#and it's so good!! i can't wait to get my hands on the rest

[zepskies]

Awww yeahhh!! Again, I'm so happy you're reading this little Russell series--thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)! 🥰💕

I can't wait to dive into the rest of your thoughts on Part 1...

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

Aww I'm so glad you love her and Dory's friendship! They've become that "ride or die" best girlfriends, and Dory strikes me as someone mature enough to handle her best friend dating her formerly estranged brother. loll It really does take a lot! Which is why the reader is being so cautious about even going on a date with Russell. 😅

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Right?! That's what kept me watching, honestly. I still have so many questions, and even in this series I mostly go off of what we know so far in the show while exploring a couple of my own headcanons. Like you said, you can go in infinite directions with their family past, and even Russell's background!

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Oh yeah, definitely. Their mom is VERY SUSS as well. 🤔🤔

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

LOL you're spidey senses are correct. Charlie's a piece of work. 😬

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

Omgg but you killed me with that scaredy Dean gif from season 1. 🤣🤣 Like I said, Charlie's a piece of work, an addict, and unfortunately, lashing out at the one person still holding him down. 💙

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠 And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Ughhhhhh girl SAME. Stick a fork in me with a slab of butter, I'd be DONE.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

Omgg I'm so glad you caught that!! lmao

Oh yeah, that's catchy. I could so see that on a draft label. 😜🍻

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

That's definitely not all there is to Russell, so thank you for pointing that out! SO many Deanisms in Russ, but it was pretty clear to me from the get-go (and especially in 2x02) that this guy has an edge, and a lot of experience with the darker shades of the military, despite his bouncy charm lol.

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

Oh God yeah, she was mortified. 😂😂 I thought it would be understandable though, given what just happened with Charlie. 🥲💙

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

Ha, ikr! Maybe I'll flash back to that convo in a future ESC story. 🤔

Oh he dodges that real well, doesn't he? 😂 He's going to continue hiding that aspect of things with Colter (I have plans for another sequel story in the future), but he will get into the circumstances around his father's death with her later on...

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

We love a strong heroine, right? 😘 Plus, as the sister of an Air Force/military guy, I felt like Charlie would've taught her how to defend herself. But oh God yeah, Russell might've let his hand "slip." 😬

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

Aahahaa I had hoped that moment where he holds her hand would be a nice little Easter egg for people who read Smoke Eater. 😘❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

Clearly we have similar taste on this stuff, because girl YES. 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 Melts me every time I see/read it...

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂 And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

Bless his heart, he tried to make it sexy loll. And yeeep, not only does she want to tread lightly because he's Dory's brother, but she also isn't typically one for a fling, being an introverted nerdy type lol. Not to say that professors can't get down like that, but this character in particular is more the cautious type. 🤣��

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Aww thank you, friend!! I had so much fun writing their date lol. You already know they're gonna see each other again soon 😏 and your instincts are spot on as usual! Charlie's about to get himself into some trouble that he might just need some help getting out of... 😬😬

As always, reading your lovely, thoughtful and hilarious comments put a huge smile on my face! 😉💓💓

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ���awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ���

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[supercap2319]

So I just saw wicked and I desperately need something with Fiyero having his sights set not on Glinda but Glinda’s brother y/n

Y/N Upland always knew that he was different. From a young age, he realized that he didn't fit in with the rest of his family, and not just because he was attracted more to boys than girls. When he was born, Y/N was given the rare gift of ice and snow, bringing great promise to the Upland name.

His mother and father tried to turn his talent into something that would make Y/N think he was better than the rest of the people of Oz, but Y/N didn't want that. He just wanted to be normal. That's why he made himself scarce as much as possible. He dressed in normal clothing and he preferred to be alone, instead of playing with other children his age. Then came Galinda, the pride and joy of the Uplands. Galinda was beautiful and had a certain way of getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The biggest difference between Y/N and his sister… he chose books. She chose looks, and it was certainly working out better for Galinda than Y/N.

She was beloved by all in Gillikin Country. The one everyone thought would succeed, whereas Y/N, would be the first ever person to disgrace his family as the ‘Upland Freak of Nature.’ And maybe they were right. To an extent. The cost of powers always came with a price, and even though Y/N was powerful, he was very bad at controlling them. It was one of the main—if not the most important -- reason to attend Shiz University to gain a better understanding of his powers, and how to properly control them. Unsurprisingly, Galinda was also majoring in sorcery.

That's how he and Galinda arrived on a pink boat to Shiz University, Galinda practically bouncing with excitement. Her pink outfit was pressed and crisp as her nails. “Oh, Y/N! I simply can't wait to attend Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar. I just know I'm going to ace it.” She flashed pretty white teeth that hurt Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his sparkly blue cape over his shoulders. “I'm sure you will, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to help me with this.” He made a small snowflake dance on the palm of his hand before closing it.

“Of course, brosicle.” Galinda laughed.

Once they were close enough to the school, Galinda stood on the back of the boat and sat down on her luggage, looking like a queen on her throne. A few students in blue and brown uniforms waved to them as Galinda waved back. Y/N looked down at the water until they were docked. Stepping off the boat, Galinda and her ten thousand pieces of luggage were greeted by their mother and father at the docks.

“Oh, we're so proud of you!” Their father said, as he and their mother gave Galinda kisses. “Thank you. I love you. Just remember, it's not goodbye. It's farewell.” Galinda told them.

“We love you.” Their mother said, finally taking notice of Y/N. “Oh, and you too, sweetie. You'll be good. Probably not as good as your sister, but good enough.” She said.

“Wow. Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance melt my heart.” Y/N said, tone sarcastic.

Arduenna Upland looks at his son. “You make sure to look after Galinda, Y/N. See to it that she's comfortable, and well taken care of.”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you and mother again for the what? Sixtieth time?” He said.

“Just don't do anything to make trouble.” Arudeena said. He looks at Galinda and smiles with happiness and pride. “Have all your kisses? And you will write?”

“Yes. I love you. Sad time. Miss you already.” Galinda said.

“Popsicle board the boat.” Y/N said.

“They are going to miss me so much.”

“Us.”

“Right. That's what I said. Us.” Galinda said.

…

“Attention, students! It is my honor to announce that Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country will be filling out our student body. Having transferred from the Royal Winkie Academy. Please help him feel welcome. Without making direct eye contact.”

That's how Y/N and all of the student body at Shiz found themselves in the courtyard by the fountain, waiting for some spoiled Prince from Winkie country. Y/N to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as the Prince rode in on a horse. A blue horse. How original. Lines of male and female suitors were watching as the Fiyero walked passed, his black boots echoing against the ground. Some winked at him, while others twirled their hair in hopes of catching the Prince’s attention. He seemed unbothered.

Fiyero had light brown hair with blonde streaks on it. He wore a tailored navy blue suit with golden trimmings. He headed towards the bulletin board and asked a gawking male student to move as a faculty member checked out his ass. Y/N rolled his eyes from his position across from where Fiyero was. He has been studying with Madame Morrible and another student named Elphaba. He was currently reading a book about the history of ice magic in Oz as he watched Galinda swipe a book from a nearby student, and tried to pretend to be uninterested.

“Are you looking for something?” Galinda asked. She flips her blonde hair dramatically. “Or…someone?”

“No, I was…” Fiyero starts, but stops when his eyes look past Galinda and looked at Y/N.

Y/N frowns. Why was Prince McDimples looking at him like that?

“Sorry…what was I doing?” Fiyero asked.

“How would I know?” Galinda shrugged.

“Maybe it was that young man over there.” Fiyero smiles in Y/N’s direction. Galinda follows his gaze and frowns. “That's Y/N. My brother.”

“Brother you say? Well, I fancy I should meet him as well, don't you agree?”

“I guess.” Galinda pouted as Fiyero had eyes for Y/N, but her.

[ppssession]

Mystic Shop: The Good Forest (Soul Extraction Pill)

Agus lives in a small town near a forest. Although the forest is so beautiful that it attracts many tourists, Agus has lived in this town for more than 24 years and he is very bored with life in this small town.

He often went for walks in the forest, he met many people and envied them that they had a more enjoyable life than they had to live here.

One day, he was walking in the forest and he came across a mysterious shop. He was certain that this shop had never existed in this forest before. When he entered, a handsome young man greeted him with a smile.

He said hello to the customer, are you interested in changing anything?

Agus was a little surprised by the question, so he asked tentatively.

How did you know I wanted to change?

The clerk smiled before speaking confidently: Because our shop will only appear in front of those who want to change their lives. Our Mystic Shop can appear anywhere when someone wants to change, and of course in front of those who can pay us a reasonable price.

Agus was puzzled: But I don't have much money. You must have come the wrong way. Agus said scornfully.

The officer smiled again: Of course, we know that you don't have enough money to use our service, but because we run a special promotion for those who don't have much money and are destined to receive a change.

Agus looks puzzled. What is it?

Staff: It's a special contract. Most of our customers tend to abandon their original bodies, so we have come up with a special promotion for you to sacrifice your own body to get something better.

Better yet, this is the result of this promotion. The salesperson takes out a potion. A potion that will cause the soul of the eater to leave their body and take over someone else's body. You can take it, but you must promise us that if you get a new body, you will have to share 5% of the profit from the new body. You and your old body will be the rights holders of the Mystic Shop.

Agus agreed with the idea, he signed a contract to receive the soul-extraction drug, the clerk added, “That’s good, when you take the drug and get a new body, your old body will disappear and come to this store, once you become our customer, you will be able to know where our store is at all times, thank you for using our service.” As soon as he finished speaking, the store slowly darkened, when he came to, Agus was standing in the dark, at first he thought he must be daydreaming, but when he looked in his shirt pocket, he found the drug he had signed a contract to receive, he was certain that this was definitely not a dream.

Days later, he tried to find a body good enough to be his new body. Finally, he came across a cyclist who came into the forest near his town.

As he sat resting on the bridge, Agus took the pill. His soul floated out of his body and slowly floated towards it.

Agus' soul floated towards the young man, the soul entered the young man's body through the mouth of the young man's body, the soul of Agus penetrated the young man's throat, the soul's penis hardened inside the young man's body, the body twitched, the lucky young man's penis hardened in the tight cloth, now Agus' soul was filling every part of the young man's hand completely, the young man's body slowly moaned comfortably, fuck this is so good, Agus received the new body of this young cyclist.

Agus went to his old body and found it gone. “My old body, now I will live a new life as this young cyclist.”

He used his hand to stroke the new body's erect penis. "I can't wait." This forest is full of good things. Then he pulled out his hard cock and used it to reach his climax.

Yes, I like this feeling as the semen shoots out of his cock. He sees in the pocket of the biker boy that there is a lot of money. “That will be a good investment in my new life. Look, this money will help me to increase my comfort in my new life a lot. For the special medicine that can read memories that I secretly saw in the catalog in that shop.” He said while licking the semen that flowed all over his stomach.

