”
satoru blinks.
”… huh?”
”you’ll laugh, and you'll tease me, and — ” he feels your hand slip from his own, muffling a groan as it covers your face. ”i’ll never live it down.”
you’re hiding, squirming, and satoru’s curiosity increases at an alarming rate. he leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, but you don’t let him. 
now he’s nothing short of intrigued.
”i won't,” he says, simply. voice as clear as glass. you scoff into your hands.
”you will!”
”i promise you i won't laugh.”
”you always say that.” a sigh falls from your lips, deep and heavy, as your hands finally slip down to your lap. ”but you never mean it. you’ll laugh so much. i know you will.”
you bite down on your lip. he wants to cup your jaw and kiss you, mend the bruising with a swipe of his tongue — but he tactfully decides against it.
”it’s — it's so…” you trail off, fidgeting with your hands, nervously linking your fingers together. gazing down with a pout. ”so stupid.” 
”baby…”  his voice takes on a fond tone, tender and patient. everything he strives to be, when it comes to you; you and you alone. ”c’mon. you can tell me anything.” 
with a sense of delicacy, he takes your hands into his bigger ones. tucking them into his palms, bringing them into his own lap — meeting your meek eyes. 
”right?”
through the blue of his gaze, he watches you falter. watches your eyes soften, crumbling a little, as you silently weigh your options. you look flustered.
then you slowly part your lips.
”you’re gonna think i’m just joking, or whatever, but — but i mean it. i’m…” your throat bobs with a shallow gulp. ”i’m seriously worried.” 
satoru nods. ”i’ll take you seriously.”
you look up. all you’re met with is a reassuring smile, familiar dimples, the slightest hint of a kind blue behind his shades.
and you finally give in.
”i… i think i might —”
shifting and squirming, your gaze flits from spot to spot, hands still intertwined with his own. you’re caged in, forced to face him, and it only adds to your nervosity. his eyes never leave your face.
”i think… i…”
your voice comes out sounding tiny. gaze stuck to the couch beneath you, as your lips form around the right syllables, and you finally blurt out out the words you've been trying to keep at bay —
”i think i love you too much.”
silence.
you still refuse to meet his gaze. a red hue crawls up your neck, spreading to the tips of your ears, heartbeat pounding under your ribs. the sentence spills out of your lips like an arrow; so rushed he barely deciphers it in time.
before the silence can swallow you whole, you continue. trying not to stammer, holding back an embarrassed wince. pouting softly, brows furrowed as your clammy hands twitch anxiously against his own. ”like... to the point where… it drives me a little insane.”
and then you wait. with bated breath, too embarrassed to look up, bottom lip tensing and softening between your teeth. dreading the explosive reaction he’ll undoubtedly give you.
… except it doesn’t come.
he’s not saying a word. nothing. the silence is so deafening you could cut it in half, lingering, festering in the air around you. all you hear is your own stupid, erratic little heartbeat — refusing to settle down. 
a couple painful moments pass, before you physically can't take it anymore.
as slowly as you can muster, your gaze travels upwards — from his lap to his chest to his exposed collarbone, until his face finally enters your field of vision. you can’t resist the temptation.
(why is he being so quiet? satoru is never quiet.)
you meet his gaze. or what you think is his gaze, anyhow, because you can’t see the way his eyes are squeezed shut. what you do notice is the twitch of his lips, quivering ever so slightly, as if unsure of which direction to go — and you know one of satoru’s sharp teeth must be biting down hard to keep them in place. his shoulders are shaking, only barely, and he breathes out sharply through his nose; in a desperate attempt to keep his promise.
desperately struggling to maintain his composure. 
he makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and all that effort goes down the drain. met with the sight of your flushed face, wide eyes, shining with embarrassment and disbelief. 
like a stack of cards blown over by the wind, satoru’s poker face crumbles. he fails to bite back the wide grin that breaks out across his lips, showing off the white of his teeth, and a soft bout of fresh laughter flows from out his lips.
you gape at him. 
then your brows furrow, harshly, and you choke on a scoff. with a start, you’re scrambling to stand up, tugging your hands away from his. 
”see?” you hiss, almost tripping over your own two feet as you shoot up from the couch. ”i told you! you're laughing!”
(you sound so embarrassed he thinks he might cry.)
satoru gives up. laughter reverberating throughout his entire body, deep and loud, from the very bottom of his gut — enough to have him clutching at his sides. that only makes you flush deeper, glare harder, and all he can think is that he wants to kiss you silly.
”you promised!”
”i’m —” he chokes on a sharp wheeze, one hand reaching out to keep you from leaving. ”i’m sorry, baby, i —”
but he only ends up doubling over. sputtering with laughter, feeling the leather of the couch meet his cheek. you turn away sharply, and he pulls himself up again. ”wait — sweetheart —” 
a fond chuckle rumbles through his chest, his long arms circling around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. caging you in. you struggle helplessly, trying desperately to break free, but it’s useless — he’s the strongest for a reason.
all you can do is writhe and grumble under your breath, inhaling a familiar scent of vanilla and musk. the fabric softener he uses puts your senses hopelessly at ease, but he’s still laughing — so you can’t help but kick and struggle seamlessly.
”let me go, satoru!”
said man chokes on another little laugh, shoulders shaking, tucking you so close he can feel the pitter patter of your heartbeat against his stomach. you’re so upset with him. but he can’t stop, can't reel it back in, and every weak punch to his chest and muffled protest just makes his composure feel more out of reach. he tried his best. 
he really, really did. 
he tried so hard not to laugh.
(”i think i love you too much.”)
god. just what is he supposed to do with you, huh?
”i’m sorry,” he grins, almost entirely out of breath. ”’m not doing it on purpose, you're just —” 
a sudden fit of giggles. 
"you're so cute.”
”satoru, it’s — not funny,” you whine, practically burning up. every single sound he makes buzzes in your ear. ”i’m serious. i —”
you squeeze your eyes shut. giving in, finally, allowing yourself to melt into his arms. limbs losing their feistiness. he delights in the sensation.
”you don't get it.”
it’s a whisper, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he hears it nonetheless. deep breaths, he reminds himself. it’s hard to take such an adorable confession seriously, but he tries. for whatever reason, you genuinely sound troubled. 
”wait, so you —” he bites back an amused breath, but can’t hide the palpable smile in his voice. ”you love me… too much?”
a groan. you hide away, nuzzling further into his chest; your safe harbour. 
”… i told you it was embarrassing.”
”it’s not,” he’s quick to console you. ”i’m just confused.” a big palm glides across the back of your head, smoothing down your tousled hair. he pats your head softly. ”i mean…” 
a deep inhale. his heartbeat finally settles into a calm rhythm, slow and steady, lungs flooding with oxygen. he breathes out through his nose.
”is that really such a bad thing?”
”it is.” a frown finds its way onto your lips. your reply is instantaneous. ”i don’t think it’s normal. i’m just…”
satoru listens. patiently, feeling your fingers grip onto the edges of his shirt — comforting yourself with the soft fabric. then you sigh.
”i don’t know. i just can’t, like…” you grapple for the right word, moving your hands haphazardly, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. ”comprehend how much i love you.”
satoru bites back a smile. 
(his heart flutters, flutters, flutters, like cherry blossoms on a windy spring morning.)
before he has the chance to, you part your lips again; speaking in a soft voice. resigned, he thinks. ”it’s just weird. it’s not exactly bad, but —” 
you bite down on your lip. 
”... it’s scary.”
a soft coo buzzes in your ear. satoru can’t help but pull you closer, closer still, smothering you in the warmth of his embrace. conveying what he knows will be too much for you to hear in words — what he knows he couldn’t convey in the language that you speak. you feel warm, still burning up a bit. like a little firefly. 
he isn’t faring much better, though; a vague heat blooming under the skin of his nape. smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.
(what on earth did he do to deserve you?)
a firm jaw settles on the top of your head. satoru parts his glossy lips, voice flowing out somewhat breathlessly, affectionate as can be. 
”don’t you think i feel exactly the same about you?”
his pulse trembles against you. when you strain your ears, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat, mingling with your own; still resounding in your ears. 
”… i dunno.”
satoru’s hold around you tightens, ever so slightly. something in the way he cradles you, strong arms around your waist, a low hum accompanying the light squeeze of his limbs. he can’t see your face, from this angle, but his pupils still flicker downwards — hungry for a glimpse of your expression.
then he smiles. 
”i’m terrified of you, y’know?”
you blink. once, then twice, eyelids fluttering. a moment of silence passes.
”… huh?”
”beyond terrified, actually,” his smile builds into a grin. ”i’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it. no one scares me more than you do.”
satoru pulls away, just a little, just enough to finally get a good look at you. your eyes are brimming with confusion. a large palm goes to cradle your cheek, and he tilts his head — inhaling a breath.
”i love you so much that it hurts.”
a soft chuckle slips from out his lips, when he catches your flustered, wide-eyed stare. sneaking a hand towards the small of your back, leaning in to press a kiss against the apple of your cheek.
”i adore you,” he whispers, smooth syllables melting into a purr. you stiffen under his touch. his fingertips trace the lines of your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, chaste and sweet as he nips at the sensitive skin. muttering under his breath. ”you have no idea.”
and you truly, truly don't. satoru doesn't think you even know the half of it. 
you can’t possibly know what you mean to him — that your very presence makes him forget who he is, what he has to be, a weight on his shoulders he grew used to long ago. you can’t possibly know that just the feeling of your hand in his makes the distance between you feel so inconsequential. 
you are the most precious thing in his life. he doesn't think you could ever understand the weight that sentiment carries — he wouldn't want you to. 
and here you are, so awfully worried, because you're too in love with him. he still can't help but grin. you’re so sweet, so silly. the words make him feel as if his heart is crumbling.
”… i can't believe you’re real sometimes.”
something tender rests under the whisper. something frighteningly sincere. it makes you feel a little like you’ve been sliced open. it’s raw, it’s heavy and light and it’s love. it’s satoru — all his little inconsistencies, and the stability beneath it all. 
and some part of you knows that he's telling the truth. that he understands your ridiculous little confession, your embarrassing worries. satoru understands. 
that alone is enough to quell the turmoil in your chest. 
(what he gives you is a love as boundless as the sky; one that covers everything you could ever be. unconditional.)
”so there’s no need to worry.” 
he pulls back, lips leaving your skin. you still feel their warmth linger. his shades have slipped down, barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, and you can see the blue of his eyes. they’re shining like jewels, soft around the edges. consumed by love.
”there’s no way you could ever love me as much as i love you.”
gazing into his eyes, as if hypnotized by their glow, your own gleam with a mesmerizing shine. glazed over with something sweet and wonderful, something satoru wants to burn into his retinas so he never forgets it. he wishes he could wring it out of you and put it in his pocket — but it looks prettier behind your cornea.
he savours the moment, slowly, until it abruptly ends.
with a second of pause, your brows draw together, forming into an irritated furrow. lips tugging downwards into a frown. ”that’s not true.”
satoru blinks. still smiling. 
”i love you way more,” you huff. petulant, almost, something soft and amused in your tone. he thinks the sound fits you more than anything; unburdened and stubborn.
(as charming as you are, though — this is one battle he refuses to lose.)
”nu-uh,” he pokes the tip of your nose, delighting in the soft flutter of your blinking eyelashes. ”i love you more. sorry, sweetie.”
a huff. ”you don't.”
”i do.”
”you don't."
this time, you're the one reaching out, the pad of your finger landing on the tip of satoru’s nose — teasingly trailing up to the bridge of it. his heartbeat stutters, but he feigns nonchalance, raising an unimpressed brow; eyes unknowingly gleaming with mirth. 
and mischief.
you barely have time to react. one moment you're seated on satoru’s lap, the next you're looking up at him with your back against the couch. he towers over you, keeping your hands pinned above your head with a single palm. 
a familiar chill runs down your spine.
”i do,” he grins, free hand reaching towards you. recognizing the danger of a situation you've been in more times than you can count, you try to squirm away — but you don't get very far.
satoru’s fingers ghost over your sides, and panic floods your wide eyes. 
even though you know exactly what’s about to happen, a yelp still pushes past your lips when he begins to tickle you. mercilessly, fingers trailing over your most sensitive spots. all you can do is squirm, trying your damnedest to bite back the bout of laughter crawling up your throat —
but apparently neither of you are very good at that.
when the familiar cling of your laughter finally spills past your lips, flowing into satoru’s ears, his smile blooms into a grin. big and happy, childish in its innocence — not even attempting to hide his joy. his own giggles melt into your soft wheezes and desperate pleas, as you struggle to break free, straining against the firm hold he has on your wrists.
”i love you way, way, way more,” he continues to tease, halting his movement just enough to let you catch your breath. ”it’s not even close.”
even as giggles breathlessly spill from your lips, you manage a shake of your head. ”no, you —”
”wrong answer.”
he cuts you off with a smirk, and the torture starts anew. you can't get the words out, caught in your throat and muffled by a loud squeak, followed by forced laughter. satoru watches, in pure adoration, waiting for the moment you finally relent. 
it doesn’t take long.
”f — fine, fine!”
he stills. eyes crinkled, shades barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to keep going. if only so he can hear your melodic giggles.
”can’t we —” you struggle to catch your breath, words stuck between bouts of leftover laughter. cheeks flushed and chest heaving. ”just call it a tie?”
satoru pauses. he drags it out, exaggerated, building up suspense. eyes narrowing playfully. ”hmmm…” 
then he smiles. a soft, resigned little thing. 
”alright, alright.” he leans forward, keeping you in place. ”that works, i guess.”
and then his lips meet yours. soft and glossy, tasting of cherries, a pleased sigh against your mouth. you’re still panting a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind — slow to pull away, with a drawn out mwah, grinning boyishly at your disheveled state. he lets your wrists go free.
an unimpressed look is all you give him, quick to melt into a soft chuckle. 
”well, that’s that.” you push yourself up with your elbows, fixing your tousled hair. ”now we can forget this ever happened.”
satoru raises a brow. 
”oh, i dunno about that,” he purrs, voice ripe with mischief. a teasing glint flashes in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you, and it’s enough to have your face heating up again. the sight makes him coo. ”you love me so much you can't comprehend it, huh?”
you blink. it takes a moment for your expression to shift, from bafflement to embarrassment — but he thinks it’s all worth it when it does. barely restraining the urge to kiss you again.
”satoru…”
a giggle leaves his lips. reaching a hand out, he pinches your cheek. ”you’re cute.”
with a roll of your eyes, you swat him away; unable to bite back a smile. “quit it.”
”aw.”
he looks so smug. you can’t help but want to bite back, somehow — so you muster up your most shit-eating grin, a distinctly teasing lilt coating your sugar-sweet voice. 
”you love me so much that it hurts, huh?”
satoru blinks.
endearment blooms, in the depths of his cerulean eyes. he watches you carefully, awfully amused — thinking to himself that he must be rubbing off on you. what a scary thought.
”yeah,” he breathes, a sigh laced with sincerity. cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand, settling on the option he knows will fluster you most. ”i do.”
this time, you’re the one who blinks. once, twice, before letting out a groan — slumping against his broad frame. satoru chuckles, breathlessly, consumed by you; by every move you make. all six of his eyes aimed directly at you.
(if he gives you the sky, then what you give him is a love as steady as the ocean; one that’ll drown every bit of his sadness. entirely unyielding.)
”can’t you ever just let me win?” you mutter, breathing in his cologne and tugging at his shirt. pressed up against him, on his couch, safe and secure. right where you should be.
he noses at your neck, pressing a little kiss against your pulsepoint. a quiet, quiet offering at the altar of your soul. ”nope,” he hums, smiling cheekily. 
”i love you too much for that.”
3K notes · View notes
morganbritton132 · 16 days ago
Text
Look, should you beat up the least shadiest drug dealer in Hawkins? No. Do people do it anyways? Unfortunately.
This is what Hopper happens upon driving home from the station. This is also how Eddie finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of the Chief of Police’s truck with a probable broken nose and three undoubtedly bent joints in his pocket, saying, “Well, you know, can’t really afford the hospital so.”
Then Eddie finds himself in the passenger seat of the Chief of Police’s truck driving pass the hospital thinking, wow. Jumped by jocks and murdered by the police all in one day.
He mourns all the times he could have been more annoying, and follows Hopper out of the truck to a little cabin sat back from the road. Hopper tells him to watch for the bear trap and Eddie thinks, what the fuck. He’s about to voice that when he sees it.
Sees him. Sees, “Harrington?”
Steve is tucked into the corner of the couch, messy haired and clearly wearing Hopper’s clothes. He looks beat half to hell with his face bruised and the row a stitches disappearing into his hairline.
Actually, “What happened to you? You look like dog shit.”
“Dog shit,” repeats from behind him and Eddie turns to see a girl with curly hair standing in the doorway of a bedroom.
“Hopper doesn’t like when you teacher her things like that,” Steve says, moves his feet off the cushions so she can sit on the couch with him. “Also, I was kidnapped.”
