#and now I’m going back and my schedule is even MORE insane than before

[twinklingwatermellon]

urghghgh

[joemama-2]

— the g (spot) in gyno

credit: _3aem on twitter

pairing — gynecologist! gojo x female reader

synopsis — you didn’t anticipate this is how getting your first ever pap smear would be like. soaked, shaking, and moaning. but hey—your doctor’s hot as fuck and dangerously good with his fingers, and his mouth is even filthier.

tags/warnings — smut, fingering, dirty talk in a medical way, slight praise, very unprofessional & unethical gojo, a little dubcon-y, power imbalance, oral (f. receiving). dividers by @/enchanthings

wc — 4.5k

a/n: s/o to remmm @/redrrem for helping me proofread + making this more slutty. xoxo mwah

Ever since you moved out of your suburban hometown and into the big city, you’ve had many more changes to get used to than you had initially thought. 

Someone taking your undesignated parking spot, the insane coffee prices, and waking up to the annoying sound of traffic in the early morning.

Another change that came with your move is finding not only a new primary care doctor or a hospital you can now call your go-to, but also finding a new gynecologist. 

And, unluckily for you, you haven’t been to one since…ever. 

You’re a bit afraid, which is natural, considering the many horror stories you’ve heard about metallic devices being shoved into your vagina, which hurt like a bitch, or how, on the contrary, it’s not painful at all. 

You know, you know, you need to go. And you won’t deny that you’ve been pushing this dreaded appointment off ever since you turned the right age. 

But now is the time. You’ve moved. You’re on your own in the big city, and times have changed. No more having to rely on your mother to schedule an appointment for you.

Your legs still feel wobbly as your name gets called. Standing from the chair you’ve been in for the past 20 minutes and following the kind woman in scrubs. She leads you to the back and into a designated room. 

Before you enter, you catch sight of the silver-plated "Dr. Gojo” plastered on the door. 

The first thing she does is check your height, then your weight, and lastly your blood pressure. 

That’s normal, you’re used to it. You reassure yourself and your pulsing heart rate. 

After the initial examination, she takes the strap off your arm, rolling over to the computer, and that’s when she begins to ask you questions. 

“So…Ms. Y/N, correct?”

You nod, fingers fiddling in your lap as you sit upright. “Correct.”

“I assume this is your first time?” she asks with a reassuring smile, noticing your fidgeting.

“It is,” you awkwardly laugh. “I guess I’ve just been…nervous, that's all.” 

She smiles and looks at you. “That’s completely normal. Many women have a hard time scheduling their first gynecologist appointment. But I just want to assure you that we will try our absolute best to ensure you are comfortable throughout the appointment. And of course, this is for your safety. We’ll be able to determine if—”

“Yeah, yeah. Diseases. Cancer. I know.” After you’ve just so rudely cut her off, that’s when you shamefully sigh and scratch your neck. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m just nervous.”

The woman nods in understanding, focusing back on the screen. After a few silent moments, she clears her throat. “When was the first day of your last period?”

You think for a second, then answer: “About two weeks ago now.”

She nods slowly. “And are they regular?”

“Hmm, mostly. I guess? Sometimes I’m a few days late, never more than a week.”

“I see, how long do they usually last?”

“Maybe a few days... Or even a week?”

“Any specifics?” She’s typing on the keyboard. 

You purse your lips in thought. “I guess…around five to six days at most. Somewhere around there. I don’t really know.”

“Do you experience heavy bleeding or severe cramps?”

“Both,” you slump your shoulders. “But some periods I feel nothing, and my bleeding is less heavy.”

“And are you sexually active?”

Your cheeks burn stupidly for some reason, gulping. It’s a slightly difficult question, in all honesty. 

You’re not a virgin, but you’re also not getting dicked down frequently. “I’ve been celibate for more than a year now.”

The nurse, humming again, continues typing her fingers against the keyboard. The next few minutes are full of her questions about your sexual life, any symptoms or concerns you may have, medication you’ve taken, family history, and even mental health. 

You audibly sigh in relief when she finishes up, but this was the easy part. 

Now, left alone, having already removed your bra and underwear from your tank top and skirt, you’re actually fucking terrified. 

You’re forced to wait in agony and anticipation, trying to focus your mind on whatever shit you’re watching on your phone. 

What’s even worse is that you were informed that your gynecologist is a man. You wanted a woman. 

“Great, fucking great.” You scoff under your breath, fisting the thin layer of bed sheet beneath you.  

You try to think on the bright side of things. Getting a Pap smear and a breast exam during the same session. It’s like killing two birds with one stone. Or more like killing one bird with two stones.  

Your head whips up the second you hear a knock. The door handle turns, opening from the other side, as you scramble to turn your phone off and into your purse.  

Your mouth dries. 

“Hello, Y/N. I’m Dr. Satoru Gojo. I’ll be your primary gynecologist. How are you today?”

You can’t even respond, eyes shamelessly fawning over the man in front of you.

Tall, lean, extremely handsome. Soft, white hair pushed back lazily, but elegantly. Thin-rimmed glasses on the tip of his nose that barely do anything to obscure the fact that his eyes are just so, so blue.

Standing before you, in a long white coat with scrubs underneath, with a smile that showcases his pearly white teeth and his dimples on his cheeks. You can smell his expensive cologne from here. 

Sitting on the rolling chair the nurse was on previously, legs spread slightly, he regards you with a friendly gaze that leaves you wondering…This man is your gynecologist???

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for your response.

You blink rapidly, words broken as you manage to stutter out a response. “O-oh. I—um—I’m great, thank you. And you?”

“I’m doing wonderful, thank you for asking. It’s a very hot day today, isn’t it?” He fans himself and looks out the window. All you’re focused on is his fingers. “The summer heat is getting brutal.”

You force out a laugh when he does, though it doesn’t sound as genuine as his. “Yeah, really, really…hot….” Your voice trails into a soft whisper, hypnotized by the way he adjusts the watch on his wrist, exposing just a peek of forearm muscle and veins. 

From his peripheral vision, he glances at you. Oh no. You’ve been caught staring. 

He simply chuckles softly and rolls over to the computer to look over your chart. “So, this is your first time, correct?”

“Correct…”

“I'll walk you through every step, okay?”

You nod, his honeyed voice calming your nerves. 

“We’ll start with a breast examination, then move on to your pap smear. I’ll step out and give you privacy to undress and put on this gown.” 

He opens a cabinet nearby and hands you the folded piece of fabric. His fingers brushing against you, making you flinch. Maybe it’s your delusional side, but you could’ve sworn his touch lingered—and his eyes sharpened just slightly behind his glasses. 

You’re so not ready.

The moment his cold fingers feel the underside of your breast, you can’t help but softly gasp. 

That doesn’t deter him. He mutters softly, “Does anything hurt?”

You shake your head, your throat dry. 

He hums. “Good, if anything does, please let me know.” Then he uses his other hand to lightly prod and feel the sensitive, soft skin of your breasts. Slim fingers move methodically, fingertips just barely pressing deeper into you, examining the areas for any unusual or concerning lumps. 

He shifts closer on his rolling stool, knees brushing against the edge of the exam table. You’re completely hypersensitive. From the antiseptic smell emanating from the room, to the way your heart is beating rapidly, the flutter of his pale lashes, and lastly, on the focused creases between his eyebrows. 

And of course, his hands on you just have to feel better than any other time you’ve been felt up before. 

Granted, he’s doing an examination, not ‘feeling you up’. And you’re a little—well, very—touch deprived. So there’s a perfectly good excuse as to why your thighs squeeze together from under the gown, fists bunching the material up and doing your ultimate best to hold back a whimper when the pad of his finger flicks against your hardened nipple. 

“Any tenderness here?”

Somehow, you manage a response through a shaky voice. “N-No, Dr. Gojo.”

Another faint hum of acknowledgment. “You’re sensitive, which is completely normal, no need to worry. Especially during exams like these.”

You nod silently, feeling a puff of warm air that he exhales. Each gentle, circular rotation from him feels like a restrained study. Moving from the outer edge to the inner, until his fingers skim over your perky nipples.

You’re almost tempted to close your eyes. To tilt your head back and ask him not to stop, but you restrain yourself. You swallow hard. 

“Skin tone is even, no visible discoloration. Your tissue is soft, no abnormalities.”

“That’s good,” you exhale shakily, eyes fluttering. You’re not so sure if it’s in response to him or his hands. 

He raises his pale blue eyes, a smile creeping up his lips. Focusing on the other side, he repeats his ministrations. His movements never rushed, they’re slow and deliberate with an occasional squeeze. 

“Consistent texture. I sense no masses. Your breasts are symmetrical,” his eyes move back down to your boobs in front of him, a constant. “You’re doing very well. Just keep breathing, okay?”

Your chest rises and falls in a stuttering way. He glances back up. Just once. 

“If you’re holding your breath, that may cause some tension. Try to relax for me.”

“Right. Relax,” you repeat in a quieter tone of voice. 

Heat pools in your belly, squeezing your thighs tighter. He runs his finger across your nipple again, flicking it in a clinical way to test your reactions. 

And boy, is your small gasp a reaction for him. Too bad your eyes are closed, you would’ve seen the boner he carefully hides in his slacks. 

“Highly reactive to stimulation. Again—this is very normal.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, his hands pull away, and you finally breathe right. Slowly opening your eyes, you feel your cheeks red, a small wetness between your clenched thighs that makes you panic at the thought of him seeing it. 

Does he smell it? 

You make eye contact, his tongue running over his bottom lip. His white teeth peeking out from his semi-smile. It’s like he knows the effect he has on you; he just doesn’t point it out. 

At least he’s somewhat saving your dignity. 

“That concludes the breast exam.” He confirms in approval, noting down whatever observations he’s made, before moving on to the next half of the examination.

You let out a sigh of relief, letting your muscles relax, watching as Dr. Gojo reaches for a pair of fresh latex gloves, before turning to you once again.

“We’ll move on to the internal portion next.” His voice is smooth as butter, professional, and friendly. You blink, your brain a bit foggy. His head tilts. “Unless you’d like a moment to catch your breath?”

God, just the way he asks that question. How his voice lowered and softened into honey silk. 

“No, I…I’m okay to move on now.”

His smile turns crooked. “Excellent.”

Completely bare from the waist down, the gown that once offered you the slightest bit of dignity now lifted up to your hips to present your bare core to the man sitting in front of it. Your feet were held up, planted on the stirrups, legs up and apart, and you’re left blinking up at the blank white ceiling. 

You hear some shifting from down there, assuming he’s getting everything he needs ready for the exam.  

Your bare thighs prickle under the cold air, and from your own growing sense of anticipation. 

Gloves snap against skin, a subtle clink of metal against a tray. 

“This may feel just a tiny bit cold. But if you’re uncomfortable or feel any sort of pain or discomfort, tell me immediately.”

You gulp. “Okay.”

His chair wheels closer between your thighs, his gloved hand gently resting on your thigh. “I’ll begin with the visual exam, just checking to make sure everything looks safe and healthy.”

“Okay,” you say again, as if it’s the only word you do know right now. 

You bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. You can’t help but tense when two fingers carefully part your folds, hips twitching—an involuntary response. He pats your thigh gently.

The cool air hitting your intimate area leaves you with goosebumps all over, unintentionally clenching your pussy as you feel his hot breath against your inner thigh. 

“Your labia appears healthy. No irritation, lesions, or abnormal discharge,” he clinically notes to himself. His two fingers spread you a bit more, wheeling closer. 

You can practically feel the heat of his gaze, your breath stuttering. It feels embarrassing. You try to reason with yourself once more that this is mandatory, just another check up for your own health, but fuck—getting examined like this, by a man this gorgeous, it feels different. 

Even worse when he says:

“You’re already lubricating naturally. That’s a very good sign, it means your body’s responding well.”

God, just kill me now. 

He pauses, then asks softly. “Do you wish for me to stop?”

“No,” you whisper. 

A low purr. “Alright.”

You hear latex against metal. “Now you'll feel just some slight pressure. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

You mentally brace yourself. 

Inhaling sharply as he presses the speculum into your entrance. It’s coated in lubricant, making the process somewhat easier. You’re still tense, however. 

“Relax your muscles, I’ve got you.” He pats your knee now. 

Well, that’s fucking hard to do when he’s putting a metal device inside your pussy. 

It’s cold, foreign. The dull slide of the metal instrument still manages to make you cringe and tense instinctively. His free hand that rubs your knee manages to ground you, even if just for a little bit. 

It slides in deeper in a controlled, careful manner. You wince. And he finally settles it in place. 

“Almost done, okay? Just a deep breath for me.”

Then, he gently opens the speculum, effectively widening your entrance to his focused gaze. The stretching of it makes your body and mind go rigid, a wheeze leaving your lungs as you fist the thin sheet laid beneath you. 

You want to just clamp your thighs together, to just push the object out. Somehow, you withstand. 

“You’re doing very well for me,” he praises, his voice smooth and even. “…cervix is high and centred. No inflammation. Looks healthy.”

He’s silent for a beat, and then: “We’ll take the Pap smear sample now.”

You nod, but your body stays stiff as a brush touches deep inside, brushing lightly, strangely. Not painful, but so intimate you could scream.

“Alright,” he finally says, retracting the brush and then closing the speculum before slowly sliding it out.

Instant relief washes over you, letting out an audible breath you were holding in for who knows how long. However, he doesn’t wheeled away yet. 

“And now, I’m going to perform the bimanual exam next. Just two fingers inside, and the other hand will press down on your abdomen. This allows me to check the size and position of your uterus and ovaries.”

You nod again, more dizzy than anything.

A pause. “Still okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathe.

Then his fingers are back—two gloved digits sliding in slowly, steadily, and deeply. They fill you quickly, curling slightly inside you while his other hand presses gently down over your lower stomach. 

“You’re tight,” he murmurs, still sounding like he’s merely observing facts. “No tenderness. Cervix is firm but not rigid… The uterus feels normal. No abnormalities detected. Good response.”

You let out a shaky breath. The pressure of his touch is maddening. Not rough. Just exact.

“You’re clenching again. Try to relax around me.”

You whimper slightly as his fingers curl just a little more deliberately, pressing gently against the front wall.

“Very sensitive here,” he murmurs. “Highly reactive. Normal, but worth noting for future visits.”

“I-Is this…is this really part—I mean—necessary?” You manage to get out, voice strained. 

He chuckles gently. “It is all part of the job. Remember, tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” He eventually glances up at you again, noticing the way your face is as red as a tomato, and how you look like you’re holding something back, albeit barely. 

He likes the look in your eyes. Loves it even.

And unbeknownst to you, his cock twitches. 

He manages to keep his composure, looking back down at you spread before him, how your slick coats his latex-gloved fingers. Your scent is beginning to make him dizzy, and he almost wants to pull out and lick his fingers clean. 

He holds back. 

He’s a professional, remember?

“Internal temperature is warm. Muscles are responsive.” His fingers twist up slightly. “There.”

A sound catches in your throat. 

“Found it,” he says simply, as if identifying a sample on a slide. “You’re particularly reactive here. Let’s test the consistency of that response.”

He starts up a slow, controlled rhythm—his fingers moving upward, pressing with devastating precision against your G-spot.

You bite your lip, your body jerking with every press. 

“Pelvic contractions are increasing,” he observes. “You’re clenching harder around my fingers. Excellent neurological response.”

“D-Doctor—” you whimper.

“Shhh,” he coos, face leaning closer to your dripping heat, savoring the slick sounds of his fingers exiting, entering, curling, then exiting again. 

The next few seconds are agony, pure agony. Because, sure, this is an exam. But are they usually this long? Do they usually feel this good? And does your doctor always finger your G-spot with ease until you’re dripping out onto the bed? 

“Hypersensitivity right along the anterior wall. Fascinating.” He murmurs lowly, as if the way he moves his fingers in and out of you was part of the examination all along. “And every time I do…this—“ his two digits curl, smirking when he hears the hitch of your breath and sees the jerk of your hips. “You tense up. Means your nerves are firing just perfectly.”

“This…this feels…..”

“Good?” 

You can’t help yourself this time. A surprised moan escaping your lips when his thumb comes into the picture, lazily skimming over your clit with enough force to make you practically yearn for more. 

You hadn’t expected that. Especially that. Not during an exam. 

“Apologies, that wasn’t part of the plan,” he murmurs more so to himself, thumb barely hovering above your bud. “But your body is begging for more stimulation. Your clitoris is swollen and hot to the touch. I’d be remiss not to note this down.”

When you whimper again, his eyes flicker up, half-lidded. A slight smirk against his glossy lips. 

“Still with me?” 

“U-uh…huh…” you pant, your hips shamelessly rutting up against his fingers. You need more. 

His smile becomes thinner, eyes glinting with something hidden behind them. “Then I’ll continue. Neurological response is reaching its peak, I’ll apply more pressure now.”

Your toes curl in the stir-ups, head tilting back with your mouth parted in a quiet mewl. The tip of his fingers hit that special spot so effortlessly, and the way he talks as if what he’s doing is completely normal, it makes you feel warmer. Wetter. It makes you want something else. Maybe even for his cock to replace his fingers.  

“P-Please—”

“Do you need me to stop?”

You shake your head helplessly. “N-No—I just—” 

“You’re pulsing,” he croons. “Try to hold on just a bit longer, can you do that for me?”

“No…!” You cry out, your hand shooting down to hold his wrist. Your body is moving on its own at this point. You moan again when his middle finger rubs your G-spot, back arching off the examination table. 

“I think you can,” he merely suggests, his thumb swirling your clit. 

You see stars, wetness prickling at your eyes. 

“Clitoral sensitivity is elevated. Likely from prolonged internal and external stimulation.”

Your hips shift, rutting against the heel of his palm. You’re conscious of the way you clench down around his fingers, like you’re trying to suck him in and bring them deeper. 

In your mind, it’s all a jumbled mess. You’re aware of what you’re doing—of what he’s doing. Questioning if this is appropriate in the first place, if he’s even a damn gynecologist. 

But this far in, you’re only focused on one thing. 

Your voice is barely a whisper. “Dr. Gojo, I—”

“I know, I know. You’re overwhelmed, correct? That’s normal.” His fingers hit your spongy wall, rubbing and curling. “However, I am surprised you haven’t orgasmed yet. Maybe my fingers aren’t doing that good of a job?” 

He chuckles at his own shitty joke, all the while you’re completely falling apart. 

“This is still a part of the exam,” he says again, but softer this time. More dangerous. “I’m checking your response to prolonged internal stimulation. Monitoring consistency. Depth. Pressure. Pleasure.”

And just like that, he brings his fingers out, thumb withdrawing from you. 

It feels like a blow to your pussy, a physical punch that leaves you winded and panting and broken. It’s completely devastating. You’re left clenching around nothing but air, desperately begging for something to fill you once more. A whine claws up your throat, raw and utterly needy. 

Before you can even question anything or attempt to regather your bearings…

He slides back in. 

Faster. Harder. 

Your loud, broken sob that morphs into a moan echoes off the walls of the office. “Dr!”

The wet, filthy squelchy sound of your cunt swallowing his long digits welcomes his ears. He sighs in blissfulness. His fingers drive into you, knuckles deep, curling—dragging—along that same pulsing spot with surgical precision. Your walls tighten violently around him, trying to hold him in, to milk him like it’s his cock instead, your body betraying your mind completely.

You can’t stop the tears that now trickle down your cheeks. The overstimulation, the embarrassment, the need. Your hips twitch again, greedy for more, even as your legs shake helplessly in the stirrups. “W-wait…I…this isn’t…”

The lewd sounds are slick and steady, timed with your ragged breathing and broken gasps. And somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to say ‘stop’, to tell him this isn’t right. 

Maybe this is normal? Maybe this always happens. It is your first time, so everything probably feels way more intense than—

Spit!

A filthy warm, deliberate wad of saliva hits your shivering cunt with abrupt forcefulness. It makes you wheeze, jolting. 

“Hah…look at that,” his voice is low, ragged—almost breathless in awe. “Oh, right. Sorry, intrusive thoughts. But I was right, you contracted again. It makes me wonder...”

“Dr. Gojo—!” You whine out, eyes closing forcefully. “F-Feels—hah—good!”

His spit slides down your creamy slit slowly, meeting his gloved fingers, and the rest of it wetting the sheet below. He studies the way your pussy tenses, how it flutters like it needs something bigger—thicker. 

“There it is again,” he whispers reverently. “You like that?” His eyes flick upwards, taking in your fucked-out expression. Eyes half-lidded, cheeks red, panting for air, your tongue peeking out from your pink parted lips. 

His fingers fuck into you with slow precision, letting the obscene squelches take over and act as background noise to your inevitable unraveling. 

“Now, just Imagine if I let my mouth take over.” His voice is pure filth now, drawn out and dark with desire. “I wouldn’t even stop to breathe, you know? I’d spit, lick, suck this pretty little clit until you came all over my face. Would you like that, sweetheart? You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

You nod without much thought, hips bucking up again as you chase your high. The speed of his fingers slows down, allowing you some moments to breathe. But all of that is thrown out the window. 

You should’ve expected it. He did ask. And you did nod. 

But you didn’t think he’d actually—

“Ngh!”

A cry tears through your throat. 

His lips making contact with your slippery cunt is what you register first. Then his tongue lapping up the slick, swirling around your quivering hole, then up to your puffy clit. His lips wrap around the bud—wasting no time in absolutely eating you the fuck out. 

His nose is shoved against your skin, muffled groans mixing in with your whimpering sighs and gasps. 

Your brain short-circuits, back arching completely off the exam table. The flick of his experienced tongue—both slow and indulgent—absolutely wrecks you. “Oh my god—” you gasp, voice cracking. 

You can faintly make out the low muffle of his chuckle through your dazed mind. 

His mouth alternates. Switching from a long, slippery stripe up your cunt to hungrily sucking on your clit like it’s his favorite snack. Wet, popping noises fill the room. 

His moans are stifled, his so-called ‘professionalism’ wavering by the second and his hands—the ones that felt so precise and methodical just minutes ago—now dig into your thighs, forcing them open for his impatient mouth. 

He works you with obscene devotion, admiring the squelch of his hot tongue against your soaked flesh. 

“F-fuck, Doctor—please—” you whimper, hands fisting the sheet beneath you, head tossing back against the paper-covered cushion.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. He’s like a man possessed. His tongue curling and flicking, dragging over your clit, teasing your entrance again just to lap up the fresh slick you keep leaking for him.

“Fuck,” he groans into you, the sound so guttural and real it makes your toes curl. “You taste so fucking good—this pussy’s unreal.”

You cry out again as he sucks harshly, tongue pressing flat, lips tugging just right—and it absolutely shatters you.

Your orgasm hits hard. Harder than any you’ve experienced before. Either by your own doing, or from another man. Because this time—this time—you see stars. 

Your ears ring with vibrations. Your vision whitens out, and for a second, you think you may have died from how fucking hard you just came. 

You think you’ve stepped through the gates of heaven. Your body? Limp. Chest heaving up and down with breathless pants. You feel flushed and hot to the touch. It’s utterly violent. 

Thighs instinctively clamping shut around his head like you’re trying to save yourself from something that’s already been done. 

How cute, he thinks. 

You sob through your unravelling, hips jerking against his face as he devours every second of your release. He doesn’t pull back, instead he rides it out with his mouth locked to your cunt, swallowing everything you give him like he’ll never get enough.

Finally, your spasms fade slowly. The ringing in your ears dulls, and you can make out the ceiling of the room—the antiseptic scent invading your nostrils again. Though this time, mixed with something much more salacious. 

Your back collapses against the table. Blinking weakly, you barely manage to look down between your spread legs. 

There—your doctor—tilts his head back. His beautiful face glistens. His lips are pink, shiny, and swollen. He smiles unapologetically. 

Breathing out—shaky, satisfied, and completely drunk on you. His lashes flutter across his cheekbones as he exhales through his nose, like he just came without even being touched. 

He licks his lips in a disgustingly pornographic way. 

His voice, when it finally leaves his throat, is wrecked—raspy and hot, full of hunger not even close to being sated.