จบไปแล้��สำหรับภาค 2 ของ Mystic Shop ซีรีส์นี้มานานพบกับร้านที่นี่

https://www.tumblr.com/ppssession/767568665915850752/whose-shop?source

[zegrasdrysdale]

hi!!! i’m a big sucker for secret relationships lol could you please do a matthew knives one where she is mitch marners younger sister and they have been secretly dating and mitch finds out in a bad way and it’s kind of angsty but then everything works out? thank you for your time!!

[ my little secret ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew and his girlfriend accidentally expose their entire eight month relationship after he gets hurt during a game, and Mitch isn't very happy about it

warning(s) : angst galore (but w a happy ending), mentions of injury, injured!kniesy, occasional use of y/n

author’s note : wanted to write something angsty and decided to knock out a request at the same time. enjoy and sorry this request took so long <33

༺═──────────────═༻

The game is going okay. Right now, the Leafs are up 2-1 against rival Boston. Her brother has assists on both Toronto goals while Matthew scored the go-ahead goal about halfway through the third. The Leafs defense is playing great defense and blocking shots from the Bruins. The forwards are keeping Boston from getting any momentum when they hop over the boards for each shift.

This is probably the best the Leafs have looked all season against a surging Boston team that struggled at the beginning of the season.

It's not long after Matthew scores the go-ahead goal that Boston begins to show some frustration. Their physical players begin to get a little more physical, laying more hits on the Leafs players. The Leafs are taking those hits like champs and some are returning the same physicality.

Until Brad Marchand lays a hard hit on Matt and he lands awkwardly on his outstretched arm. Her boyfriend curls up on the ice around the arm he landed on and a whistle is blown. A member of the training staff is immediately on the ice to look at Matthew.

She stands up with the crowd around her, hands covering her mouth as she waits for Matt to stand up. The crowd at Scotiabank Arena is so quiet, she should hear a pin drop from the other side of the stands.

It feels like an eternity later when Matt gets up on his own. The crowd claps for him, but she's too focused on the fact that he's holding his left arm close to his body. Mitch skates right behind him with his stick, which is hands to the equipment manager while Matthew goes down the tunnel.

With about five minutes left in the period and the Leafs up in the game, she makes her way down to the hallway that contains the in-arena gym, locker room, equipment room, and the athletic training room where Matt probably is.

She shows her credentials before she's let into the hallway. The horn on the ice sounds and the crowd cheers, signaling either a goal or a Leafs win. She's not sure how much time has gone by by the time she is standing outside the training room door.

After knocking lightly, she pushes open the door a little bit to get a look at her boyfriend. She sees Matthew on one of the tables half undressed. He only has on his shorts, socks, and skates. His gear is on the floor with his jersey and compression shirt.

The doctor notices her before Matt does. "Sorry, but you can't be he-"

"It's fine," Matt winces as the doctor presses on his wrist. "She's here for me anyway. Come on in, (Y/N)."

She steps into the medical room and walks up to Matt on the table. His doctor keeps pressing on and examining his wrist. He has Matt wiggle his fingers, tests his wrist flexion, and he finds the most painful points.

All while Matt winces in pain. A second horn goes off and the crowd above them cheers. The song that usually plays after a Leafs win starts to play, which means the boys will be making their way back to the locker room any second.

"Well, good news is that your wrist isn't broken," the doctor explains to Matt. "But I do think you have a mild sprain. I'd like to get scans done in the morning to confirm."

"And how long will I be out?" Matt asks.

"With rest and recovery, two weeks minimum," his doctor replies. "If you come back too early, it could be longer so I suggest staying off the ice until I clear you to return to practice. We'll come back and reassess a week from tomorrow once I confirm the sprain then come up with a plan to return to play. Until then, rest. I'll give you a brace you can use for the next few days."

Matt nods and the doctor walks off to find a brace that he'll use for a while. She intertwines her fingers with his as soon as the doctor has his back turned to them. He looks up at her with big, sad eyes. She frowns at the sight of a sad Matthew Knies.

This is a risky moment for both of them given where they're at, but she couldn't help but touch him and show him that she's here for him since she can't say anything right now. Not with the team doctor ten feet away from them.

The doctor turns around and she pulls their fingers apart. Matt holds out his injured wrist so the doctor can show him how to put the brace on. "How does it feel?" he asks Matt. "Not too snug?"

"Nope," he replies. "Comfortable."

"Good," the doctor says. "I want to see you back here in the morning for some x-rays and other tests to rule out breaks or internal damage. Okay?"

Matt nods and the doctor claps him on the back. He leaves the room, probably to go tell the coaching staff about his injury. Matt sighs and reaches to grab his compression shirt when he hops off the table.

She glances at the door to make sure no one walks in before she pulls Matthew into a hug by his torso once his shirt is on.

"I'm so sorry you got hurt, Matty," she softly says into his chest. "That hit looked bad. It could've been so much worse. I'm so glad it wasn't."

"I'm still benched for at least a week," Matt sighs. He runs his fingers through her wavy locks before he cradles her head against his body. "I'll be staying here while the boys go out on that west coast roadie. I was looking forward to some California sun after a few inches of snow over the weekend."

There's a hint of amusement in his voice, but she doesn't find it very funny. She peels her face off his chest and looks up at him. "It's not funny, Matthew," she tells him. "You got hurt. You avoided what may have been a season ending injury, but you still got hurt. None of this is very funny to me, and you're cracking jokes about missing out on the California sun."

He realizes what his words were and quickly becomes apologetic. "I'm sorry, baby," he says. "No injury is funny, even one as minor as mine."

"I thought you were really hurt, Matty," she admits. "When you were down on the ice. I thought that something was broken or torn while you were lying there. What if this was worse than a wrist sprain and you were making jokes about missing games?"

Matthew's healthy hand slides to cup her face. He rubs his thumb along her cheekbone and frowns. "I'm okay," he whispers to her. "I'm okay. Nothing is torn or broken or dislocated. It's just a sprain. It's not season ending and I'll be back on the ice in a week. It just sucks that I'm out at all."

She presses her face back into his chest and he engulfs her in a hug. He buries his head into her hair and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're okay," she echoes. "Thank God you're okay."

He softly hums into her hair. She looks up at him at the same time he tilts her head up. Matthew leans down since his skates give him a little extra inches to his six-foot-three frame. Their lips meet in a soft kiss when she gets on her tiptoes. Her hands grasp at his shorts to give her some stablity.

They stand like that longer than they probably should, but she can't help but kiss him. All her anxiety about the last fifteen minutes melt away the longer the kiss goes.

The door opens and she hears her brother's voice. "How you doing in here, Kniesy?" Mitch questions. They both jump away from each other and look at Mitch, who stops in his tracks when he sees his little sister in the training room with his teammate. "(Y/N), why are you-- with Matthew? Kissing Matthew?"

She quickly looks between her brother and her boyfriend. "I, um ..." she trails off. Then Mitch angrily starts toward the two of them with a look in his eyes that she's seen before when the two of them caught an ex cheating on her. "Mitchy, stop." She tries to push against him with little success.

"My little sister?" Mitch asks as he shoves Matthew. "Are you kidding me?" Matt stumbles backward a little bit since he's still in his skates. She grabs at Mitch's t-shirt to try and stop him, but he overpowers her for a second time.

"Mitch," she tries again. "Enough. I'm an adult. I'm allowed to be with whoever I want to be with."

Mitch looks back at her. "This is my teammate, (Y/N)," he tells her. "My goddamn linemate most games, and you're in here kissing him? He's one of my closest friends and you're, what, hooking up with him behind my back?"

"It's not like that-" Matthew tries to say.

"And you," Mitch interrupts. "My little fucking sister. I trusted you and you go and do something like this? Are you actually kidding me? God, I can't believe you. Either of you. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? That my sister and one of my teammates snuck around my best for who knows how long. Snuck around at my house, my second home."

She looks at Matt, who looks genuinely terrified of what's happening right now. "Mitch, can you listen to me for a second before you start talking about something you know nothing about?" she asks. "There is a lot more to this story than you think."

Her brother rubs his face and shakes his head. "I don't think there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know-"

"I am in love with him, Mitch!" she shouts. "We're not just hooking up or anything like that. We're actually together. I love him and he loves me. If you would listen instead of assuming things then you'd know that."

It looks like someone slapped her brother across the face when she admits to him that she loves Matt. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. He looks between the two of them. She takes a few steps backward so she's standing beside her boyfriend while her eyes stay on Mitch.

Mitch blinks at them for a second before he says, "I need a little bit. I just need a second before we continue this conversation because I'm beyond angry and feeling very betrayed right now. Do what the two of you want because you're going to do it anyway but please do not talk to me while I'm on this roadie. Okay?"

They both nod and Mitch turns to walk out of the room. She lets out the breath that she was holding before she looks up at Matthew, who has color in his face again.

"We should've told him when we got together," Matt tells her without looking at her. "He's right. He's one of my closest friends and he's my linemate on the ice. I shouldn't have messed with that chemistry. It might affect our on ice performance, which is going to mess with the whole team's performance. Oh my God."

"Matthew," she sighs as she steps in front of him. "Hey. I made that choice too. He's my brother and I thought he'd get angrier if we told him at first. These eight months have shown us that we love each other and that I want this forever. If we told him at first, it wouldn't have given us that chance. I don't regret not telling him because we had that time to ourselves to figure us out. I'll talk to him when he gets back from the roadie and it'll be okay. I promise."

He nods. "I need to go get changed then we can go," he tells her. "Wish me luck that he doesn't throw any of his gear at me in the locker room."

"You have my full permission to throw something back at him."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The week and a half that the roadie takes feels like forever. All she can do is watch her brother enter a slump while on the west coast. She respects his wishes and doesn't text or call him while he's on the road, but it's one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.

Matthew gets clears to go non-contact on the ice eight days after the initial injury. Brad Marchand was given a two game suspension and a large fine for intent to injure. At least, that's what the NHL Department of Player Safety announced the day after his hit on Matt. She sits at the Leafs practice building while she watches Matt work on some stickhandling and skating drills by himself.

It's two weeks after the game versus Boston when Mitch reaches out to his little sister.

from: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:09 pm can i come over ? to talk. i think im ready to talk

to: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:11 pm yeah. matt's here too, if that's okay

He doesn't respond, but she lets Matt know that Mitch is coming over to her apartment. They both sit on the couch when a knock announces Mitch's arrival.

She opens the door and Mitch walks into the apartment without a greeting. She's on his heels when he walks into the living room. Matt stands up to face Mitch.

"You better treat her right, Knies," Mitch tells him. She blinks in total confusion. "I mean it, Matt. If I find out that you hurt her in any way, I'll put your ass back on IR faster than you can blink. Got it?" He nods in response. "Now, can I have a few minutes alone with my sister? I have some things I need to say to her and I don't need you in the room while I do."