“You weren’t kidnapped,” Hopper grumbles, having disappeared into the kitchen and returning with a first aid kit. “I don’t like you enough to kidnap you.”
“So, i can leave?”
“You got a parent at home to make sure your brain doesn’t melt out your ears?”
Steve huffs and Eddie is being lead to sit down on the coffee table. Hopper hands him a dishrag and then before Eddie can properly take it, grabs his nose and yanks it back in place. “Ow! Fuck!”
“F-“
“Oh, don’t say that one,” Steve says, shaking his head at El. “Wait until you hear it from Henderson.”
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bi-writes · 2 months ago
Note
Your MOB au gives me so many butterflies 🥴 I hear the key to a long and happy marriage is to be with someone you think is funny. How do you think Simon and his wife make each other laugh? I can see them being the couple that gossips while people watching or MOB wrangles Simon in bed to show him funny cat videos on her phone.
mail-order bride
simon likes spending time with you without screens. he does love watching a movie with you, but one of his favorite ways to spend time with you is to open a little closet of board games and play one of them with you. he'll put on a little music, spread out the game, and you usually spend the evening sitting in his lap and playing either on the couch or on the floor using the coffee table or at the dining table.
"simon, what would you do if i was a worm?"
simon raises a brow, fitting a corner piece of the puzzle into place. he snorts a bit.
"wot are y'on, love?"
"i'm serious!" you laugh. "what would you do if i was a worm?"
"step on you, baby. you'd be a fuckin' worm. gross."
you pout a little, dramatically, and simon winks at you.
"olright, love. i'd put ya in a little box and cherish ya foreva. tha' wot y'wanna hear?"
you giggle, settling in his lap, picking up an edge piece and putting it in its spot.
"yeah. that's what i wanna hear."
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"simon, look."
you hold out your phone in bed, shoving it in his face. he grunts a little, squinting at the bright screen, and he raises a brow as he watches a compilation of orange cat videos put together. he chuckles a little when he sees it, leaning over the bed and planting a kiss on your cheek. he rolls over onto his side, curling a big arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. he tucks his face over your shoulder, leaning over you, and you spend the better part of an hour giggling to yourself as you show simon the collection of videos on your feed.
the next morning, your phone pings while simon is away on base. you hurry out of the kitchen, wiping your floury hands on the apron you wear before seeing a request for a new follower.
you open the app, raising a brow when you look at the account without a profile picture asking to follow your private account.
pumpkin__eater141 wants to follow you.
you click on the profile, rolling your eyes when you see the only picture on the account a very grainy, filtered photo of two sergeants sticking their tongues out and holding up bunny ears behind each other. in the background, very blurry, you can see a glimpse of a skeleton-bone painted glove holding up a middle finger. the caption reads wankerzzz!!!!
the account has 1 follower (sudz_n_budz141), and it follows none, and you can't help but smile when you see the profile has nothing but a cherry emoji as the description.
you accept the follow request, and you follow them back. the whole day, every so often, you get a new video as a direct message. when you finish with the sourdough and leave it to rise, you start to scroll through the intermittent messages you've already gotten.
more cat videos. crazy dashcam footage with the comment "fuckin' mad." some woman who makes crockpot meals with every kind of bagged cheese you can get at the store on high for five hours.
you can't stop smiling. and when you pull out a pot to make dinner later, you and simon make eye contact before laughing.
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"olright, baby, which one ya want?" simon murmurs, nuzzling his mask against your cheek. you giggle, looking up at the display. there's stuffed bears, big squishmallows, pillows. you reach a hand up behind you and caress the back of his neck, biting your lip until you point up at the big cherry squishmallow hanging by the top.
"gotta hit all the glasses to get that one, mate," the attendant says, and you look over your shoulder up at him.
"ooooo...not sure if you can hit all your targets, lieutenant riley?" you ask, and simon snorts, kissing your jaw through the mask before making his way towards the game counter. he picks up the toy rifle, adjusting it in his grip before holding the sight up and taking his stance. you bite your lip watching him. he looks incredibly sexy with that thing in his arms, even if its a fake. it's even sexier hearing the bell ring and watching your husband with terrifying precision knock every glass bottle down. one after the other, each glass falls, and you squeeze your legs together slightly as he goes for a bonus round and knocks them all over again, even quicker.
he turns around when he has your prize in his hands, a big fluffy cherry with a little smile and a little green leaf hat. you squeeze it to your chest before standing on your toes, and simon leans down to peck your lips through the mask. he wraps a big arm around your waist, and when you both pull back, you can't help your big smile, the laughter, that sweet, pretty shine in your eyes.
simon laughs, too.
it's easy when you're this happy.
2K notes · View notes
marauder-misprint · 17 days ago
Text
Checked box
Sirius Black x Potter!reader
13k words
cw: fluff, little bit of snogging, pinning, hurt/comfort (I guess?)
“Black is snogging Eloise Garner in the corridor,” Mary says as she sits down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
“Bit early for a snog, isn’t it?” you ask, not looking up from your paper.
“I’d say so,” she responds, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Isn’t that like the third girl this week?” Lily asks.
“Feels like he’s trying to at least snog every girl in our year and then some,” Marlene answers.
The group is silent for a moment as Mary, Marlene and Lily all stare at you.
“Well? Is he?” Lily asks.
“How would I know?”
“Because he is quite literally in your lap every evening?” Marlene replies. “Honestly, if we didn’t know you, we’d say you two were dating. Or at least you’d’ve been the first one he snogged.”
You make a face at that assumption. “My brother’s best friend, believe it or not, does not confide all of his life’s mission to me.”
“You’re probably one of them,” Mary giggles.
“Except I’m basically his sister!”
“Siblings don’t act like that around each other,” Lily says with a smile. 
“James!” you call to your brother who is a few seats down from the group. “Does Sirius like me romantically?”
He looks up from his Quidditch book, eyes wide.
“What? What did he do to you?”
He slams his book down and quickly walks down the table toward the girls. He crouches next to you so he wasn’t towering over you. 
“What did Padfoot do?”
You laugh at your brother. “Nothing, James. But these three,” you gesture to the girls around you, “think I’m on his to-be-snogged list. I’m not, am I?” Your words were teasing, already knowing that you weren't.
“I’ll damn ensure that you’re not,” he growls, shaking his head.
“But there is a list?” Marlene pipes up. Her eyes glitter with intrigue. 
“Not a list, per se… But he does seem to have trouble keeping to one girl for long.”
“And there you have it, folks! No real list and even if there was, I’m not on it.” You turn to look at James who doesn’t seem to be moving from where he crouches behind your shoulder. “Thanks James. You can, uh, go sit down now.”
“Oooh! Speak of the devil!” Mary chirps, looking toward the Great Hall door where Sirius was entering alone. 
“Morning, pumpkin,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair. “Girls.” 
James had waited until Sirius made it to the girls. The boys went down to their usual spots down the table. Once sat, James bursts into hurried whispers that lead to numerous glances being sent in the girls’ direction. 
“How come I can’t call you pumpkin?” Lily pouts. Of all the pet names, pumpkin was your least favorite.
You roll your eyes before answering. “He’ll be reprimanded later for that. Don’t you worry, dearest Lily.”
“Reprimanded in your sex dungeon?” Marlene gasps, a hand over her heart.
You smack her with your paper from across the table. “Don’t you start a rumor like that!”
“I could totally see you having one though!” Marlene insists. 
“What is your dominatrix name?” Lily asks, gently bumping into your shoulder. 
“You are all too horny this morning. I’ll see you in class.”
You quickly gather your things, take one last sip of coffee and leave the hall. The day seems to go on as usual for you. You sat with the girls in most of your classes. You’re glad the conversation of Sirius’ list had been left at breakfast. There are minor differences in the boys during classes. They appeared to have shuffled their seating arrangements, but it doesn’t affect you until History of Magic. You usually sit next to Sirius. Instead, you were sat next to Peter while Sirius sat on the other side of James. Peter wasn’t your favorite of James’ friends but you could tolerate him. 
There was definitely something different about Sirius in the common room after dinner. You usually hung out with her brother and his friends in the evenings. This would often lead to you sitting with Sirius on the couch, one of you draped over the other. Depending on who was sitting and who was lounging, you would play with each other’s hair or do homework or take a brief nap. You liked when Sirius would read you the assigned chapter because you otherwise wouldn’t read it. This evening, however, Sirius sat in an armchair nowhere near you. You frown as you watch him sit down and proceed to avoid your gaze. 
The altered seating arrangement and not sitting with you on the couch continues for the next few days. By Friday evening, it is driving you crazy. You need to know what is going on. You wait until most people have gone to bed before deciding to confront him. Sirius was usually one of the last people up so you knew that waiting it out would be okay. 
“Black, come ‘ere,” you say.
He looks over at you with a confused look on his face. He had been watching the fire, lost in his own thoughts. When he doesn’t move, you pat the couch cushion next to you. Reluctantly, he gets up and move to sit next to you. 
“What’s up, pumpkin?”
“What’s up with you?” you ask, your brows furrowed. “Feels like you’ve been on the other side of the Earth this week.”
He shrugs, looking back towards the fire. “Just following directions.”
“Whose directions?”
“Prongs.”
“And, pray tell, what did that idiot tell you to do?”
“To stay away from you?” he replies, obvious confusion in his voice. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose in mild frustration. “When was this?”
“Uh, earlier this week at breakfast. Made it seem like it was partly at your request?”
You shake your head. “Leave it to James to mess something up. No. He said he would make sure I didn’t end up as another checked box on your list. That would be all him.”
“Another checked box? What list is this?” Sirius asks with a slight chuckle as he looks at you. 
“The list of every girl in our year and then some,” you giggle, slightly relieved that it seems like he doesn’t have such a list. “You know, your apparent mission to kiss every one. And maybe get some.”
He quickly turns back to the fire, hoping to hide the brief look of embarrassment that crosses his face. You see it anyway and feel your face flush slightly. 
“There’s no list. And you certainly wouldn’t be a box on it if it were.”
“Ouch, Black,” you say with semi-fake hurt. “Cut me deep.”
“Please, I would be neutered if I kissed you.”
You laugh. Your laugh is enough to draw Sirius’ gaze away from the fire again. He loves seeing you smile that widely and knowing it was something he said to get you to. 
“Why were you talking about that imaginary list anyways?”
“Mary saw you snogging Eloise and apparently thought I would know if this list existed,” you say with a soft chuckle. 
“And James was a part of this conversation?” he asks in disbelief.
“Well, I called him over when the girls didn’t believe that we aren’t romantically involved, let alone never kissed.”
Sirius shakes his head with a small smile playing on his lips. “And that leads to James declaring that I need to be at least a meter away from you at all times?”
“I asked him two questions. Do you like me romantically and was I on your to-be-snogged list?” You pause. “You know, he never actually answered the first one.”
“That would be because he doesn’t know,” Sirius says, turning his head almost 90 degrees to crack his neck. “You know how much he hates being wrong… So he’s not going to give an answer if he doesn’t know if it’s right.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I don’t discuss everything with Prongs. Although, he never has asked how I feel about you.”
You chuckle and nudge Sirius with your shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend like you might have feelings for me. It’s… fine that you don’t.” The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you try to sound genuine. You would be lying if you said you never imagined things developing between the two of you. 
“Why do you assume I don’t?” Sirius asks, cocking his head as he looks at you intently.
“Why would you be snogging anything that moves in a skirt if you liked me and you’ve never made a move for me?”
“I thought we agreed that Prongs would have me neutered if I kissed you?” He takes a breath. “And maybe knowing that I could very well lose my best friend if I went after the girl I actually like is the reason I go from girl to girl. None of them make me feel like she does.”
“Wait, what?”
“There’s just more than one reason why you can’t be a checked box on this list,” Sirius says, standing up. “Goodnight, pumpkin.”
He places a gentle kiss on top of your head before heading up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. You stare after him dumbfounded. Has Sirius just essentially told you that he did like you and then leave? 
Despite knowing that he was well out of earshot, you still say, “That’s not my name.”
None of the students remaining in the common room pay you any attention as you sit on the couch alone, talking to yourself now. You slump into the cushions and take over Sirius’ habit of staring into the fire. You understand why he does it. The way that the flames dance and flicker and radiate heat is calming. 
You are distracted all weekend by what Sirius had said. You bury yourself in homework and use it as an excuse to avoid the Quidditch game. It’s Slytherin against Hufflepuff so your absence isn't insulting to James. Despite being tucked away in a distraction-free corner of the library, you make little progress on your homework. Your mind kept wandering back to Sirius and what he had said. You had worked hard to bury all of your feelings for him years ago, assuming it would never happen due to his close friendship with James. Your feelings continued to remain buried as he got closer with you and never hinted that he might like you more than a friend. 
In your dorm, you ignore the comments from Lily and Mary that for someone who spent all weekend in the library, you made such little progress on your assignments, or that they were done extremely poorly. 
On Monday, you really do try to pay attention in class, but it is futile. Even after a weekend of him on your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to Sirius, who is in most of your classes. Even worse, you come to realize that you have no one to talk to about it so you can only let your mind spin as it had for the past two days. You think you disguise your distraction fairly well in classes until Remus grabs your hand in Potions before you can tip an ingredient into your cauldron.
“Are you trying to blow up the classroom?” he hisses at you. 
You blink at him and then look at what you had been about to pour into your brew. He is right. If you had dumped it in, your cauldron would have blown up and severely damaged those around you. You give Remus a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Remus… Been a bit distracted lately.”
“Yeah, I know.”
You give him a look. “Is it obvious?”
“You didn’t bother to apologize or clean up your spilled inkwell in Transfiguration,” he says with a soft smile. “If Lily hadn’t quickly cleaned it up for you, McGonagall would’ve given you detention.”
“Huh… I’ll have to thank her later…”
“What’s got you so distracted?”
“Nothing too important,” you lie.
“If I’m almost blown up over it, it must be important.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it so it’s… festering.”
Remus turns back to his own potion.
“Must be quite the topic if you have no one to talk to about it.”
You scrunch your face as you add the correct ingredient to your potion, causing it to turn a pleasant blue color. 
“What does that mean?”
“You have plenty of people who care for you. And if none of us are good enough, you could probably have your pick of first years who would love to listen to your problems.”
You chew at the dead skin of your bottom lip, looking at Remus and knowing he was right.
“Don’t be mad but sometimes I forget that you are also my friend, not just James’. And that you are the most understanding person on this planet.”
He chuckles softly, not trying to draw attention to himself. “Understandable. But what is it that you feel you have no one to talk to about?”
“It’s too public in here,” you say, looking around the room. “It’s something I can’t talk to the girls about because they will all tease me endlessly if I do. And I can’t talk about it with James because we don’t really discuss that kind of stuff often and he overreacts.”
“And Sirius?”
You purse your lips. 
“Oh,” Remus says, suddenly understanding. “Let’s discuss this after class when I’m certain I’ll be in less danger of blowing up.”
Once your potions are turned in to Professor Slughorn, you and Remus leave the classroom together. Lily, Mary and James give you questionable stares as you disappear around the corner. Neither of you say a word until you are more secluded in the grounds of Hogwarts. You walk down towards the Black Lake. Anyone trying to eavesdrop would have a harder time hearing you over the sound of waves. 
“What did Sirius do?” Remus asks, sitting down and resting his back against a tree. 
Mimicking his actions, you answer, “It’s what he said when I confronted him for avoiding me all last week.”
“Wasn’t that at your request?”
“No. James is a liar.”
“Okay?”
“Long story short, Mary, Marlene and Lily…” you start to say before putting your head in your hands and groaning. “Screw that. Does Sirius like me?”
“He lets you touch his hair. Of course he likes you.”
You lift your head to look at Remus. “Does he like me as more than a friend?”
“What did he say to you?”
“I asked first.”
“I can only speak if I know what he told you.”
You sigh heavily and turn your gaze to the lake.
“Something like he’d lose James if he kissed the girl he actually likes and that’s why he’s been kissing every girl who looks his way. And then that there’s more than one reason why I can’t be another checked box on the list of girls he’s kissed.”
Remus puts his hand on your shoulder. 
“Oh, darling…”
“Remus, does he like me?”
“I believe he does.”
You whip your head towards him. “What do you mean, you believe?”
“He’s not known for pouring his heart out. You know that. He’s private with his more personal feelings,” Remus says, choosing his words carefully. “But I have eyes and ears. The way he looks at you, especially when James isn’t looking. The way he acts around you. The way he talks to you, and about you. … And he calls you pumpkin.”
You don’t say anything. You were taking it all in, although you don’t quite understand why him using that pet name held significance. You just want Remus to keep talking. 
“You know about his home life,” he continues. 
You nod. 
“I don’t think I could say all the ways it makes him the way he is. We’ve only heard snippets of it. I think there’s a lot he has walled off. And he has a found family in us. In James specifically. So he’s going to tread lightly around anything that could harm that.”