“So, I’ll see you next week for your fertility examination?” 

a/n: hope u all enjoyed this <333. wish i could’ve made it longer but this whole fic took WAYYY too long for me to completely finish 😹😹 again, ty rem for helping me proofread & brainstorm. love you!!!

taglist: @miizuzu @dickktektive @momoewn @beabamboo @ilovemyswlf3

@hazel-babbit @satorus-princess @yuhhh03 @mymoonisgrey  @yesdere

@ilperfect @satoblue @all-with-angel @nina-from-317 @httpstoyosi

@forevamsoo @aldebrana @satorusprites @bmorgonzobean @wanna-amani

@mxlktae @lilychan176 @sirencholia @saitamaswifey @zeunys

@dracosangelsworld @emochosoluvr @picoporii @zoeyflower @ehcilhc

 @privthemis @kiraflowersworld @naialace @luvleixo @ersvni

@beli-eve-ing @gojowifefrfr @blushedcheri @reactwithjan @surethingmoto

@konatakona @thisiswhereishitpostalot @slightlystressed @casssiesthings @siobhankk

[luvlyycy]

⋆｡° ✮ : you're crushing unhealthily on your new neighbor. he invites you over for some quality time and you're starting to think he wants you back. did you fall first or did he fall harder?

⋆｡° ✮ : welll wellll welllll, here is the next part of neighbor!phainon!! this one is longer than the last buuutt, i hope you all enjoy nonethless.

⋆｡° ✮ : cw ;; sex dreams, pet/play(?? phainon wants to be a dog), reader/phainon jerk it, mydei is here btw js to say hi ig, swearing, the sexual tension is crazy, reader is kinda insane but who wouldn't be with phainons sexy ass tbh

You’ve been texting Phainon back and forth for weeks, empty promises of get-togethers, only for them to be ruined by his or your work schedule. Except today, he means business.

It starts at 12 PM, and he calls you. You pick up.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” he starts, “I want you to come over.”

You giggle into the phone, “Really? No work today? Or maybe you forgot an errand.”

He sighs heavily, “I’m being serious! I’m going to make us dinner, then we’re gonna watch a movie. Yeah?”

Your hopefulness makes you think he’s setting up a date, but you know it’s just a friendly get-together.

“I could invite my co-workers!”

Exactly.

“Ohhh, that’d be cool. Bunch of dudes for me to hang out with, I am so very excited.” you say, deadpanning as hard as you possibly can.

“Ooookayy, maybe not then? I work with really nice guys though, like.. Like Mydei!”

You wait for him to say any more names.

“Just that guy?”

“Yeah, just that guy.”

“That sucks, Phainon.”

He laughs for a second, “Okay, then can you come over? Just me and you?”

You lean against the counter, placing your hand on your cheek as you just let the thoughts roam around in your Phainon-filled skull. Would this be a date? Or just a friendly thing?

You want it to be a date.

“Okay, I will.”

“Awesome, I’ll walk you over to my house right now.”

“Right now?” you choke out, eyeing your own stay-at-home outfit, “I look awful, Phainon!”

“I do too! You think me in sweatpants and a dirty tank top is appealing? I don’t think so.”

Honestly, Phainon wearing anything would be appealing, especially to you.

“God, you are actually so insufferable,” you laugh out, stuffing your face into your hand. You hear him laugh on the other line.

“You like it.”

It takes about 2 minutes after hanging up, before you hear the knock on your door. You secretly think he’s changed his clothes in that short amount of time. You open the door to see Phainon with a grin on his stupidly handsome face.

The stains on his shirt seem to be grass or dirt from gardening, or maybe his job. You aren’t sure.

“Hello, madam.”

“Hi.” You manage out. It’s insane how flustered he gets you when all he does is speak.

He bows like a knight, before tilting his head upwards with a soft smile, “Shall we?”. It matches him. Knight in shining armor, his blue eyes peeking at you with hopefulness. It causes your heart to thump quicker, and your head to reel in too many thoughts at once.

“We shall.” you mock the voice of a princess to her humble knight, and he takes your hand. You both laugh along the way to his house before hearing him groan.

“What?”

“I gotta clean these weeds.”

You feel your body flush, the heat rushing over your back as you remember that stupid dream. His groans, his grunts. The way his biceps and forearms flexed. The way his veins bulged. It repeats in your head over and over, until he snaps you out of it.

“Eh, whatever. I’ll do it later.”

He drags you into his house, and the cold air of the conditioner hits you in the face. What hits you even more is the scent. This is your first time in his house, and it certainly all smells like him. The decoration screams him. Blues and yellows adorn the walls with paintings of abstract art.

Your face must be shocked as you look around because he laughs, “Does it look different than you thought?”

“Yes!” you manage out through a laugh, “You shouldn’t be living in this small neighborhood, your house is decorated like it's a mansion.”

He stays quiet. You don’t notice it. The way his eyes soften and the way his smile widens. You don’t notice that he stares at your face as you look around.

Your eyes catch his face, and he just laughs, “I guess so. I am glad I moved here, though.”

“Why?” Your curiosity gets the best of you, and before you know it, his face hardens at the thought of why he moved here.

Why did Phainon move here?

Why does he look so upset to remember why?

“It’s complicated.”

“You, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” you wrap your hand around his, and he looks at you, his face finally easing back into the Phainon you’re used to.

“It’s fine.” he starts, inhaling sharply before speaking again, “I used to be engaged. She was one of the nicest girls I've ever met.”

The ‘was’ shoots you as odd.

He sighs heavily, “Everything was fine, we were going to move in together.” he laughs, almost like it’s a funny thought that the plan was to move in with her, like it’s a joke to him.

“It was good, y’know? For a while, I thought we were endgame. Till she went and fucked it all up. You can probably guess what she did by now.”

You don’t want to say it, for fear of bringing back pain from his past.

“Cheat?” you choke out.

“Yeah. She cheated on me. Apparently, she was doing it for fucking years. Said she wasn’t happy with our relationship or whatever. I wish she would’ve left me, y’know? What’s the point of getting engaged if you’re gonna go off and fuck some other guy,” he laughs for a second, looking down. He looks at your intertwined hands, then at your face, “That’s why I moved here. For a fresh start. Something new.”

He stares for a second.

“Something better.”

You stare back, and you swear that just for a second, his face gets closer. His breathing slows as his hand squeezes yours.

“Phainon…” you whisper out, and he just nods, “Yeah?”

“You,” you sigh when his thumb grazes your wrist, his other hand dangerously close to grabbing your waist.

“I should get started on dinner? Is that what you were gonna say?”

You nod, feeling a bit too nervous to even attempt anything further than this. He rubs your knuckles and smiles, “Okay, you can sit over there, on the couch. I’ll bring you some water and then we’ll watch some shitty rom-com.”

You laugh as he lets go of your hand to enter the kitchen, winking at you as he does. You walk to the couch, grazing your hand over the grey material before sitting down— as you eye the large flat screen, the thoughts trail through your head at rapid speeds.

Phainon had a girlfriend? He was going to be married? Who would cheat on someone like Phainon? How stupid could anyone possibly be to do that to him? It annoys you. Drives you up a wall.

Before you can stop it, you think it— You would never do that to Phainon.

Just then, something cold hits your head. You turn quickly to see what it is, noticing Phainon leaning over the back of the couch with a bottle of water in hand.

“Lost in thought?”

You nod slowly before grabbing the water, eyes trailing away from the way his tank top loosely dips down, showing off his cleavage.

You're no better than a man you think.

“I didn’t wanna be rude and turn the TV on without permission,” you awkwardly laugh out, he merely hums. He walks over to the TV and grabs the remote from in front of it, tossing it to the spot beside you.

“There, princess.”

The nickname catches you off guard and you feel your stomach coil. You hate him for this, honestly, the way he can so easily wrap you around his finger. You feel like a bunny being played by a wolf.

“I’m making us some pasta.” he gives off his best jazz hands as he walks behind the couch again and stifles a laugh.

You let out a small giggle, using your thumb to press the ‘on’ button on the TV remote.

“Pasta sounds so good right now. I honestly haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“Girl.. It’s like, almost 2 PM. I’ll come over to your house and cook for you if I have to,” he laughs out, leaning against the couch— his hands gripping onto the back as his forearms flex like he’s totally not making your ovaries wanna explode. You skip through a few channels before settling on some reality show.

He makes small talk with you about what dogs you like or if you’re a cat person. He also asks if you like cereal, and if you do, he asks what kind. It’s sweet. The way he tries to get to know you more like he is truly interested in your thoughts. He wants to pick your mind apart, and you enjoy it.

He pats your head as he retreats back into the kitchen. It’s a routine of his, coming back to talk and then going back into the kitchen. It takes about an hour before he calls your name into the kitchen, and you follow suit.

Your eyes light up as he sets out plates, just two, of a really good-looking pasta. You’re honestly shocked a guy like him can cook well, and it must have shown on your face.

“I’m really good with my hands, see? Handyman or not!” he exclaims, the same jazz hands from earlier returning to emphasize just how good the food looks. You giggle as he opens the oven and tosses some cheesy garlic bread on your plate.

“You are so lucky I’m not wearing my ‘kiss the cook’ apron,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You think it’s unlucky that he isn’t wearing it. Thoughts spreading your mind of him only in an apron, cooking the same pasta you see now.

His ass cheeks glistening with sweat.

You cringe.

“I am so ready to eat though!” you exclaim, clasping your hands together.

“You better be.” he says, smugly. He carries both of your plates to the living room so you could eat and watch a shitty movie. Like he said over the phone. After you both sit down, he yells a quick ‘wait!’ louder than you’ve ever heard him speak and runs into a room.

You sit there, shocked, before he comes back, literally dragging a table into the middle of the room. It’s glass, some golden flowers etched into the edges.

“There we go,” he says as he borderline snatches the plate from you and sets it on the table.

“Don’t want it burning your pretty lap.”

Oh, Phainon thinks your lap is pretty…

“Thank you.” you stutter out and he just smiles, now sitting beside you with the shitty rom-com on. The movie isn’t the best, and he points it out at times, saying things like, “What the hell is wrong with that guy?” or “That joke was so horrible, actually.”

You end up laughing more at him than at the movie. Unbeknownst to you, he thinks it’s cute.

After scarfing down the entire plate and seeing the movie's terrible ending, you both look at each other. The room is dark. The soft humming of his clunky air conditioner echoed in the back.

“I should go home now.”

“Do you have work tomorrow?” he asks, completely disregarding what you said.

“No, I’m off for tomorrow and the next day.”

“Cool,” he nods and turns his head away. It’s subtle, the way his neck flares up in pink and his ears are dusted with the same color, “My friend is throwing a backyard barbecue, and I–” he swallows thickly, “Was wondering if you’d like to tag along with me?”

You let it linger. You’re going to say yes anyway, but the thought of making Phainon nervous makes you the happiest you’ve been in a while.

“Of course.”

You can physically see his body relax after you speak, “That’s great, I thought you were gonna say no. Since you don’t like hanging out with guys and all that.”

You dismiss him with a hand wave, “I was exaggerating,” kind of, “It’s fine.” It’s only fine because it’s Phainon.

He sits up with a grin on his face, his hand extends out to yours. You grab hold of his hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I’ll walk you home.”

A quick ‘ok’ leaves your lips as you stand, he takes you out of his front door, and over the tiny sidewalk that leads to your house. It only takes about a minute before you’re standing in front of your door.

“That was quick.” you say out loud, and he laughs, “Yeah.”

You turn to face him, and he gives your hand a squeeze. “So, when is the barbecue?”

“Ehhh, he said tomorrow, but if he bails, I’ll be the first to tell you.”

You giggle, “Does he bail often?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Phainon.”

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up and drive you there.”

Oh. Phainon’s going to drive you to a friend’s house? In his car? You’re going to be in Phainon’s car? As he backs out of his driveway?

“Oh, okay.” you stutter— again.

He grins and then he winks, “See ya later, princess.”

You find yourself back in a similar situation when you first met him, shuffling through your door and leaning against it once it’s closed. Your heart is thumping wildly against your chest, and you can feel it in your ears.

This crush is getting out of hand. It’s only been one month or so, and you can’t handle anything he does at all. From the name-calling to those stupid winks, and to those big… veiny arms…

You shout as you clasp your hands over your face. Romanticizing neighbors is oddly easy. You still taste his food against your lips, and you still feel his fingertips rubbing over your knuckles. It’s embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how you crawl into your bed. How your hand slinks between your legs and the only thing that you can think of is Phainon.

How strong he is. How handsome he is. How his jaw looks like it can cut glass. Your body shudders as you picture him on top of you. Flexing those arms you’ve seen so much. His lips trailing down your neck and against the top of your chest. Your brain is fuzzy, and your hand is tired.

You can’t tell if you’ve finished or not, or maybe you’re already on your third of the night.

Everything becomes so blurry when it’s Phainon. You let out a sharp moan as your back arches into your hand before curling in on itself. You whisper his name against your pillow like a desperate plea.

It takes a while before your lungs are able to comprehend that you’re able to breathe. Your head is all fuzzy. Simply white noise in your head, with the outline of Phainon only coming through.

Your eyes flutter shut.

You hear groaning. Grunts. Moans. It’s loud— muscular arms are wrapped around your neck as your body thrusts and jerks forward. It’s a moan of your name.

You open your eyes to see Phainon’s face, his usual laid-back expression replaced with pleasure.

“Please, please,” he whines, lips shuttering shut before opening with a gasp, “You’re fucking me so good…” he whimpers out.

It’s tight, you hiss. It’s a feeling you’ve certainly never felt before, pulling back to see what exactly is going on. Phainon’s hand is wrapped around his thick cock, jerking it up and down as your hand rests atop of his chest, fingers circling his perky nipples.

Each slap is your waist meeting his as you fuck him, your jaw dropping with each thrust.

“Phainon— you feel so fucking good.” you moan out, and he chokes out a broken moan.

“I’m so close– You’re g’nna make me cum— oh my god,” his whines are broken apart by moans as his muscles tense and his back arches. You watch as each thrust jiggles his thighs and his balls. Your cock drilling into him like it’s second nature.

One of his eyes squints as they roll back, his mouth gaping as he gasps, body twitching and spasming.

“I’m c— cumming!!”

Your eyes flutter open. Stupid dream.

Now the thought of Phainon picking you up seems a lot more awkward than when you thought about it yesterday.

You ignore the stupid heat between your legs, opting for the shower. You feel guilty for dreaming about him every night. Each night was worse than the last. He must be some sort of challenge for women, testing their self-control. You simply can’t handle it.

You let the shower drag out, hoping for it to wash away the sins of the dream and what you did last night.

It doesn’t.

You get dressed for the barbecue, not sure when it is. You opt for a casual look, comfty and breathable. It is summer after all. You do your hair, all the while contemplating what could possibly happen next this summer.

Ding!

It’s a text from Phainon. You pick up your phone to read it.

‘its still onnn!!! he didnt cancel!!!!!! come over 2 mines n ill drive u over there :)))’

‘is this mydei’s house?’ you respond.

‘yea but dont worry hes super nice’

You’re a bit nervous. It feels nerve-racking to meet friends of the guy you wanna bang, but hey, what could go wrong?

Everything apparently.

After you went to Phainon’s house, you stupidly tripped against his door and almost broke your nose. He says it’s just a scratch, but you don’t believe him. So the time you were previously going to spend, gushing over how sexy he is when he drives, was spent with you holding an ice pack to your nose. You did gush, just a little.

Soon enough, when you arrived at Mydei’s house. Your body must have had a plan to embarrass you even more today. Once you meet the male, you notice just how big he is. Red tattoos crawling up his arms and neck. The rest is covered by a black tank top that leaves just about nothing to the imagination.

You might be wondering, what embarrassed you at his house?

You fell. Again. This time with Phainon catching you, his hand right beneath your right boob. He’s flushed, his face coated with pink, and you’re flushed as well— feeling your entire body on fire.

Mydei doesn’t get the memo and, cautiously, guides you to the back deck. That’s where your soul drops. There are so many people that you don’t recognize, whom you’ve never even seen.

Phainon whispers in your ear, “It’s fine.” he rubs circles into your hip, “They won’t bother you.”

After falling twice, you’re free to gush about him now as much as you’d like. Despite the dream earlier this morning about you literally fucking him, feeling him whisper into your ear was doing wonders. He brings you over to a chair before coming back with a cup of juice and a burger for you.

“Here. For your troubles.”

You sigh, grabbing them, “You’re a lifesaver.” you mumble as you stuff your face with the burger. He chuckles, seeing your face light up after taking a bite, making his stomach turn just a bit.

He sits beside you all night. Swatting mosquitoes away and catching fireflies for you. It’s sweet. Adorable even. He talks to some of his friends, but mostly all of his attention is on you. At night, Mydei decides to do the cheesiest thing ever and let everyone use his fire pit.

He hands out the tools to make s’mores and then sits with a woman, whom you’ve heard, is named Castorice.

Phainon insists on making your s’mores for you, so you let him.

“You didn’t have to, you know..”

“Oh, after you face planted into my door, I didn’t have to?”

You cringe, swatting at his arm, “Don’t say that! It was so embarrassing.”

He laughs as he roasts your marshmallow, being sure not to burn it. You take this moment to stare, drinking in his outfit. It’s a simple outfit, casual. White t-shirt with a simple silver necklace. He has jeans on, tight jeans. They’re ripped at his knees, and some rips are at his thighs.

You stare, and he looks back at you. He smiles and follows your gaze, before laughing— “You into thighs?”

“What?” you exclaim, slapping him on the back of the head. “You are so annoying.”

“Owww.” he chuckles out, face wincing in faux pain before softening again. He assembles your s’more and gives it to you.

“Careful, it’s sticky.”

You nod, trying to get the thoughts out of your head of him saying sticky. He leans over his legs, elbows resting on his knees as he watches you. You eat as carefully as possible, but it’s always a bit hard to do that when there’s stickiness and melted chocolate involved.

Unfortunately for him, the white stuff is stuck to the corner of your mouth. It’s driving him crazy. He taps his foot on the grass before reaching over and wiping it off for you.

You both stare.

It’s a hot night, but your body feels like it’s melting.

“Marshmallow.”

You nod.

He swallows. Hard.

He looks away first, sighing as he lets his head fall— if only you knew what you did to him. How excruciating this was for him.

Your lips purse into a thin line as you dart your eyes away.

The night goes on, he makes you both more snacks and steals some soda from Mydei’s fridge before you’re both ready to leave. As he’s driving home, you can’t help but stare. Your eyes hooked in between his legs.

You swear it twitches. Maybe it was a flicker of the light as he’s driving you both home, you can’t tell. The rips on his jeans show off his toned thighs, the same ones you dreamt about this morning.

“You’re staring, y’know?”

He snaps you out of your daze, and you look up through the windshield, noticing the red light. You look back at his face and notice how cocky he looks.

“I-I-I wasn’t—” you stutter, internally cursing yourself.

“You stare a lot,” he hums out, rubbing two fingers on the steering wheel as the other grabs hold of your seat.

“You’re really lucky that I wanna take this slow.”

He sighs as he returns to his driving position, “Wh- What, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing, princess. We’re almost home.”

The drive home is silent, awkward. Your head goes through every scenario of why he could’ve said that to you. You don’t understand, can’t quite place it. But soon enough, you find yourself pulled into his driveway as he puts the car in park.

“We’re hooomee,” he says in a sing-song voice, noticing your face. He just brushes it off, decides not to bring it up again. You swallow before looking in his direction, seeing his eyes flick up to your eyes.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, Phainon.”

“See you later, princess.”

You climb out of his car and make your way quickly into your safe haven called home.

He, however, doesn’t feel safe at all. He peels himself off his seat after turning the key, the engine roaring down to a halt. He walks up the steps and into his room.

His lips are tight in a thin line as he takes off the stupid necklace, the stupid belt— and those stupid tight jeans. His dick is hard, awfully so. He groans as his hands rub against his face. It takes him a second to regain confidence before kicking off his shoes and unbuckling his jeans to climb into bed.

He doesn’t bother closing the curtains, knowing his pervert neighbor loves watching him undress. He groans out loud as he palms himself.

“I hate this. I feel like a dog…”

Oh. Oh, to be a dog. Kneeling at your side, not knowing anything but the words come and no. He stifles another groan as he rubs his clothed cock into his hand. To have a collar with a blue bell that jingles when you pull on the leash.

Phainon shuts his eyes tightly at the thought, nearly causing himself to hyperventilate. He whines– whimpers. You would pat his head, scratch behind his ears. What if you would spread your legs and yank the leash? Ordering him to clean up his master's mess?

“Hahhh, ohh fuck— Mmmn.. Mas–” he takes a big gulp, “Master.. Feels so good when you rub my– when you rub my dick like this…” his hips jerk forward with a loud moan, muscles tensing and his mouth falling open with a gasp.

He comes down from his high with soft pants, eyes looking down at himself. The cum soaked through his boxers, coating his hand and splaying across his abdomen. He cleans himself up with a shower, throwing himself into his bed with a huff.

“Just sleep it off.”

He did in fact, not, sleep it off.

It happens when he falls asleep, and he feels his body swaying easily side to side. He feels a hand in his hair as praises flood into his ears.

“Who’s a good boy?”

It’s your voice.

He manages to open his eyes and sees you sitting on his lap, your lips curled up into a smile as his leash is wrapped around your hand. He knows his mouth is open and his tongue is out but he can’t help but smile. His tail wags behind him with such force that there’s a soft ‘whoosh’ sound coming from it.

“Are you a good boy, puppy?”

He nods vigorously. His hard-on is dangerously noticeable as you scratch behind his ears and place kisses on his face. “Say it. Tell Master who’s a good puppy,” you whisper against his throat, and he shudders.

He ruts his cock into your thighs, nuzzling his face into your hair, “I’m a good puppy. Me– I’m a good puppy–” he nods against you.

“Good boy.”

His eyes open with a jerk. They trail down to his cock, noticing the tent and wet spot before he groans and rolls over with a loud huff, the tip of his cock rubbing into his bed.

“What the fuuuuckkk is wroonggg with mee…” he groans out.

a / n : 🤭🤭🤭🤭

taglist! : @httpshujii @lost-wicked-artist @lov3-ly @aloudice @blushho @aerithsthingss @rxstrife @whatamidoing89 @boycock-boycunt-boyslut @foreverz @emperatris-rinaka @monoclesnapple @panpanstyle @dyingsweetmackerel @stardustbee @diluxama @thebasicbword

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR V

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 3k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: This might’ve been one of my favorite chapters to write so far—I had way too much fun with it  Also, not sure if everyone caught my earlier heads-up, but I’m currently on vacation! This is a scheduled post, and I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to interact while I’m away. I will catch up once I’m back though! You can check out my little announcement here, for more info on when posts are scheduled and how long they’ll keep coming. The taglist will most likely be on pause until I return, but feel free to let me know if you’d still like to be added—I’ll make sure to include you in later chapters once I’m back!

OUTSIDE THE GOLDEN CUP

You were fully ready to go home and forget Jason Todd ever existed—maybe even bitch about him to Milo and Anthony over some wine, when you caught sight of the last two people you wanted to see.

They were strolling your way, all smiles and casual affection, like some goddamn ad for moving on. Jake laughed at something she said, and you watched—horrified, frozen—as he brushed her hair back with the same hand that used to trace your jaw.

Your breath caught.

No. No, no, no.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath. “This is not happening right now.”

They hadn’t seen you yet, but it was only a matter of time. And you couldn’t do it again—you couldn’t be the girl standing alone while your ex showed off his new life like it was a goddamn prize he won by throwing you away.

You refused to give him that satisfaction.

So you did the first thing that came to mind.

You turned around and bolted after Jason.

“Wait—come back here!”

He turned, confusion flickering across his face as you reached out and grabbed his arm. “What the hell—?”

You barely let him finish.

“I need you to kiss me,” you hissed.

Jason stared at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What? No!”

“Just kiss me!”

His brow furrowed in complete disbelief. “Why would I kiss you? Are you—are you insane?”

You glanced over your shoulder—Jake was looking this way now—and panic flared hotter.

“I’m serious!”

He leaned back slightly, like he was trying to decide if you were testing him or genuinely unwell. “Absolutely not. You’re completely bipolar.”

You let out a desperate, frustrated sound and grabbed him by the collar before he could protest further—then yanked him down and slamming your lips against his.

You kissed him.

Hard.

He froze.

But only for a moment.

His grip slid instinctively to your waist, and he kissed you back with a heat that knocked the breath out of you. His mouth was warm, confident, a little possessive. Infuriating as he was, Jason Todd could kiss. 