Matt quickly disappears down the hallway to her bedroom. The door distantly clicks shut and Mitch turns to her. She stands straight up as she faces her brother.

They look at each other for a second before she concedes first. "I am so sorry that neither of us told you about our relationship," she says. "But I'm going to tell you that I don't regret not telling you. Matt and I needed some time to figure out how we work together before we told anyone. Then we were together longer and longer and we thought you would be so mad that we didn't tell you-"

"Oh, I'm mad alright," Mitch interrupts her. "I mean, there are millions of people in the Toronto area that you could've started a relationship with. There are hundreds of players in the league itself and you chose to enter a relationship with my linemate of all people."

"You're angry because I'm dating someone on your team? she asks. "Of all the reasons to be angry, you're mad because I fell in love with Matt? Mitch, that's you're fault. You're the one that introduced us because Matt was a rookie in a big city and I'm about as old as he is. You thought that we could lean on each other since I also had just moved to Toronto to pursue a career."

"I didn't think you'd date him," Mitch retorts. "Let alone fall in love with him."

She rolls her eyes. "I can't help who I fall in love with and you should know that," she spits at him.

Mitch sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he tells her. "You're my little sister."

"And he's one of your closest friends so you should know what kind of guy he is," she replies. "I'm 23, Mitch. I don't need you looking out for me. Believe me when I say that I very hesitantly started a relationship with Matt because I know how hockey players can be. He quickly showed me that he's not like other hockey players. He genuinely loves me, more than any of my previous boyfriends ever have."

Her brother frowns at her. "I just wish I could have watched you fall in love," he explains. "And know you were falling in love. I only find out you're in love and in a very serious relationship months later. I don't want to know how many months later but months later. It sucks not being able to watch my little sister grow up and find love until after."

Okay, she never thought of it like that. She never thought that it took away an opportunity for Mitch to watch her grow up a little bit, or find love. He was there for all her other relationships. Why not this one?

"I'm sorry, Mitchy," she softly tells him. "I really am. I don't want you to be mad because this is the best relationship I've ever been in. I'm sorry I took away watching me fall in love, but I didn't want to fall in love under the close eye of my older brother. Especially not when my boyfriend is his teammate. I needed to find me and how I worked with Matt. That's it. That's why neither of us told you."

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and envelopes her in a hug. She sighs and wraps his arms around his torso. "I could never be mad at you for very long," he admits. "I needed some time to think about what I was going to say to you when I calmed down. I didn't want to say something I might regret. I get why neither of you told me now."

"We wanted to so many times but it was never the right time," she says. "We were going to say something before the end of last season, then you were so focused on playoffs that we couldn't. Then the Boston series happened, and that wasn't the best time either. Then it was the offseason and we decided to wait even longer. Then this season started and it never seemed like the best time because the two of you had some great on ice chemistry. So we waited and waited until it was too late and it never felt like the right time."

Her brother backs away the hug and looks her in the eyes. "I don't want you to ever not tell me something because you think hockey is in the way," he sternly tells her. "I mean it. You're way more important than hockey will ever be. If you have something to tell me, then tell me next time, okay?"

She nods in response. "Got it," she softly says.

"By the way, I kind of knew something was up with you because you were around a lot more often than you were before," Mitch admits. "But you were always wearing my jersey so I thought it was because you really liked watching hockey. I had no idea it was because you were dating Matt. It makes sense looking back on it now."

A laugh passes her lips before she can stop it. "Hate to break it to you but it was because of Matt," she tells him. "I didn't wear his jersey because that would've meant telling you, which neither of us were ready for."

Mitch smiles at her. "I know," he says. "You look happy. I've never seen you this happy or in love before. It looks good on you, little sister."

"Thank you, big brother," she replies. "Can Matt come out now or are you going to give him the big brother talk?"

"Oh, I'll give that to him in the locker room," he laughs. "I'll tell you that you're allowed to wear his jersey now since I know. You've probably wanted to wear it before so you can now."

"Awesome," she says. "I've worn your jersey for too long. It's Matt's turn."

Footsteps echo down the hallway before they emerge into the living room. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything but I heard that I could come out," Matt's voice says behind her. She turns her head and looks at her boyfriend. "Are we okay?"

Mitch walks up to her boyfriend and Matt sharply inhales. Her older brother holds out his hand. "We're good," he tells his linemate. "We're going to have our own talk though because that is my little sister you are involved with."

"Understood," Matt replies.

With a huge smile on her face, she runs up to Matt and wraps herself around his torso. "My favorite boys are friends again," she says as she looks up at Matt. "And you're no longer my little secret."

"I better be the first person you tell when you put a ring on her finger, Knies," Mitch warns. "Or bad things will happen."

"I'll come to you and ask for your permission to marry her if it'll make you feel better," Matt replies. "When we eventually get to that point."

"Good," her brother says. "I'll get out of your hair. I just wanted to come talk to you guys for a second. I'm going out with Steph for an early dinner but I didn't want you guys to think I hated you."

The boys give their version of a hug goodbye. Mitch presses a kiss to her temple before leaving. She looks at Matt.

"Feel better?" she asks. "Knowing it's not going to mess with your on ice chemistry now?"

"A little."

"What will help you feel even better?"

"I think you already know." Matt takes a step backward down the hall that leads to her bedroom.

She grins. "I like the way you think, Kniesy."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[aventurineswife]

Hello, I just got an idea for a request from the Disney movie Finding Nemo, I'm thinking about a story like the beginning of the movie where Nemo is waking up his father but instead it's with Jiaoqiu and the reader, who's always been a bundle of energy but seemed to be ten times more excited than usual because of the wardance, during the 2.4 quest, he took the reader on as his student but he does view them as his own child. You don't have to do it if you don't want to I just thought it'd be cute

Guided by Small Joys

Summary: As the preparations for the wardance begin, Jiaoqiu finds himself stirred from his peaceful morning by his ever-energetic student, you. Despite his initial reluctance, he is quickly swept up in your infectious excitement and reminded of the hope and joy that still exist even amidst the hardships of war.

Tags: Jiaoqiu x Reader, Platonic Relationships, Father Figure Jiaoqiu, Student and Mentor, Fluff, Lighthearted Moments Found Family, Wardance Celebration.

A/N: Never watched Finding Nemo, so I had to change it change it a bit, hope you like it!!

The early morning haze had just begun to lift over the Xianzhou Yaoqing, bathing the serene alchemical gardens in soft, golden light. The air carried a crispness, promising a beautiful day ahead. Jiaoqiu sat cross-legged in his quiet study, his hands resting gently on his feather fan. Even blind, he always seemed to know the exact moment the sun crept over the horizon.

He had been awake for some time, savoring the stillness before the world stirred. But his quietude was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps outside his door, light but unmistakable. He smiled faintly.

"You're up early." he remarked before the door even slid open.

The response was an explosion of energy. "Jiaoqiu! Master Jiaoqiu! Wake up—oh, wait, you’re already awake! But still! Guess what? Guess what?"

The sheer enthusiasm in your voice made him chuckle. "Good morning to you too, little firecracker. What could possibly warrant this much excitement at dawn?"

"It's the wardance today!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing into the room. "I can't believe you forgot! Everyone's getting ready, and I just knew you'd want to be the first to hear about it!"

Jiaoqiu tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly at your words. "Ah, the wardance. How could I forget something you’ve mentioned no less than twenty times this past week?"

You laughed sheepishly, your energy undiminished. "Well, I had to remind you! It’s only the most exciting event ever! There's music, dancing, sparring demonstrations—oh! And the food! You’re coming, right? You have to come!"

Jiaoqiu sighed dramatically, though the corner of his lips quirked up in a teasing smile. "I suppose there's no convincing you to let me enjoy my morning in peace, is there?"

"Not a chance!" You grabbed his hand, your excitement infectious. "Come on, let’s go! The preparations have already started, and I promised to help set up. You said learning balance and coordination was part of my training, remember?"

"Did I?" Jiaoqiu teased, allowing himself to be pulled up. "Very well. Lead the way, little one. But do try not to trip over your own feet in your enthusiasm."

"I won’t!" you declared confidently, though Jiaoqiu could sense your barely-contained giddiness.

As the two of you stepped into the morning light, Jiaoqiu let out a soft sigh, the warmth of the sun against his skin a welcome reminder of life's small joys. You had been his student for some time now, and though your energy often wore him out, he found himself deeply fond of your spirited nature. In truth, it reminded him of something he thought he'd lost—a spark of hope, a reason to keep moving forward.

"Master?" your voice broke through his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"You’re smiling," you said, a note of wonder in your tone.

He chuckled. "Am I? Perhaps it’s because your enthusiasm is so blinding that even I cannot help but see it."

"Hey!" you protested, but your laughter soon followed.

As you guided him toward the bustling heart of the wardance preparations, Jiaoqiu couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. In a world fraught with loss and sorrow, your boundless energy was a gift—a reminder that, even in the midst of chaos, there was still light to be found.

And for today, at least, he would let himself bask in it.

[ofcrowsanddragons]

In a universe where Lucanis may have slightly held Rook hostage when they first met:

Lucanis climbed up the face of the Lighthouse balcony that overlooked the courtyard. Waited until his instincts told him it was safe, checked again, and vaulted lightly over the railing of the balcony. Allowing himself to blend into the shadow of a pillar, he checked Rook's position again.

The younger Crow was alert, stepping back from where they'd been gripping the balcony railing and moving to put their back closer to the wall. Something eased in his chest as he recognized the caution in the Crow who was, effectively, Lucanis's contract holder. Decent instincts were a good place to start from.

"You can't hesitate like that again," said Lucanis, stepping out from behind the pillar.

He watched Rook's face intently. Crows were expressive, but they often didn't react with their first impulse, and Rook was no exception.

In an instant, Rook's countenance went from battle readiness to relief to annoyance, before Rook smoothed over the expression into a sharp smile. They'd learned that one from Teia.

"Which time was I supposed to blast your head off, Lucanis?" Rook asked. "Do you want to give me a place to start from?"

Make Rook. Understand! shouted Spite from somewhere within Lucanis's own mind, adding to his caution. Spite was too close to the surface.

"Back in the Ossuary," said Lucanis. "You let me get too close."

"In my defense," said Rook, gliding past Lucanis to approach the railing again, "We were looking for you." Rook looked away from him and hopped over the balcony railing to sit perched on it, leaving their legs to dangle over the edge.

Leaving their back exposed to Lucanis. To Spite.

Spite's voice curled in his ear, a whisper saying, Smells different. All Lucanis could see were endless scenarios play out against a mark, pushing them from a balcony or stabbing them neatly in the back, winding a garrote around their neck or throwing a poison dart at their exposed skin.

"And I found you instead," said Lucanis, approaching Rook from behind. He put a hand on the railing next to them and leaned forward until his armor knocked against Rook's casual clothes. "And I could have killed you. Easily."

Lucanis contented himself with the sharp intake of breath from Rook. He knew from his own training that fear carved its lessons deeply.