You bite the inside of your lip. You know you have been let inside some of Sirius’ walls. There were the miscellaneous late nights filled with more vulnerable conversations over the past two years. A particularly horrendous nightmare had brought Sirius to the common room to sit by the dying fire, and you had already been sitting there. You had been unable to sleep with your own anxieties. You snuggled into each other on the couch and talked until Sirius felt okay to go back to sleep. 
Even with that memory in your head, the thing you say is, “So James’ irrationality is why Sirius hasn’t made a move on me?”
“Part of it… but that’s not what you’re taking away from this conversation. There’s more than Prongs in this equation.”
You sigh and rest your chin on your hands. The sun was beginning to set and it reflects beautifully on the lake’s shimmering surface. 
“You’re also in the equation,” Remus reminds you. “Do you like him as more than a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh. 
“Remus John Lupin, I’ve been in love with him since second year.”
The moment you say that, it hits you like a brick wall. The buried emotions all bubble up and you lean back into the tree forcefully. Your head hits the trunk with a soft thud and you groan at the sudden pain. You know that you thought Sirius was cute from the moment you met him but it did take time and a little bit of maturing for you to decide that you liked him in that way. And because he is your brother’s best friend, you kept quiet about it, even to your female friends. Despite playing it off, you were bothered when you heard about him snogging another girl in the corridor. You were bothered when you heard girls giggle about how handsome he was and how they hoped he would give them attention or take them to Hogsmeade. You relish in the fact that out of every one of his friends, he chose to sit next to you in the common room night after night. And you treasured every time he let you see that vulnerable side of him that he kept so well hidden behind his bright smile and boisterous laugh and devil-may-care attitude. 
“If that’s true, why haven’t you made a move?” 
You laugh again, nudging Remus’s shoulder. 
“I thought you were the smart one of the group. He’s James’ best friend. His best friend who has never once shown an inkling of romantic interest in me. Why would I risk that level of embarrassment with someone who is obviously going to be in my life as long as I stay close with James?”
“Do you ever think that maybe he thought the same thing?”
“Rems, I…”
“Love, listen. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you for certain that he likes you. But I suggest you talk to him. Probably when James isn’t around. And if it comes to it, screw what James thinks. He just cares for you and doesn’t want to see you hurt. You are twins after all.”
You sit in silence for a minute. The crashing waves of the lake fill the air as the sun disappears over the horizon. 
“Rems, thanks for this. But we did miss dinner,” you finally say.
You stand up and hold out a hand to Remus. He takes it with a smile. He grunts as he stands up, like the old man the boys often compare him to.
“You act like we don’t know where the kitchens are…” 
After a quick stop by the kitchens for sandwiches, you enter the common room together. You are greeted by multiple versions of “There you are!” and “I told you they’d be together, I saw them leave Potions together!” It seems as if your disappearance had captured the attention of every sixth year Gryffindor. 
“You missed dinner!” James chides. 
“We grabbed sandwiches,” you say, holding up your almost finished grilled cheese. 
“What were you doing?” His eyes narrow at Remus. 
“Talking?” Remus answers, moving past James to sit by in a chair by the fire. 
You, however, feel frozen with James in front of you and the eyes of many Gryffindors on you. 
“Talking kept you from food?” Marlene asks in disbelief. “Must’ve been some conversation.”
“I’d say it was enlightening,” you say. 
“Did he teach you Lumos?” Peter asks from the couch. 
“Ha,” Remus says dryly. 
“Are you okay?” James asks you in a hushed tone as the non-sixth year Gryffindors slowly turn back to their own conversations. 
“Yes? I just needed to talk to Rem about something private.”
“Something private?” he asks, trying to get more information out of you. “With Moony? Come on, what is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. God forbid a girl talks to her male friends.”
“If nothing is going on, then tell me what you were talking about.”
“You are not privy to my every conversation,” you snap.
“I am a bit when it’s with one of my best mates.”
“Your best mates are also some of my best mates, James. Learn to share.”
Your voices were increasing in volume.
“Do I need to talk to him too?” James asks, placing a hand on your shoulder which you immediately shrug off. 
“No! And I never asked you to talk to Sirius!”
Sirius looks from Remus to you to James at the mention of his name. 
“You asked if you were…”
“I asked for information. That’s all. And you have the audacity to tell him to stay away from me?”
“I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” you spit. “And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be from your friends.” You look over at the boys and then back at James. “If anyone needs protecting from the people you call your best mates, then you need to reevaluate the kind of company you keep.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Let me get hurt.”
You give James one last nasty look before finally being able to move your feet. You disappear into the girls’ dorms. As you walk away, you can feel eyes watching your every move. Apparently if you argue with your brother loudly, the common room is forced to give you all of their attention. Once out of sight, James collapses on the couch, refusing to look at anyone. Lily, Marlene and Mary watch James sit down and then follow you up the stairs. Lily hesitates a moment before knocking on the door to your shared dorm. 
“Lovie?” she called softly as she opened the door a crack. “Potter!”
The door creaks loudly as it opens wider. You had changed out of your uniform and into muggle clothes. You are sitting on your bed, lacing up your heavy boots with a small bag next to you.
“Going somewhere?” Marlene asks. She is the first of the girls to enter the room.
“I need to clear my head.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Lily asks, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle.
“Heard about some poachers gathering in the forest. And if I can’t find them, I’ll find some trolls or dugbogs or something.”
“And you plan on going alone?”
You shoot the girls a warning look. “Yes. Evans, if you threaten detention, make it for Thursday.”
Lily doesn’t say anything. 
“What did you and Lupin talk about?” Mary inquires, not quite seeing that you aren’t in the mood to talk about that yet. 
“Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”
You, having finished lacing your boots, grab you bag and storm out of the dorm. You have to push past Mary who is still standing in the doorway. Your heavy footsteps silence the common room before you finish descending the stairs. Eyes follow you as you leave the common room. Once out of the portrait, the common room roars to life again. 
“So… what the fuck?” Peter asks, looking at his friends.
“She’s pissed off,” Remus says coolly. “And I’d say for decent reason.”
James gives him an annoyed look.
“That time of the month, is it?”
“Peter, no!” Remus chastises. “She’s just figuring stuff out.”
“Care to share with the class?” James asks. 
“I’d prefer to not spend the next two weeks in the hospital wing so I’ll let her tell you when she’s ready.”
“So we’re going to let her go off like that?” Sirius asks, speaking up for the first time since you and Remus came back. 
“Yes,” Remus and James say at the same time. 
“Like she said, she doesn’t need protection,” Remus says, sending a wary glance to James.
---
Remus was mildly surprised that when he woke up, Sirius wasn’t in his bed. He was, however, less surprised when he found Sirius slumped on the couch in the common room. Remus approached him, ready to wake him up, only to find that Sirius was awake. His hair was slightly frizzy and dark bags formed under his eyes. He was still in his disheveled uniform from the day before, having never gone up to their dorm after dinner. 
“Pads?” he says gently. “Were you up all night?”
Sirius looks away from the fire groggily. 
“Huh?” He processes what Remus had asked him. He sits up, his back loudly cracking as he does so. “Yeah. Someone had to wait for Potter to get back.”
“And you didn’t come up when she did?”
Sirius shakes his head before running a hand through his curls.
“She didn’t, Moons. She didn’t come back.”
Remus’ eyes go wide.
“No, surely she came back. You must’ve drifted asleep at some point.”
“She didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”
Remus sits next to his friend, placing a hand on his knee. “Maybe she got back recently and just went straight to breakfast? How ‘bout we go get some, yeah?”
“Let me change,” Sirius mutteres, giving Remus a tired look.
He doesn’t move for a minute. His brain feels too fuzzy and wired at the same time. Convincing his legs to support his weight as he eventually stands up is more of a task than he anticipates. He is quick in getting ready for the day in their dorm. He doesn’t understand how James is still asleep, or how he had slept at all when you weren’t in the castle for all they knew. Sirius ties his hair back and looks at his reflection with his fresh uniform on. Despite his attempts to make himself look presentable, not having slept at all and being filled with worry makes him look exhausted, which is how he felt. He just doesn’t want to show it. He sighs and returns to Remus. 
Sirius watches the Great Hall door as he slowly eats some breakfast. He drinks some coffee that Remus pushed towards him, saying something along the lines of needing caffeine if he was planning on making it through the day. When the girls sit down, they confirm that you hadn't been in their dorm that morning and your bed looked unslept in. Sirius groans. The girls exchange curious looks. 
Palpable concern and worry finally reaches the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors when they are all sat in Charms and you still weren't there. 
“You’re certain that she didn’t come back and just made her bed when she got up?” James asks Marlene.
“Positive. All of her school things were still there. The bed hadn’t been touched.”
“And since when does she make her bed?” Lily asks. 
Halfway through class, you enter the room. All eyes turn to look at you. You have multiple bandages over your body, looking freshly applied. You hand Professor Flitwick a note and take your spot next to Mary. You don’t say anything to all the Gryffindors staring at you. You just open your book to the same page as Mary and turn to look at the professor, hoping he’d continue his lesson where he left off. 
“Where have you been?” Mary whispers, not looking at you.
“Forest. And then hospital wing,” you reply nonchalantly. 
“Did you sleep?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” you assert. “Now shush.”
After Charms ends, the Gryffindors surround you so you can’t slip away to your next class. You avoid making eye contact with any of them as you gather your things and attempt to push through them. 
“Going into the forest at night is one thing,” Lily chides. “Not coming back until halfway through the first lesson of the day is another.”
“Okay, mum,” you say shortly, still trying to push through the group.
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” James asks.
You glare at him. “Certainly not to you.”
“You look like you barely came back in one piece!” he exclaims. “I’m shocked Pomfrey let you leave the hospital wing.”
A wicked glint shines in your eyes. “Oh, she didn’t. I just left.”
“Potter!” Mary gasps.
“Macdonald!” you mimic with an eye roll. “If you lot don’t get out of my way, I’ll be late for Ancient Runes and I’m already on thin ice with Raltmole.”
You finally push through the group and leave them in the Charms classroom. They exchange frustrated looks before following you out. They split up for their respective classes, Remus and Lily following you towards the Ancient Runes classroom. 
“Did you find the poachers you were looking for?” Lily asks tentatively once they sit on either side of you. 
You nod. “And then some. The hippogriffs they had weren’t happy to be freed.”
“Did you bow to them?” Remus asks.
“No? Was I supposed to?”
“Yes!” Remus breathes.
You hum and spin your quill in your fingers. “Now I know for next time.”
Professor Raltmole gathers the class’ attention and begins her lecture. Remus takes a ratty piece of parchment from his bookbag and scrawls a short note on it before sliding it across the desk toward you. 
Padfoot waited up for you
You quickly read it, write a response and slide it back.
Is that why he looks like living death?
He didn’t sleep because you were gone
You crumple the paper when you get it back from Remus. You shove it in your pocket, away from Lily’s view. 
“I’ll talk to him later,” you hiss to Remus.
An angry Madam Pomfrey yells at you in front of most of the castle at lunch for sneaking out of the hospital wing when you were clearly still in need of tending to. An excuse of not wanting to miss more class seemed to ward her off, but you feel the nurse’s frustrated gaze on you for the rest of the meal. Mary and Marlene ask you about the poachers you dueled as you walked to your next class. You recount a watered down version of the previous night’s events for them. You make sure that your injuries still make sense but their severity less. The girls are simply impressed and less concerned for their friend. 
You are happy when the second half of the day is more concentrated on schoolwork rather than what you had gotten up to last night. You didn’t want to keep reliving being outnumbered by the poachers and just barely getting out without being too injured. The fear in the hippogriffs’ eyes haunted you. It reminds you that what you did was right, but they had still attacked you after you unlocked their cages. Sitting at dinner, you gently touch the bandage on her face and wince. 
“If it hurts, you probably shouldn’t touch it,” Lily says. “Or go see Pomfrey again. I’m sure she’d love to patch you up more.”
“Going back is admitting defeat,” you say definitively. 
You wouldn’t go back, not even when your bandages need to be replaced. You know that the boys have plenty of bandages in their dorm and you could use some of those. You worried that Pomfrey would handcuff you to a cot and place a charm on it so you couldn’t escape. You were determined to not be held captive to the nurse. 
You fold gravy into your mashed potatoes until they turn a gross shade of pale brown. Your whole body had started to ache during the last lesson of the day. The pain is stronger than your hunger and all you want to do now is sleep. However, you weren’t dumb. Your friends would have cursed you into next week, or at least taken you to Madam Pomfrey, if you hadn’t shown up to dinner. You sigh as the plates in the middle of the table clear and replenish with desserts. Nothing looks appetizing. You force yourself to swallow some of the potatoes so you could claim that you did have some dinner. After a few bites, you resume swirling the soft mush around your plate. 
“Darling, you done?” Marlene asks, standing up across from you. 
You look up, noticing that a fair amount of students had already left the Great Hall. 
“I guess so,” you say. 
You walk back to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. Marlene seems to read your body language, which says you aren’t in the mood to talk anymore. Your face has a hardened look to it with your arms crossed over your chest. After giving the password, Marlene makes sure to hold open the portrait for you so it doesn't close on you. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t smile a little when you saw Sirius sitting on the couch with no one else. Marlene heads for the girls’ stairs, half expecting you to follow her up. Instead, you make a beeline for the couch and lay down, your head resting in Sirius’ lap.
“Hey Black,” you say, looking up at him.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” he asks, looking down at you. “I think you got as much sleep as I did last night.”
“So Remus says,” you reply. 
Sirius twirls some of your hair around his finger, something he had done hundreds of times before. Only this time, you see it as something more tender, all thanks to what Remus had said the day prior. It sent off butterflies in your stomach.
“Must’ve been some conversation you two had yesterday,” Sirius mumbles. “What else would keep you out so late?”
You scoff. “James being a prat. But it was some conversation. I think I needed to hear it.”
Sirius’ expression softens. 
“What did you need to hear?”
“It was… a reality check.” 
You pause, studying the look on his face. You are vaguely aware of the other people in the common room, but the way Sirius is looking at you could’ve convinced you that you were the only one in the entire castle with those grey eyes. Without saying anything to each other, you feel as if the only things you can hear are your breathing and the muted crackling of the fire not far from you. You reach up and tuck a curl behind his ear, revealing his multiple piercings that he’d gotten over the years. You notice his breathing hitch as your hand gently grazes his face. You smile at him. 
“So between the reality check and Mr. Bitchiness himself, I needed to clear my head.”
Sirius shakes his head with a soft chuckle.
“I think you should find a way to clear your head that doesn’t involve barely coming back in one piece, Potter.”
“I thought you called me pumpkin.”
“I thought you hated being called that.”
“I do, but I let you get away with it.” You gently poke the tip of his nose playfully. Your gaze briefly flicks to his lips before returning to his eyes. “You’re… special.” 
“That doesn’t look like a meter,” James’ voice calls, bringing you back into the noise of the common room. 
You can see your brother standing over the two of you behind the couch. His face isn’t quite murderous, but it was getting there. 
“She’s exhausted and in pain and you come swooping in?” James accuses Sirius. “I thought I told you to give her space.”
You sit up and glare at James, the tenderness of the moment with Sirius evaporated.
“Excuse you,” you say, a disgusted snarl creeping up on your face. “He did no such swooping. And you can’t tell people to stay away from me.”
“I’m your brother! It’s my job to keep people away from you,” he says, giving his friend a sour look. “Especially when I think they have immoral intentions.”
“Have you considered that I’m the one who came to him and not the other way around?” 
“Why would you?”
You blink. “Because he’s my friend?”
“He’s my friend,” James says.
You can’t stop yourself. You slap James across the face. You feel your own face burning and tears beginning to brim in your eyes. 
“I see you didn’t learn anything from last night, you git,” you spit at him. 
You stand up, leaving Sirius alone on the couch. He watches in silence as you turn to leave the common room. You slam the portrait behind you, earning a scolding from the Fat Lady about respect. The common room remains silent as Sirius looks up at James.
“Prongs, I swear, she came to me,” he says. “I was sitting here and she came to me. She walked in with Marlene long after we came back from dinner.”
“Whatever, Pads. Just keep your distance from her, like you said you would.”
Sirius lets his lips form a thin line as he looks away from James and back to the fire. Technically, he had never said he would keep away from you. James had just insisted on it. James sighs heavily, glancing at the portrait hole. He is glad that you didn’t go upstairs to change and grab whatever you would need to go out again, but you leaving in such a fury wasn’t ideal either. He turns and goes back up to their dorm. When Remus sees how upset James is, he immediately goes to check in on Sirius, letting Peter work on calming James down. 
Remus sits on the other side of the couch. Sirius is radiating an energy that said he needed a little bit of space around him. 
“Padfoot,” Remus says, speaking tentatively. “What just happened? Why is Prongs in a huff again?”
“He’s accusing me of trying to defile her when she’s not in her right mind.”