Your fingers curled tighter in his jacket as the world fell away. For one dizzying second, you forgot Jake existed. Forgot why you were doing this. Forgot everything except the heat of Jason’s mouth on yours and the steady grip of his hands anchoring you in place.

Then—

“Y/N?”

Your name cut through the haze like a slap of cold air.

You pulled back, breath catching in your throat, lips tingling. Jason didn’t move. His mouth was still inches from yours. His gaze flicked to your lips, then up to your eyes, like he was debating whether he should kiss you again—reasons be damned.

Jake’s voice came clearer now, closer. “Y/N.”

You turned toward him, feigning surprise like you’d only just noticed. “Oh!” you gasped—more breathless than you meant to be, though that only worked in your favor. “Jake! Wow, what are the odds of running into you again?”

He smiled, but it was thin, the kind that hovered somewhere between forced and insincere. “Yeah. Funny coincidence. Who’s this?”

You forced a bright smile, even as you felt Jason’s stare drilling into the side of your face, sharp enough to make your skin prickle.

“Jason—my boyfriend,” you said, pitching your voice higher than usual. “You remember, right? The doctor I told you about? We met at that neuroscience conference.”

Jason still hadn’t moved. Still hadn’t stopped glaring. Your nerves were fraying with every second of silence, mentally begging him not to ruin this. Not to humiliate you.

Then, finally, he shifted.

Jason turned toward Jake and Hannah with a grin that was all charm on the surface—and nothing but sharp edges underneath. “Jason Todd,” he said, extending his hand.

Jake hesitated, then reached out. The second their palms met, Jason’s grip tightened just enough to make a point.

Jake winced.

“Jake,” he replied, trying not to sound rattled. “You’ve got a strong grip. So… you’re a neurosurgeon?”

You resisted the urge to groan. Three years of dating, and Jake still hadn’t figured out the difference between a neurosurgeon and a neuroscientist.

“Scientist,” Jason corrected smoothly, not missing a beat. “Same as Y/N. We work together—and I have to say, she’s a brilliant woman.”

Jake’s smile twitched, strained at the edges. “Yeah she is.” he agreed more out of the sake of agreeing rather than actually believing it.

“Oh wow, that’s so amazing,” Hannah gushed, completely sincere. “A couple that’s both gorgeous and smart? Total power duo.”

You didn’t miss the way Jake’s jaw ticked at that. His smile faltered.

Jason, of course, leaned into it with practiced ease.

“Ah, Y/N’s the amazing one,” he said, glancing down at you with a look so convincingly tender your stomach flipped. “I don’t know what I love more—getting to work beside her or waking up every morning knowing she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming beneath your skin.

God. He was good at this.

“He’s such a charmer,” you laughed, sharing a quick smile with Hannah before turning to Jason with a soft shake of your head. “If anything, I’m the lucky one.”

He crinkled his nose. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you giggled—at the exact same time.

Jake blinked, clearly caught off-guard, his expression faltering. His mouth opened like he might say something—then shut again, silent for once.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours again, gentler this time. Your fingers curled around his jacket instinctively as your body leaned into his without thinking. When you finally pulled back, you let out a breathless laugh, resting your head against his chest.

“We’re really happy,” you told Jake and Hannah, your voice light, breezy, too casual for how hard your heart was pounding.

Jason nodded, keeping you close with a hand settled snugly at your waist. “We are. But then again—who wouldn’t be happy with her? She’s got the brains, the beauty… even the brawn. Did you know she was a gymnast in high school?”

Jake stiffened. His frown appeared, vanished, then locked into place. “No. I didn’t.”

Jason’s grin turned wicked. “Didn’t think so.”

You gave a slightly awkward smile, not having expected him to bring that little detail up. “Yeah… he likes to brag,” you said with a giggle, reaching up to lightly slap his cheek in a silent shut up.

Jason just laughed, eyes dancing with mischief. “Ooh, feisty—I love it. My girl’s such a wildcat.”

And then, to your horror, he emphasized the point by bringing his large palm down on your ass in a quick, confident smack.

You let out a startled squeak. “Jason!”

He grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Sorry. I just can’t get enough of you.” Then he turned to the other two with a grin that was anything but apologetic.

Jake looked like he was rethinking every life choice that led him to this moment.

But Hannah?

Hannah sighed like she’d just watched the final scene of a rom-com. “That’s so romantic,” she breathed, practically glowing. Her eyes were glued to Jason, dreamy and starstruck, like she’d just mentally cast him as the lead in every fantasy she’d ever had.

You blinked.

Jason smirked.

And Jake looked one second away from combusting.

He shifted awkwardly, clearly itching to escape. “Well. It was nice seeing you, Y/N. And… meeting you, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “You too, Josh. We gotta run.”

Jake blinked. “It’s… Jake.”

“Oh.” Jason tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Right. Jake. Sorry, man. So many J names floating around in my life lately.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hard, doing everything you could not to burst out laughing.

“It was really nice meeting you,” Hannah said sweetly, clearly trying to smooth things over.

Jason turned to her like she was the only person in the world. “The pleasure was all mine,” he said, catching her hand with gallant ease.

Then—of course—he bowed slightly and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand like he was stepping straight out of a period drama.

Hannah flushed instantly, caught somewhere between flattered and utterly frazzled.

Jake’s frown sharpened, but he forced a brittle smile. “Oh look at that. A kiss on the hand. Classy.”

“You are so lucky,” Hannah whispered to you with starry eyes. And she meant it. The poor girl was enchanted.

You gave a polite, noncommittal smile. “I know.”

Jake clearly had enough. He tugged Hannah’s hand a little too firmly. “Enjoy your night.”

“Oh, we will,” Jason replied, already wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snug against him like he’d been waiting all night for an excuse. As the couple turned to walk away, Jason called out, sweet as syrup, “See ya, Justin!”

“It’s Jake!” came the snapped reply from halfway down the block.

Jason grinned, satisfied. Like a cat full of cream and mischief. His eyes still sparkled as he watched them disappear around the corner.

Then Jason turned to you, expression flat, voice bone-dry. “So. Want to tell me what the hell that was?”

You let out a slow breath, brushing your hair out of your face as the adrenaline finally started to fade. “An emergency.”

He arched a brow. “That’s not how normal people handle emergencies.”

You snorted, the tension finally beginning to unravel from your spine. “I’m not normal. You of all people should know that.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s one word for it.”

Your mouth twitched, and you looked up at him, expression softening. “Thanks, by the way. Really.”

A sly smile curved across his lips as he cupped a hand behind his ear. “Sorry—what was that? This ear’s a little deaf.”

You huffed, but it came with a reluctant smile. “I said thank you. Thank you. You don’t have to be annoying about it.”

He grinned, but this time there was something softer behind it. Something genuine. “You want to try this again? Start over. We could grab a bite—your pick.”

You hesitated, teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

Then he added, “You do owe me an explanation for… whatever that was.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. He wasn’t wrong. You had, technically, assaulted him with a surprise kiss and roped him into a soap opera without warning. The fact that he went along with it—without throwing you to the wolves—definitely earned him a second chance. And probably dessert.

“Come on—I know a café just down the street. Cozy, quiet, not too many people. Coffee that’s actually good,” you added, shooting him a teasing look over your shoulder, “and the pastries are amazing.”

CAFÉ NERO

“…and I packed up everything,” you said, fingers tracing the rim of your iced coffee. “Turned down a position at STAR Labs. All to move back here with him.”

You took a sip, using the taste of the cold overly sweet liquid to ground you for a second.

“Few months later, I found him in our bed with his yoga instructor.”

Jason winced. “Damn.”

You gave him a rueful grin. “You can say it. I’m an idiot. Three PhDs, I literally study the brain—and I still didn’t see how much of a tool he was.”

Jason shook his head. “You’re not an idiot. You were in love. Love’s great at messing with the parts of the brain that normally warn us about red flags. Doesn’t make you dumb. Just makes you human.”

Your gaze softened at his surprisingly insightful words. “He just wasn’t the guy I thought he was. It feels like… a mistake.”

Jason leaned back, his tone more certain. “I don’t believe in mistakes.”

You gave him a look, amused. “That’s a very convenient philosophy for someone like you.”

He smirked. “Maybe. But it’s the mistakes that shape us. Break us down, sure. But they also build us. They brought you back here, didn’t they?”

You blinked, considering. “Would you rather be back in Central City?” he asked.

“Surprisingly… no.” You glanced out the café window, watching the Gotham streets pulse with life. “For all its chaos, Gotham was—is my home. I love my place and my best friends live across the hall.”

“And you like your job,” Jason added.

“I love my job,” you agree, thinking about all the brilliant sleep deprived lunatics you taught and worked with.

He shrugged. “So there you go.” Then, watching you mull it over, his smirk softened. “Just saying.”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “That’s dangerously close to sounding wise.”

“I have my moments,” he smirked, then quoted, almost under his breath,“‘We all have a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.’”

You blinked. “Wait—what was that?”

Jason took a slow sip of his drink, expression suspiciously innocent.

“No way!” You gasped “That’s Pride and Prejudice.” You pointed a finger at him, eyes lit with amusement. “That’s a direct quote.”

He didn’t deny it. Just smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes!” you laughed, practically bouncing in your seat. “That’s Elizabeth. Talking about trusting your own judgment. I wrote a whole damn paper on it in high school!” You leaned forward, studying him like he was a puzzle you’d only just realized you wanted to solve. “How do you know that quote?”

“Maybe I just appreciate the classics,” he said, trying for nonchalance—but the faint flush rising in his cheeks betrayed him.

You squinted at him. “How many times have you read it?”

He shrugged. “I’ve lost track.”

His flush deepened, blooming up his cheeks now, and you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You so are.”

“It’s good,” he defended, a little sheepishly. “Austen didn’t just write about romance. She wrote about perception. Power. How we lie to ourselves and convince ourselves we’re right—until someone challenges us.”

You tilted your head, watching him with new eyes—seeing a side of him that didn’t quite fit the arrogant bad boy persona you’d so easily pinned him with. Maybe he was right. Maybe you had been too quick to assume. He hadn’t exactly made the best first impression, sure—but you hadn’t given him much of a chance to prove otherwise, either. The truth was, you’d both misjudged each other. Different shades of the same mistake.

“It’s not just Darcy and Elizabeth dancing around their feelings,” he went on. “It’s how pride isolates you. How prejudice can ruin things before they even begin. It’s about waking up to your own flaws and doing something about them.”

“Wow,” you murmured, genuinely impressed. A smile tugged at your lips. “Okay. That was… borderline profound.”

He chuckled, looking a little self-conscious. “I read it when I was younger. Thought I was a Darcy type.” He paused, then added dryly, “Turns out I was more of a Lydia.”

You choked on your drink. “Lydia?!”

“Metaphorically,” he said, raising his hands. “Reckless. Stubborn. Thought I knew everything and didn’t need anyone.” He shrugged, eyes twinkling. “But don’t worry, I’ll still be the Darcy to your Elizabeth.”

“That is so cheesy.” You giggled. “I still can’t wrap my head around the face that you’re a closet Austen fan.”

“Don’t go telling people,” he said with a crooked grin. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Too late,” you teased. “I’m never letting this go.” A smile lingered on your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. “And here I thought you were all leather jackets and terrible flirting.”

Jason leaned in, forearms braced on the table, eyes glinting. “Maybe I just needed the right Elizabeth Bennet to call me out.”

You raised your cup, matching the spark in his gaze. “You’ve got a long way to go, Mr. Darcy.”

His smirk deepened. “Challenge accepted.”

Now that you weren’t arguing or making assumptions about each other, the date had gone… surprisingly well.

More than well, actually.

You found yourself genuinely enjoying Jason’s company—his sharp wit, his unexpected depth, and the fact that, beneath the leather and bravado, he was a total literary nerd. Not only could he keep up when you started debating themes and structure, he actually challenged you. Matched your pace with insight and humor.

It reminded you—just a little—of how Dick had been able to keep up when you started rambling about science. The way he hadn’t just nodded along, but asked questions. Listened.

You tried not to think about that. Tried not to dwell on the small, unwelcome flutter of disappointment still lingering in your chest over the fact that he hadn’t texted you back. Maybe he got busy. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. You brushed it off and pulled your focus back to Jason, who, to his credit, hadn’t given you a single reason to walk away again.

What were the odds, anyway? Two gorgeous, intelligent men—both with sharp minds and devastating smiles—taking you out in the span of a few days. 

You hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until you glanced outside. The streetlights had flickered on. Gotham was slipping into night—where the real chaos lived. The two of you had been talking for far longer than an hour, and while your brain wanted to stay planted in that booth, you’d learned your lesson.

You stood reluctantly, gathering your things as the last traces of sunlight slipped out of Gotham’s skyline. Juan glanced up from where he was wiping down the counter and sent you a knowing grin.

“Can I expect no more order for one?”

You glanced toward the door, where Jason was already there, holding it open with one hand, waiting. Then back to Juan, smirking. “We’ll see.”

Juan chuckled softly. “He’s good man, Doctora.”

You smiled, warmth creeping into your chest. “Yeah,” you said, eyes drifting back to the door. “I think he really is.”

Outside, the air was cooler now but neither of you seemed to mind, wanting to drag out the moment for just a few more minutes.

Jason paused beside you on the sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets. “So,” he asked, voice casual but eyes watching you closely, “what’s the verdict?”

You tilted your head, lips curling into a smile. “The verdict is… I actually had a lot of fun. And I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

Something that looked suspiciously like relief flickered across his face before settling into a crooked, satisfied grin. “And here I thought I might have to crash another one of your lectures.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You were insane for doing that.”

He shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “Worked, didn’t it? Got me a date with you.”

You grinned, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.

The two of you exchanged numbers and say your goodbyes. Jason offered one last wink before turning and disappearing into the crowd like he belonged to the night.

You made it home in one piece—miraculously not mugged or emotionally spiraling—kicked off your shoes, and flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. Then you checked your phone.

One unread message.

Your eyes widened as you saw the name on the screen.

Dick Grayson

Hey, sorry I haven’t texted sooner. Got caught up with an emergency. Let me know when you’re free for that second date.

Your stomach dropped.

Oh. Shit. You were so screwed.

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[acid-ixx]

i’m kinda curious on whether or not the reader would continue going to college after they go back to the wayne manor. furthermore, i also remember the resder mentioning a small group of friend they had, will they stay in contact with them? how do the family react to them being so close with others? dudhjew i love this series you write so well.

— masterlist !

a/n: phew i finally get to answer asks !! yesterday was insane, me and my family swam on around 5 different beaches so i was outside for more than 12 hours with no wifi and the power keeps turning off in the house due to the weather so that's that. i love writing so this is a bit longer than i expected hehe. oh yeah i forgot to tell yall that in the timeline, the mc may be bruce's third child but they're actually younger than tim as he was adopted later on.

now, to answer. i don't think bruce, as your ever-so loving father, would agree to get you back to college once you're back (kidnapped) in the manor. he wouldn't directly say it, but with your current state of relationship towards your family, with just how much time they have lost not spending it with you, it's a given that bruce, your dad, and your siblings who are feral for any ounce of attention from you, would insist that you take... a very long vacation with just them.

after all, desire is one of the stronger emotions they feel towards you, and they grapple at anything you offer towards them. but they still want you to be happy, no?

so at first, they'll let you go to your classes (though you'd be heavily monitored everywhere. who knows what bad influences scurry the area, right? barbara and tim take turns watching through the live feed of your college) but that's only if, and only if the uni's timetable allows for a flexible schedule with your family after. that means, if you're stubborn enough (which bruce understands, because "bruce! you allow damian to go to school so why can't i?!" and he's willing to give his baby the world after he finally hears them say his name) and still wish to continue the course you're working so hard for, one you had attained a full scholarship for, then go ahead!

though they can't help it when the hours they're supposed to get to know you better are taken away from them. for now, you'll have a taste of freedom before it's ultimately taken away from you.

but until then, you'll have to learn how to balance school life with family life. because even if there would be no more crappy apartment to go home to, even if you actually get a full meal instead of cheap, microwavable oven meals and dollar priced ramen, even if you still get to pursue your dream course— it's undeniable that the moment you leave your uni's doors, you'd be picked up by dick, tim, and even your youngest brother damian fucking wayne driving the car, to be escorted back to the manor strictly after classes. during the night, should you ever overstay for projects, it would be jason who'll greet you and allow you to ride his motorcycle; though that's only permissible if you have updated them a day before that you wouldn't be home before the curfew bruce has set up for you.

sometimes, it's your father who makes an untimely appearance with his well-known persona, brucie wayne. he'll greet all the people who pass by with a teethy smile, his big hand holding your stiff shoulders after he kisses your cheeks as a greeting. if you're out the door with your friends - friends who knew of your history of neglect, who told you they would always take your side - then he'll shake their hand, introduce himself with a charm that makes them question if what you've told them is true.

he presents himself with such an aura that's harmless, as if him and your other siblings who are spying by a bush aren't incapable of taking all friends down with just a punch to their face shall one of them speak up or dare tease you in front of them.

unfortunately for you, even some of your friends would be truly convinced that your father wasn't the same man you've told your lifelong stories about neglect. not when he makes a show of running his hand through his baby's head to comfort them whilst he talks to them, not when he cloaks your shoulders in his own work suit to make sure his child wouldn't feel the chilly weather, not when he takes all the time in his busy day to pick you up from school as he should've done all those years ago.

but who would believe you when it's obviously known by the public eye that bruce loves his child, (name) wayne?

you know it's all fake, and it's scary for you, that he simply was able to make a cover up story to the journalists that his child's lack of presence to the public is him merely wishing to shield them from the disgusting media, no?

now that you're older, he says, he would want to make a show of his undying grip over you, that his gleeming eyes that hold multiple threats towards the people in your campus is simply his overprotectiveness as your father, that if they ever harm you or dare question your family's overprotective nature towards you; they'd be gone by the very hands that sworn to protect gotham.

it's all fake, you tell yourself.

but what isn't false are his intentions to make you feel like you're part of the family now, no matter how much you kick, or fight, or scream; they'll always remind you that you're loved and always will be. it's both an apology and display of affection towards you.

it doesn't matter if your uni is on the other side of gotham, you're always coming home to them and that's final. at least you know they still have an ounce of empathy for you to continue having friends (and a boyfriend that they've no knowledge of, yet), as long as they heavily monitor you...

... what you don't know, though, is that the moment you've fallen into the hands of danger— your father wouldn't hesitate pulling you out of college and instead settling for homeschooling. you have brilliant siblings, after all, and a father who had trained all over the world.

that's why hangouts with friends are unpermitted, you soon discover that only trying to beg bruce to at least be more flexible with your friends would only lead to even lesser chance of trying to find escape in your already stuffy life.

and don't even dare throw a tantrum about preferring your friends over them. if you even go as far as calling one of your friend's parents as an even better parent than bruce could be, that your friends are people you consider actual siblings, then you've guaranteed yourself a one way ticket to being locked up in the manor, permanently; with your father and your siblings, especially damian, trying to prove themselves that, no, you didn't just fucking say that, take it back.

you're going to witness a personal breakdown from damian. because no way do you prefer those scum over him! he's supposed to be your favorite, who are they to take his place?! you love him, you love them, you wanted attention from the family, didn't you?! you wouldn't be able to comfort him because he'd already wear his robin suit, ready to eliminate any of your friends who are younger than you because they don't deserve to be seen as your younger sibling, no matter if you had just blurted that out as retaliation for an argument.

what you had just said is serious, and bruce and dick wouldn't even try to stop that kid from slashing someone in broad daylight; dick choosing to cry and refusing to let you go from his arms as he babbles on about his delusional baby bird, trying his damn best to not let his temper get to him, trying so hard to not choke the ever living shit out of any of your older friends once you confess calling anyone of them your older brother— because him, jason, and tim are supposed to be the only ones you consider your older brothers, babybird!

hell, even tim and babs are already on the monitors ready to give damian each and every one of your friend's individual locations.

bruce especially, would be heartbroken that his child called someone else their father. that's his title. you calling him father, or dad, or papa, or any language that describes him to be your parental figure is the only thing keeping him sane. he hates it when his child only calls him bruce as if to describe a mere stranger, to which he knows he is to you— but it sounds wrong and it furthers the ache in his heart— and it's even worse if you chose to call someone else a father, chose anyone else than him as your dad.

batman is even more cruel in his patrol after your argument, punching the living hell out of any male criminals, picturing your voice playing over and over again calling them your father instead of him— it only makes him perceptive of jason's moral code. because what if you have fallen into the hands of anyone but him before he had come to take you back? he knows he isn't the best, was never there for you until now, but fuck, he needs to make it up to his child, and getting angry at you only worsens your already severed bond with him.

so you may expect a punishment, but it's already punishment towards you when you're now isolated inside the manor with only the presence of your siblings to comfort you throughout the nights where it gets too lonely during patrol time. bruce would have more than an hour long talk with you in his study, forcing you to confess every single thought you have about him and your siblings. he tells you it's all unrecorded, that there's no cameras to watch over your one-on-one confrontation— he just wants his baby's opinion on everything so they could adjust to your every whim, but really, it's all just a matter of them wanting to dive deep into your very thoughts like the invasive creatures they are.

the worst part of it all, is that nobody even dare mentions the names of your friends and their respective family. they listen to anything you say, because you already barely talk, but the moment you mutter about missing them, the topic would be shunned down by something, anything else. whether that'd be damian deciding that his older sibling should paint with him, or dick inviting you to watch him perform his acrobatic stunts.

it's a distraction you know you're susceptible to, because they all wish to take your thoughts away from those scum, as damian calls them, and instead have you focus on them, your actual family. those people are nothing to you, now that they're out of the picture.

... you should've chosen to be homeschooled instead of unintentionally getting your friends killed.

[asthroophile]

tteokbeokki: love — SAJA BOYS

WC: 2.8k+

PART: I. SEASONS, III. LILY, IV. BONFIRE

You were lounging in your room, seated at your desk, typing away on your laptop. The first day as a manager had left you utterly drained especially when the boyband you were assigned to manage felt more like a pack of wild animals than professional idols.

“How to be a good manager…” you murmured as you clicked on a YouTube video.

“You don’t need a tutorial to be a good manager,” came a sudden voice from behind you, Baby’s voice.

You didn’t even flinch. “Still, i want to do better for all of you.”

“You already are the best for us,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I picked you, didn’t I? And my choices are always the best ones.”

You sighed. “That’s what you think, what about the others? I’m not even sure I’m cut out for this job. You guys don’t even have your own agency building. You’re literally using my apartment as your base, how am I supposed to feel secure in a job that can’t even guarantee my salary?” You glanced at Baby flatly and scoffed, “This has to be the dumbest decision I’ve ever made, i should’ve stayed at my old job.”

Turning back to your screen, you resumed typing, listing out schedules, basic rules for the members, and anything else to keep them at least somewhat organized. Baby stayed quiet, watching you work before eventually moving over to sit on your bed.

“…Sorry,” he muttered.

“For what?” you asked.

“For being a burden,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean for you to struggle this much because of us. But… we have to do something. For someone, if we don’t, our souls will be eaten.”

You stopped typing, staring at him in confusion.

"What are you even talking about?”

Baby fiddled with his fingers, clearly unsure how to explain it, “If I were allowed to tell you everything—” he stopped mid-sentence, abruptly pressing his hands to his ears.

“Baby? Hey, are you okay?” You rushed to his side, concerned. “Is something wrong with your ears?”

“Did you forget me already?” he asked suddenly, looking at you with a strange intensity.

You blinked, “What? No, I… I didn’t forget you. We just met, didn’t we?”

“I chose you because we have met before.” He slowly lowered his hands. “These voices… they keep haunting me. I can’t escape them, but when I’m with you, they go quiet. You silence them because you’re the one I need.”

You let out a nervous laugh, "Did you just read something romantic online or something? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“It is me,” he replied, calmly.

“Come on, that kind of talk doesn’t suit a guy with a baby face and a deep voice.”

“That’s just part of my charm."

You chuckled, a small smile tugging at your lips. For a second, it felt like he was back to being the Baby you knew.

“Can you do me a favor?” he asked.

“Of course… as long as it’s nothing weird,” he grinned, clearly expecting the opposite. You were already starting to regret. Without warning, he leaned his head on your shoulder. If he hadn’t asked first, you probably would’ve shoved him away by now.