"Cinnamon and peaches," said Spite, laughing darkly. "Training leather and spice. No. Spite!"

Lucanis tuned out the demon as he desolved into giggles. Evil giggles.

"Lucanis," breathed Rook, and Lucanis could hear the smile bleeding into the word, "Are you worried about me?" Rook leaned back into Lucanis, twisting until they could see the man's face, catching their balance partially on the bulwark of his chest. One of Rook's hands left the railing and their knuckles scraped lightly against his armor. "I'm pretty sure I can take whatever you're willing to throw at me."

Lucanis simultaneously wondered what Rook would have done if he had contact poison on his plate, and wondered what it would have felt like if he wasn't wearing armour. He was definitely blaming Teia for this.

He stepped back abruptly. Rook caught their own balance with grace, tilting back safely on the balcony and flipping artfully, coming back to their feet and looking Lucanis in the eye.

He growled. "This isn't a game, Rook!"

"It hasn't been a game for a long time," Rook observed, studying him as intently as he had attempted to do with their expressions. "All right, Lucanis," they said, letting all trace of seduction fall from their tone and stance, "No games. Tell me what you want from me."

His eye was caught by Spite, who had appeared just between them and to the side, head tilted curiously. Lucanis felt boxed in by the wall and the pair of them, so he tore his gaze away and let it drift over the rest of the Lighthouse, beyond Rook's shoulder.

"I'll kill your gods," said Lucanis.

"And...?" asked Rook, their voice an invitation.

"To do that," said Lucanis, "I need you not to get yourself killed. You're a mage—"

"And you're the Demon of Vyrantium," said Rook, sounding like they had come to some sort of an understanding. It seemed unlikely. "Well, I can't promise that I won't be in the thick of things," and here Rook spread their hands wide, giving a mock bow, "But I do trust you to have my back."

And with that, Rook hopped onto the railing, balanced on the ball of one foot, and flipped backwards as they fell into the space below.

Lucanis didn't hear the assassin's landing on the cobblestones below. He leaned heavily on the wall, closing his eyes.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

---

From the same universe as "Knife to Meet You", where Rook and Neve had a slightly more antagonistic first meeting with Lucanis in the Ossuary.

[ihaznoclue]

Hello I was just wondering if you can do a angst to fluff post with my baby Tamaki Amajiki. Like the reader (female) is having continuous nightmares about her past and never seemed to have a good night sleep so Tamaki as her boyfriend/soulmate helps the reader is any way possible to get her a good night sleep. Thank you! :)

Pairings -> Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Warnings -> Nightmares?

Note -> Reader having nightmares so Tamaki is there to help to get the reader a good night sleep

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Tamaki Amajiki

This is getting ridiculous, it had seemed you had the same nightmare over and over again and you're just sick of it to be honest.

A repeating cycle of nightmares about how your parents died in a fire that was caused by the LOV. You hated those villains with a fiery passion but right now you needed to figure out how you were gonna go back to sleep.

You were laying on your back as you started at the ceiling of your dorm room, you were a year three, which was surprising to you as you didn't think you were gonna come this far but here you are.

Your arm was resting on your sweaty forehead as you calmed down from your mental breakdown for the fifth time in a row this week...

You sighed as you sat up, you throat was a bit dry so you decided to go to the main lounge to get a drink of water from the tap, you stood right up from your comfy bed as you walked slowly to your door and opened it quietly trying not to make sound so you didn't get in trouble for going out of your dorm room.

You now closed the door as quietly walked to the elevator to take it down, you couldn't be bothered to take the stairs since you were literally half-asleep.

What if you fell and face planted on the floor and make a lot of sound to wake everyone up. Nope not on my watch.

You waited until the elevator went down and open the doors, you walked out and came straight to the sink. You opened a cabinet and got a glass cup and poured some water in the glass and then took a sip of it

Thank God. You were finally free from the dry throat that was bothering you as soon as you woke up.

You then took a couple more sips until it was empty and put the glass cup back in the sink to do it in the morning, because you didn't want to make such sound of glass and metal sink clinging to each other.

You sighed as you didn't want to go back to your dorm alone, even though your dorm room was a comfort area for you with a lot of stuff that comforted you in a type of way.

So you turned around to walk back...

"Name?"

"JESUS FUCK-!" You yelled but then the stranger covered your mouth quickly, you looked up a little to only see Tamaki

"Shh.. You need to be quiet love" You nodded as your mouth was un-covered by his hand, you were a bit scared but as you soon realised it was Tamaki, you loosened the tense in your body

"Tama? What are you doing up?" You asked, Tamaki perked at this then replied

"Oh well, I wanted to go to your dorm but then you weren't there so I figured you were out here.." He wanted to find you? This dork

You gave out an airy chuckle as you shook your head a bit "You know you can't come to my dorm you know, I don't want you to get in trouble you dork"

"Uh- Well I mean I just wanted to check up on you you know, you seemed to be tired this whole week and I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I did text you at first but then you didn't reply back as you usually do so I went to your room and didn't find you" Tamaki explained

You totally forgot to bring your phone that you left on your bed side table beside you bed, you groaned as you face palmed yourself

"I totally forgot to bring my phone, I'm so sorry Tama" You worried looked up at him, you might of gave him a fright though

"It's okay love, no need to be sorry about that. We should head on back then" Tamaki requested as you follow him down the hall to the elevator

The doors opened and went inside, you forgot how there were lights in the elevator but luckily you could see Tamaki's face instead of seeing him in the dark

"Um.. Love? Have you been crying?" Tamaki asked, you gave a confused face so he pointed to your cheeks where you had dried up tear stains from your breakdown earlier before you went down

"Oh.. Um it's fine.. I just had a little crying session earlier no biggie" You back the topic down but Tamaki was worried if something happened to you so he came closer

"Uhh- Tama.. Hun? What are you doing-?" You were then interrupted by him rubbing your cheeks that seemed to get rid of the tear stains, then he seriously looked at you

"You had another nightmare didn't you?" Tamaki asked then his eyebrow furrowed in worry, you couldn't bear to look at him in the eyes now

You didn't tell Tamaki about your nightmares that seemed to keep you awake most of the time but he didn't think it was going on forever he thought it was just one night

"Love.. Look at me"

God you loved that nickname, you always seemed to melt at it, you then seemed to melt into his hand that was staying on your cheek as you started to cry again

"Y-Yes I did.." Your voice cracked as you answered, look at him with sad eyes, he instantly pulled you in for a hug, a tight one to let you know you were safe and cared for

He petted your head to calm you down a bit which worked, the elevator doors opened as he took your hand in his as he guarded you to his dorm room

"Wait.. Tama, we will get in trouble If-"

"I don't care.." Tamaki replied

You never saw this side of Tamaki until now, he was more confident to speak as you gave him a reason to be confident but right now he was being confident for you and you only

You didn't say anything after that as he opened his door as led you in, his room was basic but looked comfy, his bed was big for the both of you

"Lay on my bed, I'll turn off the lights when you are on the bed then I'll come over" Tamaki spoke

You walked over to the bed and climbed on it as you crawled to the front and tucked yourself in, his bed was comfy and smelled good.

The lights turned off as you felt tense again as you felt alone until you felt hands wrapping around you as you heard shifting on the bed. Tamaki was tucking himself in now as he placed your head near his chest to hear his heartbeat

His strong arms were wrapped around to make you feel safe and secured

"Try to go to sleep, you really need it, I'll be here to help you if you have the same nightmare again. Now sleep" He said as he kissed your forehead

His heartbeat....

His soft breathing....

His warmth....

This feeling felt nice..

It felt good..

You felt peaceful

and it was all because of

HIM <3

-A<3

[mymegrokosmos]

coffee dates with seungkwan are your favourite. he's always late but it gives you the chance to take your time, lingering on the menu and finding a nice table where you can watch the people walking by. you like sitting on the patio. partly because it gives your boyfriend the freedom to be as loud as he wants while he vents about his day and fills you in on any new drama happening on set. partly because it's usually a good way to get him to sit closer or to end up bundled into his sweater or jacket.

you can’t complain. well, you could but why would you want to? the view is nice and he always pays. one thing about dating boo seungkwan is that you're absolutely spoiled. you get the princess treatment every day and you couldn’t feel luckier.

"y/n, love?"

you blink at the sound of your name, turning from where you were watching a cute little dachshund in a sweater to find your boyfriend hovering over you. he stands beside your chair, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you push away your thoughts, sweep away the mind cobwebs of whatever daydream you were stuck in for a minute, and smile up at him.

"hi kwannie, have you been there long?"

he shakes his head, sliding into his seat across the small table from you and trying to see what you're looking at. you laugh softly and nod towards the puppy.

"cute, right? look at his little boots."

seungkwan just shakes his head but he's smiling as he picks up the iced americano you ordered for him, using his card of course because he sulks every time you try to pay for coffee on your own delivery or order ahead apps.

"a little silly but I guess it's probably practical."

you nod, sipping your iced latte. "mm, I imagine a lot of things are much harder and more inconvenient when you're that small living in a world made for much bigger beings and you can't even speak to them about it. not in a way that we understand well at least."

your boyfriend just blinks at you. "I've left you alone with Dino and Vernon too often."

you rest your chin on one hand and blink back at him. "and what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"you're spewing scenarios other people would never think of because you're bored. there are so many people you could be watching right now and instead you decided that, while waiting for the love of your life to arrive and grace you with the blessing that is his presence, you wanted to wonder what it would be like to live as a dachshund for day."

you considered this. "okay, fair point. however, I stand by my decision. it was fun."

seungkwan sips his coffee. you smile.

"how was your day handsome?"

and just like that, you fall into easy conversation. the words always flow with seungkwan. the rhythm is soothing, familiar, and when he gets up to drape his sweater over your shoulder after you shiver one too many times (one, that's already too many in his mind why are you even cold to begin with the weather should just immediately conform to your every whim frankly) it feels like home.

you smile, slipping your arms through the sleeves of the thick hoodie and snuggling into the leftover warmth of seungkwan's body. it smells like him, clean, sharp, citrus and a hint of something slightly woodsy. you blush when you glance up to meet his fond gaze, eyes soft as he watches you with a small smile.

"what?"

he shakes his head and takes another sip of his coffee. "nothing, you're just cute."

you scrunch your nose up at him and he laughs. you sip your drink and stretch your legs out, foot just brushing his ankle before you sit back again.

"ready to head home?"

he nods. "we're still on for dinner together, right? and a movie? I already told jeonghan hyung to clear out for the evening."

you nod, smiling as he offers you a hand up. "mm, you know we are. that sounds perfect. please tell me you're making those mimosas you tried out last week?"

his hand moves to rest on your lower back, guiding you back through the restaurant and out into the world again. you lean into him as you cross the street, head resting against his shoulder just slightly as you walk close enough to bump hips every few steps. neither of you moves to fix that. you just smile and let it happen.