Remus isn’t a fan that Sirius didn’t look at him when he talked. He didn’t want his friend to stay up all night staring into the fire again. 
“Where is she?”
Sirius shrugs. “Slapped Prongs and left.”
Remus raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Sirius. 
“She slapped him?” he asks, trying to hold in some laughter. “Honestly, someone needed to and it’s good it came from her. He’ll forgive her.”
“Do you think he’d forgive me?” Sirius asks, his voice barely audible and eyes still not leaving the flickering flames. 
“Forgive you for what?” Remus asks cautiously. “Did you… defile her?”
Sirius scoffs. “No, Merlin… But… fuck. Nevermind.”
Remus scoots to the middle cushion of the couch. He places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius looks away from the fire. His cheeks are dusted with a faint blush. 
“Padfoot, be honest with me. How do you feel about her?” 
Remus’ voice is soft. It has a sense of pleading to it, as if begging Sirius to admit something he doesn’t want to, as if begging him to be more vulnerable in the middle of the common room than he has ever been before. Sirius just shakes his head with a frown.
“That doesn’t matter.”
With a harsh sigh, Remus tries again. “Prongs doesn’t matter right now. How do you, Padfoot, Sirius Orion Black, feel about her?”
“Like she is the most precious thing.” He closes his eyes and turns his face toward the fire again. “But Prongs does matter. So how I feel doesn’t. I need his friendship more than I need a relationship.”
Remus gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 
“Imagine if everything went right though… You and Prongs could legally be brothers.”
Sirius coughs in surprise at his words. Of course, he had thought about it from time to time. James was his brother in practically all ways except literally. You, being alluring as you were, were something different. You weren't a sister to him. What he feels for you isn’t what he would feel for a sister and it is certainly more than anything he has felt for any other girl. 
“Think about it, Pads, yeah?” Remus suggests, giving his shoulder another squeeze. “You think Wormtail has calmed Prongs down enough for it to be safe to go back up there?”
Remus glances toward the stairs. Then he looks back at Sirius, who has opened his eyes but stares absently at the hearth. 
“You said she left the common room? You don’t think she’ll be gone all night again, do you?” Remus questions, his voice having more concern than before. 
“She’ll be back… Although it might be better if I’m not down here when she returns…”
---
You spend the rest of the week avoiding James. You put as many people in between you as possible when you have to be near him. If he tries to talk to you, you either ignore him or speak to him through someone else. It pisses him off. You also take to avoiding the common room, being that he was often there. For once, you find yourself being furious that Remus and Sirius were James’ friends first and yours second.
Marlene sits down in the library at the same table as you, Mary and Lily. You are working on various assignments, books littering the tables. Marlene clears a small section for her to get out her own work. She shoots a wary look toward you.
“Black’s back on his bullshit,” she says, watching you for a reaction that you don’t give her. 
You keep your eyes on your Ancient Runes assignment.
“Who’s he snogging now?” Lily asks. She knows someone has to buy into the bait.
“Charity Burbage.”
“Didn’t realize she was his type…” Mary mutters. “Isn’t she a few years younger?”
“Fourth year, but she’s… mature if you know what I mean,” Marlene answers, giving her own breasts a squeeze.
“Alright, we get your point,” Lily says, cutting her off. “Remember that we’re here to do homework, right?”
You just scoff and keep working. Hearing that Sirius was off snogging a busty fourth year rubbed you the wrong way. You keep thinking back to what Sirius had said and what Remus had told you about him. You think about how Sirius had been the one waiting up for you to come back that night you got into the fight with James. You don’t want to imagine Sirius sucking face with a younger girl, but the image keeps appearing in your mind. It makes your blood boil. 
“Potter, you good?” Mary whispers from across the table.
You look up at Mary and then back down at your paper. There were various splotches of ink where you had been holding your quill and lightly tapping it. You sighed in annoyance. 
“Guess Raltmole is getting subpar work again,” you groan. 
You look over at the assignment sheet again and force a smile. At least you were on the last question. Once you answer it, you could make an excuse to leave. You hurriedly finish and begin putting your stuff away.
“I’ll see you lot later.”
“Going back to the common room?” Lily asks, not looking up from her own assignment. 
“Yeah,” you lie. You had no intention of going back to Gryffindor Tower and risk running into James. 
You make your way up to the astronomy tower. As you climb the stairs, hot tears sting in your eyes and begin to fall. You have never been so glad to find the tower completely empty. You sit down near the edge of the platform. The cold air feels nice as you feel like you are overheating. Your mind is spinning with thoughts of Sirius. You hate that you had admitted to Remus that you had been harboring feelings for Sirius for years and everything you had buried so deep inside of you had been brought back to the surface. You hate that your friends feel the need to bring up whoever they saw Sirius kissing. 
As you look over the horizon, lost in your thoughts, you hear a string of swears from the stairs. You don’t look to see who it was. It isn’t a Gryffindor and that’s all that really matters to you at this moment. When the boy reaches the top of the stairs, he immediately spots you at the edge of the platform. He swears again, having hoped the tower would be empty, but then he notices you shuddering and hears your sniffles. 
“Is this where everyone goes when they’re upset?” Barty Crouch Jr. asks, taking a step towards you, unsure of how you felt about having company. He had wanted to be alone so maybe you did too.
You turn your head to look at him. Your face is flushed and eyes red. Tears streak your face. Barty decides that you look too pitiful to leave alone. He sits down next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the platform and leaning backwards. 
“Misery loves company, doesn’t it?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you.
You smiled softly, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Depends on the company you keep.”
“Well, I came up here to be alone.” He kicks his legs in the open air. “But you’re not a Slytherin so I’ll give you a chance.”
“And you’re not a Gryffindor so I won’t ask you to leave.”
He chuckles and gives you a half smile. “Lions and snakes can be too much from time to time.”
“You can say that again. … What’d they do to you?”
“Evan… He’s hiding something from me and it’s not good. He needs to let me in, but it’s hard to convince him when everyone, Black, Snape, Avery, Wilkes, tells me to drop it. God forbid I try to be involved in my boyfriend’s life…” Barty sighs. “Everyone ganged up on me, even Pandora.”
“Didn’t know you and Evan… Rosier?” 
“Yeah, Rosier. We don’t make it a habit to snog in the corridors like the other Black.”
You grimace. The other Black was your issue. 
“What?”
“The other Black…”
Barty’s eyes widen. “You and him? I thought I heard he was…”
“We’re not,” you cut him off. “Which is why I’m up here.”
“I need a distraction from Ev… What’s up with that little blood traitor?”
You glare at Barty. “I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to be like that.”
“Sorry, habit. What’s the other Black up to?”
You shake your head and adjust so your legs hang over the edge too. You sniffle again and blink away tears that threaten to stream down your face again.
“How am I supposed to know if he likes me if I keep hearing that he’s going into a broom closet with a new girl every other day?”
“You like him?” Barty asks. “Of course you do. Just about every girl has a fantasy about him.”
You scoff. “Every girl… Yeah. That’s part of the problem. He all but told me that I’m the reason he’s snogging every girl in our year. And yours. And then some.”
“You’re the reason?”
“Something like James would kill him if he touched me so he touches everyone else.” You roll your eyes and lean forward into the metal railing. “And then Remus goes off and says he’s fairly certain that Sirius really does like me in the way I like him. And James constantly acting like I need protection from his friends. And every time I think I’ve collected myself and reburied my feelings for Black, Marlene and Mary come around and talk about who they saw him with.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”
“Your stupid problem is better than thinking about mine. I know Ev will be cooled off when I get back and we’ll be fine. Your problem is… more.”
“Do the Slytherins think Sirius has some checklist of every girl he needs to snog before graduation?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Not that I know of, but I’m around Reg a lot and we don’t talk about his brother in front of him unless we have a death wish.” He pauses. “Poor wording because some of us do… We don’t talk about him.”
“Hmm… It’s definitely a topic among Gryffindors. Obviously.”
“He’d never be able to finish it.”
You give him a confused look as you sniffle again. 
“You and that redhead. The one your brother and Snape are obsessed with.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, Lily would never kiss Sirius. Even for a dare. She’d rather do just about anything else.”
“And I call that a success!” Barty says with a smile. “Got the crying girl to laugh.”
“That you did…”
“May regret asking this, but what set you off? Why are you here now? Sounds like you’re just eternally pining.”
“Marlene said she saw Black snogging Burbage.”
“She’s younger than me.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah.” You sigh and feel tears fall again. 
Your mind keeps telling you it was stupid to be jealous over a silly fourth year, but it was unfair. Barty notices you starting to cry again.
“Come here,” he says as he puts his arm around you. 
While he and Evan would fight, he hoped they would never make each cry like this. The girl he had only ever seen as a force to be reckoned with was reduced to a puddle of emotions. You rest your head on Barty’s shoulder. It gives you a little bit of comfort to be hurting with someone else.
---
“She’s where with who?” James yells in their dorm. 
When the girls had returned from the library and asked if you were in their room, they were met with confused stares from the boys. They hadn’t seen you since dinner and they had been in the common room all evening. While the girls shared looks of minor confusion, the boys shared looks of worry. The boys had immediately gone up to their dorm and opened the map. Each scanned a different section, looking for your name.
“She’s in the astronomy tower with Junior,” Peter repeats. 
“Is she trying to get herself killed?”
“You seem far more concerned about her being with Junior than you did with her going off to fight poachers,” Sirius mutters, going to sit on his bed. 
James turns to glare at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Just questioning what, or who, you think counts as dangerous.”
“You damn well know that Junior is dangerous,” James growls. 
“Oh, I do know that, Prongs. But I’m not. I’m not a threat to her.”
“We aren’t talking about this right now, Padfoot. She is actually in danger right now!” 
“Should we be concerned that their names aren’t moving?” Peter asks, still looking at the map. “Neither one has even shifted so they aren’t walking around or nothing.”
The two boys look over at Peter, anger fading from their faces and being replaced with fear and concern. 
“That’s it. I’m going to get her,” James announces, moving for the door before Remus stops him.
“Like hell you are,” he says firmly. “In case you’re more dense than I think you are, you’re not her favorite person right now. I don’t think it’s wise that you go.”
“Then who’s going to go? Can’t really ask Lily to go fetch her without explaining the map.”
“Padfoot, you go see if she’s okay,” Remus decides. “Just… don’t overreact to whatever you’re walking into.”
Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips out of the door behind Remus, shooting James a gloating face. Once the door is closed, Remus lets James go. 
“Tell me how Padfoot is going to handle that situation better than I would,” James demands. 
“First off, you would walk in and blast Junior off the tower. Don’t act like you wouldn’t. And like I said, she is still angry with you. You going would only make things worse between you two,” Remus starts to explain. “Second, it would’ve been best if I went, but then I’d be leaving you and Padfoot alone and I didn’t feel like returning to a blood bath.”
James frowns, although he could see the logic behind Remus’ actions. He doesn’t need to ask why they didn’t send Peter; he didn’t have what it might take to get you away from Barty if it came to that. 
Sirius’ stomach churns when he sees Barty’s arm around you. You appear to be willingly leaning into his side. You are sitting at the edge of the platform, legs hanging over the edge and resting against the bars. Keeping quiet as he lingers in the doorway, he can hear you having a whispered conversation. You were sniffling. After a few minutes of watching them and feeling sick, Sirius makes his presence known.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he says softly, causing both of them to jump at the sound of his voice. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
Barty glares at Sirius. They had never gotten along, especially with Barty being one of Regulus’ closer friends. 
“Piss off, Black. We’re having a conversation,” he spits, still holding onto you although it was a looser grip. 
You had turned your body and propped one of your legs up on the platform. You wipe your nose and sniffle. Now that you were looking at Sirius, he could see that your eyes were red and puffy from crying. 
“Everyone can piss off, actually,” you say, voice shaky. “They can handle a night without me.”
You let your leg fall back over the edge as you turn back to looking over the horizon. Barty follows suit. Sirius walks closer to you and sits down only a short distance away, resting his back against a pillar. 
“Well, I’m not going back without you. So, carry on. I’ll walk you back when you’re ready.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head, not that Sirius saw either. 
“Black, I would’ve thought by now you’d be able to tell when you aren’t wanted,” Barty says, venom dripping from his words. “Get out of here before I make you.”
“Last I checked, she was more my friend than yours,” Sirius replies. 
“Guess you haven’t checked recently.”
Sirius narrows his eyes at Barty as his arm pulls her waist closer to his. 
“Guess fate is being extra cruel tonight,” Barty mutters to you and you nod in agreement. “I’m going to be fine, but are you?”
“Eventually, I assume,” you say. “I just feel defeated, and that doesn’t help.” 
“What did I do?” Sirius asks, knowing that he was what you were referring to.
You and Barty look over at him. 
“The fact that you have to ask…” you sigh with a sniffle. 
“Do you want me to go?” Barty asks.
“Yes,” Sirius answers.
“I wasn’t asking you, Black,” Barty snarls. “Potter? I’m not leaving you with him unless you ask me to.”
Sirius gapes at Barty. The Slytherin seemed genuinely concerned to leave you alone with Sirius, someone you had been alone with many times before. He doesn’t understand why people weren’t trusting him to be around one of his friends. He didn’t think he had done anything to earn that. 
“Stay,” you say.
The one word hits Sirius hard. He feels like he is going to throw up. In what world would you be asking Barty Crouch Jr. to stay? 
“What the hell, love?” Sirius asks. 
You shoot him a hurt look. “Burbage? Really?”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair.
“Is that what this is about? I thought we talked about this.”
You let out a cold and empty laugh. “We talked about this? No. You were just incredibly cryptic about some feelings you may or may not have as you let James run your life.”
“So you get with Crouch?”
You and Barty look at each other and make faces of disgust before slightly pushing away from each other, as if suddenly becoming aware of how close they actually were. 
“We… no. Absolutely not,” you stutter.
“I don’t… I’m taken,” Barty says. 
“He is,” you confirm with a nod.
You scoot back from the ledge, still sitting much closer to Barty than you were to Sirius. Barty does the opposite, leaning further over the railing and slumping like a rag doll. Sirius looks from one to the other. 
“Then what is this?”
“One upset person comforting another?” Barty offers.
“And you’re upset?” Sirius challenges, not quite believing him.
“You don’t seem upset nor are you comforting Potter. So that would leave me being the other upset person. Yes.”
“Whatever. Darling, can we go?”
“No?”
“Hey, come on.”
“No.” 
Barty gives you a wary look. Then he stands up, moving slowly toward the door.
“I’m going… to go. You two… need to talk.”
“Barty, no,” you plead. Your eyes looked ready to cry again. “Please, stay.”
“No, bye bye Barty,” Sirius says, standing up. 
Sirius claps Barty on the shoulder, walks him to the doorway and makes sure he leaves. Then he walks over to you and holds out his hand. 
“Come on, darling. Let’s go.”
You don’t take his hand. You spin where you sit to face away from him. Whenever he moved to be in front of you, you’d spin again. You know you are acting like a stubborn child, but you feel that you’ve earned that. He allows you to act like this for a few minutes before he gest tired of it.
“Pumpkin, come on. If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to go back and James will come get you.”
You make a disgruntled face and finally take Sirius’ hand. 
“What did Junior mean by we need to talk?” Sirius asks as you walk toward the stairs. 
“The Marauders need to get their shit together,” you say, not looking back at him and starting to descend the stairs. 
Sirius follows you, picking up his speed to stay just one step behind you.
“So it’s not just me?”
You stop abruptly. Sirius bumps into you and you have to grab onto the railing to stop yourself from falling.
“Prongs needs to keep himself in check. He needs to stay in his lane. Moony needs to stop getting a girl’s hopes up. You need to go after that one girl you like and stick to her. I’m tired of hearing about a new girl’s tongue down your throat every day.” You pause. You had brought their friend group’s name into it so you had to name everyone. “Wormtail… uh, needs to be less of an idiot. Get him a real sense of humor or something.”
“And you told Junior all of that?”
“Yes.”
You walk the rest of the way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Sirius isn’t sure what to say that would make you feel better so he settles on silence. You still sniffled a few times, but they were getting less frequent. You seem to be more furious now than sad, which was something of a win. When you enter the common room, you both keep walking to your individual dorms. You go straight to bed, closing the curtains around so that no one will bother you. Sirius is met with James, Remus and Peter anxiously waiting. 
“Took you damn long enough,” James says as soon as Sirius walks through the doors. “What did that bastard do to her?”
“Gee, no Thanks Padfoot, thanks for getting my sister back safe and sound?” Sirius mocks. His mind is still stuck on what you had said to him about all of them. He sighs. “If what they both said is true, they simply talked. She was crying; he comforted her.”
“What was she crying about?” Peter asks. 
Sirius makes eye contact with Remus. It seems like Remus knew immediately what she was crying about, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of James.
“Coudn’t get it out of her,” he lies. 