“…Is this considered weird?”

“Kinda,” you mumbled, your hand absentmindedly stroking his hair. What even is this moment? You weren’t the type to let people get physically close especially not someone like Baby.

You thought maybe, this moment of peace would last long enough to keep you from going fully insane managing a broke boyband. But you were wrong.

The door to your room slammed open, Jinu and his gang burst in like action movie villains only to freeze, staring at the sight of you and Baby in a position that definitely looked too intimate.

“What are you two doing?”

Jinu’s voice cracked mid-sentence, a perfect mix of shock and scandalized disbelief. Behind him, Mystery blinked slowly as if trying to process the scene, while Abby gasped dramatically like he was watching a K-drama unfold in real time.

You immediately tried to stand but Baby was still leaning on you, totally unbothered.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” you blurted.

“Really?” Jinu crossed his arms. “Because it looks like our manager is cuddling our rapper during working hours in their private apartment base that we’re definitely not supposed to treat like a dorm.”

Baby yawned lazily, "Why are you acting like I don’t cuddle with you all the time?”

“That’s different!” Jinu snapped. “You’re annoying when you do it to me. This looks like... like, romantic tension!”

Abby squealed.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” you muttered, finally shoving Baby off of you. He made a small “oomph” as he fell sideways onto the bed, entirely unfazed.

Mystery tilted his head, “Wait… were we interrupting something important?”

“YES,” Baby and Jinu said at the same time, but with completely opposite tones.

You ran your hands down your face. “God, no. He was just… being Baby.”

“Which is suspicious by default,” Jinu added under his breath.

You ignored him and stood, brushing off invisible lint from your shirt. “Why are you all here anyway? Don’t tell me you broke the stove again—”

“We were wondering when the next rehearsal was,” Abby chirped. “But I guess some people were busy.”

“I wasn’t busy,” you hissed. “I was managing.”

“Managing what? Your love life?” Jinu teased.

Baby sat up and smirked. “So you do think it looks like a love life.”

“Can everyone shut up,” you snapped.

Jinu broke into a grin, “So does this mean Baby’s your favorite now?”

“He’s not even in the top five,” you shot back.

“There’s five of us,” Mystery whispered.

“Exactly.”

Baby looked wounded, “Betrayal..."

“Oh my God, get out of my room!”

Laughing and dramatically fake-crying, the boys stumbled back out, leaving you to slam the door behind them.

You stared at it for a long second, heart pounding. It wasn’t like you meant to let Baby get close. It just… happened. And worse, you didn’t hate it.

You let out a long, dramatic sigh, thinking finally you’d get your peace back, you were wrong, again. The door burst open for the second time.

“Can you guys knock for once in your life—” You started, already gearing up for a well-deserved rant, but Jinu was faster. He rushed in and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Wait, wait, I forgot to tell you something important!”

You shoved his hand off your face, “What now?”

“So, remember when we told our fans to join us for a little fan event? Y’know… to play games together?”

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Well… it’s today.”

You blinked slowly. “Today as in—now?”

Jinu gave you a sheepish nod. “Yeah, right now, so we kinda need to go.”

You groaned and waved him off. “Then go? Hurry up and get ready.”

He didn’t move, instead, he pointed directly at you.

“You have to come too.”

Your arms crossed your chest instantly, full defense mode. “WHAT? No, absolutely not. I am not going, no one can know I’m your manager!”

Jinu only smiled, “There’s going to be HUNTR/X there."

You took a deep breath, as if weighing a life-or-death decision. Then you clapped your hands together once, “Alright! Everyone get ready quickly! We’re moving in five!”

Jinu grinned wide, already halfway out the door. “Knew that would work!”

You shook your head as you turned to your reflection in the mirror, already dreading but also kinda panicking in excitement about what came next. Time to crash a fan event.

Your poor little boyband was already seated on the modest stage set up for them. Despite their earlier efforts to shove you backstage, you had stood your ground and firmly refused. No way you were hiding behind curtains, you’d rather sit with the crowd, thank you very much.

The event kicked off with a ridiculous game: who can chug the most hot sauce? And you already knew who’d win. Of course, no one outlasts Baby in a battle of pain and food.

You were actually enjoying the event. The energy, the laughter, the weird games, everything felt strangely... endearing. For a moment, you almost forgot how broke your band was. Almost.

But something kept tugging at your mind. You leaned forward slightly, Jinu promised HUNTR/X would be here.

Where were they? Was that little gremlin lying to get you to come?

Then, as if on cue, Jinu’s voice echoed through the speakers with way too much excitement

“Then why say goodbye when we have extra of models coming up? Please welcome Huntrix!”

Your heart skipped, your eyes widened as the lights dimmed and suddenly a dramatic spotlight cut across the stage, revealing three figures.

HUNTRIX.

The crowd lost it. Screams filled the venue. Phones were already out. People were crying, shaking. You, meanwhile, were frozen in your seat.

“Bring out the slides!” Jinu barked.

...What?

Fans started chanting. And then, yes somehow, somehow, a colorful, oversized plastic slide was dragged out.

THE SLIDE. And HUNTR/X actually used it.

Dressed in leather. Sliding down. Screeching all the way. The sound of leather squeaking violently against plastic echoed across the venue like a war cry of fashion versus physics.

Jinu bowed deeply, “It was truly an honor to share the stage with you.”

“No, no, no,” HUNTRIX replied smoothly, bowing just as low. “The honor is ours.”

Saja boys bowed again. “No, ours.”

HUNTR/X followed, "Ours.”

You watched in disbelief as the two groups continued bowing at each other, again and again, until the stage was finally covered with a soft curtain signaling the end of the event.

You stared at the now-closed stage, your brain fried. What kind of fever dream of an event was this? But your confusion didn’t last long.

Because the moment you stood up, your instincts screamed something was off. You turned your head only to see your band members bolting off the stage.

Being chased by huntrix.

“OH MY GOD,” you groaned, leaping to your feet. “What kind of trouble have they gotten into now?!”

Without thinking, you dashed out of the crowd, weaving through people, ignoring fans asking if you were someone important.

You spotted them running like children who’d broken a window, heading straight toward—

“Is that... a hot spring?!”

You narrowed your eyes in horror, yes, it was.

You picked up your pace. “I swear if they start an all-out hot spring brawl with huntrix, I’m quitting this job and faking my own death—!"

You weren’t sure what you’d find when you caught up.

But one thing was clear: your chaotic boyband was about to drag you into yet another disaster.

You were gasping for air as you finally reached the entrance to the hot spring, sweat dripping down your temples. Without thinking, you shoved open the door—

WHAM!

Something—a shoe? a flaming towel??—nearly flew into your face. You screamed, barely dodging it, and your jaw dropped at the chaos that unfolded before your eyes.

Idols, real, famous idols were fighting actual demons. You blinked and then you rubbed your eyes.

Nope, still there. Zoe was literally stabbing a horned creature while Mira spun mid-air and sliced through a screeching demon like she was in a drama finale with insane VFX.

Until you saw him. Jinu arguing with Rumi, in the middle of an actual demon brawl.

“JINU!” you shouted, your voice cracking from disbelief and impending wrath. You started sprinting toward him, he was so grounded for this, but you didn’t make it more than two steps before something with claws lunged at you.

But then the thing dropped. Dead.

Mira stood in front of you, sword dripping, face pale and wide-eyed, “What are you doing here? It’s not safe! Get out!”

Your voice shook. “I—I’m looking for my boyband!”

Mira looked at you like you were the delusional one here, “Boyband—?”

“Mira, behind you!” Zoe shouted from across the steam-filled chaos.

Mira spun and slashed without hesitation, gutting another demon before it reached her.

“No time for that!” she barked, already running toward another threat. “Get out of here!”

You were still trying to process whether you were hallucinating when a very real demon tail smacked into a wall right next to your head.

Yeah, no, time to run.

You stumbled out of the hot spring, heart hammering, lungs on fire, hair sticking to your forehead, and screamed into the night air:

“THEY’RE SO DAMN TROUBLESOME I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO TALK TO MY IDOLS IN PEACE!”

You looked around frantically, realizing your five boyband idiots had vanished yet again.

You didn’t know if they were fighting, hiding, or accidentally having tea with some elder demon out back. But you were going to find them and yell at them loudly, possibly with a frying pan.

You wandered the streets like a lost soul, still seething as you searched for your wayward boyband. Every step was accompanied by a muttered complaint under your breath—until a familiar silhouette caught your eye.

Jinu? Thank god, one of them, at least.

You rushed toward him, only for him to flinch, like he was about to bolt. But you got to him first, grabbing his wrist before he could escape.

“Jinu! What are you doing out here alone? Where are the others?” you demanded, keeping a firm grip on his wrist.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared at your hand, the one clutching his wrist. You quickly realized what you were doing and let go.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“They’re safe, somewhere,” he said calmly.

“Somewhere? What does that even mean? You guys are always glued together, and now you're just… here? Alone? Tell me where they are—I may not be getting paid for this, but I’m still responsible for you guys.”

Your words came out sharper than intended, frustration boiling over. Jinu, however, simply laughed at your reaction.

“You really do care about us, huh?”

“Well—duh? I’m your manager, even without a contract. You’re the one who said I was, remember? Contract or not, I’m still stuck with you guys.”

He just looked at you. No, watched you, something in his gaze made your stomach twist.

“Can you not look at me like that?” you asked, voice faltering.

“…Can you touch me again?”

"What?”

“Touch me.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘TOUCH YOU’?!”

“Just… touch me?” he repeated, almost like a plea.

“ARE YOU INSANE?! DID THAT WHOLE BOTTLE OF SPICY SAUCE FRY YOUR BRAIN?!”

But Jinu didn’t flinch at your outburst. Instead, he calmly reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

“I didn’t think it would actually work,” he murmured. “Baby really found the right person.”

Your heart skipped.

“What… what do you mean I’m the right person?” you whispered, trying to pull away but his grip only tightened.

Jinu didn’t answer, but something told you everything was about to get much, much weirder.

Jinu let go of your hand and took a step back, putting distance between you, “I have to go.”

“To where? Wait, answer me—where are the others?”

“We’ll come back to your apartment,” he said, too casually for your liking.

“No. No, you’re clearly hiding something from me.” You stepped forward, refusing to let him escape that easily. “Why has everything gone wrong since I met you guys? It’s like I’ve been cursed! I— I even saw demons! I don’t know if I was hallucinating or what, but—”

“You saw demons?” His voice shifted, sharper now, more alert.

“YES? And Huntrix killed them. I saw it all when they were chasing you! What’s going on? Do you guys have something to do with Huntrix?”

Jinu didn’t reply.

Instead, his eyes flickered anywhere but yours, over your shoulder, down to his shoes, to the sky, anywhere that wasn’t your gaze.

Your frustration peaked, “Say something! Don’t stand there like this is normal!”

“I’m sorry…” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper, “Maybe in another life, I’d be able to explain everything to you.”

He stepped closer and you instinctively took a step back.

“Another life? Why not now…?” you asked quietly.

“Because we can’t risk losing you.” His eyes finally met yours. “You’re the heart of our existence.”

The words made no sense, you opened your mouth to ask more but before you could, Jinu reached out and flicked your forehead, gently, almost like a joke.

A blinding warmth pulsed through your skull, darkness bloomed at the edges of your vision, and then—nothing. You were asleep before you could even fall.

Darkness.

That was all you could sense—an infinite, suffocating blackness swallowing every corner of your surroundings. You felt as if you were floating, untethered, as though gravity itself had abandoned you. Then, out of the silence, a voice emerged—deep and heavy, pressing itself against your ear like a whisper laced with iron.

“So you’re the one who made my followers forget their original purpose,” it said, low and venomous. “How troublesome.”

You tried to move, to pull away from the voice, but it only crept closer, curling around you like smoke. No matter how far you shifted, it stayed near—breathing down your neck.

“Listen carefully,” the voice growled, “if you keep interfering with my plan to consume every human soul, then I’ll start with you. You’ll be the first I devour. And then… them.”

Your heart dropped.

“You mean those five idiots? What do you even want with them?” you snapped, unable to see who—or what—was speaking, but your frustration outweighed your fear.

The voice hissed. “This is exactly why I detest people like you. So attached. So pitiful. Drenched in shame you can’t shake off, even after five timelines.”

You clenched your fists. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard weirder speeches from Jinu and Baby, and guess what? You sound just as crazy as the rest of them. So congratulations, you’re officially the sixth idiot in my life.”

There was a beat of silence. Then the voice laughed.

Not loud, just… slow. The kind of laughter that made your skin crawl.

“Gwi-ma,” it said at last. “Remember that name, my daughter.”

The darkness around you shifted—like a television screen cutting to black—and suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Invisible hands clawed at your throat, choking you, forcing the air from your lungs. You thrashed, helpless, until— you woke up, gasping, drenched in sweat. Your sheets tangled around your limbs, your chest rising and falling too fast to be normal. You were in your room.

It was just a dream, just a nightmare.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said softly.

You turned your head and found Mystery standing beside your bed, holding out a glass of water.

"You were tossing like crazy," he added, stepping closer. "Thought you were gonna burn up from that fever."

Fever?

You stared at him, still breathing heavily, your throat ached, your hands trembled. Mystery knelt beside the bed, offering the glass. You didn't take it right away.

"Did I say anything while I was asleep?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head. "No... why?"

You glanced at your hand, no bruises, no marks around your neck. But the lingering weight of something unseen still pressed against your chest.

"No reason," you said finally, taking the water with shaking fingers. "Just... bad dreams."

“By the way, where are the others?” you asked, just to break the silence lingering between you and Mystery.

“In the living room, waiting for you to wake up. Why? Should I call them in?”

You barely opened your mouth to answer, but Mystery had already risen and headed toward the door.

“I didn’t even say yes…” you muttered with a sigh, dropping back against your pillows.

“Boss!!” Abby burst into the room dramatically, practically sliding across the floor before slumping against your side, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders. “I thought you were dead! I already started imagining the worst.”

“Say that again and I swear I’ll dump this water on you,” you threatened, raising the glass Mystery had given you.

Abby backed off instantly.

“You okay?” Romance asked, stepping in with a more reserved tone.

“Do I look okay to you?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Snappy. That means she’s getting better,” Baby added with a small smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped again.

Baby ignored your tone and walked up to you, scanning your face intently before gently placing his palm against your forehead.

“Still warm,” he murmured, frowning. “I didn’t think the aftermath would hit her this hard.”

You blinked. “What aftermath?”

“Of course it would,” Abby chimed in, flopping onto the arm of a nearby chair. “She’s human, remember? And he was watching us the whole time, saw everything. Even that one conversation between you two and Jinu.”

You sat up straighter. “Hold on—what are you talking about? And where the hell is Jinu? I need to talk to that little jerk. He just flicked me and left me unconscious?!”

You tried to push the blanket away and get up, but Mystery was already there, pressing a hand gently to your shoulder.

“You’re not getting out of bed until you’re fully recovered,” Romance added, arms crossed like he meant it.

You blinked at him.

“…It’s weird coming from you,” you muttered.

“Come on, I do care about you,” Romance said, half-joking, though something in his eyes looked serious. You narrowed your gaze at him, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, then let out a heavy sigh. “So… what exactly did you guys do that made Huntrix chase you all the way to a hot spring full of demons? I’m being serious here. That wasn’t a dream. I saw them kill that demon. And you guys—” you turned your head toward each of them like a judge staring down her jury, “—what the hell were you doing?!”

The room fell into a tense silence. Baby looked down, Abby fiddled with the hem of his shirt, and Mystery stood still like a statue. Even Romance said nothing.

“Guys?” you snapped.

Romance finally broke the silence, “It’s… not entirely our fault.”

“Oh yeah?” you folded your arms. “Then whose fault is it? Mine?”

“Him.” Abby pointed upward—or maybe just toward the ceiling.

“Him? What do you mean him? Gwi-ma?” you asked sharply.

“You know?” Baby looked startled.

“He said it himself,” you replied quickly. “In the dream. I swear, I’m not making this up. He talked to me, said he was Gwi-ma, that he’d eat me first before the rest of you, because he hated me…?” You trailed off, your voice trembling. “Then he said I was his daughter.”

Romance immediately stood up from the couch. “We need to call Jinu.”

You blinked in disbelief, “What? Why? What does Jinu have to do with this?”

“Because he’s the one Gwi-ma entrusted with the task of harvesting human souls, those meant to be sacrificed for Gwi-ma,” Romance answered without hesitation.

You stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Are you spewing nonsense again?” you scoffed, half-joking.

“No, I’m serious.” His expression was deadly calm. “Keep her here, I’m getting Jinu.”

“Romance? Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” You pushed yourself up, but Abby and Baby quickly held your arms, gently forcing you back down, while Mystery moved to distract you with a glass of water and soft reassurances.

“Relax, Boss. Don’t stress yourself,” Abby muttered.

“Let’s not trigger another fainting spell, alright?” Baby added.

You tried to shake them off, threatening to hit them—either with your hands or, if needed, a pan. But they seemed immune to your threats. Left with no choice, you actually swung. And yes, Abby got hit.

“OU—!” he hissed, now firmly grabbing your arms again to hold you still.

“Ugh! Don’t crowd me like this, let me go!!” you snapped, struggling against their grip.

“Let her go,” came a sudden voice, you turned your head—Jinu. And beside him, Romance.

“Oh great, you showed up too,” you snapped at Jinu, not holding back. “Now I want you to explain every weird thing that’s been happening. No lies, no more tricks, just tell me the damn truth.”

Jinu hadn’t answered yet. Instead, he looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one. “Are we really going to tell her everything?”

“Yes?” Romance said, arms crossed. “She literally heard Gwi-ma speak to her.”

“You talked to Gwi-ma?” Jinu’s gaze shifted to you now, disbelief in his voice.

“What even is your connection to Gwi-ma? Isn’t Gwi-ma just some old story or legend?”

Jinu shook his head slowly. “No, he’s real.”

Silence spread through the room like a chill draft.

“Let go of me,” you told Baby and Abby, who had still been holding you back. They released you without protest. You got up from the bed, stormed out of the room—and returned holding a pan.

You slammed it lightly against your palm. “Pick one: sit or kneel.”

“Uh, manager-nim, what are you trying to say…?” Abby asked nervously, eyes fixed on the pan.

“Nothing. Just pick one. Sit. Or. Kneel.”

They all froze, unsure whether to take you seriously or not.

Romance raised his hands. “Okay okay, no need for violence. I’ll sit.”

Baby clicked his tongue. “She’s serious. Don’t test her when she has cookware in her hands.”

“I’m serious because I need answers,” you snapped. “No more cryptic half-truths. I don’t care if I’m ‘just human’ or whatever—you dragged me into this mess, and now I’m part of it whether you like it or not. So someone start talking.”

Jinu exhaled slowly and sat down, legs crossed, eyes unreadable. “Fine, you want the truth?”

You nodded, gripping the handle of your pan tightly.

“Gwi-ma is… the one we made a deal with. Not all of us knew at first. But eventually, we all accepted it.”

“What kind of deal?” you asked. “And why the hell would you ever deal with something like that?”

“We were dying,” Romance said quietly. “Desperate for something—anything. And we made a deal with him.”

“He offered us a better life,” Baby added. “In exchange for his help… a pattern slowly appeared on our bodies. It won’t fade, no matter what we do.”

“That pattern reflects our shame,” Mystery continued, voice low. “The voice we keep hearing—it’s regret. It doesn’t stop. And now… we are his demons. We have to offer him human souls as payment.”

You stared at them in disbelief, your mind spinning. The old folktales your grandmother used to tell you, they were real.

“So… you’ve been demons all this time?” you asked, your voice trembling.

One by one, they nodded.

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling in your chest. "He said I was his daughter."

Jinu turned sharply to look at you. "Wait—what? We never knew anything about this."

"NEITHER DID I!" you snapped, voice cracking. “You think I knew anything?! All of this just hit me like a bomb, okay? Out of nowhere! One second I was normal, and the next—what? You’re all demons, and I’m suddenly his child? A demon’s child?! No, that’s not possible!”

You shoved up your sleeves and turned your arms over. “If I were his child, I’d have those stupid patterns too, right? But look—nothing! There’s nothing!”

Silence, the room felt like it was holding its breath.

Then Baby stepped forward, carefully, as if afraid you’d lash out again. “Not all patterns are visible,” he said softly. “Some of them… don’t show up unless he wants them to.”

You scoffed. “Great, even my skin is a lie now.”

Mystery looked uneasy. “Do you remember anything strange from your childhood? Nightmares? Blackouts? Maybe seeing someone watching you?”

You hesitated. A memory tried to claw its way up—but you shook it off. “I don’t know, I always thought I was just paranoid or tired. It’s not like I had the easiest childhood.”

Romance paced the room, rubbing his forehead. “If Gwi-ma said that… then it changes everything. He’s never taken an interest in anyone before. Ever.”

“And he talked to her,” Jinu said, more to himself than anyone. “Directly.”

You dropped your head into your hands. “Can I please just wake up now? I’m done, I’m done with this shit."

“I don’t think he’ll let you walk away,” Abby murmured. “If he called you his daughter, then maybe… maybe he thinks you’ll replace us.”

You were just about to ask Abby what he meant when a sudden notification lit up your phone screen.

"Wait, guys— HUNTRIX IS HOLDING A FAN EVENT TOMORROW!”

Your five boys stared at you in confusion as your expression shifted from confusion to pure delight in a split second.

“Okay, let’s just end this conversation right here,” you said quickly, brushing your hair back. “I just woke up from a nightmare, and maybe it messed with my brain a little, alright? You guys aren’t demons—look at you. You’re perfectly normal.”

“But Manager—” Jinu tried to interject.

“Shhh! I’ve been waiting so long for this Huntrix fan event. Don’t ruin it for me.”

The boys exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond. Romance leaned in and whispered to Jinu, “We have to be at that fan event tomorrow, let's head out now.”

“But what about her? She already knows everything, but she’s still in denial.”

“I’m in denial because this entire thing is insane, Jinu,” you snapped, placing your hands on your hips.

Jinu raised both palms in surrender. “Okay, okay… at least you look better now. More like your usual, angry self.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that—I meant your beautiful usual self?”

You narrowed your eyes at him with suspicion. He cleared his throat.

“Right, Boss, no offense… but, uh, can we borrow your sleeping bag?”

“For what?”

“Camping!” Mystery answered a bit too eagerly. “Yeah, camping.”

“Today? Seriously? Are you guys insane?”

“Please, just lend it to us?” Jinu pleaded. But his begging clearly had no effect on you, so he turned to Baby, signaling him to step in.

“I’m not going with you guys,” Baby replied lazily, flopping back onto the couch.

��Exactly, Baby. Don’t go with them,” you agreed with a firm nod.

“BABY?!” the rest of the group exclaimed in unison, as if he’d just betrayed the entire boyband.

PART: I. SEASONS, III. LILY, IV. BONFIRE

🧘🏻‍♀️ OKAY IM WORKING ON THE NEXT PART — hopefully i can type it quickly cuz i still have another draft to finish too 👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

© asthroophile 2025. All rights reserved. Do not copy, redistribute, or reproduce without explicit permission.

[wherescody]

Surprise

I got my last finals today. Just getting ready for it. Not letting me post a gif.

WrestleMania week was supposed to be magical. The lights, the chaos, the fanfare, it was the Super Bowl of wrestling. But for Y/N, it was just a reminder that timing could be painfully cruel.

Her finals had landed the same week, and nothing budged, no matter how much she tried to rearrange her schedule. She’d promised Cody she’d be there. They’d talked about it for months. But now she was stuck back home, surrounded by textbooks, highlighters, and the quiet buzz of late-night study sessions.

Cody had been sweet about it. Supportive, even. “You gotta ace those finals, babe,” he told her during one of their late FaceTime calls. “I’ll make WrestleMania wait for you next year.”

Still, she could tell he was disappointed. He tried to hide it behind his ever-charming smile and good-guy persona, but she knew him too well. WrestleMania wasn’t just another show—it was the show. And he wanted her there.

So, after her last final ended Friday afternoon, Y/N didn’t even go back to her dorm. She went straight to the airport with a duffel bag, adrenaline, and excitement bubbling in her chest. She knew Cody would be at SmackDown that night. And she had the perfect idea.