"i'm making pizza, mingyu helped me prepare it all ready to pop in the oven when we get back. I just need to preheat it first and use that pizza stone he got us for Christmas."

"ooh what kind of pizza."

"I hope you like margherita."

you nod. "that sounds perfect kwan."

and it is. domestic seungkwan is one of your favourite sides of him. you like when he gets to relax like this. seeing him in comfy clothing, bare faced and with his hair all fluffy from running his hands through it. you sip your drink and watch as he shuffles around the kitchen, humming along to the playlist he put on and you move to light some candles.

it gets dark so early in autumn and while his apartment gets great light, his walls of windows can't compensate for a sun already fully sunken on the horizon. you find yourself smiling as he puts the pizza in the oven and sets the timer, reaching over to pull you into him and spinning you both around the kitchen.

you just watch as he sings to you, swaying with him as you dance to the rest of the song before stilling. his hands rest comfortably on your hips, like they belong there. they do, you think so at least. his expression is soft again, happy, and you can't help leaning up to kiss him.

"what was that for?"

you mirror his words from earlier. "you're just cute."

he sighs. "what am I going to do with you darling?"

you grin. "keep me, I hope."

and just like that you fall into the arms, and charms, of the one and only boo seungkwan. yet again. like you always do. because there's nothing that melts your heart quite like the smile on his face and the sparkle in those eyes. his happiness is truly the most beautiful thing you've ever witnessed, and you want nothing more than to keep being a part of it for as long as he'll let you share in this. in these moments.

in this laughter. in this lifetime of soft, safe, warm, genuine love. the kind no one ever warns you is addicting. the kind that doesn't judge. okay so maybe a little bit. but it's worth all the hard moments, every fight or argument, every little speed bump you have to overcome on the way. it's all worth it when you get to come home to this.

unconditional love, thy name is boo seungkwan and thou art everything.

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (26)

If he overlooks the scar, Utahime is tolerably attractive. The form-fitting red dress with a hint of cleavage helps. Naoya resists the urge to lean back and rest his shoulder against the wall. This is not that type of establishment, and while he does not care for Utahime, he needs her to believe he does, which is why he opted for this restaurant.

It is elegant. Their booth is secluded and gives off the illusion that it is only them. The black upholstery and the wood table in the middle are enough to settle his mind. He enjoys this place for its simplicity. Jazz streams through the speakers, helping with the romantic atmosphere.

"Something on your mind?" he asks, reaching for his sake, Dassai 23, the only brand he enjoys when he is out and not at home where there is far more expensive sake to suit his needs.

Utahime startles. Her face flushes pink. "I just..." she stops, swallows, and then glances down at her lap. "Why me? Why have Mei Mei set up this meeting?"

"Meeting?" He scoffs. "This is a date, not a meeting." If she believes this to be a meeting between sorcerers, then he is not doing a good job of courting her. Naoya sips his drink and mulls on her words. Why her? He cannot come out and say it is because she is a stand-in for the woman he wants. The woman being guarded by Gojo Fucking Satoru. He grits his teeth. His body aches in remembrance of the beating. "Your kindness." Naoya sets the drink down and folds his fingers on the table. "Your intelligence." He smiles as he eyes her curves in that red dress. Smooth, clear skin, other than that unsightly scar across her face, and delicate hands that have little callouses. He would have preferred if her hands were callous free, but Utahime is a sorcerer, so Naoya resigns himself to get over this mark against her. "And of course, your beauty."

He will have to fuck her from behind. That scar of hers infuriates him and her face is... Naoya runs his tongue over the top of his teeth. From behind, he could get lost in his fantasy. He could picture her, Kagome. She would want it slow. She'd beg him for more. Beg him to ruin her.

"Zenin-san—"

"Naoya. No need for us to be formal." There are some stores still open. Perhaps he should take her shopping. Nothing a couple of jewels can't fix. His eyes narrow. Does this woman not own any jewelry? Who comes on a date without a necklace or earrings?

"Naoya," Utahime says slowly. "Please be honest with me. I'm sure you will be named head of the Zenin clan. There are plenty of other smaller clans or someone else of higher standing."

For fuck's sake.

Naoya exhales, pretending to be put off by Utahime's words. "While that may be, those other women are not you. They lack... your kindness. That motherly instinct." He leans back right as the server returns to take their orders. Naoya orders for the both of them. Once the server is gone, Naoya turns his attention back to Utahime. "You do not give yourself as much praise as you should. You are correct about me not being completely honest."

Utahime straightens her back, rigid in the chair. Naoya's eyes drift down. Her tits are perky, but small, not at all like the full ones of Kagome.

All this pining over Kagome is going to drive him mad.

"Should you have me, I am dating with the intention of marrying you."

She gasps and then covers her mouth with her fingers. Naoya waits for Utahime to compose herself. It is clear she is not used to going on dates, which fills him with some satisfaction. Less he will need to edge out of her. She'll be more pliable. Moldable.

"I am not asking you to marry me tonight," he continues. "But for you to take my words and my actions with sincerity."

Utahime drops her hand. "I have no intention of quitting my job as a teacher."

"I wouldn't dream of asking you to do such a thing." He keeps his face pleasant. Where does she get off telling him what she will and will not do? His woman will not work. Her only job will be to wait on him and give him as many brats, powerful sons as he wishes. Sons stronger than those brats of Satoru. Damn him. How dare he hide an older son who can do something Naoya cannot, a domain expansion, the pinnacle of jujutsu.

Utahime will birth him sons with the clan's prized cursed technique. He knows about her technique. It is support-based, useless when she is on her own, but that amplification of hers could potentially amplify the greatness of his future heirs. While everyone else is concerned with finding more women with energy similar to Kagome's, he will focus on Utahime.

Let the others waste their time chasing after unicorns instead of looking at the potential of the sorcerers that have weaker curse techniques, but could be exploited.

"In fact, your teaching and how you are helping to shape the next generation of jujutsu is what drew me in. The students love you. They all speak highly of you and seeing how patient you are. How attentive you are..." he dips his head and then looks back up at her with what he hopes is a demure smile. "I began to wonder—to dream of how wonderful it would be to have even a sliver of that love for myself."

Utahime flushes, the blush darkens. Her chest rises and Naoya knows he has her.

A few pretty words and she's entranced. Naoya reaches across the table and holds out a hand, asking for Utahime to place hers in his.

"I've heard rumors about your clan," she says, placing her hand in his. "The Zenins aren't known for being kind to women."

"None would dare to treat you as less than," he says. "Those rumors are from those who were discontent with their lives. Miserable people go out of their way to make everyone as miserable as them."

Utahime bites her bottom lip. For a moment, Naoya wonders how that red lipstick would look smeared along his cock. He swallows as he blinks away the image of her on her knees staring up at him.

Damn that Satoru.

"Mai is your student," Naoya says simply. "She has potential, but if it had been up to her, she would have stayed small. Some sorcerers require that push. A small nudge to help them reach their potential. You should know that better than anyone as a teacher. Mai may complain, but everything she has been through has been for her benefit. She is simply too young to see that now." He squeezes her hand and then pulls away.

The server returns with their meals. He would have preferred for her to eat a salad, but after that misstep with Kagome, he opted to order Utahime something with more protein. So long as she keeps her weight to a respectable range, he will allow her to eat what she wishes.

During their meal, Naoya listens as Utahime shares more about her family and her upbringing. He listens attentively, not because he actually cares that she comes from a family of non-sorcerers or that her father is a hardworking salary man, but because any information gained is valuable. Anything he can use to keep her close to his side until he is so fully wrapped around her that any attempt to leave would result in nothing less than strangling herself is valuable indeed.

"Come with me," Naoya says, taking her hand in his. Utahime glances at their hands and then tugs his jacket tighter with her other.

"Oh? I thought..."

"I wish to give you a gift," he says simply, leading them down the busy streets of Kyoto. "I thought to purchase it beforehand, but I was worried I would get you something you wouldn't like."

"All gifts are appreciated," she replies. "It's the thought that counts. Not how expensive the gift is."

"Lies broke men tell their girlfriends so they feel better about their inadequacies. There is nothing wrong with wanting more. You deserve it." He angles his head down and smiles down at her. "But since it is the thought that counts, allow me to settle my mind by purchasing as many jewels for you as my heart contents."

She turns her head and pushes her hair back behind her ear.

This is easy. Far too easy. For the first time that night, Naoya smiles, a smile he feels from the depths of his heart. Everything is going to work out and soon he will show Gojo Satoru, who is really on top.

Naoya slides off his button-down white top and tosses it in the hamper for someone else to take care of. He sits down on his bed, not bothering to turn on the lamp, and pulls his phone from his pocket. Shopping for Utahime was interesting. She hesitates a lot, but he likes that. Likes how easily she fell into place.

"It won't take much to mold her," he says, clicking on the social media app. It's stupid, but ever since he heard about Kagome. Heard about how she has yet another child with Satoru, Naoya finds himself scrolling on Satoru's page. It is not stalking. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know more about what the Gojo clan leader is up to. In fact, this is something Naoya should be doing as the future clan leader.

His breath catches in his throat.

Fuck.

Kagome looks amazing in that dress. Red. He moves the phone closer to his face and clenches his other fist. He wants to zoom in, to commit that dress to memory, but he dares not in case he accidentally likes the picture and alerts Satoru. Kagome's hair is wild. Her lips are flushed.

She looks as though she just got done getting fucked.

Naoya swallows back the desire and swipes to the next picture. More pictures of Kagome on some car, most likely Satoru's. He snarls when the next picture is one with Satoru and Kagome. He hates how she is looking at him. How her hand rests on Satoru's chest. How she looks at him so sweetly.

He exhales and runs a hand through his hair, trying to dislodge the discomfort in his chest. He should be happy. Elated. The date with Utahime tonight was successful and they have plans to meet up in the morning for breakfast before his first mission of the day, and yet he is pissed.

Why does Gojo Satoru have it all?

He doesn't deserve it. No, Naoya deserves all the blessings that have been gifted to Satoru. He scrolls some more, needing to look at something other than Kagome in that dress.

A family picture.

Naoya tosses his phone to the side and lies back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He stretches his arm out and makes a fist. He's coming for everything Satoru has. His sons—his legacy—will outshine anything Satoru has done. He will overshadow the accomplishments of Satoru's children. And when Satoru tosses Kagome to the side, he will be there with comforting words and promises that are meant to be broken.

He turns his head and reaches for his phone. Surely, he is a masochist because he scrolls back up to that picture of Kagome in that red dress. Naoya reaches one hand down past his slacks and grips his cock. He shudders as he squeezes his length. He could have pushed for more. Pushed Utahime to spend the night with him, but he aims to play the long game.

Closing his eyes, he breathes out of his mouth and then sits up, dragging his hand from his cock as he does so. Fuck this. Naoya opens his door and walks out of his room, leaving his phone behind. The moon is high in the sky and brings the tranquility he so desperately needs. A woman, a servant, drops her head and scurries by.