---
You follow the girls around Hogsmeade on Saturday. You don’t really care where the group goes and you are able to mostly drown out their conversations. Your brain is empty. It is easier for it to be empty than to think about everything that made you cry the previous night. 
Mary, Lily, Marlene and her girlfriend, Dorcas, carry their own conversations and manage to stick together as a group all day. They don’t seem to notice that you are in your head. They just make sure that you are still tagging along, not left behind anywhere. 
“It’s good to get out of the castle for a good, safe time,” Mary had told you this morning when she insisted that you come instead of rotting in bed all day as you had planned to. 
The group is heading back into Hogsmeade Square from Dogwood and Deathcap when they run into the Marauders in the cemetery. No one questions why they were messing around the tombs. With them, it is better to just accept it and move on with your day. The boys insist that they all go to the Three Broomsticks and end their day with as many butterbeers as they could drink. You, being determined to not talk to any of the boys, pinch the bridge of your nose as the girls enthusiastically agree. Lily hangs back as the boys lead the way to the pub.
“We could probably sneak back to the castle,” Lily mutters to you as you follow the group at a short distance. 
“So you’re delusional,” you reply. “James will most certainly notice you’re gone.” 
“They would notice you’re gone too… Don’t think I haven’t taken note of how quiet you’ve been.”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place,” you hiss. 
Lily reaches out to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers. “Well, we can suffer through butterbeers together. And then rot in our beds tomorrow.” 
“Lily Evans doesn’t rot,” you snort.
You allow the girl to pull you into the Three Broomsticks after your friends. They somehow managed to push two tables together to accommodate their large group, which is an impressive feat given how busy the pub always was when students visited the village in troves. It doesn’t take long for Madam Rosmerta to get foaming mugs of butterbeer in front of everyone. The group sat divided by gender at the table. You made sure to sit on the same side of the table as James so if you accidentally looked down the table, you had a near impossible chance of making eye contact with him. It helped that he was at the complete opposite end of the table. Although Lily had said you would be suffering through butterbeers together, she is quickly engulfed into an animated conversation with Dorcas, Remus and Peter. Mary and Marlene were listening intently, but didn’t offer much to the conversation. James and Sirius appeared to be in their own world at their end of the table. You were content ignoring everyone’s conversations. 
You slowly sip on your drink, looking around the pub. A handful of Slytherins are sitting at a table in the corner. You somehow manage to catch Barty’s eye and you share a small smile. Next to him sat the blond Evan Rosier and he was throwing back drinks and laughing loudly. You could see what Barty saw in him. There was a certain lightness to him. 
“Mind if I sit here?” a voice asks, bringing your attention to a boy standing at the end of the table with a chair in hand. 
“What?”
You recognize him from classes. Davey Something, Ravenclaw. You never really paid him any attention. 
“Can I sit here? All my friends went back to the castle already.”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Davey, right?” you ask, pulling your mug closer to you.
He sits kitty corner to you, despite there being empty space across from you. You assume that he didn’t know that no one was sitting there. 
“That’s my name,” he replies with a smile. 
He glances down the table to the rest of the Gryffindors and Dorcas. None of them seem to notice or care that someone new has joined their table. 
“Anything interesting going on in Gryffindor Tower lately?” Davey asks, returning his gaze to you. “Most interesting thing to happen in Ravenclaw is a fourth year beat a seventh year in Wizards’ Chess.”
You chuckle and take a sip of your butterbeer.
“Oh, there is always something happening in our tower,” you say. “I slapped James. Argued with him in front of the entire common room. Sirius pulled an all-nighter for no reason. He’s also been snogging anything that moves in a skirt.”
Davey’s smile dips slightly. “Been snogging you?”
“No,” you say with an eye roll, before chuckling as you continue. “James banned him from being within a meter of me for that very reason.”
“That what you argued with him about?”
“Part of it. He’s been acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I had a simple chat with Remus and James threw a fit.”
“He got pissy because you were hanging out with his mates?”
“Yes! That’s also why he got slapped. Those were two different days…” You pause as you glance down the table. “And from what I can tell, he’s still on his bullshit.”
“Definitely is bullshit,” Davey agrees. His brilliant blue eyes looked deep into your eyes. “I think the whole castle knows how capable you are at handling yourself.”
“Do I really have a reputation of more than being the female Potter?” you ask, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, darling, you do.”
“Tell me about it.”
You take a drink of your butterbeer, draining it. Rosmerta is quick to bring around another one and one for Davey as well. You hadn’t noticed that he didn’t have a mug in front of him previously. 
“If you didn’t have Sirius or James as your perpetual dueling partners, you’d have trouble finding one in Defense class. You’re.. too good. It’s almost scary.”
You smile widely with a faint blush on your cheeks. You knew you were good at dueling. That’s why you went off to fight poachers when you knew where they were and didn’t bother buying potion ingredients that could be gathered if you ventured a little further than teachers normally approved. You had also been told by many teachers that you were exceptional at dueling, but hearing from a decently cute boy did something to your ego. 
“From what I’ve heard, you’re amazing in every subject. We don’t have many together anymore. But when we were younger, I remember seeing you taunt James whenever you got a better grade than he did… which was pretty often.”
“What’s the point of having a twin if you can’t be better than him,” you laugh. 
“Are you better than him at quidditch?”
You groan at that question. “No…”
“Darn. I was hoping you could make the Gryffindor team better.”
You lightly hit Davey’s shoulder playfully.
“Gryffindor is a damn good team!”
“Your seeker is trash!”
You take a second to think about who your seeker is. 
“Isn’t he a second year? Cut the kid some slack!”
Davey laughs. “But if he’s the best that tried out? I’m doubting the captain’s skills.”
“Too bad that isn’t a James diss. For some reason he wasn’t made captain this year, but he was last year. Quidditch politics baffle me.”
“I’d try to explain them, but I think they differ by house.”
“You’re not on Ravenclaw’s team?”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who are.”
“James likes to make it his entire personality so I’ve become fairly good at tuning it all out. There are better things to focus on.”
“Yeah? What captures your pretty little brain?”
“During the summer and over breaks, I’m a top-tier chef and baker. I honestly don’t know what my parents eat while we’re at school because I literally make every meal when I’m home.”
“You cook? Isn’t that what house elves are for?”
“Not everyone has, or needs, an elf,” you say firmly. “But, like, cooking is good for distracting my brain. Although I could be better in Potions…”
“You’re in N.E.W.T. level Potions. I’m sure you’re fine,” Davey assures you, placing his hand over yours on the table. “What else do you do besides dueling, cooking and looking beautiful?”
You feel yourself blush more. 
“Merlin, this sounds nerdy, but I really do love learning about obscure magic. Haven’t gotten my hands on any good books yet this year because they are usually deep in the Restricted Section and Pince has been watching it like a hawk.”
“Obscure magic? Very Ravenclaw of you.”
You were trying to not look at his hand that was still on yours. His gaze is fixed intently on you. You have all of his attention.
“I plan on either being an Auror or an Unspeakable after school so a deep understanding of magic is important.” 
“Look at you. Big ambitions.”
You look down at your empty mugs. You aren’t entirely sure when either of you had finished your drinks but apparently you had. You cast a quick glance down the table as well. You don’t know why you are relieved that no one was paying attention to you, all completely engulfed in one large conversation now. 
“Want to get out of here?” you ask, looking back to Davey.
He smiles widely at your suggestion. He stands up and pulls out your chair to help you up.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers into your ear. “Lead the way.”
You take Davey’s hand and you head for the door. You make sure to bump into James’ chair. 
“Oops,” you say with a giggle before pulling Davey out of the pub into the autumn evening. 
James and Sirius watch you leave with equal looks of distaste.
“Where’s she going?” Sirius asks.
“Better yet, who the fuck is she with?” James follows up. 
The rest of the table turns to look but the door has already closed behind you. Despite wanting to follow them, Sirius and James return their attention to the group’s discussion about whether the foul smelling liquid from Gobbstones would cover up the smell of Amortentia. They hadn’t discussed the potion in class yet, but they had heard of the powerful love potion. 
You and Davey walk around Hogsmeade, weaving in between buildings. There’s easy conversation between you, nothing too deep or heavy. You can tell by the way he looks at you and lets his touch linger that he’s looking for something more, but conversation feels so platonic. It feels like two acquaintances getting to know each other, which is what it was. You can’t deny that Davey’s attractive, but there’s no draw to him besides a little bit of attention and maybe some revenge aimed at Sirius and James. You find yourself in the garden outside of the village, walking up to the platform that overlooks the Black Lake. The distant glow of Hogsmeade lights it up just right so it feels far more romantic. As you lean over the ledge, you wonder if Sirius’ method of snogging someone else helps you get over them. Looking at Davey, or his lip if you’re being precise, you debate giving it a shot. 
Then there’s a burst of noise that makes both of you jump and look over your shoulders. You can barely see the Three Broomsticks and the herd of people leaving it. It isn’t hard to tell that they are arguing. You can pick out James, Sirius, Lily and Dorcas’ voices. Both of you stare for a moment before looking back at each other. 
“What do you think happened after we left?” he asks. 
You shrug. “Not sure.”
“Don’t be rash!” Lily yells.
“I’m going to kill him!”
“James! Slow down!” Dorcas yells.
“When I find them, I’m going to kill him!” 
“And I’m helping!” Sirius adds.
“Like hell you are,” James resorts.
“There!” Marlene exclaims, her voice sounding more cheerful than the others. 
You turn to look at Davey nervously when you notice that Marlene is pointing in your direction and the group begins running. James and Sirius shrug off Lily and Dorcas’ grips on them as they tried to hold the boys back. The two are in a full on sprint with the rest of the group jogging behind them. It appeared that they came to the conclusion that none of them could outrun them. 
“Gudgeon, step away from her,” James snarls once he reaches the platform. 
Davey raises his eyebrows at your brother. “Why?”
“Because he bloody told you to, you git,” Sirius adds, heaving from running. 
“But why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to fully face them. “He came out here with me.”
“And you’re coming back with us,” James says. “Been a long day, time to go home.”
You hum and look at Davey. 
“I think I want to stay out a little longer.”
Davey smiles widely at you and then looks back at James and Sirius. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.
“You boys heard ‘er. She wants to stay.”
“James,” Lily warns as the rest of the group approaches.
She noticed before you that he had started to reach for his wand. James looks at Lily. 
“Lils, you must-” he starts to say, but then Sirius is ripping Davey’s arm off of you and picking you up to throw you over his shoulder. 
Your yelp of surprise is what cut off James’ excuse to Lily. 
“SIRIUS BLACK, YOU PUT ME DOWN!” you holler, trying to remove yourself from his grip.
“Ready to go?” he simply asks the rest of the group.
“Yeah, I’m good,” James answers, much more calm than he had been moments before. 
Davey watches as Sirius carries you in the direction of the castle, followed by James and the rest of the group. Peter and Remus bring up the rear, shooting him glares for having gone near you. While the girls didn’t seem to approve of how Sirius and James had gone about getting you away from Davey or why they had, they do seem to support getting you back to the castle.
“Sirius, are you going to put me down?” you ask, sounding defeated.
“No.”
“Why’d you leave the group?” Dorcas asks, moving into your line of sight.
“Too loud and hot,” you lie. You weren’t about to say that you were looking for a pretty distraction from the irritation your brother and boy carrying you caused you. 
“Just talk to us next time, yeah? We’ll leave,” James says. “Afterall, you know the buddy system.”
“I had a buddy,” you correct him. “Davey is a just fine buddy.”
“A buddy who just wants to get into your pants,” Marlene sings. 
“Huh?”
“He’s just looking for a quick shag, darling,” Mary clarifies. 
“Which is why we came to your rescue!” Sirius says.
“Rescue or ambush?” you grumble. “Maybe I wanted a quick shag too.”
The rest of the walk back to Hogwarts is quiet. Your ribs have grown sore from being slung over Sirius’ shoulder and your head feels light. At one point, you close your eyes and just listen to the crunching of leaves underfoot. 
“Alright, down you go, pumpkin,” Sirius says as you arrive at the entrance to Hogwarts’ grounds. “Figure you can walk from here.” 
He puts you down gently and all you can do is glare at him. You walk slowly into the grounds and the group takes that as a sign that all is well. 
“Marls, come on. I got something for you in the dungeons,” Dorcas says, grabbing Marlene’s hand and pulling her toward the castle.
The rest of the group follows suit, picking up their pace to get inside the warmth of the castle. You, however, keep your slow pace. You certainly aren’t in the mood to be sitting with them around the fire in the common room after you were literally hauled back. Sirius is the only one who lingers with you. 
“You alright?” he asks quietly, bumping shoulders with you. 
You sigh and look up at him. Damn those grey eyes and how warm they make you feel.
“Just tired of James acting like he controls my life.”
Sirius nods and takes a deep breath. 
“Come with me,” he says and holds out his hand for you to take. 
You hesitate. Your mind is screaming both to take it and to slap it away. How dare he offer his hand to you after being the one to carry you back? But, also, he was offering it to you, giving you the choice to take it. So you do. You take his hand and let him lead you down some stairs to a secluded area near the greenhouses. Light shimmers through their windows, giving the small clearing a subtle glow. 
“I think James would back off you a bit if I stopped listening to him about some things,” Sirius mutters, standing in front of you. A gentle hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear and lingers there for a moment.
He’s looking at you like he did that day on the couch, like you were the only one who existed in all of Hogwarts, in all of the world. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to understand what he was saying. All of your focus was on the hand that softly held your cheek. He takes a step toward you and before you can process anything, his lips are brushing up against yours. It’s soft and gentle and momentary. 
“I think I can tolerate him more if you do that again,” you mumble.
And he does. The second is still soft and gentle, but it lasts longer. It only deepens slightly when he places his other hand on your waist. Sirius is holding you with a featherlight touch like he doesn’t want to break you, but his hand never leaves your cheek. Inside, despite what you just said, he fears that if he lets go, you will disappear and leave him. 
“You could never be a checked box. Because you’re everything,” Sirius whispers.
“Then stop with your stupid list, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
"Good, because I think I like this a little too much."
1K notes · View notes
chestersturniolo · 3 months ago
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“They don’t fuck around”
~ dealer!chris ~
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
You wake up to the faint sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric. Blinking in the dim light, you roll over on the couch to see Chris hunched over, stuffing things into his backpack. You don’t say anything yet, just watching him move with purpose, his jaw clenched and his eyes sharp.
You stretch, the blanket falling off as you sit up. “Chris?” you ask softly, your voice still thick with sleep. “Where are you going?”
He barely looks up, tightening the straps on the bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “I got a deal ma-” he says, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. “-big one”
You feel a pang of worry but push it aside. It’s nothing new—this is just a part of his life. A part of your life. “Can I come?” you ask, sliding off the couch and padding barefoot toward him. “I’m bored, pleaaase” you whine, sticking your lip out like a child asking for candy.
Chris stops what he’s doing and looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He steps closer, cupping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up. “Not this time baby”
“Why not?” You can see something heavy behind his eyes, something he’s not telling you.
His thumb brushes against your lower lip, and he sighs. “This one’s different” he says, his voice low, serious. “These guys I’m meeting, they’re not like the usual. They don’t fuck around. Guns, the whole thing-” He pauses, his grip on your chin tightening just a little. “-If something goes south, I can’t have you there. I won’t risk that”
His words hit you like a cold wave, and suddenly, you’re wide awake, nerves flickering in the pit of your stomach. “Chris...” Your voice falters. “…what about you?”
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, soft kiss that’s meant to soothe you, but it only makes the knot in your stomach tighter. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a murmur. “I’ll be fine, ma. I’ve done this before. You just need to trust me, okay?”
You nod, even though you don’t trust this feeling, you swallow the anxiety. “Okay” you whisper.
Chris pulls back, as he reaches into his pocket. “Here-” he says, holding out a thick wad of cash, rolled up tight with an elastic band. “-go out, spoil yourself, spoil your friends. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before you know it”
You stare at the money for a second before looking up at him. “Chris, I don’t care about—”
“I know…i know you don’t. But it’ll keep your mind off things. Go have fun. I’ll text you when I���m done” with one more kiss to your forehead he presses the roll of cash into your hand, and then he’s gone, slipping out the front door with a quick glance back, like he’s making sure you’re staying put.
You stand there, holding the cash, listening to the quiet of the apartment after he’s left. The usual calm that comes after he leaves for a deal doesn’t settle over you this time. Instead, a heavy, unsettling feeling lingers.
You toss the money on the coffee table and sit on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. Where you’ll stay, until Chris’ text comes through. 