Backstage after his match, Cody was all smiles. He'd had a great segment, the crowd was electric, and WrestleMania was just around the corner. But as the adrenaline wore off, a familiar emptiness crept in.

He missed her.

He missed the way she always wore his merch, his merch, and screamed louder than the fans in the front row. He missed how she’d sneak into Gorilla just to throw him a thumbs-up before his entrance. Mostly, he missed having her around this week.

As he made his way out to the parking lot and toward his tour bus, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “One more show,” he muttered to himself. “Just one more.”

He opened the door to the bus, ready to crash for the night, when he froze.

“Hey, stranger.”

There she was, sitting cross-legged on the couch, hoodie sleeves covering her hands, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips. Her duffel bag was by her feet, and a half-empty can of Red Bull sat on the little table beside her.

Cody blinked, not entirely convinced he wasn't hallucinating.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked like he was still in high school. “What the—how?!”

She laughed, standing up and walking over to him, arms slipping around his waist. “Surprise. I finished my finals this afternoon. Took the first flight out. I couldn’t miss seeing you before WrestleMania.”

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she squeaked. “You’re insane,” he whispered into her hair. “The best kind of insane.”

They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the quiet hum of the bus surrounding them like a warm blanket.

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” he finally said, pulling back just enough to look at her face.

“I lied,” she grinned. “I wanted to see that shocked face in person.”

“Well, mission accomplished. You got me good.”

Y/N leaned up and kissed him, soft and lingering, as if making up for the week they’d lost. “I can’t stay long,” she whispered. “But I’m here now. And I’ll be at WrestleMania even if it’s from the nosebleeds.”

Cody grinned, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Forget the nosebleeds. You’re staying on this bus, and you’re coming with me. I’m sneaking you into Gorilla myself.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Nope. But I’m the American Nightmare, baby. I make the rules.”

She laughed, and for the first time in days, Cody felt whole again. His girl was here. Finals were done. WrestleMania could wait for just a moment while they caught up on cuddles and inside jokes and everything in between.

[taegularities]

from sparks to fire to ashes to a breeze… 👑

candles & flames: breeze 🤍

dropping Sunday, May 4th, around 6-7pm EST. editing, so if it takes longer, i'll postpone by a day or two!

it's going to be around 25k long, but y'all know me – might end up with more, but let's see :D we're 2 scenes in (from around 8) and already at 5k-ish. around 20k long!!! take your time reading it, but please don't forget to give it lots of love once you're done. since we're saying goodbye to them, it'd mean the world <3

this has been on the schedule for so long!! thank you for missing and loving them!! once it drops, and even before then, please hype it up a lot – life has been insane lately and there is a ton to do; so i'd love and need to know that the effort i'm putting into c&f is really worth it and that you guys are around.

if i feel like you aren't, i'll probably shift my focus off again and might have to keep the story stored in my brain bc it's a lot of work, y'all already know :') but i am hopeful you'll come through. 🥺 and i hope the wait's worth it, as always.

this is the last (bonus) chapter <3 see you then 🤍

teaser under the cut! 💕 let's talk about it :]

–

Jungkook plumps down on the carpet, knees pulled in and arms around them. He tilts his head with a tender smile, chest rising before he asks, “Did you have time to think about it? Going home?”

You remember a time not too long ago when you’d sit here like this, too; despite the couch in the back, you’d play with the twins and Hana right here, on this warm carpet, and Jungkook would join after work. You’d place your head on his shoulder and whisper-converse with him.

Sometimes, you’d fall asleep and wake up in his arms, in your bed, with the children secured in theirs. You never needed proof for how gentle Jungkook handles you — but if he could carry you into your room like a feather without disturbing a moment of your sleep, you were at utter peace, right?

He did that to you. He still does; his presence calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

You want to put your head on his chest again, slumber there. Instead, you nod and say, “I did, yes.”

“And?”

“Hana wants to go.”

His eyes move to the side, down to the floor, then back to you as he tries again, “And what about you?”

You shrug a little. “Can I really refuse my daughter’s wish?”

He moves closer; a very small distance, but noticeable to you. His eyes are intense as he emphasises, “What’s your wish, love?”

Yours? You have a lot of wishes.

Whispered upon falling stars and eyelashes. You can’t utter most of them now, though, can you? But maybe you should. Maybe, rather than the universe, it could be him granting you what you desire.

He can read your thoughts anyway. Because he encourages, “You can share your mind with me. I’m your husband, baby.”

You nod; let something in you break and break until your fingers move, up to one of his knees. He immediately puts a palm onto your digits, holds onto you as you say, “You are.”

“Only yours.”

You inhale deeply. The tears are less these days, but never truly gone. You blink before they can reemerge, quickly adding, “I will go if you want to go. Your wish is my wish.”

“It is?”

“Of course. I am yours, too.”

A rosy colour dusts his cheeks, as if he’s falling in love anew. But his gaze betrays him; still sad when he wonders, “Then… Can I say something very kitschy?”

You feel yourself melt just a little. A hint of a smile graces your face. “Always.”

“My wish is… that I want you back.” He drops his head the moment your heart sinks, too. Even from here, you see the damp waterline. “I want you to be mine the way you were. I wish to give you the same joy I used to. I just…” His voice shakes. “I need my girl back so badly.”

And then, another whisper, stuck in a loop, “I miss you.”

You nod again, tell him, “I know.” Because if you said anything more, you’d cry. You know you would.

He looks up at you, the rims of his eyes red, big eyes trapping the tears in. He sniffles; closes his lids, as if preparing for something. And then asks—

“Do you still love me?”

Do you?

Does he truly need to ask?

His presence still calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

–

we'll be back <3

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: After lots of games it is finally time for meet Dexter in person

Part 4

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The last few days were hectic, to say the least, with Dexter’s constant crew of agents surrounding him it was hard to send him any more goodies without risking exposing my identity earlier than I intended. I wasn’t sure if they’d allow me to send him treats without thoroughly expecting anything I send so I held back. Things were also hectic due to the new developments in the Bay Harbor Butcher case but also a big lead on someone the fraud department had been trying to catch for months, meaning my team was split pretty thin throughout the building trying to help with major and minor technology errors. It was absolutely insane how many calls we got where it was usually a simple fix, I love my job but god some of my coworkers are idiots. I crossed my arms over my chest with a sigh as I walked down the hallway past the homicide department towards the elevator, I couldn’t help but peek through the glad walls, I was surprised to see that Dexter and his entourage were nowhere to be seen. Though I could see him and another guy hiding away in the back, my attention was drawn away as I heard a voice call out my name. To my surprise it was Debra, Dexter’s sister, I didn’t know her very well but we had started talking more frequently as she’s needed my help quite often as of late.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you up here in a while, how have you been?” She said with a smile tucking her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve been alright considering everything that’s going on, how are you? I heard you guys found the butcher.”

“I’m alright as well, I’m just glad we’re close to putting this guy behind bars. It fucking sucks he was one of us though, you just never know what a person is like behind closed doors yknow?” I nodded stiffly trying not to laugh at the irony.

“Yeah, yeah it’s awful. The world’s a really scary place, but uh can I ask what was the deal was with all those FBI agents and your brother?”

“Ugh don’t even get me started on that, they were his protective detail just in case the butcher came after him but he fucking called them off. I was actually headed to go give him a piece of my mind about that when I saw you.”

“Well, they did seem kind of suffocating..” She gave me a look and I raised my hands defensively, “Sorry not my place, I’ll let you talk to him then.”

“Thanks, I will but uh I was wondering if you would maybe want to grab some drinks later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not tonight, I probably won’t be done until very late. Maybe another time, first round on me?” She frowned but nodded, she patted my shoulder before storming off to see her brother.

It was great news to hear that Dexter’s constant security detail was gone but it also meant he was off to cause trouble tonight and I was going to figure out what. For now, since I have the chance I should probably send another note, I left the department and headed back to my office. I didn’t like the fact I was going to have to print it here but it would have to do for now, I didn’t want to wait too long and lose his interest and curiosity. Once I was back in my office I had to figure out what I was going to write, the other notes came easy but this one was harder to write. The big finale of our interaction was coming, the day we were set to meet in person, I was thankful I had scheduled it for a week or so after I sent the note as having him meet me with security detail would not have been fun. Now that I knew they were officially gone I could send another note confirming that I still wanted to meet him that Friday after not sending anything for nearly two weeks straight, I printed it out in my office and placed it in the bag with the double fudge brownies I had originally brought as a treat after lunch to instead give to Dexter. This time I would deliver it myself to spice things up. As I walked towards the elevator I wondered if he would try to kill me, that’s definitely something I had to consider. I know he kills murders but I don’t know the full extent of how he operates and if I’m safe from being tied down on one of his tables, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Of course that doesn’t mean I was going to meet him unarmed, I would take my own precautions. I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around making sure he was in his office and approached. I knocked on the door and held out the bag of brownies with the note as I smiled at him.

“Special delivery for Dexter Morgan.” I handed them to him and he offered them, I couldn’t help but notice the grin that briefly appeared on his face.

“Oh thank you, any chance you’re willing to tell me who this admirer is?” He asked as he set it down on his desk and looked away not expecting much.

“Sorry no can do, but I hear it won’t be long. Make sure to clear your calendar for Friday.”

I smirked and turned to make a quick exit when I saw the infamous Lila who Debra could not shut up about, she frowned and I knew she saw my interaction with Dexter and I could only imagine what she was thinking but it couldn’t be good. Before I could do anything she said goodbye to the detective she was talking to and hurried out the room towards the elevator. I sighed knowing that there was no way that this could end well, I left the department with a glance back at Dexter. It wasn’t a surprise that our eyes met again, I just smiled and disappeared out the door.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter read the note as he savored the brownie, it was delicious as always but his mind drifted to the brief conversation with a particular someone who he’d been seeing more frequently around the office. Most would say it was a coincidence but Dexter had stopped believing in those long ago with the job he had, they had to be the secret admirer or very closely involved with them. It didn’t make sense though, how could someone so normal and friendly be like him, he simply refused to believe it. From the most recent note it appears he’ll have an answer soon enough, they reiterated their intentions to meet at the beach beside Coral Cove Marina tomorrow afternoon. It was unsettling how much they knew about him and Dexter wondered if he would have to kill them, his number one rule was to not get caught and it’s not like they were innocent. But if he was interpreting the notes correctly they were likely about as innocent as he was, it was conflicting and killing them would make him the biggest hypocrite. Harry’s code has never prepared him for a situation like this. What right would he have to kill them if they worked under a similar code of conduct as he did? If what he did was just how could he persecute you for the exact thing he would be doing to you?

Rather than fretting over the ethical conundrum of his secret admirer, Dexter had other matters that needed his attention like whether or not he would have to kill this ‘Harlow’ person, after searching up his phone number it wasn’t hard to find his full name. Dexter put Christopher Harlow into the department's database, a known alias for one Jose Garza who had committed various crimes but none of which involved murder. Dexter didn’t need to kill him as long as he didn’t know where the cabin was, so he sent a quick text inviting him there to get his ‘snow’. Dexter didn’t wait long for a response and was relieved to hear that he had no clue, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and stood up. He needed to have a quick chat with Debra but more importantly, he needed more answers from Doakes. What he said had stuck with him, was Harry truly not who he said he was?

★ ✮ ★

Of course, I followed Dexter after he left work, I knew better than anyone he didn’t ditch his security detail just to lay around at home and watch tv porn. My suspicions were confirmed when he didn’t take the usual right at the light toward his apartment, I drove far behind keeping a safe distance between us to avoid being caught. Which grew harder to do as he ventured into the more rural part of Maimi, eventually he turned down a long dirt road. I watched as he took one more turn and eventually turned off his car, as I crept slowly towards the turn I could see up ahead was a very remote cabin. Now that I know where it was I could come back later to see what exactly he was doing here, for now, I had more important things to tend to like Franklin Graney.

The thirty-eight-year-old phone technician who not only kills people but violates them alive and dead, he’d just finished checking in after his last job for the day and was about to head home. He made his way to his truck but before he could even unlock it I came up behind him and used my wire garrote to strangle him, I forced him to kneel on the ground and pushed him away from me so he couldn’t reach back to scratch me. It only took a few minutes for him to pass out, I let his body haphazardly fall onto the concrete. I left him there and pulled my car up beside his, then I dragged him into my backseat. I got into the front and sighed, I peeked back at him through my rearview mirror with a frown but resolved myself to finish the job. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to paradise.

Paradise was in the basement of an abandoned hospital, specifically an abandoned hospital with a morgue built into its basement which was equipped with everything I needed. Of course, I had to rig a few things to work the way I needed them to and clean things very deeply, it was awful in here when I first found it. Now it looked quite nice and I had even decorated it to my liking, and I had taken several measures so that any wanna-be urban explorers wouldn’t be able to get down here even if they tried. It was truly perfect. I turned on my music and got to work dismembering and draining the blood to save for later.

It was nearly midnight when I finished, cleanup was messier than usual today but I got what I needed. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring any of the meat or blood I harvested home because Debra was, unfortunately, spending the night, after we went drinking the last time she confided in me about her relationship with Lundy and apparently took that as us being friends now. I wasn’t a big fan of Debra but if I was going to pursue Dexter I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to befriend her, so even if it was unconventional to have her over I was prepared for this. It took a lot of reading, trial, and error but I had successfully managed to rig this floor to a generator which allowed me to use the mortuary fridge. I slid out one of the chambers originally used to store bodies and set the coolers containing the meat and blood onto it, then I slid it back in and shut the door. All I had to do now was take what was left of the body and incinerate it, I chose this hospital specifically because of its incinerator. I could start and finish my disposal of the corpse in one place and didn’t have to bother traveling around to complete the job it was wonderful, I placed the remnants on a cadaver stretcher and wheeled them into the other room. I opened the incinerator door and pulled out the long tray that slides inside, I transferred everything onto it and slid it back in. Then after pressing a button and pulling the lever, the incinerator roared to life, thankfully it was advanced enough to shut off on its own. I just had to come back for the bones another day, I walked back into the main room and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out. I needed to get as much sleep as I could considering what I had planned for tomorrow.

I quietly shut my front door behind me as I slipped off my shoes, of course, Deb had just tossed hers over here haphazardly. I bent over and neatly put them to the side like mine, as I stood back up I was surprised when a light turned on behind me. Debra was sitting up on the couch still awake, I completely forgot that she was still struggling to fall asleep when she was on her own. I smiled over at her and approached.

“You really were out super late.”

“Yeah, I really needed to blow off some steam then I ended up driving around not realizing how late it had gotten.” She nodded but still looked at me a bit odd.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re back safe. I was starting to think something bad happened to you.” I gave her a spin and smiled.

“Well as you can see I’m A-okay, but I desperately need a shower and to sleep for at least a decade.” I walked past her towards my bedroom, “ Good night Deb oh and I probably won’t be at work tomorrow by the way.” I said before shutting the door behind me, I desperately needed to sleep in and prepare for my meeting with Dexter tomorrow.

I tossed my bag off to the side of my bedroom and started to undress, I grabbed my towel and got into the shower. The water was warm and poured down my back it was like a really wet and warm hug. I reveled in it as I wrapped my arms around myself, killing people wasn’t something I had ever come around to enjoying and wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life. I had my life fucked from the beginning by people even more fucked up than I had become, so now I kill people so that I could cannibalize them. What a twisted life I was living, everyone I knew would be mortified to learn about what I do or the kinds of things I eat. Though if things continued the way they were nobody ever would, I finished showering and stepped out. The bathroom was warm and foggy from all the steam from my shower, I wrapped my towel around me before wiping away the steam on the mirror. I stared at my reflection briefly and a bloody monster stared back at me, I turned away and quickly left the bathroom. I just needed to go to bed rather than dwelling on things I couldn’t change as it wasn’t doing me any good.

Friday morning came faster than I anticipated but I made sure to call out yesterday so I slept in until ten, though it was hard to stay asleep when I had exciting plans for today. I got dressed and practically ran out the door, thankfully Deb had already left. I got into my car, I still had some time before it was noon so I decided to check out Dexter’s cabin in the woods before meeting him at the beach. I struggled a bit to remember where I was going but the closer I got the easier it was to remember, and eventually, I made it. Thankfully it seemed Dexter wasn’t here right now, I got out of the car and my clothes flowed slightly in the breeze. I nervously approached the cabin, it was old and looked damn near run down. I opened the door and was instantly met with a foul but familiar stench, I winced but stepped inside despite it and was surprised to see Sergeant Doakes locked behind a cage.

“Thank you, god, please you have to get me out of here.” He said with a relieved sigh as he stood up.

“What-what happened to you? Why are you locked up here?” I asked mostly to myself as I approached the cage resting my hand against the bars.

“It’s that freak, Dexter Morgan, he’s the Bay Harbor Butcher and he locked me in here. You have to get me out, the keys are over there.”

I frowned and I genuinely felt bad, to be honest, I liked Doakes and respected him as an officer but I couldn’t let him expose Dexter when I still had business with him. I thought for a moment debating what I should do, I didn’t want to leave him here as realistically Doakes hadn’t done anything wrong besides getting too close to the truth. Which was probably why Dexter hadn’t killed him already. It was his problem to deal with and I really shouldn’t get involved, I turned around and bolted out of the cabin despite his cries for help. I felt sick to my stomach, just leaving him there but what was I supposed to do? I had finally found someone somewhat like me, how could I throw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? I quickly turned my car around and drove as fast as I could back to the main road, I decided to head to the beach even though there was still time before noon. I could hang out there and wait for Dexter to arrive but also spend some time clearing my head.

★ ✮ ★

After an enlightening but also earth-shattering conversation with Captain Matthew Dexter was lost, despite that he still arrived at the beach on time to finally find out who this secret admirer was. He stood far away from the shore in the shade with his hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance where the ocean stretched out for miles farther than he could see but he also observed the various people littered across the beach. So when someone approached him from his left he turned to see who it was, and his suspicions were confirmed though it left him with far more questions than answers. She smiled at him but seemed apprehensive and kept a safe but reasonable distance.

“See we finally met huh? I’m sure you’re already working out how to get rid of me in your head which I wouldn’t recommend unless you want everyone at the office to know it was you. I’m just here to talk, now can we do that or are you going to take care of me like you did Roger?” Despite her body language showing how anxious from her eyes Dexter could see she wasn’t afraid.

“I have to admit I’m impressed by how bold you are, but you know me well. I won’t kill you for now just don’t give me a reason to.” He said narrowing his eyes slightly for a moment daring her to try something, “Why have you been sending me these gifts, what is it that you want from me?”

“That’s a great question, honestly at first I was just messing with you but then I grew curious once I found out you were the infamous Bay Harbor butcher. We operate in similar ways and I was a bit envious of how neatly you worked, at some point I started to look up to you and maybe even develop a crush.” She admitted turning away and walking further towards the beach, “It’s not every day you meet a serial killer especially one with morals. I figured we could be friends or something.” She said with a laugh as Dexter followed slowly behind her as they walked along the beach.

It was weird for Dexter to hear the words ‘serial killer’ fall so casually from her lips as she laughed like it was the most innocent thing in the world. Dexter’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and complex thoughts, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they asked to meet him here. But he definitely wasn’t expecting a genuine love confession, sure they had been sending him notes under the guise of a secret admirer but he assumed it was just an excuse. Not to mention he was still conflicted as you did have morals on killing like he did so it’s not like he could justifiably kill you, this entire situation was baffling. Dexter couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her though, despite being weary she still carried herself with a confidence and aliveness that he didn’t have. He couldn’t wrap himself around how she could when they were the same, what did she have that he didn’t?

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it? I’m sure this is kind of a lot.” She said with an awkward laugh, Dexter wondered if she could read his mind.

“I just never imagined I would find someone like-minded, but you want to be friends? How do I know you won’t just betray me?”

“Uhh I don’t know…” She paused thinking for a moment weighing her options in her head, “I could give you the location to my kill room? Then you could give me something more concrete about, uh let’s call it our hobby, then we’ll be even. Is that good enough for you?” Dexter thought for a moment, he hesitated but he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t desperate for a connection much like this one.

“Sharing our vulnerabilities would be enough for me to consider this friendship, I keep my tools in a secret compartment in a chest in my apartment.” Dexter frowned as soon as the words came out his mouth, why did he tell her that, he could be risking his entire well-being just for some woman. But after everything going on with Rita and Lila, he needed someone more like-minded and rational.

“Oh so that’s what was in that trunk, I knew it was suspicious. Well, there’s this abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town that closed a little over a decade ago, in the basement is where I keep everything and do my work. There now we both have a safeguard in case of the other.”

“Yes, mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly, but now for the other reason I invited you here. I do want to actually get to know you as a person Dexter, so how do you feel about treating this as an actual date?” She extended her hand out to him offering to hold hands.

Dexter mused for a moment with an unreadable expression as he stared down at her hand, “An actual date doesn’t sound bad. That’s fine with me.” He laced his fingers between her and she smiled.

“Perfect, I should probably start by introducing myself.” She told Dexter her name and he remembered Debra mentioning her once or twice, “Anyway do you know why I chose this beach?” She asked.

Dexter nodded and listened quietly as the woman went into a long speech about why she had chosen this beach besides its connections to Dexter. They walked along the shore as she did hand in hand with the sun shining down on them from high in the sky, from afar they appeared to be a normal-looking couple on a normal date. Dexter still wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he was at least enjoying the company as she made for a decent conversationalist. Not to mention he didn’t have to sugarcoat what he said because of a certain hobby of his because she understood, it was refreshing for him. Intoxicating even, his grip on her hand tightened slightly as he stared forward listening carefully to her words.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up walking along the shore talking for several long hours, well I did most of the talking as Dexter wasn’t exactly the chatty type which was fine. He still responded and was actively listening to what I said and occasionally when the topic broached something he was passionate about then he became chatty, but just as quickly he’d go quiet as if he was afraid to be passionate about anything. It was odd but I decided not to comment on it, as it was still the first date and I would have plenty of time to learn about him. Especially about the way he operated, and at some point our conversation drifted that way. I had seen his neatness in person, and I complimented him on how amazing it was that he never left a crime scene. He was very interested in how I disposed of my bodies though, I kept it vague and only talked about the incinerator. It was too early to talk about my cannibalism, I’m sure that’d scare him off faster than I could say, cannibal.

Eventually, the conversation strayed away from our extracurricular activities, we talked about our masks and he was curious how I hid who I really was so well, we talked about family, our normal pass times, and at some point the meaning of life. It was nice being able to let go like this, not having to hide what I do because someone wouldn’t understand. It was like I was breathing for the first time, and from the relaxed smile on Dexter’s face, I could tell he felt the same. I glanced past him and could see the sun setting over the horizon, it was a beautiful sight and the sun illuminated Dexter with a warm glow.

“This is so nice, I feel like I just let a huge weight off my chest. Not to mention the sunset is amazing, it’s so beautiful.” I said walking towards it as Dexter followed closely behind me as our hands were still linked.

“Yeah, admittedly this is kind of nice. I almost feel alive.” He said staring out at the sun with his hand on his heart.

“News flash buddy, you always were alive. You’ve been living every moment, I think you just can’t see it.” He glanced at me but didn’t respond so I changed the topic, “So does this mean I get a second date? I think this went too well to end with one.”

“Yeah, I think a second date would be quite nice.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Previous | Next

[mountttmase]

When You Know - Part 4

Note - I know two months between each part is insanity but I hope you’re all excited for this part 🤭 it’s a bit of a wild ride. Also I know the game doesn’t fit but I based it on the Lyon one so just imagine those goals. Enjoy!!!!!!

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.2k

Warnings - angst and fluff

The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the distant chirp of a bird outside the window. Mason dropped his phone face down on the counter with a thud as he slid onto a stool at the island, his shoulders tense and jaw clenched.

Debbie glanced up from the kettle, instantly noticing the storm on his face and considered whether or not to say anything but in the end she knew he was just huffing and puffing so that she would talk to him so she made the first move as he clearly wasn’t about to come out with it on his own.

‘What’s that look for?’ she asked, drying her hands on a tea towel before popping it on the side. ‘You look like someone’s just nicked your car’

‘She just took him’ Mason muttered, staring down at the marble countertop with his voice barely audible but Debbie just about managed to catch it. ‘Didn’t even ask’

‘Who took who?’ Debbie frowned, confused by her son's incoherent ramblings but she could tell from the way his brows were pinched he was extremely upset.