"Stop," he says, advancing towards her.

"Zenin-sama," she says with a tremble. "How can I help—" Her brown eyes widen. Naoya grips her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"What is your role?"

"R-role?" Her pink lips part. "To serve you, Zenin-sama."

Naoya chuckles as he drops his hand. To serve him, he likes the sound of that. He takes her hand, pulls her forward, and places her palm on his groin. Her hair is two shades too light, but she will do.

"Why are you hesitating?"

She sinks to her knees right there in the middle of the compound with only the light from the moon bearing witness. Naoya closes his eyes and imagines it's her lips on him. Imagines the look of pure adoration she had in that picture and how it is him she is directing that look to.

"Zenin—"

"Don't fucking talk." He snaps his eyes open and grabs her by the bun, holding her head in place while he chases his release. She would take it. Take everything he offers her. Naoya closes his eyes once more. It is only when his eyes are closed that he can pretend it is her whose lips are stretched around him.

Soon. He'll have it all.

***

A/N: Dropping this chapter today as a thank you to everyone for reading and being awesome. Next update will be on Sunday. Make sure to take care of yourselves! Wishing you a happy Thanksgiving and if your family tries to set you up with a person like Naoya, run lolol.

[grogusmum]

Rules: write a story [300-1000 words] based on this moodboard. You don't need to include every aspect of it, but there must be a reference to at least 2 pictures besides JOEL [who is our PP boy for this challenge]. It can be any genre, smut/no smut, everything is up to you. Write, edit and post your work [you can use the moodboard or text me and i'll send you the pics from it that inspired you to make your own cover for your fic] and tag me in it.

@iamasaddie

I'm sorry I'm late. This was written in my drafts on my phone 😬 but it's done, so I'm yeeting out there...

Let's visit with Joel and Catnip again, shall we...

Please Mister Please

Apple Pie

JOEL MILLER X F!READER

WARNING: 18+ a little truck bed sex

Evenings under the stars in the gazebo became a regular thing, as did finding little moments to "mess around", as Joel liked to put it...

Joel will do whatever the community needs of him, he will go on patrol, he'll peel potatoes, he'll bring the sheep in (he enjoys this one a far bit).

Today, he's returning from a run. It's one of the few things he looks at Tommy with eyes saying, if there isn't any one else.

Whether it reminds him of his old life, or he worries more about not getting back to Ellie and you, you're not sure... maybe a bit of both. But if you've ever seen him drive through the gate, you'd see his shoulders go down an inch, his jaw loosen, and the crinkle between his brows- well that stays resolutely in place except in his most peaceful sleeps.

He does the same thing every time he gets back. He radios Tommy, checks on Ellie, and then finds you, his Catnip. He'll pull up to your shop or cabin, "your song" playing on the old tapedeck of the Bronco.

"Hey there, how'd it go"

"Fine, fine..." Joel looks at you, drinking you in. "Go fer a ride?"

You smile and put the "back in a few" sign on the door and hop in.

"You know," you say as he takes your hand. "They send you because you're good at it. And they trust you to bring back whomever goes with you. "

"I know" he sighs.

"What are we doin?"

"Wanna mess around?" His eyes slide to yours, his mouth quirking a naughty smile. Then it widens at your returning smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He parks the truck in an out of the way spot camouflaged by trees.

Joel pulls some blankets out of the back and winks as he hauls himself out of the truck.

"You planned this before going on your run?" You wonder in disbelief as he opens your door (you have learned to wait for him, after he near pouted at you not letting him "treat you right".)

"It's the carrot," Joel says matter of factly, "keeps me goin"

"Ellie keeps you going."

Yeah, but she's a teenager," he sighs, " sometimes I can't tell if she's the carrot or the stick."

"Joel!" You admonish can't keep the laughter out of your scolding.

***

Joel's large palm glides up your now bare torso, coming to rest at the swell of your breast. Your fingers play at his bare chest, tracing patterns. His broad shoulders casting you in shadow. His eyes trained on your lips, slowly rise to meet yours. Soft and warm, full of all he can't quite find the words for.

Thank you for loving me despite my brokenness.

I will work every day to derserve it

The kisses are slow and unhurried. You can feel him against your leg while he presses, slowly grinding, this too lazy and almost without a goal.

"Feels good," he rumbles in your ear, "soft."

You roll on top, slipping together like puzzle pieces.

"Hi."

"Hello, darlin"

You kiss his lips, his nose and eyelids, while he nips at the underside of your chin. Trying to convey what he can't hear

I've got my cracks, too

You deserve good things, Joel

A deep rumble escapes Joel, as you press your center against him. Eyes closed, you move against each other with growing need. Your secret sighs and moans heared only by the birds, how bright and wet Joel's eyes are is guarded by the trees standing silent sentry.

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

Your comments and reblogs are so appreciated. If you care to read more of my writing, click the link to my masterlist, and if you'd like to join my taglist, click this link

[attractthecrows]

retconning stroud out of the deep roads so i can shove laure amell and the hawke siblings and varric and anders all into the same little camp. they would all have such a bad time

[tonycries]

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) - G.S.

Synopsis. In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, FWḂ! Gojo, slight Sukuna x reader, rough VERY jealous séx, Satoru goes feraI omg, unprotected, FWḂ-to-lovers, thígh riding, fíngering, creampíe, overstím, spítting, implied thréesome, he’s a bit mean and possessive, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Heheh, hoping y’all have a lovely week coming up <3

“-n’ there’s this really great café downtown with those cupcakes you like-”

“Toru.”

“-I’ll get ya some for that kick you need after a lecture with Yaga. Speaking of Yaga-”

“Toru-”

“-he’s the one in need of a kick. I swear, that man gave me a B on my presentation just because I caught him in the middle of his interpretive dance routine-”

“Satoru!”

At this, Satoru pauses in the middle of buckling up his jeans to throw a grave nod your way. “I know, right?” Promptly sauntering over to pick up his t-shirt from where it had been thrown onto your bedroom floor, “It gave me nightmares for a few days, too. Which is why we should go to that café tomorrow and then…”

You roll your eyes - partially out of frustration, partially out of necessity to rip your stare away from those sculpted shoulders on display. Decorated in angry, red scratches running down, down, down. Somehow, you manage to grit out, “Satoru I have a uh- date.”

And ah, was it a sight to behold - because, perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc on this planet, he’s stunned into silence. 

Still very groggy from sleep, still very sinfully shirtless standing at the foot of your bed. His kiss-bitten lips fall slack as you plow on, “And it’s just- I can’t make it tomorrow night because he invited me to his party.” 

Party? This was the first time you canceled one of your…appointments with your friend-with-benefits - and it was for some party? Satoru could do parties, too - much better ones than this loser, he’s sure. Ones that would actually warrant you bailing on him.

Shaking away the strange thoughts ringing in his mind, he spits, “Who?” Just about all he could get out now. 

Whoever he was - it was true about the parties. Why would you want to waste any time going to something like that when Satoru was the one known for them on campus. Him and Suku-

“It’s Sukuna.”

“Oh.”

---

It was stupid - it was ridiculous. And you don’t know why Sukuna ever agreed to this scheme, but here you were, glued to his side like his favorite lil’ plaything for the night. 

“What?” you shout for the nth time tonight, scooting closer on the couch. And you see his lips move, yet, to your frustration - despite being seated so flush against you - no sound comes out of them. 

Whatever they say about Sukuna and Satoru’s parties were true - and then some. Because right now, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, let alone whatever Sukuna was talking about. Heaving out a sigh, you get ready to give up and suggest joining the thrumming dance floor - before, a large, soft hand glides down to your waist. 

Fingers digging into the plush of your hips as Sukuna yanks you easily to plop down onto his waiting lap. Thighs strong and steady underneath yours, meeting your surprised gaze with his smug one, “This better?”

His hot breath fans the shell of your ear, sending traitorous shivers running along your spine - all the way down to where Sukuna was resting hand right above where your tight dress was hiking up. 

Involuntarily, you find yourself nodding along, “Y-yeah. Much better.”

“Good.”

Fuck, you could feel each and every rumble of his broad chest against yours as he continues the conversation like nothing happened. The faint tap! tap! tap! of Sukuna’s fingers drumming on your squirming hips to the beat of the pounding music. 

And it’s really hard to forget where you are, yet it hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact - when his dark eyes widen at something over your shoulders. The steady beat of his fingers halting abruptly, “Oh?”

You knew what that look meant - knew who it meant. Because, really, there was only ever one person that could command as much attention in such a hazy, packed campus party.

Dipping your head, you hastily ask, “Is he looking over at us?”

To which Sukuna finally tears his gaze away, amusement and something else so dark swirling behind his gaze when he grabs the back of your throat. Whispering against the skin, “More than looking, pretty. Satoru’s planning my funeral and dancing on my grave already.” Moving up, voice dropping to a low, low whisper, “All according to plan, of course. N’ I think…” You jolt as he bites down on your earlobe, hard. “-that we should give him a lil’ show, hm?”

You bite back a soft moan, palms smoothing over Sukuna’s pecs to steady yourself. “And just what did you have in mind?”

“A little bit of this.” he grins, eyes flickering over behind you. “A little bit of that. And some of-” Sukuna chuckles at the way you’re so responsive underneath his touch, bucking when he gives your ass a tight squeeze. Tracing right up, up, up the middle of your spine, “-this.” Lips just inches away from yours now, close. “And you get him as a new boyfriend, and I get killed for taking what I can’t have.”

You feel something soft - fleeting. 

And then immediately Sukuna’s pulling away, those lips that were just barely one yours curling up into such a sly smirk, “Yo, Satoru.”

You stiffen at the name - and the burning hole being stared into your back right now - whipping your head around to be met face-to-face with a towering Satoru. Brows furrowed, biceps rippling when he crosses his arms, lips drawn tight as he hisses through his teeth, “Seems the two of you are having a lot of fun.”

Oh, were you thankful for Sukuna’s sharp mouth right about now. Because while you’re still sitting there with your mouth stupidly agape, he muses, “Mhm, a lot of fun.” Thumbing your face back towards him, “Isn’t that right, pretty?”

Fuck, those were fighting words, ones that had Satoru looming closer - practically sandwiching you between the two men.

“I’m sure she can speak for herself.” he snaps back, slender fingers circling your wrist. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, Toru.” And, well, maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were a mastermind, because you only bat your lashes up at Satoru so deceivingly innocently. “Kuna here-” relishing in the way he flinches at the nickname, “-was jus’ telling me how great of a boyfriend he’d be. Right?”

The other man nods, “Since this pretty lil’ thing is single, thought I might as well take a shot.”

“Please.” Satoru was pulling you closer against him now, irritated huffs prickling waves of goosebumps across your skin. Words venomous, “Some boyfriend he’d be. I’m sure he’d do nothing other than give you weak dick and bore you to death.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Right, because yours is so much better?”