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
taglist;
@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay
@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 
@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom
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misted-dream · 4 months ago
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BET YOU WANNA BE MINE ﹒⌗﹒🥀﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 재현 + fem!reader
in which . . . the last person you expected to show up in front of your door at midnight is jaehyun—your ex.
content&warnings | MDNI smut, profanity, mentions of dui, infidelity, angst bc exes, toxic themes (jaehyun is a red flag), oral f receiving, dirty talk, unprotected sex
word count | 3.2k
⋆.˚ . . . heavily inspired by roses by jaehyun of course
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12:01AM
a knock sounds at your apartment door.
your tired feet shuffle slowly through the dimness of your living room, with the warm glow of the kitchen light spilling over.
a shadow bleeds through the gap beneath your door, blocking the hallway light in two different spots.
with the chain still attached, you twist the handle, opening the door only slightly.
you tilt your head, angling yourself to get a view of whoever’s standing on the opposite side.
without hesitation, you press your palm to the wooden surface, pushing on the door to shut it. hard.
“wait!” a voice calls from outside.
his voice calls from outside.
and you notice the door, in fact, isn’t shut when it should be by now; a shoe wedging in between the frame.
your body stills for a second, despite the alarms ringing in your head.
“is he here?” he asks, meekly.
for whatever reason, you decide to respond, “no.”
the ‘he’ in question is your current boyfriend, whom the ‘he’ outside your apartment right now knows enough about to render that question needlessly rhetorical. and useless.
you push harder on the door, trapping his foot tighter between the wooden board and its frame.
“can i just speak to you? 5 minutes,” he pleads, “5 minutes is all i need.”
you know him well enough that if you were to say ‘no’ to his bidding here, it’d be easy to assume he’d stay the night in the corridor outside—and then you’ll actually be fucked if your boyfriend saw him in that state tomorrow morning.
you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.
“move your goddamn foot.”
he does what you say; a part of him scared that you’re just gonna shut the door on him, but relief comes in the form of you standing there, the door swung open, and you looking straight at him.
“speak.”
he licks his bottom lip, glossing over it lightly. the bright lights overhead highlights his cheekbones, sculpting his face like a statue.
“yn…”
“jaehyun.”
this is the first time—first time in 7 months that you spoke his name aloud and not cursed him in the same breath.
he staggers a step behind him, and you instinctively reach out. upon realisation, you pull your arm back.
jaehyun clamps his eyes shut, his nose slightly scrunching up as if he’s recalling something particularly difficult to say. “i really—”
“are you drunk?” the sharpness in your voice shoots him awake with his eyes opened.
“no,” he replies firmly and adds a shake with his head, “no.”
you sigh. “how did you get here?”
“i have a car.”
“you fucking drove—are you insane?” despite every conscious effort to not get close to him, you find yourself tugging on his arm with your hand, pulling him inside before he has a chance to collapse on the floor. jaehyun shows absolutely zero signs of resistance to this.
the door slams shut behind you two.
“sit down,” you utter, more like a command than anything. “i’ll get you some water.”
jaehyun is drunk; there’s no denying it. but not drunk enough to not know how to navigate your apartment even in the dark. perhaps, he has your history to thank for that.
he sinks down into your couch with you shortly appearing next to him with a mug in your hands that you cup his fingers over.
“thanks,” he mutters softly, taking a sip of water.
“don’t think your 5 minutes doesn’t still stand,” you watch him pointedly. a sudden impatience ringing in his bones, jolting his posture upright.
jaehyun sets the mug down on the coffee table. eyes looking up at you as you stand over him.
he breathes out deeply.
he drops his gaze to the mug for a moment, looking as though he’s contemplating his words carefully. the slight hum of your fridge being the only thing you can hear, and suddenly it’s a thousand times louder than usual.
meeting your eyes again, he leans forward.
with every beat of silence that comes, a hammering picks up in your chest.
his lips part, and the words that follow fall heavily. "i think about you."
air is knocked out of your lungs momentarily. you feel your shoulders drop.
"i miss you," jaehyun's voice is like a needle. feeble, almost undetectable, and aiming straight for your heart.
the stabbing pain that you felt more than half a year ago when you and jaehyun broke up returns. your heart dropping straight to your stomach, sinking and stirring around in the acid.
you can only scoff.
"stop fucking around," your tone harsh and your voice coarse. you fold your arms across your chest, regarding him with slight contempt in your eyes.
"i'm not," jaehyun counters, "yn—"
"no," you sternly shut him down. "this isn't fair, you know it isn't fair."
you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out, a result of the long suppressed, built up anger and resentment you held towards your ex.
“you were the one who broke up with me, jaehyun.”
jaehyun only looks at your face. his brows softened, knitting together slightly as he studies the expression on it.
“i know,” he offers in the way of a comfort. arms reaching out to you and holding your wrists in his hands.
if it wasn’t for the overtly complex prism of emotions inside of you right now, there’d be more aversion to his touch. but his skin on yours feels so familiar. it feels right. so much so that you allow yourself to be pulled closer to him sitting there.
maybe less allow, and more just letting your body move to whatever stimulus in a catatonic state.
you’re standing in between his knees, looking down at him, and the urge to fall right back into your once favourite habits emerges from the pit of your stomach. but your mind is clear enough to keep to your discipline.
jaehyun picks one of your hands up to his lips. gently, he kisses the back of it; a gesture way too intimate but you can’t bring yourself to stop him.
“i fucked up,” his voice is low and steady as he brushes his thumb across your knuckles. “i know i did, and i shouldn’t have.”
he runs his other hand up your leg, soft like a feather caressing you. and suddenly, it’s like you’re brought back to reality—the fact that this is actually happening and you’re allowing it to.
“stop,” you pull your hand away from his grip, “it’s too late for apologies, jaehyun.”
when you were together, every time his name fell from your lips, it sounded sheepish, like he’s some high school crush that you’re afraid to utter the name of. and this time, it’s none different.
he settles his hand on top of your hips. “i’m sorry,” he voices completely disregarding what you just said.
you shake your head, “that doesn’t mean anything.” there was a time where you would’ve given anything to hear this from him. except now, as bitterness has steadily been building in you, you’d much rather have him beg and plead for your forgiveness instead.
“i miss you,” he says again. his glassy eyes telling of his desperation, which is only amplified by him pulling your waist closer.
you put your hands on his shoulders, holding yourself away as much as you can. “i have a boyfriend,” you throw out weakly, as if even you don’t believe it to be a strong enough argument against the case that is jung jaehyun.
“and i never should’ve let you get that chance. to be with him.”
all the anger and resentment you still felt towards jaehyun just a few moments ago seems to have dissipated. you relax your arms, your body moving in closer to his.
your eyelids flutter over jaehyun’s features. he’s always been handsome, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this. under you, shadows casted on his face from your body, eyes dark with anticipation.
you fix your eyes on his, “i can’t do this to him.”
if you had known jaehyun would be coming, you wouldn’t have worn this particular pair of shorts. “i don’t care about him,” he says rubbing the bare back of your thigh with his palm.“this is about you. us.” jaehyun pulls your legs up onto the couch, sitting you on top of his knees.
his eyes glaze over you like honey, and memories of the two of you fill his mind. you have never been more beautiful than right now.
the tip of his thumb grazes the side of your cheeks, pushing your hair back. “tell me you don’t miss me, and i’ll leave.”
you stay in silence, completely enchanted with just a look from him that close to you.
“i thought so,” jaehyun admits lowly, like a whisper.
you can’t pinpoint where in the brief encounter tonight that jaehyun took control over the situation, but the thing is that he is certainly holding the reins.
he presses his lips on yours, gently at first, as if already savouring this moment for reminiscing later. as he feels you kissing him back, he pushes in deeper.
his hands slide your hips further down his lap. lips still interlocked, he kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his last meal.
he hums, mumbling against your lips, “i missed you so fucking much,” the vibrations sending a chill down your spine, “god.”
you catch a faint scent of his cologne, the one you bought for him ages ago.
“i need to taste you,” he pulls away from your mouth shortly, mumbling the words, “will you let me?” into you.
you peel yourself off of him, catching your breath and nodding. and if that wasn’t enough, you breathe out a shaky “yes.”
jaehyun picks your body up in his arms, laying you down on the couch with your head on top of the rest. you watch him hook his fingers into your waistband and pull your shorts down, an eagerness to his pace.
he looks up at your face through your legs, waiting for confirmation of any kind before he similarly pulls your panties down.
you give him a subtle nod, and the next second, your cunt is bare and exposed to him. instinctively, your knees press together, clamming your thighs shut.
“oh, baby,” he tuts, palms spreading your legs open for him again. “fuck,” he bites down on his lip, “i missed this pretty pussy.”
helplessly, you feel the heat underneath your skin bloom in your cheeks.
jaehyun runs the tip of his finger up your slit, letting out hums of satisfaction as he does so. you feel your back arch slightly just at the littlest of movements from him. you swear you catch a smirk from him before he starts sucking on your clit.
his tongue works up and down your cunt, covering it in a mixture of your own wetness and his spit. he moans against you, “i missed how you taste.”
your hands find their way into jaehyun’s hair, gripping tightly and trying to resist the urge to push him deeper into your cunt.
he laps his tongue over and over your clit, a finger dragging up and down your folds. he hums, “do you still like it like this, baby?” he pushes the tip of his finger inside of you, easing his way in from the slickness.
slowly, he drags his finger in and out of your cunt, swirling circles with his tongue on your clit at the same time. gently, he places his other palm over your lower abdomen, applying the slightest bit of pressure.
you can’t help your legs from squirming under him.
“oh, you do, don’t you?” his voice undoubtedly laced with an edge of cockiness. brash from the fact that he's convinced he still knows your body in ways that no one else does, not even your current boyfriend.
but you'd rather die than ever even consider affirming that.
you bite down hard on your bottom lip, keeping the whines you so desperately want to release inside.
jaehyun keeps lapping his tongue over your cunt tirelessly, pumping his finger smoothly into you. then, without warning, adding another digit, and another.
despite your best efforts, a small cry escapes you. nails digging deep into jaehyun’s shoulders as you feel yourself stretched out on his fingers.
“fuck, jae,” you feel him purr at your nickname for him
“yes, baby?”
you feel the tightening in your stomach, your legs threatening to squeeze shut. “i’m close,” you faintly manage in between soft whimpers.
“do it,” jaehyun murmurs, his voice muffled against you, “i need to see you cum again.” his fingers quicken their pace, “please. cum on my face, baby.”
you fight the urge to not give him what he wants, but truly, he’s too good at making you feel good. his palm presses a little harder on your stomach, tipping you that little bit over the edge as the pressure releases on his fingers. a blinding wave of dopamine flashes across your eyes, your walls clenched tightly around his fingers so much so that jaehyun struggles to move his hand.
jaehyun mutters as he watches you; eyes shut tight, back arched, and hands holding his face in place as you ride your orgasm out on him.
“mhm, that’s it baby,” he mumbles as you slowly come down from your high. “good girl,” he smirks before pressing a final kiss on your clit.
he crawls over your body, caging you inside his arms with his hands on either side of your shoulders.
your eyelids feel heavy, drooping low as you watch jaehyun push your hair away from your face. “you’re still the prettiest when you cum,” he smiles cheekily.
you barely manage to breathe out a breathy, “shut up,” causing him to chuckle over you.
“don’t believe me?”
jaehyun takes one of your wrists, pulling your hand down to palm the front of his jeans.
“you don’t even have to do anything—that’s how fucking hard you make me.”
you look down at your hand cupping over his bulge. then, back up into his eyes, fingers unbuttoning the top of his jeans. “what are you gonna do about it then?”
jaehyun laughs an unamused laugh, and you know too well what that means.
“baby, baby,” he gently shakes his head. “you’re going to regret saying that.” he unzips the zipper, pulling his boxers down until his cock springs up free from its confines.
the tip of it swelling red, precum leaking little by little at a time.
you feel your body tremble at the sight of his dick, even after all this time. the first time you had sex with jaehyun, you couldn’t walk straight the next morning.
he wraps his hand around his shaft, pointing its head directly at your cunt. slowly, he spreads his precum all over your slit—still sensitive from your orgasm. he drags his tip over your entrance, teasing you and enjoying every second of it.
your body writhes at this fleeting touch, the need to be filled up with his dick chipping away at your dignity.
“you want this cock, baby?” jaehyun brushes your cheek with his thumb, like he’s wiping away tears. “i’ll give it to you.”
he steadies himself with his palms firmly planted on the armrest.
then, in one swift motion, he thrusts his hips into you, the entirety of his length disappearing inside you. the sudden shock of it making you scream out.
"what the fuck?" you curse him with your head thrown back.
jaehyun only smirks before pounding into you again, harder this time, eliciting a groan of his own. "i missed how good you feel, fuck."
your fingers attempt to grapple onto anything within reach, but come up short. one of your arms swing itself over jaehyun's neck, drawing your bodies closer as he thrusts again.
the sheer size of him inside you makes you feel like you're being split open. you moan out his name, his hips bucking inside of you as a response.
"i forgot how well you take my dick," his arm buckles slightly under his weight, "isn't that right, baby?" jaehyun begins to build a rhythm with his thrusts, pumping deep inside you every time.
he leans down, connecting your lips together softly, "you're made for me."
his thrusts grows harder, ramming himself into you with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your womb every time. you're sure that it will probably bruise by tomorrow.
the filthy noise of his skin slapping onto yours echo in your ears, mixing in with his gravelly moans. "he can't fuck you like this, can he?" jaehyun spits.
your hand goes up to cover your own mouth, not wanting to let the almost pornographic noises out of you. this only causes jaehyun to pull it away, pinning your wrist to the couch.
"oh, i know, baby. he can't fuck you like i do."
it doesn't take much before you can feel yourself nearing another orgasm. so close, it's practically within reach.
"jaehyun..." you moan weakly.
"you're gonna cum again for me, huh?" he hisses, "how long has it been since he's fucked you properly? cumming twice for me first time i see you again?"
all you can focus on is your incoming orgasm. back arching into his chest, your hand struggling to break free from his hold.
"please," you plead, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
"you want me to rub your clit, don't you?" jaehyun mutters in between hitches in his breath.
you nod, your body verging on begging him for it.
a knowing smirk plays on his lips. "tell me you're mine."
you let out a whine, frustrated that you can't free your hand to do it yourself.
"do it," he orders, "you want to cum? say you're mine."
"fuck," you pant, struggling to keep a steady breath. your mind hazy with overwhelming carnal pleasure, "fuck, i'm fucking yours. i'm yours."
"now, how hard was that?" jaehyun grins before snaking a hand down to rub circles on your sensitive nub.
within seconds, you feel your orgasm unravel itself on jaehyun's dick, walls closing in tight around him.
feeling you tightening around his cock, jaehyun buries his face in the crook of your neck. your hand holds onto his back, nails sinking into the muscle across his shoulder blades. you hear his muffled moans into your skin as he cums, releasing his load inside you and filling you up full with his cum.
curses slip past his lips as the two of you catch your breath, jaehyun still stuffed inside you.
the ringing from your orgasm begins to quiet down, and you give jaehyun a couple of taps on the shoulder. gently, he pulls himself out, and the sudden absence leaves your body aching for it again.
his body collapses next to you on the couch.
"fuck," he mutters under his breath.
"that was fucking stupid," you confess out loud, now that your head isn't clouded by pure animal instinct.
to your surprise, jaehyun agrees. "yeah," his chest rising and falling rapidly.
he shifts his weight onto his elbow, propping himself up. "but what are we if not stupid?" jaehyun leans in, pecking your lips quickly and then doing it again. a stupid, stupid grin on his face that you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss.
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jellybonbons · 4 months ago
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Sweet Tooth or Sweet Cravings?
Kenji Sato x fem!reader
Summary: When a chocolate company sent Ken a PR package, he ate the chocolates without thoroughly inspecting them, and, well...things took an unexpected turn.
CW: 18+ (mdni), established relationship, aphrodisiac chocolates, implied panty sniffing, masturbation, fingering, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names.
Words: 1.5k
AN: this is just an excuse for me to write him like he's in heat :3
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Today 4:12 PM
Ken <3: can you come home? its an emergency
The moment you saw his text, your heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, you clocked out early and made a beeline for the parking lot. You had never driven so fast in your life, and you were sure you almost broke the gas pedal from how hard your heels were pressing on it. 
The city streets blurred past you, your mind racing with worry and a thousand scenarios of what could have gone wrong. You barely noticed the honking horns or the changing traffic lights, and your focus was solely on getting to Ken as quickly as possible.
As you reached Ken's home, you punched in the code with shaking fingers, and the door swung open almost instantly. You dropped your bag near the entrance, not caring where it landed, and stumbled inside, quickly sliding off your heels as you hurried to find him.
Rounding the corner into the living room, you saw Ken from behind, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. "Ken, are you ok–" The sight caught you off guard. There he was, panting heavily, glistening with sweat, eyes half-closed as he stroked his cock. It stood proudly and flushed in a deep red colour. His other hand clutched your panty from this morning.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to–fuck,” the moment he saw you, his body tensed, and with a guttural moan, he finally came, his cum coating his hand and abdomen.