‘Y/n’ he snapped. ‘I messaged to ask if Freddie could come to the match Thursday, I wanted him to be my mascot for the game for the first time, but she said she’s taken him to London for the week to see her family. Said they won’t be back till the weekend’

Debbie arched a brow, not impressed by Mason's little hissy fit. ‘Okay… and?’

‘Doesn’t she need to ask me before she does stuff like that?’ Mason asked, his tone defensive now. ‘I mean if it were me taking him somewhere, I’d need to run it by her wouldn’t I?’

‘Why on earth would she need your permission?’ Debbie asked, giving him a long withering look but Mason just blinked back at her. Unsure as to why his own mother didn’t appear to be on his side.

‘Because I’m his dad?’

She sighed, leaning against the counter. ‘Right, his dad. Which means more than just genetics and popping in to see him when it suits you’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Mason frowned, his heart thumping at the way she was speaking to him and suddenly it was like he was 7 years old again being told off for not being home before curfew.

Debbie hesitated for a beat and Mason knew she meant business, clearly this was something she had strong opinions on and he knew he was about to feel the full weight of them. ‘I’ve been holding off on saying this because I didn’t want to step on toes, but I think it’s time we had a proper chat’ she told him. Sitting down on the stool opposite him so they could talk eye to eye but Mason was still unsure as to what she was going to say.

‘About what?’

‘About you. And Freddie, and y/n and how you’re handling this. Or rather not handling it I should say’

Masons jaw tightened as he looked away. This was the last thing he needed to hear right now.

‘Y/n is raising that boy 24/7, Mase. Every minute of every day. If she wanted to take him to Timbuktu she could and she wouldn’t need to tell you because you’ve never made yourself someone who needs to be told’

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could even try to defend himself.

‘You’re flakey with him, love. And I say that with all the love in the world, but it’s true. You show up when it’s convenient for you, you know? A few selfies for social media, a trip to the zoo if it fits your schedule but where are you the rest of the time? That’s your son Mason, your boy. Your flesh and blood and I didn’t raise you to be the kind of man who turns his back when it gets hard’

Mason looked down at the counter like he wanted it to swallow him. Had he thought these things about himself before? Of course he had. But to hear them coming from his mothers mouth, the person who was supposed to look past his flaws and still love him anyway made him feel sick to the stomach.

‘Was your dad ever like this with you?’ Debbie asked softly, folding her arms as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just quiet and inquisitive and Mason felt like that just made things worse.

Mason didn’t even have to think about it. The answer came out low and almost ashamed.

‘No’

‘Then why?’ she asked with eyes locked on him. ‘Why are you doing it to your own son?’

He looked away, jaw tightening once more. The weight of the question pressed heavy against his chest but instead of confronting it, he pushed back as he was feeling back into a corner.

‘I thought you were meant to be on my side’ he muttered, huffing as he rubbed a hand over his face but little did he know that comment would about to set his mum off in a way he never expected.

‘There shouldn’t be sides, Mason’ she snapped, firmer now as his comment had wound her up. ‘This isn’t one of your bloody matches’

Mason didn’t answer, but he knew where she was going with this and he knew he had to sit and listen.

‘You’re not the one who’s had to pick up the pieces’ she continued, her voice laced with frustration now. ‘Who held her hand when she gave birth, Mase? I did. Because you weren’t there. Do you know who stood in our driveway and held her while she sobbed so hard I thought she might break a few months back? That was me too, after you bailed on Freddie again and that awful article came out’

Mason flinched, remembering the article well. He remembered probably seeing it before you had and not calling straight away thinking it was easier to stay silent until the guilt had gotten to him. Not that it made any difference, you’d refused to answer and he knew getting him mum involved wouldn’t end well for him but he needed to know you were okay no matter what.

‘I’m sorry if I’m not seeing it from your side’ she added bitterly, ‘but maybe that’s because you don’t even try to see it from hers’

Her words hit harder than he wanted them to. Clenching his fists under the table as guilt threaded through him like barbed wire. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, what he hadn’t done, but hearing it laid out like that made it real in a way he’d been avoiding.

Debbie’s voice softened again, but there was still steel beneath it and he knew he had to be honest. ‘I’ll ask you one more time’ she pressed. ‘Why are you behaving like this?’

Mason stared down at the table, his throat tight. His first instinct was to deflect again, to say he was busy and overwhelmed and in over his head but all those things felt hollow now. No doubt you were feeling all of these things too, but you still woke up every morning and got on with it just like you always did with no complaints.

‘I don’t know’ he said finally, the words eventually crawling their way out. ‘I just… every time I think about trying to fix it, I get this knot in my chest. Like it’s already too late’

Debbie stayed quiet, letting him get everything out no matter how hard he was finding it but the quieter she was the more he realised he had to fill the space.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt her’ he sniffed, his voice cracking. ‘But I know I did and now every time I try to make it right I feel like I’m walking into a fire I set myself’

‘She’s not asking you to fix everything overnight’ Debbie replied gently. ‘She’s just asking you to show up, you know? To at least try’

Mason looked up at her, eyes tired and clouded with regret. ‘What if I’m not enough?’

‘Of course you are, you’re just not giving yourself or them the chance to see it. You think showing up late is worse than not showing up at all but I promise you, Freddie won’t care when you got it right. He’ll just care that you did’

Mason swallowed hard, a knot still lodged deep in his chest but something had shifted.

Maybe it wasn’t too late, but he was still petrified.

‘I’m scared’

He knew it was a cop out. Something you say when you don’t have an answer and he could see she wasn’t buying it fully but it was true. Mason was petrified.

‘Scared of what?’

‘That I’ll fuck it up, that I’ll hurt him. That I’ll be the reason he grows up with… issues’

Debbie softened slightly, coming around the island to sit beside him as she could tell he needed some comfort now. ‘Sweetheart, whatever it is you’re scared of, what you’re doing now is worse. A lot worse because he’s going to remember this. He’s going to remember that you weren’t there and that you left his mum when she needed you most. That you popped in and out when you felt like it’

‘I don’t even think he likes me’ Mason confessed, voice cracking slightly as he was being so vulnerable and now he was talking it was like he couldn’t stop. ‘Not really’

‘You’re his dad Mase, of course he loves you. But you’re not giving him a chance to know you. You buy him all the right things and you cheer the loudest when he’s around but what about the everyday stuff? The boring stuff? Who reads him a bedtime story? Who brushes his hair and checks if his nightlight’s on?’

Mason stayed silent, eyes stinging as everything he’d fucked up with his boy was being laid out in front of him.

‘That’s what he remembers’ Debbie said softly. ‘Not the stadiums or the presents. It’s the little things, the constant things. And right now that’s not you’

‘Is it too late?’ He pouted, unsure as to whether he’d ruined everything but the hopeful look on Debbie’s face lifted him a little bit.

‘No’ she said firmly. ‘But the longer you leave it, the heavier it gets. He’s still young so you’ve got time to fix this but only if you want to’

‘I do’ Mason mumbled quietly. ‘I just don’t know how’

‘Start small’ she suggested. ‘Be consistent, yeah?. Show up for him and no more excuses. You don’t have to be perfect, okay? you just have to be present. That’s the man your son needs and that’s the man y/n needs too’

He looked at her, guilt burning behind his eyes as her words settled in his chest. He knew all this already, of course he did, but he’d had his head stuck in the sand for so long it was like he could no longer hear what needed to be said.

Mason had always had his family around to keep him humble and right now he was more appreciative of his mum than ever for not caring about his feelings but just saying what needed to be said. His heart and mind beggining to clear as he saw things from everyone’s perspective and the most overwhelming emotion he could feel was shame.

‘I don’t understand why you left them’ Debbie added gently, breaking Mason out of his little trance. ‘And it’s not really my place to understand, but what I do know is that she’s vulnerable. She’s doing all this alone, Mase. You made a family with her and whether you’re together or not that means something. So stop running from it and start stepping up’

Mason nodded slowly, the weight of it all pressing down on him fully but for the first time he didn’t want to run from it. He wanted to do better. For Freddie, for you and also for himself.

Because for the first time he could see it clearly. Being a father wasn’t about waiting until you were ready, it was about showing up when you weren’t and staying.

The sound of his phone buzzing pulled him from his thoughts, looking down to see your name popping up on the screen and without a second thought he opened your message with his heart lodged in his throat.

‘She said they can make it’ Mason exhaled, relief flooding his body but it was followed by a huge wave of guilt. Of course you would make sure Freddie was there, you would never let him miss out on anything as you always put him first and he knew that learning to make sure he was now doing the same wouldn’t be too hard as you were the best teacher.

Debbie didn’t say anything, just gave him a knowing smile as she stood up and left Mason to sit with his thoughts but all he could think about was what to say to you to try and make this all better.

‘I still can’t believe you said yes to this’ Lu muttered, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glanced down the tunnel.

‘He’s his dad, Lu-‘ you began with a sigh, but she cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

‘More like the devil himself’ she snapped, eyes narrowing as she kept her eye out for him. ‘With a shit haircut’

You couldn’t help but laugh. She had a way of saying things that made everything feel just a bit lighter, even when it shouldn’t.

Lu hadn’t been in your life for long, but somehow, it already felt impossible to imagine it without her. You’d met her while you were still pregnant with Freddie during a trip down to visit your family whilst you were navigating the Tube during rush hour. Six months pregnant and weighed down with heavy bags hadn’t been one of your best decisions and the sea of indifferent commuters pushing past you didn’t exactly help the situation.

‘Let me grab those for you’ a voice called out behind you. Turning to see a blur of blonde hair and bold energy coming towards you and before you could even respond, she was bounding down the stairs ahead of you and waiting at the bottom with her arms already extended like she’d known you forever.

She was a whirlwind but in the best way. Helping you onto the train and insisting you take the only available seat whilst chatting the whole way like you were old friends. As it turned out, you were both getting off at the same stop so she insisted on walking you the rest of the way home, bags in hand and refusing to let you lift a thing. By the time you reached your front door you’d demanded her number so you could pay her back somehow but in reality you just didn’t want that to be the last time you saw her.

Since then you hadn’t seen each other often in person, but you spoke constantly. Voice notes, rants, late-night chats, Lu was your sounding board and your fiercest defender. The person you could always count on to be firmly in your corner and the kind of friend who didn’t need to know every detail to know when someone had hurt you and who wasn’t shy about saying it.

And that was exactly what worried you now.

She didn’t know the version of Mason that you used to love, the one who made you laugh until your ribs hurt and held you like you were the most precious thing he owned. All she’d seen were the worst chapters, the ones where you were left to carry everything on your own and you’d never held back when venting to her because Lu never judged. Just swore on your behalf and plotted fictional revenge that she promised she would enact one day.

So yes, you’d invited her up this time and yes, it had seemed like a good idea when you planned it. But now, standing here about to hand Freddie over to Mason you were wondering if you should’ve added a clause. Only come if you promise not to stab anyone with your eyes.

Because today you needed to stay calm and more importantly you needed her to behave too.

‘I can’t exactly say no’ you said, glancing down at Freddie who was clutching your shirt with his tiny fists. ‘I want him to have nice memories when he’s older. If I start gatekeeping moments like this then that’s just rubbish of me’

Lu didn’t soften, and you shouldn’t have expected her to. ‘You had your son with the definition of rubbish’ she muttered, scanning the crowd of staff and players assembling in the tunnel. You didn’t rise to it though as there wasn’t much she could say that you hadn’t thought yourself on your worst nights.

But then she perked up, her eyes locking on someone further down the line. ‘Okay, hold on’ she smirked, nodding discreetly toward Bayindir who was standing a few feet away chatting casually with a teammate and seemed to be completely oblivious to her stares. ‘He’s cute, why couldn’t you have had a baby with him?’

You rolled your eyes, already seeing the mischief growing across her face.

‘I mean, look at him’ Lu continued, giving him an exaggerated once-over. ‘He’s giving gentle giant vibes. I bet he writes poetry and makes a mean Turkish coffee. Scrap that-‘ she leaned in with a grin, ‘I think I want him’

‘You’re insane’ you laughed, shaking your head and praying that no one had heard her but even if they had she didn’t seem like she cared.

‘I’m just saying, if you’re going to accidentally create life with someone, at least do it with someone whose moral compass isn’t way off’

‘Lu’ you warned gently, voice low. ‘Not now’

She sighed but didn’t argue. ‘Fine, I’ll behave. But I swear to God, if he so much as breathes in the wrong tone when he gets here-‘

‘He won’t’ you muttered, hoping it was true but you you never knew with Mason what version you were about to meet.

The crowd in the tunnel started to shift, staff members stepping aside as the players began filtering toward the front. You spotted the familiar figure of Mason emerging from the far end, head down and focused until his eyes lifted and found you.

Your pulse quickened, and it had nothing to do with nerves about the game. Still cross with yourself that he had such a hold over you but you just gulped and held Freddie a little tighter.

Mason was walking toward you now, his expression unreadable but something about his eyes looked different. Less guarded almost and he looked as though he was seeing you again for the first time.

‘Hey’ Mason breathed as he appeared, a little out of breath and his voice softer than you expected.

“Oh h-hi,” you replied, adjusting Freddie’s position in your arms.

His eyes flicked to Lu and you could tell he knew who she was instantly even though they’d never met before. ‘Hey, Lu. It’s nice to meet you’

‘Is it?’ she replied coolly, arching a brow before her eyes landed on you. ‘I’ll meet you up there’ she added quickly, giving you a pointed look before turning on her heel and striding off toward the stands.

Mason watched her go, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly but surprisingly enough he took on the chin before his gaze was back on you.

‘Do I need to wait somewhere, or…?’ You questioned and you watched him jump in realisation that you had no idea what you were doing.

‘Oh, yeah sorry’ he nodded. ‘If you follow Greg over there, he’ll take you to the sideline. When everything’s done, I’ll bring him back to you and Greg will walk you up to your seats’

‘Right, got it’ you nodded before you turned your attention back to Freddie, brushing a hand over his soft hair in order to wake him slightly. ‘Hey, sleepy man’ you cooed gently. ‘You need to wake up now, look who’s here’

‘Hey, mate’ Mason whispered as he stepped closer. His reaching for Freddie’s back and at his touch Freddie stirred slowly. Eyes blinking against the lights of the tunnel but as soon as they focused on Mason, a shy smile tugged at his lips. Tucking himself tighter into your neck but you saw the way his little fingers clenched in excitement. ‘You ready to come on the pitch with me?’ Mason asked, voice low and affectionate and you couldn’t help but smile.

You hesitated only a second before gently passing him into his arms. Freddie melting into Mason instantly with his head resting against his shoulder and his thumb slipping into his mouth like it always did when he was still waking up. Mason adjusted his grip naturally, holding him with ease as he pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

Your heart ached watching how quickly Freddie settled, how at home he looked in his father’s arms despite the time that had passed since they’d seen each other. You cleared your throat and stepped back as Greg gave you a quiet nod, motioning for you to follow him out toward the stands. Only glancing over your shoulder one last time before you let them be.

Mason was whispering to Freddie as he carried him toward the pitch, pointing out the players and calming him from the noise of the stands filled to the brim with fans. You saw him kiss his cheek again, one quick peck followed by one lingering one. Not for show, just out of pure love for his boy.

When the time came, Mason reappeared at the side with Freddie tucked against his chest once again, sleepy and content.

‘Someone doesn’t want to let go’ Mason laughed as he tried to hand him back to you, but Freddie was refusing to budge until you called his name and he looked up at you with a smile. Reaching for you with flushed cheeks from all the excitement and his eyes heavy as you kissed his forehead breathed him in.

Mason hesitated just long enough to gently squeeze your shoulder. A brief touch, barely a second, but there was something unspoken in it that you couldn’t put your finger on. But just like that he was gone again, jogging back towards the pitch and leaving you standing there with your son in your arms and a strange flutter in your chest you didn’t quite know what to do with.

You did as you were told and followed Greg up to your seats just in time for kick-off. As always, Freddie was quickly the center of attention and was passed from person to person with everyone eager for a cuddle or a quick hello and he soaked it all up with that sweet, sleepy grin that made your heart ache a little.

Thankfully Lu was on her best behaviour, or at least her version of it anyway. She kept her comments to a minimum and much to your surprise, seemed more into the match than you'd expected. Still you were caught completely off guard when she let out a full-throated cheer along with the rest of Mason’s family after he scored just after the second half was back underway.

‘He may be a dick’ she murmured under her breath, leaning closer with a sly smile, ‘but that was kinda impressive’ she giggled before lifting Freddie’s hands above his head to make it look like he was cheering too. His giggles were instant, lighting up his whole face and making your heart swell.

You didn’t know much about football at all really. You were never quite sure what you were supposed to be looking out for but judging by the buzz in the box and the proud chatter around you, Mason was playing well. Really well, and despite everything you felt happy for him.

But it was in the final minutes that he truly stunned you.

A misplaced pass from the keeper came flying toward him. He took it in stride and almost effortlessly launched the ball straight into the back of the net from just past the halfway line causing the stadium to erupt.

Freddie burst into giggles as Lewis, clearly overwhelmed with excitement, lifted him into the air like he’d scored the goal himself. You couldn’t help it but you laughed too, caught somewhere between amazement and pride as Mason’s teammates swarmed him.

And for a moment, just one, you let yourself feel that pride too.

When the final whistle blew, you made your way back into the box to wait for him. Freddie had found his way into Debbie’s arms again, tucked against her shoulder as if nothing in the last few hours had happened at all. Watching him press his face into her neck and once again felt a deep and quiet gratitude for her and for this family that had never made you feel like an outsider.

Whatever complicated history existed between you and Mason, at least this was something good.

‘He’s so calm, must get that from you’ Debbie whispered softly, gazing down at Freddie who was nestled contentedly in her arms now.

‘Mason was the opposite, I take it?’

‘Like a bull in a china shop’ she chuckled warmly. ‘Always charging into things, usually headfirst’

You laughed gently, eyes on your son as your heart burst your chest. ‘I’ve taught him the sacred art of the lie-in, he’s got no choice with me’

Debbie grinned, her eyes crinkling at the sides just like her sons did whenever he smiled wide. ‘Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it’ she winked before you both looked back at Freddie with soft smiles.

‘I’m just popping to the loo’ you said, lifting your bag. ‘You okay with him for a minute?’

‘Are you kidding? I could hold him all day’ she laughed, her smile warm as she cuddled him closer.

You slipped away, grateful for the breather. The bathroom gave you a moment to breathe and check your face in the mirror. This whole day had been more emotionally loaded than you expected and you could already feel your walls wobbling.

You weren’t gone long, but as you stepped back into the corridor you walked straight into a solid wall of someone and your breath caught. They were warm and familiar and their hands were suddenly on your hips steadying you.

‘Sorry-‘ you began, but your voice stalled the second you looked up.

Mason.

His big brown eyes were already on you, soft and unreadable although you caught a flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not smug or teasing, just soft and understanding.

‘Hey’ he whispered, voice low and a little breathless like he hadn’t expected to see you either. ‘You okay?’

You nodded softly, your heart stuttering with the jolt as this felt so familiar yet so different at the same time and for a second, neither of you moved.

Then all of a sudden his hands dropped from your waist and the air between you shifted, full of things neither of you had said yet and would probably get the chance too.

‘Hey’ you gulped, voice tight like always with him so you could try and control your emotions. ‘Congratulations’

‘Thanks’ he smiled, shifting his weight but you could tell he was looking unusually nervous. ‘Listen, do you think I could borrow you for a second? Before we head back in I just I wanna talk to you real quick’

You hesitated, then nodded. Following him into an empty room across from where everyone else was so it was just the two of you, slightly out of sight and also slightly out of breath as you were so nervous to be alone with him. The room was dark apart from the tiny amount of sunlight coming from the windows and it seemed to make everything feel more intense and intimate.

‘I just wanted to say thank you again’ he began, his tone careful. ‘For making sure Freddie was here today. It meant the world to me to have him here, to have you both here’

You nodded slightly, but didn’t respond. There was too much sitting behind your ribs for simple words and Mason hadn't spoken to you like this in the longest time.

He swallowed and continued anyway. ‘And… I wanted to say I’m sorry’

That caught your attention, your eyes flicking up to meet his so you could search for any hint of deception but you didn’t find any. He looked sincere and warm and much like the Mason you used to know.

‘I mean it’ he said softly. ‘I know I haven’t been the dad I should’ve been to Freddie, or the man I should have been for you either. I left when you needed me, you know? I disappeared when it got hard. And you? You stayed and you showed up everyday for Freddie and I just… I see that now’

There was a weight to his voice you hadn’t heard in a long time, maybe even ever. Thick and heavy with regret and you knew your eyes would spill over soon as this wasn’t something you were prepared for.

‘I do see you’ he whispered, his own eyes glistening as he thought over everything he’d done and everything he was apologising for and you felt your tummy drop at how sad he was. ‘I see all of it. Every late night, every feed, everytime you feel guilty for sticking Miss Racheal on for a few minutes just for some peace’ he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. ‘I’ve been so wrapped up in my own mess I didn’t see what you’ve been carrying. Or maybe I didn’t want to but I see it now, and I’m sorry I made you do it all alone’

You felt your chest ache, something old and bruised stirring awake inside of you but the emotion you felt the most was confusion. ‘Where’s this all coming from?’

He exhaled a shaky breath, eyes on the ground as he was clearly nervous but you needed to know what was going on and what this all meant. ‘These past few days, I’ve just been thinking a lot and for the first time in a long time, I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw. Not as a father and not as a man. And it scared the hell out of me’

You said nothing. You weren’t sure you trusted your voice and you knew he had more to say so you kept quiet and let him get out everything he needed to.

‘I want to do better’ he gulped. ‘I need to do better. For Freddie, for myself but also for you. Because whether we’re together or not, we’re in this together and I don't want you to feel like you’re alone anymore. Not with him, not with anything’

Your heart was pounding now, like it was trying to make a decision before you did and yet, Mason still carried on talking.

‘You’re the best mum that little boy could’ve asked for and I’ve taken that for granted. I’ve leaned on you without even realising it but I don’t want to just lean on you anymore. I want to stand next to you, I want to take my share, you know? I want to take care of him the way he deserves. The way you deserve’

Your eyes stung and even though you blinked fast to try and clear them it was no use. Hot tears streaming down your face as you fought to contain your sobs and even though your tears you saw him walk towards you.

‘Don’t cry’ he whispered gently, stopping just in front of you and placing a gentle hand on your arm. ‘C’mere’

He opened his arms and despite everything, despite the confusion, the hurt and the unfinished history, you let yourself step into them. Just for a moment as all you needed was some comfort but you stayed in his arms a beat longer than you meant to. When you finally pulled back, your throat felt tight but you knew you needed to speak.

‘Thank you, I really do appreciate everything you’ve said but I don’t know if I can trust it’ you said quietly. Your eyes not meeting his as you couldn’t handle the sad look that you knew would be evident on his face. ‘You’ve said things like this before, you know? Made promises to the both of us and then disappeared again. I’ve picked up the pieces so many times I stopped counting. So I just, I don’t know if I can believe it right now’

He nodded, no defensiveness in sight. Just quiet honesty.

‘I get that’ he murmured sadly before he was back looking at you. ‘I really do get it and you’re right. You’d be a fool to just trust me again after everything and I don’t expect that. I just need you to know this isn’t about getting back in your good books or winning you over. This is about being who I should’ve been all along’

He looked at you, really looked at you and you felt your walls crumble further as he carried on speaking. ‘You don’t owe me anything, yeah? Not forgiveness, not another chance but I owe you so much more than just words. I’ve got a lot of proving to do and I plan to show up every single day until I earn even a fraction of the faith you’ve already given me’

You folded your arms, not as a wall, but to hold yourself steady. ‘I’m just tired, Mase. I’m so tired of doing this alone’

‘I know’ he whispered, and for the first time it didn’t sound like pity, it sounded like understanding. ‘You shouldn’t have had to, that’s on me, but if you let me even just a little I want to take some of that weight from you. I want to start learning how to be there. Not just on weekends or when I feel like it but the hard mornings, the late nights and all the in-betweens’

You looked at him, really looked and something had shifted. He looked older. Not in years but in awareness and you wondered what the hell had happened this week to make him speak like this and finally see the light.