“You really think you have what it takes to satisfy this lil’ minx?”

Both men were gritting their teeth, trapping you between them. People were starting to stare now - some even pulling their phones out to start recording in case of a fight. And before the argument could escalate until that point, you catch Sukuna’s eye. Cutting off whatever next retort was on the tip of his tongue with a short, subtle shake of your head. 

“Well then…” he instead purrs, grinning as if he was in on some inside joke between the two of you - on purpose, of course, just to watch Satoru’s eyes grow harder. “Guess if I’m ‘boring her to death’ then you-” Sukuna gives you a little push, nudging you towards Satoru’s chest. “-can teach her all about fun.”

Before you can react, two strong arms are looping your waist, helping you stand up - and pulling you clean off of Sukuna’s lap. 

You’re hit with Satoru’s expensive, heady cologne - and his chest against your back, rock-hard, chest thumping wildly. You blink up at that uncharacteristically clenched jaw, “Toru?”

Now, you’ve seen him moody, you’ve seen him irritated - but never to this extent. Positively fuming, teeth grit, jolting at the mere sound of your voice as if his whole body was hit with a wave of electricity. Like some hidden, primal part of himself was being poked so dangerously awake when you softly intertwine your fingers with his. All gentle against his almost bruising hold, you question, “Are you alri-”

You don’t get to finish the question, because all it takes is another slow, leering grin flashed at you from Sukuna before Satoru mutters, gravelly. “Excuse us, then. I must have a talk with my woman.”

Starting to walk in long, fast strides upstairs - with you all stumbling and trying to keep up behind him. 

Urgent. Dangerous.

“Extra room’s unlocked, you two!” you hear Sukuna call out after the both of you. And the last sight you see of him is when he mouths a silent “You’re welcome.”. One hand flashing you a thumbs up, the other adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Have fun.”

Satoru only clicks his tongue, moving very purposefully towards where Sukuna’s bedroom was instead.

“Woah- Toru, slow down.” you yelp, out of breath at his ruthless pace. But of course, since this is Satoru, he won’t have it any way other than stopping immediately in his tracks. Turning briefly around to you - only to wrap two arms around your waist, throwing you so easily over his shoulder like some ragdoll. Large palms tugging down the hem of your ass as he continues walking. “Y-you’re so-”

So what? Mean? Jealous? Playing right into your hands?

You don’t even know - nor do you really care, because Satoru finally reaches his destination.

“Fuck- here.” he spits.

Slam!

The door is flung open so hard it almost rattles off its hinges - and you aren’t faring any better. Because no sooner has Satoru stepped inside, he’s throwing you onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

The mattress dips as he slowly makes his way up to you, your legs quiver at how much he just looked like a man starved - eyes half-lidded and crazed, hair ruffled. Having finally found a full meal in years. Darkly eyeing down the way you’re splayed out like such a slut on the mattress, dress hiking up with each bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“So-” Satoru’s fingers reach out to lazily unbuckle the straps of your heels. Lingering much more than necessary. “-got anything to say?”

You bite your lower lip, holding back a delighted grin while his hands dance up your thigh to fiddle with that garter you knew he’d love. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Cocking your head in faux-confusion, “Hmm, like what?”

“Oh I dunno.” Satoru muses, saccharine sweet. And oh you could tell by his tone that he didn’t like that - didn’t want to like it. Running his fingers feather-light all the way down your legs to fling that useless garter onto the floor. “How about a ‘oh I’m so sorry, Toru, for bailing on you and acting like such a slut with the biggest asshole on campus jus’ to rile you up.’” 

You bristle at his mockingly high tone, oh yeah, your plan worked - hell, maybe too well. 

Teeth clenched, you hiss, “Well what are you gonna do about it, Toru?” Jutting your chin in defiance, “You’re not even my boyfriend. Maybe he jus’ fucks me better than you.”

“Say that again.”

Fuck, it takes you a second to even recognise his voice as your familiar friend-with-benefits. So jagged and raw. 

And yet, you’re still running your mouth - so close to his. Too close. “Maybe he jus’ fucks me be-”

Now, usually you were the one that’d shut up Satoru mid-sentence - this time, however, he’s the one crashing his lips against yours. Swallowing the rest of that sentence in such a messy clash of teeth, and spit, and desperation. 

Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, “Say it again, sweetheart.”

Oh, you knew you shouldn’t. Not one bit. But you do it anyway, letting out a muffled, “He f-”

And again. And again and again and-

Each and every time Satoru’s kissing away your mean little words, a large hang coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. “Open.” he hisses against your mouth, so angry. 

It’s as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil’ opening for Satoru to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Satoru’s iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.

Because shit, let it be known that Gojo Satoru has perfect aim - except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of your mouth, gliding his thumb to smear it all over your lips.

“How cute.” Satoru coos, eyes hooded. He gives your pouty mouth a final, chaste peck, sucking softly on your bottom lip. Chuckling, “Makin’ me almost forget you were locking lips with some other bitch earlier.”

And Satoru has the audacity to laugh - laugh - hoarse, and humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat, “Yer right, though, m’not your boyfriend.” He leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through his long lashes, “But that doesn’t make you any less mine.”

Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes him is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on his lap. Your legs trembling around his thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy. 

“Since ya like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-” Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist - tight. “-let’s see how you like mine.”

“What- oh ngh- fuck-” you’re gasping when he just starts dragging your sloppy hips down his thigh. Long, harsh movements that don’t even ease you into it. 

“Shit.” Satoru groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into his skin already. He’s angling his head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. “This damn thing is-” Pulling - tearing. “-in the way.”

You’re gasping when Satoru pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around his finger like a badge of honor. “You’re- ngh- buying me a new one.”

“Oh, anything for you.” he’s grazing his teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on his thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- “Or is that what you wanted me to say?”

And shit Satoru is so mean with the way he gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips. “Why don’t you ask that new boytoy of yours to buy you some, huh?” 

“B-but-”

“B-b-but-” he mocks, bouncing his knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down his long thighs faster. Puffy folds spreading so shamefully open - so shamefully good. “You were so happy being such a slut for him before, right?” Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made his cock twitch wildly. “So why are you here? With me?”

You’re stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Satoru didn’t like that. Almost as much as he didn’t like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard.

“Oh? Playing shy now?” Smack! “What happened to the slut from earlier, huh?” Bouncing his knee faster. The pads of his long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for him to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Tha’s alright, pretty. I get it.” 

And Satoru - mean, mean Satoru - waits until your features soften in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to bring her out.”

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, nails digging into Satoru’s shoulders when he starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “S’too- good- oh my god-”

“‘Toru’ works jus’ fine, sweetheart.” 

But oh for how confident Satoru was talking you into insanity, he can’t help but gape in wonder down below him, awe-struck with how sloppy you were. He could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down his palm, that glossy sheen on his thigh. “You’re so dripping wet, pretty. Who’re you this wet for? Me or-” Satoru’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, turning your head to the adjacent wall, where Sukuna had a framed photograph of himself - because of course he did. “-him?”

Fuck, Satoru can’t even be mad at the way he feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. His pretty girl, getting off on just his thigh.

Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier. So, so filthily all the way from around his knee just till where you could feel the curve of his massive erection. 

He doesn’t even have to move your hips for you anymore - you’re moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes him smirk, “Heh, such a slutty lil’ thing aren’t ya? Gettin’ off on my thigh?” Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, “N’ who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a whimpering “Y-you.”

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. And Satoru’s only quirking his fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. “Yeah tha’s more like it. Louder now - who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

“You-”

“N’ who got you this fucking wet?”

You cry out when Satoru angles his leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down his thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of his pants. Ruthless.

“F-fuck you, Toru!”

“Mhmmm, thought so.” His hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs burning lightly now - faster -  fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. “Cuz you’re mine aren’t ya?”

You cum so hard - violent, even - that you don’t realize when you are. Just that you’re letting out a broken sob of Satoru’s name while he toys so relentlessly with your clit through your high.

Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you’re almost tearing apart his button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru’s thigh. And, fuck, you’ve never felt so much like such a slut than when you look down to catch the glossy coating all over it. 

One that Satoru swipes thumb at - pooling the syrupy slick on his fingerpad before bringing up to his pretty pink lips and-

Pop! 

“Mmm.” He groans, muffled. “Fuck, you’re so sweet - could taste you forever.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste, “Almost makes me forget that you didn’t answer my last question.”

And you don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the way that Satoru throws you around so easily, pushing you back until you’re splayed out against the plush mattress, shaky legs on his shoulders, arms around his neck. Or from the realization that shit, you’d been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer his question. 

“I- I didn’t hear.” you make up an excuse, heels digging into the muscles of Satoru’s shoulders now. “I’m yours, Tor-”

“Now now, don’t try that with me, sweetheart.” Satoru cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside his neck while he pulls off your dress and bra. You didn’t need those, anyway. “Guess I just hafta prove it to ya, right?”

And fuck was he well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s peeling down his drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too. 

Satoru hisses when his painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were his. 

“Ya like what you see?” he notices your fixed stare at his cock. Greedily following the precum beading at his fat, red head, making its way between Satoru’s prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- “Hey there.” You’re startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers being snapped in your face, “As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part.”

And fuck you could see why it was.

Because it felt so sinful to watch with bated breath at the way Satoru fists his swollen cock, gliding his weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over him. Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing. 

“P-please, Toru-” you whine around the fifth time he’s “accidentally” nudging at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more- “Enough teasing, jus’ wan’ you ngh- inside me.”

To Satoru, no sweeter words have been spoken. But he still manages to curl his lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self. “Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you’re pussy’s trynna suck me up - who couldn’t wait to bail on me tonight for some other hah- jerk.” He presses his thick tip down on your clit, on purpose. “Would’ve fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y’know? What a shame.” 

You can only watch when he draws his hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole. “What a shame m’gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Toru-” you keen, back arching off the bed at the stretch. Satoru’s girth was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feel was the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing cock pushing between your legs. “God, s’too big-”

“No no no, you don’t get to say that.” Satoru spits into your open mouth, hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully himself deeper. “You don’t get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yourself.” His words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and faster as his hips do, “Not when you decided t-to act like a lil’ slut hah- n’ guess what?”

Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren’t sure. All you know is that you’re mewling up tearily at such a feral Satoru, “W-what?”

To which he only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. Dangerously still. “N’ that means m’gonna fuck you like one.”

Before you can even react, he’s pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long. 

“Oh- fuck I can’t take it- all-” you cry helplessly as he keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of his cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while he keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not daring to even slow down. Not until Satoru’s well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against his thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass. 

“See? Knew you could take it, you always do.”

And then he’s moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. Satoru was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the mattress. 

Hands keeping your hips still to let him ram his entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over and-

“Still don’t think you’re not- fuck- mine, sweetheart?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around his cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust, “Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are.”