As he sprawled against the couch, you took a moment to look around the living room. Your eyes landed on a box of half-eaten chocolates on the coffee table. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the box and examined it closely. The label read "Aphrodisiac Chocolates" in a small, elegant script. Realisation dawned on you, and you couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. Ken had unknowingly consumed aphrodisiacs, and now the situation made a lot more sense.
You sat down next to him on the couch, eyes wide with concern. "Ken, what the hell? Are you okay?"
"I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this... I think I overdid it with those chocolates."
"Those weren’t just chocolates, were they?"
"No, they were aphrodisiac chocolates. I didn’t check the label...clearly, I should have," he growled, frustration evident in his voice as he discarded your panty from his hand.
"Yeah, I can see that. It’s obvious they did more than just satisfy a sweet tooth," you smirked, leaning closer, your breath teasing against his ear.
"You’re not helping, you know." His eyes narrowed at you, a mix of frustration and desire burning within them.
Before you could respond, Ken, overwhelmed by the effects and your teasing, pulled you down onto him. He ground his hard-on between your thighs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he tried to find some relief.
"Ken, what—" You gasped, your voice filled with surprise.
"I need you. Right now. Please, help me." His voice was husky and urgent, his need unmistakable.
You lost track of time, the sky outside turning dark as the house became dimly lit. Your clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had taken you on every possible surface – from the coffee table to the expansive living room window overlooking the ocean, and now on his bed. 
He didn't hesitate for a moment, his desire insatiable. Somehow, he even managed to feed you the aphrodisiac chocolates during heated kisses, deepening the intensity of your connection with each touch and taste that seemed impossible to quench.
"Baby," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He had your hands pinned against the headboard, his grip firm and unyielding. His chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, as his fingers delved into your wet cunt, moving with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless.
The squelching sound filled the room, adding to the erotic symphony that drove him even harder. Your back arched with every expert stroke, each thrust of his fingers hitting the perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Ken, wait!” you gasped, feeling a strange pressure building within you. “I feel like I’m gonna pee.”
He didn’t falter for a second, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm. “Just let go, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. “The sheets are already dirty anyway.”
His words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers broke down your resistance. With a cry of both pleasure and relief, you let go, your body trembling as you squirted, the sensation overwhelming. Ken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to work you through it, his fingers drenched in your release.
“Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. “Just like that.”
As Ken finally released your hands, you let them slide down, resting them beside you—the dampness of the wet sheets clinging uncomfortably to your skin, causing you to grimace. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the rapid pace of your breathing, and allowed yourself a moment to regain composure.
Ken, still insatiable and eager, looked at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice rough with need. You, sore and spent, protested weakly, “Baby, I’m so beat... I don’t know if I can handle much more.”
He silenced your concerns with a reassuring smile and a quick, decisive movement. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he said, his tone filled with confidence. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on his lap, your legs spread and held against your chest. He manoeuvred you into a perfect angle and guided his hard cock to your still-sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, Ken, too deep!” you cried out, your voice trembling as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Saliva dribbled from your lips, a testament to the intense pleasure and exhaustion.
Ken's voice was a low, teasing murmur against your ear. “But you love it when I go deep like this,” he cooed, his tone dripping with mockery. He squeezed you closer, his grip firm and possessive, restricting your movements and trapping you in place. 
The way he moved, controlling every motion and maximising your pleasure, made you feel like nothing more than his personal plaything, his fleshlight. Each powerful thrust sent your breasts bouncing. Your head leaned back against him, the sensation overwhelming as his movements were both demanding and dominant, ensuring you felt every inch of him, leaving you breathless and helpless under his command.
Finally, with a guttural groan that reverberated through the room, Ken’s body tensed, and a shudder ran through him as he reached his peak. His hot cum spilling deeply inside you, a wave of warmth that filled you completely.
He collapsed against you, his breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps as he buried his face in your hair, staying fully inside you. As he caught his breath, he managed to joke through his ragged breaths, “I think I’ll have to give that chocolate company a review —'5 stars for effectiveness!'”
You weakly slapped his arms, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips despite the fatigue. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, barely able to muster the energy to respond.
He then gently shifted his position, moving his hand to cup your chin and guide your face towards his. His eyes, soft and tender, met yours as he leaned in to press a gentle, affectionate kiss to your lips. 
Pulling back slightly, he whispered with a teasing smile, “But you love me.” 
“Unfortunately.” You responded with a playful sigh.
You were scrolling through your phone during lunch, your thoughts drifting as you ate, when a familiar company caught your eye. You paused, intrigued by a screenshot of a review with the username Notkensato07. The review was under a popular chocolate company, and as you read the lines, you couldn’t help but groan.
Notkensato07: ★★★★★
"Absolutely incredible! I tried the aphrodisiac chocolates and they were so effective, my girlfriend’s still recovering. If you want a taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of chaos—this is your go-to. 5 stars, but if I could give it more, I would!
⤷ 241 replies
g0urmetguru: More than 5, huh? That’s some serious praise. I’m curious, how long did the effects last? Asking for a friend 😉
sillysocks76: IS THIS KEN SATO?
ChefRemyDaRat: Wow, talk about a rave review! If it’s that good, I’m buying a box for sure 🔥
chocolateroses: LMAOOO! I hope your girlfriend’s recovery is going well, man!
SweetToothSteve: Wow, this sounds wild! I’ve heard aphrodisiac chocolates are hit-or-miss, but this sounds like a game-changer. Guess I’ll be adding these to my shopping list!
jellybonbons: Nah, that’s cap.
  ⤷ chikinuggie: You’re just salty because you got no hoes.
   ⤷jellybonbons:  (comment removed for harassment) 
     ⤷jellybonbons: Wtf? why is my comment removed n not chikin for bullying?!
      ⤷ chikinuggie: The truth hurts, doesn’t it?
        ⤷ SweetToothSteve: Alright, kids, play nice! 😂
Shocked by the boldness of his review, you yelled out his name in disbelief, “SATO!”
Ken, who had been skipping around the living room as part of his exercise routine, froze mid-skip. The sudden outburst made him lose his rhythm, causing him to trip over his own feet. 
“Oh shit!”
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Dividers by: @/chilumitos
2K notes · View notes
charlotteking23 · 4 months ago
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Pairing: Lando Norris x bride! reader
summary: they are getting married and Y/N surprises Lando by having a nap scheduled into their wedding day 🤭
Requested: yes anonymous
Warnings: Lando being horny and first time writing social media au.
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You sat outside the balcony taking in the light breeze and sunny weather. On your lap lay your laptop, which overflowed with a million events for your perfect dream wedding.
Looking at all the events, you made space for an hour's nap. You knew that wasn't enough to keep you awake, so you could only count on coffee.
But nonetheless, you were looking forward to getting married to the love of your life Lando.
It was no secret you had both been head over heels for each other especially Lando.
You decide to go inside after looking at all the food you were to serve to the guests.
The apartment was open with a nice large kitchen and a big living room with a TV, covering the walls and shelves were some of Lando's achievements in F1.
You watch as Lando appears on the other side of the living room before giving you a hug.
"Hey, baby...were you working on the wedding?", Lando said before taking the laptop out of your hand and setting it on the table beside him.
"Just some final touches", you shrug before sitting on the couch.
"Can I see", Lando grinned taking the laptop already. You only nodded in response watching him open your laptop.
You watch his green eyes scan over the laptop in concentration, making sure to get every detail about the schedule.
"hmm...Baby what is this hour nap time", Lando pointed at the laptop in confusion.
"Oh Lan, you know how I love my sleep," You said laying down on his lap as he moved the laptop a little so it didn't hurt you.
"Yes baby", he smiled.
"Well, I needed my nap time," You said closing your eyes.
"During our wedding", Lando laughed at the schedule, which only made you annoyed.
You sat up quickly, "Yes Lando, I must have the nap time unless you want me to be cranky". You looked away mad at Lando laughing at you.
"Sorry for laughing, but now you are my baby", Lando smiled but it only confused you.
"What...What do you mean??", you said questioning his weird sentence.
"Because a baby needs nap time so I can call you baby wife", Lando laughed at your mad face.
"It's not funny", you said before grabbing the pillow from behind you and throwing it directly at Lando's face.
Only for him to throw it back at you and that's how the pillow fight started with you and Lando throwing pillows at each other before, breaking out in giggles with you both on the floor tired and a mess of pillows around you.
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liked by Landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 1,938,267 others
yourusername: officially Mrs.Norris 🧡
View all 10,864 comments
Landonorris: My beautiful, amazing baby wife
yourusername: Stop calling me baby wife but I love you>3 Landonorris: Never, Love You too❤
Landonorris: you could beat me up and I'd thank you
Danielriccardo: SIMP 🫵 User1: Stop their so cute
Landonorris: WOOF WOOF
Oscarpiastri: Congratulations, good luck with Lando
Landonorris: I thought we were friends
User2: Can Lando fight
carlossainz55: no he can't Landonorris: stop telling everyone I can't fight Carlos carlossainz55: but it's true mate
User3: I don't want Lando, I want Y/N
User4: I want both
Yourfriend: Congratulations!!
User5: Mother is Mothering
alexandrasaintmleux: Loved being your bridesmaid wishing you both a happy marriage, love you 🩷
Yourusername: love you too 🩷>3 Landonorris: what about me charlesleclerc: 🤔🤔🤔
Kellypiquet: Looking so beautiful, P loved being the flower girl 💐
Yourusername: thank you and P was so cute 🥰
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liked by yourusername, McLaren, Oscarpiastri, and 3,987,478 others
Landonorris: To my perfect wife, you make my life complete and put up with my bullshit and I cannot wait to love you forever and ever.
And Yes that's a picture of Y/N sleeping on our wedding day ❤️
View all 12,531 comments
Yourusername: Awww Lando WTF is this, I told you that was my nap time. 😴
Landonorris: Hehehehe
Mclaren: Congratulations and Lando leave Y/N alone
liked by yourusername
Landonorris: But she's my baby wife
Username6: Ms.Rabbit has fainted
Username7: Ms.Rabbit has fainted again.
Username8: LOVE THE DRESS
Username9: THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!
maxfewtrell: Congratulations Lando so happy to be your best man and prayers for Y/N for being able to deal with Lando.
Landonorris: What do you mean, I am an absolute angel 😇 Username10: LMAO Lando and Max
Charles_leclerc: Congrats Mr and Mrs Norris.
Yourusername: You were only invited because of Alex
Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux
Landonorris: It's okay Charles, Y/N's only jealous of our relationship 👨‍❤️‍👨 Carlossainz55: What about us! Did our relationship mean nothing to you 😭
Username11: Best Couple award goes to the Mr and Mrs Norris
Username12: HOW DOES SHE LOOK SO PERFECT EVEN WHEN SLEEPING!!!
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and 976,453 others
Yourusername: DJ Norris in the house!!🔥
View all 9,572 comments
landonorris: who is that handsome fellow your kissing, he's looks so fine 🫦
Yourusername: 🙄
charlesleclerc: My eyes, keep it pg there are kids here
maxverstappen1: yeah you 🫵
Username13: how much alcohol was digested for Lando to act like that
danielriccardo: Lando always acts like an idiot Mclaren: I feel bad for Y/N Landonorris: WTF
Landonorris: My baby WIFE looks so hot, my god I want you right now!!
Landonorris: break me, use me, please
Oscarpiastri: Zac said you are banned from using social media
Landonorris: you looked so sexy, baby 🥴
Oscarpiastri: I am scarred for life now Yourusername: look what you did to our poor child charlesleclerc: he's my child, I adopted him Yourusername: Not anymore!! 😒
Username14: Lando is so funny
Username15: And the horniness continuous
francisca.cgomes: Girl you look hot, LUVE YOUU!!
Yourusername: LUVE YOU TOO!!! 🩷
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liked by Yourusername, carlossainz55, and 2,628,765 others
Landonorris: Don't worry guys I got my phone back from Mclaren 😄. If anyone was wondering Y/N is fine but she passed out in the middle of the road, way past my baby wife's bedtime😴.
View all 15,382 comments
Yourusername: I'm just a girl 🎀
Landonorris: 😒
danielriccardo: Photo creds where?
Username16: Only Y/N would do this
Username17: She's love's her sleep Username16: probably more than Lando
maxverstappen1: I'm surprised Lando can carry Y/N
Landonorris: I am strong 💪 carlossaniz55: sure mate sure
Username18: seeing Lando being made fun of by Carlos and Max is hilarious.
Username19: Y/N passing out on the road was not on my F1 bingo
Username20: it was on mine
Yourusername: I told you to stop calling me baby wife
Landonorris: but it fits you so well 🥺 Yourusername: really are you making that stupid pout again Landonorris: No.....Yes, pleaseeeeeeeeeeee!! Yourusername: Ugh fine 🙄 Landonorris: good because your name is officially Baby Wife Norris 😁
Username21: giggling and kicking my feet seeing how cute they are😊
Username22: I am too single to be here
Landonorris: OH MY GOD
Landonorris: I want her to wrap her legs around my head😫
Mclaren: LANDO, we have a meeting tomorrow about you getting PR trained! Landonorris: oops hehehe 😁
1K notes · View notes
bwskj · 1 month ago
Text
NSFW MDI | jjk x reader
- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -
chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki
notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written
tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
gojo
— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”
— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”
output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “you better lick this clean off, baby.”
nanami
—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)
—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.
— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”
output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.
sukuna
— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?
— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”
— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”
output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”
“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.
your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”
long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”
megumi
— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).
— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”
— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.
— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s
— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.
— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached
— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.
output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”
yuuji
— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.
— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”
— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)
— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”
— (“freaked you out?”)
— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”
— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)
— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”
— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)
— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)
— (“so what about that audio?”)
— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers
— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”
output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.
“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.
there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”
“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“
your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”
yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”
you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”
Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”
it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.
after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.
it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.
“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.
his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.
it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.
yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“
yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.
yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”
you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”
he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”
inumaki
— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)
— “?”
— “how do i make that?”
— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to
— “…”
— “okay…”
— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”
— (“??? baby pls no?!)
— “thank god”
— there’s a pause in the chat
— “i would send if i could.”
— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)
— “no… um”
—(“?”)
— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”
— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)
— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”
— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)
— “sure?”
— (“yes for sure TT”)
— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”
output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”
—— <3
a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe
also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)
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lumibuns-blog · 2 months ago
Text
Simon Riley x reader
Idk what to call this but I made a fic where Simon "Ghost" Riley falls for Johnny's female roomie cuz it's been clanking around in my head for days. Also now I can finally use the time I've spent in the UK having to listen to stupid slang and banter to use💪
Also reader is a girl that's like a main plot point👍Okay enjoy!
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"Ya sure this is okay mate?" Kyle asked, slightly apprehensive as he entered the apartment
"'Course it's okay!" Johnny beamed, closing the door behind them "asked 'em 'forehand anyway"
Simon just grunted and started to remove his boots. The boys had a week off from being stationed at base and though most would use this time to go home and visit family, that option wasn't really in the cards for the three.
Kyle's family had gone on vacation, he had grumbled something about "lef' me 'ta holiday in the tropics". And Simon...well his family situation was...something, so Johnny had very graciously offered to host them at his apartment for the week. Just one problem, he had forgotten to let his friends know the roommate he lived with was a girl. Not only that, but he hadn't actually checked to see if you read his last minute message. Not that he had actually had the foresight to ask if you were okay with 2 men you had never met sleeping in your apartment for a week. He texted something along the lines of "omw back" quickly followed by "bringing the boys with"
You had been napping and hadn't seen his text, and you were too groggy as you woke up and shuffled to get dressed to even notice the sounds of footsteps in the front room.
"Just set ya shite by the couch 'fer now" Johnny commented as he walked into the open kitchen
Simon took a moment to scan over the apartment. There were the obvious signs of Johnny's presence scattered all around the room. A couple of empty chip bags, an X-box with the wires of the controller's tangled into one big mess, his army green sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, his preferred brand of cereal stood haphazardly on the counter, even those stupid Crocs he bought a year ago were by the front door. But something felt off, he knew his friend lived with a roommate but there was something strange about the other items in the flat he couldn't put his finger on.
A hairbrush was set on the coffee table, the cups that he caught a glimpse of as Johnny opened the cupboard seemed a little too nice, a small tube of hand lotion was set on the counter, and a pair of shoes that seemed a little too small and a little too clean were (unlike Johnny's) placed on the Ikea shoe rack by the door.
Kyle's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, "thought ya 'ad a roommate soap? Where they at?"
"They're 'ere" Johnny chimed, closing the fridge door with his hip and pouring himself some juice "probably just in 'they room" he took one sip from the glass "hold on lads let me get 'em"
He rounded the corner into the small hallway and disappeared from Simon and Kyle's line of sight. Kyle looked over to the blonde, who had (for once) forgone his usual balaclava in favor of a simple black face mask, Simon just shrugged.
They heard the turning of a doorknob at the end of the hallway, the hinges squeaking as it began to open.
"Aye come out 'ere a sec-"
A high pitched, startled noise could be heard before..."JOHNNY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GET OUT!" your voice rang through the apartment clear as day.