‘You’re saying the right things’ you nodded softly but you’d been burned too many times. ‘I guess I’m just scared they won’t stick’

He reached out slowly and cautiously, wrapping his pinky around yours and the touch of his skin on yours made you freeze. Your mind racing back to the beginning of your relationship when things were so different and you and Mason would make pinky promises all the time like it was your own inside joke. They seemed so trivial now as he would promise you that he’d pick you up a sweet treat on the way home or that he loved you more than you loved him but right now you were hanging on his every word and you thought about what he might say next.

‘I’m not asking you to believe me today, I’m asking you to watch. To give me the chance to be the man I should’ve been. For him, for you and for me too. Just please watch’

Silence fell for a second between you, full but no longer heavy and then from outside you heard Freddie’s laugh echo faintly through the door and the pair of you smiled at each other without meaning to.

‘Let’s go back in’ you suggested and with one final nod he dropped your hand.

‘Okay’ he replied, letting you turn to walk away but just as you did, you felt his voice run through you again. ‘One day, I hope you’ll believe how grateful I am for you’

You paused briefly, your back still to him and your heart thudding louder than it had any right to but you didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything but your fingers curled at your side. Holding onto something invisible, a flicker of warmth or maybe hope.

And then, with a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, you pushed open the door and stepped back out into the hallway. The hum of his family’s laughter pouring out of the open door opposite and wrapping around you like a reminder of where you were and the complicated place you still held in all of this.

Mason followed silently behind you closely, but not too close. Like he knew the gap between you wasn’t ready to be closed yet but he prayed one day it could be. You let him go through first, giving yourself a moment to relax and for him to greet his family but as soon as you stepped back through that door your eyes found his first and you knew something had shifted between you both.

[froggibus]

Roadtrip - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Baptiste, Lucio & Mauga

Genre: fluff, some crack lol

Summary: take a summer roadtrip with your favorite OW man

CW: irresponsible/reckless driving, cops (Cassidy's), drinking (not while driving I promise), Genji slander, camping, very fun summer vibes w this one

This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Cassidy:

definitely takes you through the midwest somewhere

insists on driving the whole way but its ok cause he has an insane sense of direction

like knows every road and shortcut like the back of his hand

tries to pretend like he doesn’t like your music but ends up singing along

loves stopping in old local diners

at least once the owner of a bar recognizes him and reminds him that he’s banned for life

and somehow he ends up talking the owner into letting you guys stay??

only drinks black coffee and pretends like he enjoys it

you forced him to try an overly sweet 6$ coffee one time and now he insists on stopping for one in every town

pretends to obey traffic laws but speeds whenever you’re on a backroad

a cop tries to pull him over and suddenly he turns into Max Verstappen and is offroading through a random field to lose them

“what the fuck is happening”

“I’m winnin’.”

you guys get takeout and eat it on the tailgate of his truck

stops at any bar that advertises live music 

will sing all the words all dorky to you and try to get you to dance with him

wants to stay on the road with you forever

Genji:

do not let this man drive he can’t drive for shit

wants to go somewhere neither of you have been before, but doesn’t really have a solid plan

matcha lattes at EVERY stop

you camp rather than stay in a hotel cause he never got to as a kid

like he’s never even tried a s’more or had a campfire before

chooses the most beautiful campsites ever with pretty beaches

neither of you can figure out how to set up the tent so you end up piling the blankets and pillows in your car and sleeping in the trunk

it’s surprisingly cozy though

also he totally winds up cuddling you for warmth

takes SO MANY pictures 

insists on using a paper map because he wants a more “authentic” feel 

results in you guys getting lost in the woods at least once

picks up handcrafted flavoured marshmallows at literally every gas station you stop at so he can make different kinds of s'mores

some of the flavours get wild too—like maple bacon or banana split

weirdly good at roadtrip games

brings his Switch or something so he can play Pokemon while you drive + names the ones he catches after the models of nearby cars

you end up staying on the trip way longer than intended because you guys have so much fun

Hanzo:

has a meticulously planned schedule of where you’ll visit and when

wants to take you through the Japanese countryside, maybe stop at a beach or two

very careful driver 

has a Nissan Versa that he babies and refuses to let you eat inside of (though if you bat your eyes at him enough, he’ll give in)

brings a polaroid camera so he can take pictures of all the beautiful sites

keeps the polaroids in a little folder tucked into the glovebox

refuses to get fast food and insists on stopping at cute local cafes

has packed for literally every possible occasion in only one tiny bag

you ask him to stop so you can buy something weird and obscure and he just so happens to have it

“I really wish I had Shrek 2 on DVD right now”

“check the glovebox”

???

has a soft spot for roadside fruit stands and had to stop at every single one to buy stuff 

the whole trunk is filled with fruit. there’s no escape

lets you play whatever music you like and will have your favourite songs memorized by the end of the trip

prefers experiences to souvenirs, but if you buy him a keychain or something he’ll treasure it forever

Baptiste:

annoyingly slow driver

everyone is passing you guys

has a pretty solid plan of where he wants to go but he’s open to feedback

has an immaculate sense for choosing the best local restaurants

always wants to try the most niche food combos he can find—like deep fried milk

needs to have his water bottle, an energy drink and a fun drink or else he can’t drive

wears sunscreen in the car and stops every few hours to reapply

cringes at your driving no matter how you drive and definitely gives you at least one (1) lecture about the dangers of speeding

loves tourist traps and wants to stop at every one you pass

insists on getting those dorky commemorative t-shirts from said tourist attractions so that the two of you can match

loves salt water taffy and looks for fun weird flavours wherever you find them

his entire centre console ends up being FULL of them by the end of the trip

he has the ac in the car on full blast to the point you’re shivering

not big on taking pictures but loves videos—he has about a thousand of the two of you trying new fun drinks and snacks

it’s been so long since he was able to be on the road without worrying about Talon—and he never wants to go back

Lucio:

nobody is more fun than him on a road trip

has a super fun car that he’s souped up and decorated to hell

the car has window tint so dark that you can’t see into it

does not obey traffic laws. you’re getting so many tickets, im sorry

buys those window markers so the two of you can draw on them when you’re bored

chooses the music and probably has a thirty hour long meticulously curated playlist

car singalongs all day

drinks so many energy drinks you’re surprised his heart still works

wants to stop in every single town to try their local specialties 

doesn’t really have a solid plan or anything, just wants to hit the road and see where you end up

wears increasingly goofy disguises when going out in public

“omg is that Lucio?”

“where?”

gets dragged into performing at least one impromptu concert somewhere

takes turns driving with you so the other can rest and reads out gossip articles about himself to entertain you

every hotel you stay in is a different gimmick and he goes crazy for it. the sillier the better

posts cute pictures of the two of you on his insta and is always taking candids

wants to make your roadtrip an annual thing

Mauga:

insists on taking his big ass Jeep that he refers to as “Little Betty” and refuses to let anyone else drive ‘her’ 

completely reckless driver too

drives with one hand on the wheel, music way too loud, the windows down even when you’re going like 110

he lets you pick the music as long as its upbeat 

constantly drinking some weird protein shake 

absolutely no plan of where he wants to go, just wants to hit up some nice beaches

has all of your stuff crammed in the back so high that you couldn’t possibly see out of the back window

drives in the sluttiest skimpiest tank top ever 

wants to try all the local cocktails and party in every town you stop in

gets drunk and becomes best friends with everyone he meets

needs to collect a Hawaiian print shirt in every place you stop in to commemorate the occasion

wants more than anything to teach you how to surf

he stops at every beach you pass and BEGS you to try it out

either wants to sleep in a five star hotel or on the beach with no shelter. there is no inbetween

takes one awkward blurry picture of the two of you throughout the entire trip and puts it in his wallet

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Could you write a Shoto x reader Christmas smut? Love your fics btw, you’re a great writer!🫶

Ohhhh heck yesss! Here you go, dear reader! ❤️

All Wrapped Up with a Bow 🎄❤️ | Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Being a Pro Hero is hard...especially when you and your boyfriend Shoto Todoroki's busy schedules often keep you apart. When Shoto asks to spend Christmas Eve together just the two of you, you decide to spice things up with some lacy lingerie. Note: This is an unedited fic :)

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, unprotected sex, light ass play, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, All characters are in their mid-twenties!

Shoto’s been working insane hours lately.

To be honest, you both have. Being heroes in your mid-twenties, it comes with the territory. You’re still new enough to the hero scene that you need to prove your worth by working extra hours, taking extra interviews and booking extra press events.

Extra. Extra. Extra.

If only you had “extra” time to spend with your beloved boyfriend Shoto Todoroki.

But unfortunately, your plate is too full and work/life balance is a distant dream. Maybe when you’re thirty. For now, it’s time to keep grinding and hope for the best.

Your relationship with Shoto is as strong as ever. You’re both steady, dependable people. You rarely quarrel. You both take the time to share updates on your schedules and workload. Your relationship is strong in every way except…you rarely get to see each other in person. And that means that the physical aspect of your relationship is nearly non-existent.

On the rare nights you both have off-duty, exhaustion seeps deep into your bones and prevents any romantic or “spontaneous” acts from commencing. Instead, the two of you order takeout and cuddle up with a movie until one of you nods off halfway through. Maybe you’ll exchange a quick shoulder rub, or use Shoto’s theragun on aching muscles before brushing your teeth and calling it a night. It’s not romantic or glamorous. But it works – having a supportive partner who understands the exact strain of your job is rare in this line of work. And that makes what you and Shoto have even more precious.

And so, you continue your non-routine routine. Go on missions, meet with the press. Text Shoto a cute photo of you volunteering at the local animal shelter in between patrols. Grab dinner and fall asleep at Shoto’s apartment once a week. Sign up for an extra night shift with your sidekicks. Get assigned a mission out of town and send Shoto a text apologizing for missing his birthday. Receive an encouraging call in reply extolling your many great attributes as a hero and as a partner. Refocus and get back to your hero work. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

That is, until Christmas Eve.

The end of the year approaches so quickly, you feel like you’ve been hit with a time warp quirk sending you speeding forward in time. Looking back, it’s been a great year for your career. But your social and dating life have been massively neglected.

You wake up the morning of Christmas Eve to a text from Shoto. You’re in your own apartment near the agency, getting ready to commute into work. You pause in putting on your hero costume so you can read the wall of texts coming through on your screen.

Shoto: Hey Y/N. I miss you.

Shoto: I feel like I haven’t been able to see you much lately and it’s starting to really upset me.

Shoto: I told my agency I’m taking off tonight so I can spend time with you. I’m going to shut off my phone.

Shoto: Can you get the night off last minute?

Shoto: It’s been so long since I’ve touched you

Shoto: See what you can do?

You pause. It’s so rare that Shoto asks for physical affection. You call your team and  rearrange your schedule so you can take off the entire day. Your sidekicks are more than eager to fill in for you and get a few more patrol hours under their belts. You click your phone closed and breathe out slowly – it’s been so long since you took a little time to chill. The hero world can wait. Your relationship with Shoto cannot.

Y/N: I took the night off! Want to spend the night at my apartment?

Shoto: Yes. Love you.

You stand up and stretch – no need to wear your hero costume anymore today. You strip it off and hang it back in its special case with care before dawning leggings and an oversized sweater. You think quickly through how you want to optimize the day – there are quite a few errands you’ve been putting off. You still need to get Christmas presents for a few friends and family members that you’ll see on the New Years Eve. Plus you should probably run out for groceries so you can surprise Shoto with a yummy home cooked meal…

The mall it is!

You grab your coat, apartment keys and purse and head out to the local shopping center to check everything off your list. You dash to the local train with exuberance – it’s been so long since you’ve had an unexpected day off. What a treat! Maybe you should stop and get a mani pedi at the local salon…it’s been quite a while since you’ve glammed up a bit. You start scouring Pinterest for the perfect holiday nail color.

By the time the train pulls into the station, you have 5 options screenshot and saved. You speed walk from the station to the shopping complex, grateful that everything you need can be found in one place.

You start at the nail salon. The staff is excited to see you – everyone waves excitedly and cheer as you pick your color. You know that you’re their only regular Pro Hero client (they have a poster of you in your uniform framed on the back wall as a reminder), most other Pro Heros employ private glam squads to take care of all of their beautifuication needs. You, however, would rather be treated like a normal person when possible. Plus, you love all the ladies who work at the salon and treat you like a friend.

Your favorite nail tech Lisa beckons you to a reclining chair and starts to fuss over you. She’s tall and in her mid fifties, with beautiful long hair swept into a plait down he back. She’s the mother hen of the salon and is up to date on everyone’s tea. Within minutes she’s cleaned up your cuticles and layered on the first coat of nail varnish.

“You still dating that Todoroki boy?” She asks, always keen for gossip. You love that she refers to Shoto as “that Todoroki boy” as if he’s just a normal guy from the neighborhood and not one of Japan’s top heroes. You giggle and nod.

“I’m surprising him with dinner tonight. We both took the night of to spend together.”

“Ohhh, how romantic! He seems like such a fine young man for you. What are you going to wear!?” She layers on topcoat as she gushes.

“I didn’t even think about my outfit yet – I only just decided to take the day off! Any suggestions?” You hold up your freshly manicured hand and the paint glints ruby red in the light.

“Well…” Lisa gives you a mischievous look before calling over her shoulder to one of the younger girls. “Dina – grab that Cosmo magazine from the break room?”

Dina, a woman closer to your own age, appears a moment later in a flurry of magazine pages. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, so I grabbed a few.”

“The December issue, dear.” Lisa holds out an expectant hand and Dina hands over the magazine. There’s a pouty-lipped model on the cover wrapped in nothing but Christmas bows. You don’t tend to focus too much on looks and beauty magazines (your hero work has been all encompassing for quite sometime), so you’re curious what Lisa is going to recommend.

Lisa used that dazzle dry top coat that makes your nails try extra fast, so you’re able to handle the magazine with ease when Lisa hands you the copy.

“Flip to page 35, dear.” She says as she starts to paint your toes to match.

You do as she says, and your jaw drops. The pages are covered in snapshots of lingerie.

“The key to that Todoroki boys heart?” Lisa says nonchalantly as she files your toes softly. “It’s a home cooked meal and one of those outfits.” She points with her nail file to the page. “Men can’t resist fancy underwear.”

You gape at the spread. You’re surprised at the wide variety of lacy thong and underwire bra sets that stare back at you. You’ve never worn something sexy like this for Shoto before…he’s never had a problem with your cotton Aerie underwear and comfortable sports bras. You wonder if he’s be into any of these strappy monstrosities.

“I don’t know Lisa…” You hold the magazine closer to your face to get a good look at a pair of crotchless panties that look like a collection of strings bound together with a small bow. “These don’t really scream ‘me.’ I don’t know if Shoto would be into this?”

“If you’re looking for something to make the night special, this could be a good option.” She says, layering down ruby paint on your big toes. “You can get something more subtle – look at the little Santa themed number at the top of page 36.”

“How many times have you looked at this that you know the pages by heart?” You ask her curiously.

“I have a photographic memory as part of my quirk.” She shrugs, finishing the first layer of red across your toes. “And yesterday was slow, I basically read this cover to cover twice.”

You look over at the outfit she’s recommending. It’s a tiny bit more subtle – a bra and panty set that’s supposed to emulate Santa’s Christmas suit. The bra is lacy with red bows and the panties have white trim with a tiny gold belt buckle on the waistband. It’s kind of cute, but still way sexier than any underwear you’ve ever owned.

“Just think about it.” Lisa says as she finishes up your toes with some topcoat. “They sell all of this in the lingerie store down the way. I promise you that if you buy a set of these, you are gonna get the best dicking of your life tonight.”

That does catch your attention. It would be really nice to have a good fuck with Shoto tonight. And that lingerie set would match your nails…

“Do you give sex tips to all your clients?” You raise an eyebrow at Lisa as you take a photo of the magazine spread with your phone camera. She smiles gamely and shrugs again.

“People come to my salon for advice of all kinds. It’s my job to know what they need to hear on any given day.” She winks as she cleans up her supplies, placing all of the little nail polish bottles and files on a small wheely cart.

“Well I’ll let you know if I end up going for it.” You say as Lisa leads you over to the nail drier for your feet.

“Please do, dear. I’m a sucker for a romantic story. Do tell me, though…how big is he?” She cackles and the rest of the staff look over curiously. Your face turns bright red as you realize what she’s asking.

“Big enough.” You say conspiratorially.

“So over 6 inches. That’s what I had my money on.”

And that’s how, an hour later, you end up in the fancy lingerie store. Everything is covered in holly and bells and bows and your eyes don’t know where to look. You’re instantly over stimulated, looking around desperately for a helpful sales associate. You try not to look at the price tags – you make great Pro Hero money now, but you’re still not used to splurging on silly things like underwear.

You wander the aisles, stopping at the holiday section. You warily eye a string bikini-esque number on an mannequin. It looks restrictive and uncomfortable, a bit like something a villain would use to restrain a civilian in peril. You shy away from the ensemble and continue browsing.

Finally, a perky salesgirl approaches you. “Hey there! Merry Christmas! How can I help you today?”

“Oh thank God.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m looking for something a little more…subtle.” You point vaguely at the strappy monstrosity to your left. “I have a big date tonight.”

The sales girl nods empathetically. “Let’s find something more your style!” She leads you up and down the aisles and points out a few pieces that are a bit more conservative for what she calls “beginner lingerie girlies.” It doesn’t take long for the two of you to pick out a few cute sets that are a bit lighter on the straps and lace.

“Now this one is sure to knock ‘em dead.” The salesgirl pulls out a ruby red bra and panties set that perfectly matches your nails. The bra is lacy but provides a good amount of coverage, with a few small bows and affixed to the straps and bra cups. The panties, you’re relieved to see, are not crotchless. They have a perfectly fine cotton gusset, thank goodness. The waistband is lacy and adorned with a few bows to match the bra, but it’s nothing crazy.

“This is honestly perfect. Just what I was looking for. You’re good.”

The girl smiles and laughs. “I’m a professional when it comes to the art of sexiness! Now let’s go have you try these on in the fitting room.”

It’s not long before you’re paying for the bright red set and the sales girl is packing it into a bag filled with glittery tissue paper.

“Good luck tonight!” She gives you a thumbs up as you put your wallet back in your purse and reach to loop the bag around your wrist. “Hold on…aren’t you a Pro Hero? Isn’t Shoto your boyfriend?”

“And that’s my queue to leave!” You sweep out of the shop before the girl can snap a picture of you lingerie shopping for your boyfriend. “Merry Christmas!”

You get home and deep clean your apartment, throwing your sheets into the wash and emptying the dishwasher for good measure. It’s been a while since you’ve made soba, so you pull up a few recipes on Pinterest and arrange all of the ingredients on the counter. Shoto will be thrilled, you can’t wait to see that bright starry look in his eyes when he realizes that he’s going to get to watch you busy in the kitchen. You see your cute checkered apron hanging on the back of the closet door and grab it in a sudden fit of inspiration. You’ll use it later.

After laying out all of the ingredients and tidying up the living room, you make your way to the bedroom where you layout your lingerie purchase. It’s cute, you decide. You like it a lot and you feel like it looks good on your muscular and scarred Pro Hero body. You’re a little bit jittery as you wonder at Shoto’s reaction. It’s been so long since you’ve felt sexy and fluttery like this – it reminds you of how you felt just out of school when Shoto asked you to dinner for the first time. It feels like that was forever ago…you’re so glad you still feel flirty and fun with Shoto a few years into your relationship.

You take your sheets and bedspread out of the drier and smooth it out onto your mattress, taking care to bat out any wrinkles and to fluff the pillows. You’re going to fuck Shoto senseless on this bed tonight, and you want it to be absolutely perfect.

You check your phone for the time and with a thrill realize that Shoto will be home to your apartment in less than a half hour. You quickly take off your clothes and grab the lingerie, ripping off the tags haphazardly and tossing them into your tiny wastebasket. You pull on the underwear and turn to look at yourself in your full length mirror. You’re pleased with how good you look – the bra makes your breasts look full and bouncy in a way that your Pro Hero costume simply does not. The panties are high waisted and cinch in your waist in a pleasing way, hugging your booty. Your ass looks down right smackable.

You finish the ensemble by tossing on your puffy checkered apron over the lingerie. You tie it in the back with a sweet little bow, pleased at how the skirt flares out and compliments your figure even more. From the front, you look fully clothed and as if you’re wearing a cute mini dress, the apron’s bib hiding your cleavage favorably. But from behind, you look sensual and illicit in your lacy, bowed underwear. You shiver a bit at the chill in your apartment – you don’t typically navigate your living space in nothing but underwear, and you make a mental note to turn up the heat before Shoto’s arrival.

You hurry back out to the kitchen to toss some slice and break crescent rolls into your little oven before Shoto arrives so that you’ll both have something to munch on as you prep the soba. Within ten minutes the dough has risen into beautiful golden brown rounds of bread on the cheap tiny pan. The oven has warmed up the apartment nicely and you don’t feel chilly anymore in your skimpy little outfit. You rest the hot pan on top of the oven and switch off the appliance. Shoto will arrive in any minute.

You dash back to your room to put the finishing touch on your outfit – throwing on what you affectionately call your “press event heels.” They are a pair of short patent leather kitten heels – a sleek and shiny black that compliments any outfit. You admire the full look in the mirror, pleased with yourself.

There’s a buzz at the door – Shoto!

You carefully sashay through your apartment, feeling hot and confident. You hit the button to buzz him up and smooth your apron-skirt as you wait. You hear his gentle footsteps down the hall, followed by his characteristic light knock on the door.

Demurely, you open the door.

Shoto walks in, already shedding his coat as he starts to speak about his day. “The agency was very busy today. I’m so glad I left when I did.” He turns to give you a kiss on the cheek and then catches a glimpse of your outfit. He steps back to admire the full look. His eyes bulge.

“This is…unexpected.” His jaw is slack and he stares at the way your long bare legs are exposed beneath the skirt of the apron. “Is this for me?”

You ignore him, biting back the Cheshire cat grin that threatens to give you away. “Sho, let me take your coat. I’ll hang it in the closet.”

He nods silently, still staring at your legs as he hands over his coat. You drape the jacket over the crook of your elbow and smooth out the wrinkles, tucking his bright red scarf into the coat sleeve for safekeeping.

This is your big moment. You take a deep breath and make a show of turning around so you can walk towards the closet.

You hear Shoto’s sharp intake of breath as he sees your backside. You can’t suppress your grin any longer as you make a show of swinging your hips the four steps it takes you to walk across the room. You let the jacket slip from your arm and onto the floor.

“Oh – oops!” You throw up your arms in surprise. “Let me pick that up…”

You slowly, sloooowly bend down to scoop up his jacket, giving Shoto a generous view of your lacy ass on the way down. You even wiggle it a little, letting your cheeks bounce with the movement. You grab the jacket and straighten back up.

“Now let me hang this up.” You open the closet and slip the jacket onto a hanger, glancing back over your shoulder with a dimpled smile to take in Shoto’s reaction.

He’s still standing in front of the door, absolutely dumbstruck. His jaw might as well be on the floor, and his eyes are bright in that special way they get when he’s horny.

“You like what you see?” You flash him a cheeky grin, slowly pressing your closet door shut. Before the door clicks into place, Shoto is striding towards you. In a rare show of aggression, he dips down and levels you, throwing you over his shoulder forcefully. You gasp in surprise as he hauls you towards your room, kicking your bedroom door open as he goes.

“Sho!” You cry out in shock, wiggling over his shoulder. He says nothing as he easily tosses you onto the bed, all Pro Hero muscles. You land with a soft thump on your tummy, bouncing a bit on the soft clean bedspread.

“Y/N.” Shoto says, his voice low and husky with want. You try to turn over but he places his hand lightly between your shoulder blades to hold you in place. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you right now.” There’s urgency in his voice you’ve never heard before – an edge. Your usual love making is fairly vanilla – all soft sighs and slow movements. Shoto likes to look at you while you fuck, likes to drink in your body with that intense gaze of his. This directness, this neediness – this is something new and thrilling for you. It zaps lightening bolts of arousal straight to your pussy in a way you never could have expected. You feel your brand new panties get damp at his tone alone.

“How do you want me, Sho?” You ask slyly, stopping your attempts to roll over to look at him. Instead, you slowly arch up your back and slide your knees forward to your chest so that your ass is tantalizingly up in the air.