You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, “I-I am yours, Toru- ngh-”

But he only brings his ear closer, “What was th-that? Didn’t hah- hear you-” Hands pushing apart your legs until they burned at the stretch. Until you were so shamefully on display for him, “You hah- need more convincing? Oh, I see.”

“I don’t! Oh- T-ngh”

It’s all you can do to let out teary, broken moans when Satoru rolls his hips harder. So carefully practiced with the way he locates your sweet spot easily. 

“Yeah? You hah- like that?” he groans, words punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust. All hitting the bulls-eye each and every time. “Like me f-fuckin’ you like you’re mine?”

At this point, you’re scrambling at the damp sheets, the headrest, Satoru’s shoulders - just anything and everything to hold onto whatever’s left of your sanity - which seemed to be slipping away with each press of Satoru’s head against your g-spot. 

But it still wasn’t enough.

Languidly, he brings a hand over to pinch your ravaged clit between two fingers. Having you whine so prettily with each roll of his fingertips. “Answer the question, pretty.”

“Yes!” you gasp, feet kicking at the sheer overstimulation. “I love it- ngh shit shit shit- I love it, Toru- love it so much.”

Shit, you might’ve just broken him.

Because while you may have thought that this answer would calm your Satoru down a bit - it only made him snap. Eyes widening, hips stuttering, swollen lips falling into such a fucked-out oh! - he looked like an absolute wreck.

Letting out a low, throaty groan of, “Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the ngh- death of me.” With this, he’s pressing his sweaty forehead onto yours, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs that match his merciless cadence. “Wish they could fuck- see you like this.” Ramming inside you harder - meaner. Giving your clit a light smack! before he starts playing with it once more. “I’d ah- fuck you in front of all those losers that think they have a chance just to show off how good you are f’me. Because you’re fuck fuck fuck- my good girl, right?”

You nod as much as you can, head just spinning with each brush of Satoru’s dick against your sensitive spots. Fingers twirling at your clit just as dizzyingly. Letting your slick glisten all over his wrist - his painfully squeezing balls - all the way up to his abs with how hard he was fucking into your tight pussy.

The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up Satoru’s aching cock like that. 

“No one ngh- can fuck you like this.” Satoru sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, like it pained him to keep talking, but he couldn’t stop anyway. “No one.” Milking you harder and harder like he was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. “Cuz m’yours.”

And he repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on his swollen cock. Plushy walls squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.

Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, “N’ you’re mine.” You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and Satoru’s voice. Like a mantra, “You’re mine- you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine- fuck you’re mine.”

Not straying too far behind, Satoru cums and he thinks he sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel. 

So sweetly whining into his ear when he’s painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy.

Blinking back his vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of his hips. 

“Wan’ go again-” Satoru groans. Only fucking his seed deeper and deeper and oh- he didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think he could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. “F-fuck I needa go again. Swee-”

SLAM!

“Woah, seems the two of you are having a looota fun.”

Still not pulling out, both you and Satoru scramble to cover yourselves up with Sukuna’s now-soaked sheets. Well, mainly cover you up, for Satoru had no shame in staring the other man down. Scoffing out, “The fuck are you fuck- don’ squeeze me so hard, pretty- the fuck are you here for?”

“It’s my room, n’ I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sukuna lets the door shut so agonizingly slow, flashing the two of you a lazy, devilish grin. “Besides - this is my date, after all.”

A/N. Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[your-internet-bf]

Thinking about showing everyone what a whore you are.

Hanging out with friends, everyone is having a good time, you're sitting next to me on the couch. I turn to the group and say, "hey, watch this." I look you in the eyes and tell you to spread.

Obediently, you open your legs for the whole party to see, smiling so prettily at me. Just the way I trained you. Everyone's laughing, but you're so drunk, you don't really understand why.

I reach a hand between your legs, rubbing so sweetly, and say to everyone else, "come on, come feel how wet she is!"

So our friends gather around, chuckling and teasing as they all lean in to feel you for themselves. I rest one hand on top of your head - you're doing so well for me.

Your whole body is suffused with warmth, now. From the booze and weed, sure, but there's another warmth, isn't there, building inside you. You barely even notice as I help you out of your clothes, but you certainly notice when my cock slaps down on your tummy.

"Hey, wait," you laugh, and as your mouth opens fingers find their way inside. They're not mine. You aren't sure whose they are. There's a raw attitude building in the room, and more and more hands are on you every second, more lips, more probing fingers.

With a jolt, you feel me push inside. You've never quite gotten used to my size, and it feels so fucking good as I stretch you out inside, pressing in every direction, and you can't help but moan with my strong, deep strokes.

Another cock is by your mouth, pushing at your lips, then another. Someone grabs your wrist and puts your hand on their cock, and someone is riding your other hand, now. I press down on your tummy as I fuck you, and hands caress your hips, your moans obstructed by the cocks in your mouth. You're such a good girl that you try to focus through the pleasure to stroke what's in your hands. People are laughing, aren't you proud to be the heart of the party?

Abruptly, the cock in your hand spasms, and you feel the hot, sticky cum shoot onto your bare tummy. Your breath catches in your throat, and with three quick, perfect strokes inside you, you cum, cum for me, writhing beneath the hands and attention of all your friends, and as you contract around me I can't help it either. You hear me moan something, indistinct over the noise of the party, over the noise of your exhibition of lust, and you feel it shoot deep inside you, spraying your womb, dripping out as I continue to thrust into you.

I pull out, slapping your aching cunt, watching you flinch. You're begging now, you need more, don't you? I half pull, half carry you over to the coffee table, and push you down on one side.

I lift one leg up, and as I force your tight little ass to spread for my thick, veiny cock, I grab your hair and pull your head back. You feel pressure as someone else, you don't even know who and I won't let you see, slides their cock inside you, my cum still dripping out. Their cock isn't nearly as thick, but it's long, long, long. You gasp as our friend pushes your cervix up into you, fucking you quick and deep as I impale you on my cock.

You start crying, hands covering you again, kisses on your neck, your shoulder blades, your spine, your fingers, and you cum again, intoxicated by the attention, losing yourself in the hedonism of it all...

After you don't know how long, you feel me pull out. You're not even sure if I came or not, but the space is filled soon enough. As you feel the warm wetness of a tongue caress between your legs, you overhear me on the phone.

"Yeah, man, get over here. Bring everyone. Oh, don't bring any condoms. You're not gonna believe this..."

[andthebubbles]

- baby, you're a haunted house, chapter 5, by spit-kitten

[cherrygirlfriend]

answer the call pairing: reader x bsf!rafe synopsis: rafe fucking his best friend while she's on the phone with her boyfriend warnings: smut, piv, unprotected sex, possessive rafe MDNI! - wc: 1k it's the fourth day of my birthday week celebration!!! god, i spent the entire day running around my apartment doing chores bc i refuse!!! to do chores on my actual birthday n now i'm so tired i might go right to sleep ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

rafe had you on all fours on your canopy bed, holding onto one of the posts for dear life as he pounded into you, the bed swaying every time he thrust his cock into you, one of his hands gripping onto your hair while the other rested on your ass, occasionally giving it a sharp smack, causing you to let out a noise that was between a gasp and a yelp.

"aww, look at you." rafe cooed mockingly with a tug at your hair, the blonde panting behind you "so fucking desperate for me to fuck you. bet your little loser boyfriend can't fuck you like you need to be fucked, hm?"

you hated the words that were leaving his lips, but you couldn't deny that he was right; your boyfriend definitely couldn't satisfy you the way rafe always seemed to be able to do, he couldn't hit that spongy spot that caused you to curl your toes, or rub your clit in the way that caused your back to arch off the bed. not like rafe did.

"say it," rafe commanded, "say that he can't-"

rafe let out an annoyed growl when he was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing on the nightstand. his initial plan was to tell you to ignore it, but when he saw who it was, he got a whole new idea, a grin taking over your lips.

"answer it."

"w-what?" you looked back at rafe with furrowed brows, thinking that he must be joking, but as he continued to pound into you, there was no sign of hesitation on his face, only a wide, cruel grin.

you reached for your phone from the nightstand, rafe slowing his pace as you looked at the caller id with widened eyes, almost waiting for it to change into something else, but clear as day, there was your boyfriend's name, along with the contact photo you set for him, a picture of you two taken at a carnival.

"do it before i do it for you." rafe mumbled as he bent to press a small kiss to the back of your neck, grabbing your ass roughly. and hesitantly, you pressed the green button visible on the screen as rafe pulled out of you.

"h-hi, babe." you said, trying your best to steady your breathing as rafe teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, the hand that was in your hair just moments ago going down to rub your clit.

"hey, everything good?" the voice on the other line asked, and you had to hold back a moan by biting down on your lip as rafe's middle finger brought some of your arousal to your clit, starting to slowly rub the puffy bud.

"yeah, everything's good." you chuckled, "i was just working out."

when you said that, you felt rafe's tip slowly starting to enter you, stretching your walls as you tried not to let out any noise, your boyfriend going on a tirade about something that you honestly couldn't give two shits about at that moment.

rafe continued moving in and out of you, at first at a slow pace, slowly building it up; all the while your boyfriend was talking, and you occasionally let out noncommittal hums and 'mmhm's, but the harder rafe was fucking you, the harder it was to concentrate on anything other than him, and trying to keep quiet felt like rocket science at that point, and you were starting to taste blood in your mouth from how hard you were biting down on your lip.

"i-i gotta go." you said into the phone, nearly panting, "i'll see you later." you said, hanging up before he could even get a word in, feeling the band in your stomach getting closer and closer to snapping, letting out a moan you'd held in for too long the moment that you were off the call as rafe started pounding into you relentlessly.

"say it." rafe commanded behind you, your eyes squeezed shut, your mind hazy with pleasure, confused as to what he was talking about. "say that your boyfriend can't fuck you the way i fuck you."

you were a panting mess as he continued hitting the spot inside of you that only he seemed able to reach; a part of you didn't want to say it, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but the moment the palm of his hand landed on your ass, you yelped, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

"h-he-"

"nuh-uh. your boyfriend."

you let out a small whine when he corrected you, trying to steady your erratic breathing as he continued thrusting in and out of you.

"m-my boyfriend... can't fuck me the way you do..."

"atta girl." rafe chuckled behind you, and the way his fingers continued circling your clit while he pounded into you from behind was getting almost overwhelming, and rafe could tell that you were getting closer by the way you were starting to clench around him, the blonde letting out a groan, "gonna come in this pretty pussy..." he mumbled, "she's practically begging me to... wants me to show her who she belongs to..."

a part of you wanted to protest, but you were so close that your mind was clouded by all the bliss he was making you feel, the world around you getting so hazy that you couldn't bring yourself to care as long as you got to come.

and as soon as you felt the band in your stomach snap, rafe's cock buried deep inside of you, he couldn't help the almost animalistic groan that left his lips, warm pumps of cum filling you up

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but It is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.