Simon and Kyle's head's whipped around to face each other, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in Simon's head. Johnny's roommate was a chick.
"Sweet Jesus! Sorry lass didnae know ya were 'gon tae changin' in 'ere" Johnny blurted out apologetically.
"YEAH THATS WHY YOU KNOCK FIRST DUMBASS!" you continued to berate him as he stood in the door way with his hand covering eyes.
"Well how the 'ell was I 'sposed know what'chu was doin' in 'ere?" he fought back
"MAYBE BY NOT BARGING IN HERE OUT OF NOWHERE?!" Your voice strained with frustration and embarrassment
There was a brief moment of silence before-
"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" A small thud could be heard as one of your shirts collided with the side of his head.
"Okay, okay I'm goin'!" he closed the door "creepin' Jesus..." he sighed
He slowly rounded the corner back into the kitchen, holding your oversized T-shirt in one of his hands. He looked up to see the gobsmacked faces of his two friends
"Wot?"
"Could've at least told us 'yer rooming with a girl" Kyle muttered, looking sheepishly towards the tile floor
"Thought I mentioned that?" Johnny said plainly
"Well, ya didn't" Simon grumbled, pausing a moment before continuing "she certainly seems...spirited"
"Nah 'hat's nothin', you should see 'er when I eat 'er scraps" he smirked "just 'bout killed me last time"
Simon couldn't help but notice the glass Johnny had poured earlier, it seemed to be some sort of fruit juice cocktail, something his friend probably wouldn't have bought for himself...
"Well-" Johnny swung his arm out dramatically as he attempted to fill the silence. Yet in that moment, the bra that, unbeknownst to you, had been tucked within the shirt he was now holding, flew to the floor.
"Shit-" Johnny went to quickly pick it up as his two friends respectfully averted their gaze from your undergarments.
"Wait..." Johnny paused to look up at the both of them "is it weird fer me to go grabbin' at it?" He asked in full honesty
Disappointed looks are what greeted him,
"Mate-"
"Bruv..."
They heard your door open suddenly and all embarrassment was forgotten as your roommate quickly picked up the bra and folded it back into the shirt before setting it on the counter
"Seriously man what were you thinking? Going to have to get a lock if you keep this up. Anyway what were you-" you stopped as you rounded the corner to find not only your roommate, but two other large men in your living area.
"Oh!" You started "Hey..." you trailed off apprehensively
Simon and Kyle both got their first proper look at you. A tight tank top clung to your figure and loose sweatpants hung from your hips, your hair haphazardly tied up with strands poking out in every direction. It then became clear to them at that moment you had not been expecting any company.
Kyle cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself, but his friend beat him to it
"These are the lads 've told ya about" Johnny began with a boyish grin, gesturing widely to his two friends, as if he was showing them off.
"From work?" you questioned
"Yup"
You then looked back to the two men in question and they both instinctively stood up a bit straighter "Ghost and...Gaz? Right?" you asked, pointing from one to the other, tilting you head in a way that was undeniably adorable to all three of them.
"'hat's us" Kyle responded brightly "Soap 'as talked 'bout you but I never caught ya name"
You gave it to them with no hesitation, before turning to Johnny "soap?" You teased, cocking one eyebrow
"It's ma' call sign lass, didnae be makin' fun of it now" he shook his finger in your face
"Yeah sure it is" you brushed him off before your eyes met the cup on the counter, you slowly turned back to him,
"What did I say about drinking my shit?!" You questioned with an accusatory tone.
"Is' just a glass" Johnny whined
You delivered a a harsh slap to his bicep "if you're going to be drinking it tell me so I can buy more, I'm tired of runnin' to the store every other day" you sighed
You moved through the kitchen closer to Simon and Kyle, opening the fridge and scanning its contents before turning to the both of them "I'll be going out, you two want anything?" You asked
They both just looked at you completely speechless and slightly confused.
"What? I assume you are probably going to be staying this week while that idiot" you gestured with your thumb to Johnny "has time off, so ya want anything from the store?" Your intuition had to be applauded.
"No we're jus' fine" Simon finally spoke. His deep voice, though not shocking, still made your hair stand on end.
"Alright then" you clapped your hands and maneuvered yourself through the small space in between the two men, a shiver ran down their spine as your front and back brushed against each of their sides, respectively
"I'm going to the gym then I'll hit the store on the way back" you say over your shoulder, grabbing your shoes "you need anything Mactavish?"
"Get some-"
"-More of the juice and the butterscotch crisps?" You finished his sentence for him and he waved his hand dismissively "you're so predictable" you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips
Simon watched as the Johnny's mouth began to form a smile of his own "I 'ave to do the washing, you got any thing ya need cleaned?" He threw back
"Lights or colors?"
"Lights"
"Then wash that shirt I threw at you"
The wicked smile now fully formed on Johnny's face as his friends watched on in surprise and burning embarrassment.
"What 'bout this 'ere?" Johnny teased, now holding your light blue bra up for everyone to see, pinching one of the straps as if it were contaminated
"What are you-" Simon and Kyle watched the confused expression on your face turn into horror then very quickly into undeniable anger
You stormed back across the flat and snatched you bra from his hand "John Mactavish you disgusting little prick" you growled "I am going to kill you one of these days and let me promise you, it will be slow" you leaned over him and pointed a finger in this face, your hight difference forcing him to bend over backwards slightly.
You threw your bra back in your room and quickly stomped back to the door "I'll be back in a couple hours" you called over your shoulder "do me a favor and kick his shit in while I'm gone eh?" You smiled towards Simon and Kyle before shutting the door behind you.
A moment of silence fell over the three,
"So how long has she been 'aving to put up wit' yer ass?" Simon asked plainly
"Little over a year now...-- oye? Whatchu mean 'put up wit' me' I'm a delight to live with"
"Clearly" Kyle rolled his eyes
"Too bad she's got such an attitude" Johnny sighed "she'd be a bonnie lass if she quit yellin' all the damn time"
"I'm sure you give her plenty of reasons to" Kyle groaned and Simon just nodded in agreement
"Ay haud yer wheesht" Johnny bit back "'member who's puttin' you lads up for a week"
The banter continued but Simon could agree with his friend on at least one point, you were bloody stunning. He just couldn't get the quizzical look you had given him out of his head, nor the way you had said his call sign so plainly. 'What had soap told you 'bout him?' He really couldn't help but wonder, wonder and pray it was the good stuff. Though knowing soap, it probably wasn't. His call sign had sounded so sweet when it came from your lips, he needed to know how it would sound when you called him by his given name. What sort of faces would you make if he poked fun at you like soap did? what if he were to be sweet to you? Did you cook? If so he needed to taste it immediately. What kind of expression would you make when you're all relaxed? How would it feel to take those pouty, pursed lips against his own and-
'Nope nope nope', Simon physically shook the thought from his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. You were his friends roommate and who he would be living with for a week, he had to be respectful.
"You good mate?" Gaz asked
"Fine" he replied flatly
He couldn't really understand why but he wanted you to get home from whatever you were doing immediately, it was like a burning fire had suddenly started inside him and it could only be dowsed by seeing you and having you close to him.
Johnny knew that look in his Lieutenant's eyes, recognizing the faint emotion they betrayed
'Damn smitten bastard' Johnny huffed before showing them where they would be sleeping.
Uhhh I probably will make more for this soon so stick around<3
@yumethefrostypanda for the visual I used🫶
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months ago
Text
suguru is too well-mannered for his own good.
when you walk into his living room, a lidded paper cup in hand, he’s seated on the couch. right in front of the coffee table, his fingers tapping the keys of his laptop, a series of clicks filling the open air.
he’s just as beautiful as always. light shines in from the veranda, through parted curtains, licking along the contours of his face; illuminating his face lines, soft crows’ feet by his eyes. he’s got his hair tied up into a messy bun, raven locks and silver strands, only slightly grayed, some of them tickling the back of his neck — behind a pair of reading glasses, his eyes narrow in concentration.
you can see his age, like this, but also not at all. he looks younger than ever, with the sun as his gown.
suddenly, he raises his head, meeting your adoring gaze with his own; two pools of amber, always warm, like they were made to reflect sunlight, made to pull you in. his lips curling up into a fond smile.
but your gaze strays down to his hands.
big, steady hands. hands that always find their way to the dips of your waist, or your shoulders, or the top of your head. reaching out to pinch your cheek, to soothe your headaches after long lectures, to mend and mold any lump of clay you place into his waiting palms — guide it into whatever shape he pleases, with those skilled fingers.
when you think of suguru, you think of pottery. you think of something beautiful, and there he is.
and he’s holding a cup.
as you step farther into his line of vision, hungry for a proper look at him, you can’t help but notice it. painted a deep, dark green, his favorite, but the shape is all wrong — uneven, not nearly polished enough, rough around the edges. when he puts it back down on the table, it wobbles.
(you visibly cringe.)
”hi, sweetie.”
that deep, honeyed voice tugs you back into reality, your gaze pulled up like a puppet on a string. suguru is patient, just taking you in, waiting for a response. there’s never any rush, when it comes to him. 
a shy smile blooms on your lips. 
”hi,” you echo, stepping closer yet; raising a hand, the one carrying the paper cup, swaying it lightly side to side. ”i got you a latte.”
”oh?” he lets out a soft noise, something like a coo, eyes blooming with fondness. ”chai?”
”mhm.”
his smile only grows. you watch him lean back, absently crossing his arms, thick muscles hidden under the turtleneck he’s sporting. when you take a step closer, eager to hand it to him, he stops you. 
”why don’t you give it a taste for me?” he asks, giving you a sweet tilt of his head. eyes soft and amused.
you blink.
after a moment, you raise the cup to your lips; taking a tentative sip of the brew. it’s hot on your tongue, a dash of pleasant spices, but mellow and sweet. just the way he likes it. you sigh out in bliss.
he only chuckles. ”how is it?”
”tasty,” you hum, licking your lips. holding it out for him to take. ”not too sweet, don’t worry.”
suguru accepts the cup with a smile, his thumb lingering on your hand for a moment, caressing the skin in a soothing motion. his voice a low, tender murmur. ”thank you, honey.”
(a warm feeling sprouts in your chest.)
”i’ll get you a cup next time i pass by a café,” he continues, taking a tentative sip of his own. he visibly perks up at the taste. ”what would you like?”
”you don’t have to!” you’re quick to assure him, blinking sheepishly. but, of course, he won’t have it.
”i want to,” he chuckles. ”you’ll make me very happy if you let me.”
there’s no use protesting, when it comes to things like this. when he gets like this. telling suguru not to take care of you is like asking the sun not to shine.
so you let out a sigh.
”i… want a caramel frappe, please…”
another little chuckle. his voice is soft, as always, like a coo is resting on the tip of his tongue. ”understood.”
suguru watches you, silently, for just a moment or two. you’re meeting his gaze with a shy pair of eyes, always a little flustered by his attention, his care. his sweet little baby bird, coming over just to give him something to drink. straight out of class. 
(you must be in need of some pampering.)
he pats his lap. ”come here,” he croons, parting his legs to give you space to take up. ”keep me company while i work. i want to hear about your day, sweetie.”
you blink, again. looking down at his lap, then back up at him, at the light catching onto the silver of his half-rim frames. he gives you a patient, closed-eyed smile — waiting for you to take your rightful place.
and you do.
his thighs feel solid, beneath you, big arms curling around your waist as you crawl into his lap. one hand goes to rest on your hip, the other on your lower back, cradling you close, secure in his embrace. you wrap your arms around his neck, legs draped over his thighs, leaning into his touch; inhaling the scent of sandalwood and tea leaves.
”… it was pretty boring.”
”oh, i’m sure you can do better than that.” he grins, brushing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans, an absentminded gesture. ”any interesting lectures?”
”uhhh…” 
as you take the time to think, recollecting your long and tiring day, suguru leans forward — reaching for the cup. the ugly one. pulling it closer, putting the ceramic to his lips, to finish whatever he was drinking before you came in. green tea, you assume. the sip he takes resounds in your ear, your eyes sticking to his fingers as he places it back on the wooden table with a clink — it wobbles again. 
you give it a look of silent contempt.
… a look suguru seems to notice. because his keen, warm eyes trail down to where yours are still resting, and then back up at your little frown. he raises a brow, but he’s still smiling, an amused curl of his lips.
 ”… what?”
a moment passes. you consider staying silent, but the nagging curiosity gets the better of you. avoiding his gaze, still glancing down at the cup in question, absently clearing your throat.
”you still… use that one?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. thinking that it should be stashed away in some forgotten cupboard, not out in the open — but maybe your boyfriend is just too polite to do something like that. 
suguru only blinks. ”why wouldn’t i?”
you give him a look.
he returns it with a look of his own; silent, coaxing, that one questioning raise of his brow. he pairs it with a gentle squeeze to your hip, knowing it’ll make you relent. and he’s right.
”it’s…” you part your lips, searching for the right word, frowning down at the little ceramic bundle of joy. with its bumpy texture, that awkward-looking handle, the uneven bottom layer. ”so ugly, suguru.”
”ugly?” he echoes, a spark of amusement in his amber eyes. but he sounds a little discontent, almost protective. ”now, now. beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my love.”
his deep voice buzzes in your ear, as he reaches out again, cradling the cup with one large hand. gazing down at it with a look you can’t quite place — so sweet it makes you shiver. out of the corner of your eye, you notice him giving you a pointed look. 
”… and i happen to think this cup is very charming.”
you can’t help but pout, shying away from his gaze. gnawing at your bottom lip, crossing your arms and resting your cheek near the crook of his neck, muttering under your breath. ”what’s charming about a cup that can barely stand…?”
”you made it,” he answers, simply, no hesitation in his voice. ”with your own hands and fingers. and you gave it to me.”
ever so gently, he grips your jaw; his pointer and middle finger tilting your chin to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. 
”… don’t you think there’s an awful lot of charm in that?”
(warm. his eyes look warm enough to fall into.)
a sigh slips past your lips. he gives you a soft tilt of his head, and you part your lips in pliant response. sulking. ”the ones you’ve made for me are so much better, though…”
you think of all the bowls, all the cups, the plates he’s given you — the same ones you use every single day, sitting tall and proud on your shelves, made entirely by him. in all kinds of elegant patterns, your initials carved at the bottom of every single one. he always gives you the ones he’s most proud of, after he’s finished with his classes.
… in comparison, yours is just…
”we don’t make art for needless comparison,” he shushes you, ever so fondly. ”there’s no end to that. we make it because it’s fun. my pieces aren’t better or lesser than yours just because i happen to be more experienced.”
when you don’t respond, suguru shifts — cradling you close, lifting the cup up to catch the light of the evening sun. it cascades down the ceramic, a mellow orange glow gliding across the green expanse. he watches it with barely concealed adoration.
”… this is my favorite one, you know. in my entire collection.” a joyous little hum buzzes in his throat. ”i’ve never made a cup i liked as much as this.”
you watch his expression change, eyes flickering with something soft and subtle, crinkled at the edges. his voice is nothing but sincere — coated in that sturdy, reliable tilt, like nothing he says could possibly be a lie. even if he tried, you doubt he could fake this kind of delight. putting the cup back down, as gentle as he can, as if it’s a cherished possession. he only looks more delighted when it wobbles a bit.
without thinking, the words slip past your lips.
”… i’ll make you another one.”
suguru’s gaze flicks down to meet yours. all bright and determined, your cheek squished against his shoulder, enough to make him want to coo. he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
”oh…? joining us in the studio again?”
”joining you,” you’re quick to correct, letting out a quiet huff. ”i… don’t want your students to make fun of me.”
a raspy chuckle leaves his lips. ”they won’t,” he assures you, a hint of pride in his voice. ”they’re much too well-behaved.”
”well-behaved around you, maybe,” you mutter, with a roll of your eyes. nuzzling against his jaw, frowning softly. ”… you’re coddling them.”
”i coddle you,” he purrs, with an affectionate squeeze to your hip. ”i don’t see you complaining, do i?”
”… that’s different.” 
the tiny pout on your lips makes him laugh. but he indulges you, always, all too eager to let you have your way. ”of course it is,” he coos, deep and teasing. ”how could i ever suggest otherwise?”
you fail to stifle a smile. feeling his skin against yours, his fingers rubbing absentminded patterns into your back, that soothing voice rumbling in your ear. when he leans down, to pick up the paper cup, you’re filled with a sense of purpose. you’ll just have to make a better cup next time — one that doesn’t wobble, with an smoother texture, perfectly symmetrical. one he can show off to his students and coworkers, the same way you do with all the pottery he’s given you.
suguru deserves nothing but the best, after all.
… what you don’t realize is that it won’t matter either way. even if you give him a better option, he’ll undoubtedly continue to use the cup he has now — with a sheepish little smile, and a sorry, honey. it seems i’ve gotten attached.
(… you suppose it’s the thought that counts.)
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