“God. Just like that.” You can tell he’s struggling with his words right now as you shake your ass at him. He slips his thumb up the side of your bare leg and under the lacy material of your underwear where it covers your hip. He draws the fabric an inch or so into the air and then releases it so that it hits your skin with a light snap!

Fuck.

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” You call behind you, continuing to gyrate your hips in what you hope is a sensual way. You can just picture Shoto’s face right now –you bet he’s biting his lip the way he does when he wants you but he’s too polite to ask. He has far too many tells.

You feel his large hands grab the sides of your legs and slowly trace up up up over the sides of your thighs and ass, coming to rest on your hips. He lets his fingers get a good grip round the dip of your hips before he quickly pulls you backwards. You slide down the bed, letting out a small squeal of surprise and delight as you go. When he releases you, he has you bent over the edge of the bed, having guided your heel-clad feet to the ground. He uses his knee to spread your legs apart, keeping your ass on full display for him.

You never noticed how your bed is the perfect height for this. You shiver with delight as Shoto continues to run his fingers up and down your legs appreciatively. You hear the floor creak as he gets down on his knees behind you. You have no idea what he has in mind, but squeak in surprise as he brings a hand up to grab at the meat of your ass. He squeezes your right ass cheek experimentally, enjoying the way it jiggles. He then releases your skin, opting to smooth his thumb across the swell of your cheek gently. You feel yourself getting wetter with every caress and touch.

He lets his hands explore every hem and stitch of the lacy underwear. He starts at your butt – murmuring appreciatively as he pulls at the string-like thong that dips between your ass cheeks. He smooths his thumbs over the little bows sewed on at your hips, and traces light fingertips across the lace pattern at the elastic.

Once he’s had his fill with your backside, he slides his hand between your legs and gently caresses your pussy through your underwear. You let out a strangled moan as his index finger traces its familiar pattern over your leaking hole and up towards your clit. He plays with you for a bit through the thin, lacy fabric until you’re practically begging for him to strip you down and give you his cock.

“Sho…Sho please make love to me now. Sho I need you inside of me. I’m so wet and desperate and I need you to feel how much I love you. Shooo…” Usually this works – Shoto is a sucker for sweet talk and typically does anything you ask of him. But tonight, things are different.

“You’ll have my cock soon enough, sweet heart.” His voice is muffled as he presses a chaste kiss to your left ass cheek, pausing to nuzzle you with his nose. “Is this an early Christmas present for me?” He continues to play with your clit through the ruby red underwear. “You want me to unwrap you?”

“Yes. Yes – please Sho.” You groan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. At this point, your panties are soaked through and you know he can feel that. He drags his fingertips down from your clit and strokes gently up and down your slit through the panties. He’s teasing you, and you’re absolutely loving it.

In an unexpectedly swift motion, Shoto hooks his thumbs up under the lacy garment where it rests on your hips and he tugs it down, letting the panties rest down around your thighs.

“You’re so wet already.” He says in surprise, looking down at your practically ruined underwear. The entirety of the cotton gusset is dark with your arousal. You make a muffled noise into your bedspread as the cool air of the apartment hits your exposed pussy. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you soon – just hold on a little bit longer for me, okay?”

He grabs your cheeks and spreads them apart a bit, making you feel vulnerable but not in a bad way. You feel a finger explore your soaked pussy and you try to lean into the touch, but his caresses are so feather light you can’t get any good friction. He circles his finger lightly across your lips and up towards your core, gathering your slick on him like honey on a wand.

What happens next is something you never could have expected. He drags his wet dinger up, up, up and slowly begins to circle the pad of his finger against your asshole. He swirls it lightly so you can get every bit of sensation, gently so that you don’t buck up in surprise. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax into it. It’s alright, baby.” Shoto whispers reverently as he watches your body twitch with pleasure. This is not something you’ve ever done before. To be fair, it’s something you chatted about a few months ago when you discussed sexual interests and things you might want to try someday…but to be perfectly honest, playing with your ass is not something that Shoto has everexpressed interest in before.

And yet…he does it like a champ. Easing you in slowly, letting you explore the sensation of his finger pressing lightly against your tight hole. The unexpected pleasure makes your pussy clench and flutter and you let out a low moan of appreciation as he uses his other hand to press a finger inside your weeping cunt.

“How’s this, Y/N?” He lightly fingers you with his left hand while he continues to play with your ass with his right. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh yes Shoto...fuck. Fuck that feels amazing.” You choke out, hands gripping the bedspread desperately as he plays with you like he has all the time in the world.

“Just relax and enjoy it. For once, we have nowhere to be.” He says quietly. And you realize he’s absolutely right. This is the first time in a long time that the two of you aren’t on a tight schedule and can just…be.

“Fuck I love you Sho.” You say through gritted teeth as he presses a bit harder against the tight knot of your ass, sending sparks of pleasure deep into your body. Your cunt grips at his finger hungrily as he steadily pushes into you, letting you take whatever you need from him.

“This outfit is just…” Shoto can’t seem to find the words to describe what your lingerie set is doing to him. “The heels. The apron. The underwear.” He slides his finger out of your pussy and shifts away from you, you groan at the loss of contact. However, your disappointed grunt becomes a moan of pleasure as Shoto presses his face into you so he can lap at your pussy.

His tongue is magic as it presses into you, his hands coming to rest on your cheeks for leverage. He laps up your delicious taste, swirling his tongue around in a delightfully irregular pattern. It feels forceful and intentional in the best of ways, but you feel like he’s trying to do something specific.

“Shoto!” You gasp out, backing that ass up into his face and trying to grind into his tongue. “W-what are you – ah! – trying to do?”

After a moment, Shoto comes up for air. “I’m spelling my name with my tongue. Denki told me people find it hot.”

Okay, that is so unexpected but also…yeah! It’s weirdly hot! You want him to keep going.

“Fucking claim me, Shoto Todoroki. Write your name in my pussy with your fucking tongue.”

Shoto doesn’t move for a moment, you wonder if he’s considering your words. “You’re on the naughty list this year, aren’t you? I never realized what a dirty mouth you have.” Shoto says this in his typical flat tone, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah I’ve been pretty naughty, haven’t I?” You’re gonna dirty talk this bitch into fucking you. “Did I mention that I bought this outfit on your credit card? I might need someone to…” you wave your ass in the air, not caring that your slick is dripping down your thighs and that your underwear is still stretched between your legs like a hammock beneath your pussy. “…punish me.”

This sends Shoto over the edge. You hear the floor creak again beneath him as he moves to get to his feet. You grin stupidly into the bedspread as you hear his buckle come undone and his pants drop to the floor. He steps forward, slotting your legs between his own. Dress shoes framing your patent leather kitten heels.

A moment later, you feel the head of his thick, hard cock pressing against you. You mewl in satisfaction when he takes a moment to rub his hardness against your clit the way you like. It’s taken a lot of communication over the years, but Shoto now knows that you like to build anticipation up a little before you do the deed. He plays with your pussy for a moment before sliding his cock down along your lips and lining up with your entrance. His hands shift to grip your hips tightly.

“Let’s get you back on the nice list.” He says as he slowly pushes his cockhead into your throbbing pussy. The soft stretch around his cock is delightful and you cry out as he pushes inch after inch into your hungry pussy. A dicking down indeed.

It’s rare that you don’t use a condom – birth control made you feel like shit so you weren’t on the pill, and Shoto was typically such a gentleman and had assumed all contraceptive duties. He has your bedside drawer stocked with all varieties of condoms and spermicide. But tonight…well, tonight is something special because Shoto is sliding into you raw and unprotected.

The feeling of his bare skin is too much for you to handle and your legs start shaking before he even bottoms out inside of you. He must notice that you’re already close to falling over the edge, because he takes it extra slow. He sets a cruelly slow pace, sliding in and out of you so that he can feel every tremor of your pussy around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I wanted to make this night special, but I never imagined…” He thrusts into you with a little more force this time. “I never could have dreamed up this outfit of yours.” He picks up speed, a wet smacking noise fills the room as he fucks into you.

“I wanted to look – oh! – good for my favorite guy.” You practically purr. “Smack my ass?” You’re rewarded with a swift slap to your right cheek. You cry out in pleasure and your pussy throbs around Shoto’s cock. You feel him shudder in reply.

Shoto is usually one for slow missionary (or cowgirl if he’s feeling frisky). So being taken from behind is a novelty for you. You decide to throw it back, meeting every thrust with a bounce. Shoto grips your hips a little harder when he realizes what you’re doing, and you’re sure you’ll have finger print shaped bruises ingrained in your skin when you wake up in the morning.

“Y/N.” Shoto gasps out from behind you, definitely close to coming undone. “Y/N I love you...” He thrusts into you, hard. “So.” Thrust. “God.” Thrust. “Damn. “ Thrust. Thrust. “Much.”

“Fuck. Shoto – I’m gonna cum.” You cry out. It’s all too much for you – he’s just too damn hot and this position feels so fucking good and you think that doggy style might be forevermore your favorite sex position. At your words, Shoto starts to go deep. You feel yourself fluttering around him, desperate.

“Sweetheart. Cum around my cock?” Shoto’s voice is deep, near an octave lower than his usual voice as he groans at the feel of you around him. You can’t resist the way he talks to you. You fall over the edge moments later, your pussy throbbing and pulling at his cock as you ride out your high.

“Sho!” You cry out, creaming around his cock like some sort of porn star, throwing your ass back as you let him fuck you through it.

“Ah – fuck! Y/N. You feel so good, I can’t…” Shoto scrambles to pull out of you before he cums. Honestly, you’re surprised he makes it out alive. He hear the gentle smack of him jerking at his dick a few times before you feel his warm cum splatter across your back and ass, painting you with his pleasure. He finishes himself off before dropping onto the mattress next to you, breathing hard.

You lay in silence for a moment – you on your stomach and he on his back. You both take a moment to catch your breath.

“That was…” Shoto finally breaks the silence, unable to come up with the right words to describe the scene that just transpired.

“Yeah.” You say, laughter bubbling up inside of you. “Sho, where did that animosity come from? You’ve never picked me up like that before. And then you played with my ass? Were you planning that!?”

Shoto turns to look at you, his usually stoic face cracking into a smile. You turn to look back at him, noting that he looks a little silly wearing a dress shirt with nothing on from the waist down.

“You’re rocking a pooh bear look, by the way.” You add, pointing at his current outfit situation. He laughs at you and sits up.

“It’s just been so long since we’ve made love. And something about this outfit of yours just…” Shoto shrugs; getting to his feet and walking to the drawer he knows contains clean towels. He grabs a thick grey washcloth and returns to the bed so he can smooth it across your back and ass, cleaning up his thick ropes of cum. “I’ve been wanting to explore more with you for a while. It felt like a good time to try something new.”

“I liked seeing that side of you.” You hum appreciatively as he lifts your left leg and carefully removes your foot from the kitten heel. You didn’t realize how sore fucking in heels can make someone. He helps you to remove the other shoe so you can shift into a more comfortable position on the bed. “So you like lingerie, I take it?”

Shoto smiles as he pulls back on his boxers. “It seems that I do.”

You flop back on the bed, watching him unbutton his dress shirt. He’s so beautiful like this – his Pro Hero abs peak out from under his shirt delectably. You want to worship this man and his beautiful body. You want to press kisses to each curve of muscle until he fully understands just how much you adore him.

 He walks back to your dresser and pulls open his designated drawer so he can grab one of his favorite old All Might shirts.

“And you haven’t even seen the bra yet.”

His eyes widen comically in response. “…there’s more?”

You reach behind you and undo the bow at your back before slipping the apron up and over your head. You toss it to the floor. Shoto drops his All Might shirt to the ground in surprise.

He stares at you, awestruck, as you sit atop your bed in nothing but a lacy red bra. Your pussy is fully out and you’re sweaty with messed up hair, and he’s looking at you like you’re a goddess that’s just descended from the heavens. You can’t help but laugh at the dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Alright, so I think we’ve found a new kink for you, Sho. Good thing the local lingerie store has plenty of options for us to try.”

Shoto tries to shake his head to clear it, but fails miserably. He just keeps staring at you with that intense gaze of his. “Okay. Yes. This is something that I definitely like.” He bites his lip the way he does when he’s turned on, and you know in your bones that round 2 will be even more mind blowing than round 1. You start to spread your legs apart to invite him back to bed, but then your stomach growls loudly. You think longingly of the hot crescent rolls waiting in the kitchen on the stove.

“Babe…I have an idea.” You say, motioning for him to pick up his t-shirt from where it lays in a sad heap on the ground. “Let’s make dinner first, then we can come back here and explore this new kink of yours.”

Shoto’s face perks up at the mention of food. You bet he hasn’t eaten since lunch a the agency – he’s likely starving too.

“We’re going to cook dinner?” He asks, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice. Takeout is usually the go-to for you both.

“Correction – I’m going to cook dinner. In my new lacy lingerie. And you’re going to watch.” You smile widely as he blushes. You can see the wheels turning in his head – he’s loving this idea. You’re tired and spent but you already can’t wait to be back underneath him with that wonderdick inside of you.

He nods enthusiastically, his own smile wide and bright. He reaches down to grab the tee and pulls it on in a single swift motion. You follow his lead and scamper to your dresser to grab a pair of clean panties. You find a nice plain pair that’s a shade of red off from your bra, but it will have to do. You step into the clean underwear and pull it on snuggly.

You grab Shoto’s hand to drag him to the kitchen.

“What are you making?” He asks eagerly, eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as he follows behind you.

“Your favorite – cold soba.” You smile over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the stove.

“You are the love of my life and this is officially the best Christmas Eve ever.” Shoto says, grabbing your face so he can kiss you soundly. You lean into the kiss, happy to have a rare evening off with Sho. He presses another kiss to your mouth. "It's like you're all wrapped up in a bow just for me tonight."

"Only for you, babe." You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Shoto."

The End. ❤️

---------------------------------------------

Okayyyy I hope you liked this holiday one shot! I churned this out and didn't get a chance to edit, so I hope it's alright despite not being my cleanest work! I purposefully didn't put in a lot of dialogue because I think that Shoto is more of an "actions speak louder than words" kind of person in the bedroom. He has slowly learned to add dirty talk into the mix because the Reader has asked him to over the years, but honestly he still doesn't talk that much during sex. I personally love a man who will talk you through it, but that's just not our Sho!

Alright...back into my cave so I can work on Shoto's First Kiss Part 8!

Happy Holidays, all!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Here's my Master List! 🔥

[pastryfication]

the one i’ve been missing

pairing: ollie bearman x reader

part two of my advent celebration

the name ollie bearman had in the last year become a household name. from the moment he crossed the finish line in saudi arabia, he went from an almost unknown 18 year old, to everyone even remotely interested in formula 1 knowing his name.

it was a huge change in his life, a very overwhelming change, and even more so because you weren’t there most of the time.

schoolwork had consumed you more than ever and his new role with ferrari had consumed him, leaving you with almost no time together, and it had led to a long distance experience you wouldn’t recommend anyone.

last year, he had been able to come home and spend time with you in every break between the races, so you only had to go without him for 14 weekends throughout the year. his schedule this year, however, had been very different.

it was december 7th, just over two weeks until christmas, and the world outside your dorm room was buzzing with holiday cheer. you, however, sat at your desk, hunched over an essay you had no motivation to finish. snow dusted the ground outside, and fairy lights glimmered in every window. students walked by in pairs, laughing and carrying steaming cups of hot chocolate, but none of it lifted your spirits.

you picked up your phone and stared at the last message from Ollie, sent late last night:

ollie: long day. miss you.

you’d replied with a simple, i miss you too, but the conversation had fizzled after that, as it often did. he was busy, exhausted from back-to-back commitments with haas and ferrari, and you understood that. but understanding didn’t make it any easier.

your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts.

ollie: you free right now?

you frowned. it wasn’t like him to text in the middle of the day—his schedule rarely allowed for it.

yeah, what’s up?

his reply came almost immediately. can you come downstairs?

you blinked, your heart skipping a beat. why?

the next reply was even faster. just come. please.

confused, you stood up, grabbed your coat, and slipped into your boots. your dorm wasn’t particularly big, and it only took a minute to reach the front entrance. when you pushed open the door, the cold december air hit you like a wave.

and then you saw him.

ollie stood near the steps, his signature grin lighting up his face despite the red flush on his cheeks from the cold. he was bundled in a thick jacket, his ferrari-issued duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and his hair was a mess of curls barely tamed by his beanie.

“surprise,” he said, holding his arms out.

you froze, staring at him in disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

“coming to see you,” he said simply, his smile widening. “i realized it’s been months since we spent more than a couple of hours together, and i couldn’t wait any longer. so, i convinced the team to give me time off a bit earlier than usual.”

“you flew here? just for me?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

“of course i did,” he said, taking a step closer. “you’re worth it.”

that was all it took for you to close the gap between you. you threw your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in until there was no space between you.

“you’re insane,” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice thick with emotion.

“maybe,” he replied with a soft laugh before his expression turned more serious. “i know i’ve been gone for way too long . . . i’m so so sorry i haven’t been around. but you’ve been on my mind constantly. i’ve missed you. so much.”

you pulled back to look at him, your hands cupping his face. his cheeks were cold under your palms, but his eyes were warm, full of affection that made your chest ache.

“i missed you too,” you said quietly.

he smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “good. now, what’s the plan? christmas market? hot chocolate? anything you want—i’m all yours.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in weeks. “anything?”

“anything.” he promised.

✦ ✦ ✦

back in your dorm, the small space was suddenly filled with the warmth of his presence. ollie helped unpack the tiny box of decorations you’d picked up at the dollar store, carefully untangling the string of fairy lights and teasing you about the chipped ornaments.

“you weren’t kidding when you said this was low-budget,” he quipped, holding up a snowman missing one eye.

you threw a piece of tinsel at him. “not all of us have formula 1 money, you know.”

he laughed, reaching to hook the snowman onto the tree anyway. “i like it. it’s cute. it’s very . . . you.”

“are you calling me low-budget?”

“not at all,” he said, quick to defend himself with a grin, leaning against the tree to watch you hang the last of the baubles. “i’m saying it’s perfect, just like you.”

your cheeks warmed as you stepped back to admire the tree. it wasn’t much—barely three feet tall and slightly lopsided—but with ollie standing beside it, his arm slung casually around your shoulder, it felt magical.

“wait,” he said suddenly, digging into the box. “what’s this?”

you turned to see him holding a tiny sprig of mistletoe wrapped in a thick red ribbon, his grin widening mischievously.

“that,” you said, crossing your arms, “was supposed to go on the wall.”

“well,” he said, holding it above his head, “i think it works just fine right here.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips as he stepped closer, his free hand resting on your waist.

“it’s tradition,” he said softly, tilting his head.

“you’re impossible,” you murmured, but you leaned in anyway, your smile melting into his as his lips brushed yours.

the kiss was soft, warm, and lingering, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to fade away.

when you finally pulled back, ollie rested his forehead against yours, still holding the mistletoe above you.

“merry early christmas,” he whispered.

you smiled, your hands resting on his chest. “merry early christmas, ollie.”

[kitkat13001]

hi kitty kikat!! congrats on quadruple digits 🫶🫶 ur brain is the biggest with this pause game!! could i get a rom con with celebrity (me) x ceo (shinsou)

song: iris by the goo goo dolls (actually in love this song)

ending: we elope

★ GLASS HOUSE

🎞️ STARRING: hitoshi shinsou ! when everything’s made to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…

“you’re…different than i thought you’d be.”

all that you’ve heard about hitoshi shinsou is that he’s a good businessman

too good, actually. for someone to rise to such success at such a young age? rumors of his merciless work ethic precede him

this is what makes you nervous for your next job — as the face of his new marketing campaign 

everything you’ve ever heard about shinsou is swirling through your head during your first meeting, you’re practically sweating just sitting across from him 

you’re surprised to find that he’s actually quite down-to-earth. he consults you for your ideas on how to handle the campaign, insisting he’d rather follow your lead to avoid exploiting your reputation or making you uncomfortable 

what surprises you even more is that offers to take you out to dinner

“do you do this with all your clients?” “oh, sure. business dinners are a custom, but i only take my favorite clients here. this is my secret spot, y’know?” “well, i’m flattered you think so.” “well, you know what they say. the best way to a client’s heart is through their stomach.” he winks at you and you think you might pass out. “so! what are we having?” 

as the campaign takes off, you find yourselves going out for regular lunch dates and spending late nights in the office and going for morning coffee runs 

the marketing campaign is an absolute success! hitoshi’s company was already incredibly successful before, but it’s become a household name with your influence

“i really can’t thank you enough.”

“you could…take me on an official date?” 

you’re sad when the end of the campaign comes around, but hitoshi assured you you’ll still be seeing plenty of each other

he makes visits to your job and still takes you out to lunch when his schedule allows

it happens when you’re on a business trip with him. you’ve been dating a few years now and he likes to bring you along to travel conferences for a little vacation. this time around it’s in a popular (and romantic) city, so he figured you two could use a getaway

he asks you to marry him after you get back to the hotel after dinner. you’re ecstatic, beaming when you tell him yes, of course! 

you both decide on a whim to elope that same weekend in order to avoid the insanity a public celebrity wedding would bring 

it’s a quiet ceremony, just you and hitoshi and maybe some friends and family, on the cliffs overlooking the beach. private, beautiful, and heartfelt (if the adoring look in hitoshi’s eyes when he says “i do” is any indication). it’s perfect.

© kitkat13001 ★ do not copy/translate/repost dividers; sxmmerberries — event info + masterlist

thank you lysa baby!! i had fun with this one, hope you enjoy!!

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Stay

Author's Note: My period started, I had some feelings, wrote some established relationship fluff/smut; enjoy!

Content Warnings: Rhys uses his daemati powers for a quickie (because he absolutely WOULD and you cannot change my mind on that)

------

It was a mistake to go back to work this soon. My whole body aches, the newly accepted mating bond pulling on my bones like it’s a living thing crawling around beneath my skin. I can’t escape the searing heat of it, not even with the office windows thrown open, the dark lace curtains billowing in the soft autumn breeze. I should be cold enough to wear the sweater I’d stolen off the armchair this morning, but it sits draped over my desk chair instead. 

Rhys had been called back to the Hewn City two weeks before we were scheduled to return from our retreat. Or as he was so affectionately calling it “The Mating Bond Sex Romp of the Century”. We were supposed to have a whole month to ease into newly mated bliss; the extra time was supposed to help with the chafing and general irritation that would come when we inevitably had to separate and return to civilization. And of course Keir had gone and fucked that up for us. We’d flown in last night, and Rhys was gone before dawn this morning. The empty Townhouse was going to drive me insane and training with Cass and Az would have driven Rhys insane, so my only solution was to come into work and handle two weeks worth of paperwork. There’s certainly enough to keep me occupied for the day, except I can’t think straight! The words in front of me blur, the meaning of them nonsensical. I shouldn’t be here! I should be tangled up with my mate; the only thought in my head should be how much deeper I can take him. 

I lean back in my chair, palms pressing into my eyes with a groan of frustration. Stupid fucking Kier! The only sounds I should be hearing right now are my mate’s as I run my lips over his chest, tracing tattoo and muscle and that dark little patch of hair that leads me down…

“Well isn’t this a pretty little thought to walk into.” Even his mental voice is enough to make the bond shiver in delight and I throw down my shields with abandon to let him in further.

“Come here and I’ll make it more than a thought,” I return. We are beyond pretense and formality now. I want-need-him. My body feels like it might burst into flame if his hands are not roving every inch of my skin. I knew the bond would be intense, but not to this degree. I could live or die with just his touch alone.

Night chilled shadows swirl around our shared mental ground like a cat brushing up against its owner. The gesture alone makes me slump down into the seat and sigh. “All worked up, aren’t we?” He purrs, but his voice is strained. 

“I’ll rip Keir’s throat out for this. We were supposed to have more time.” I snarl.

The longer my shields are down, the better my mental view of him becomes, until it looks as if the two of us are standing on an adamant bridge, surrounded by endless starlight. Like this he has free reign to all of me, mind and soul; a brush of his fingers and he can walk into any memory he wants, a flick of his wrist and he can take complete control of my body and I’d be powerless to stop him. We are equals and he makes sure I never forget it, but like this, when there is no damper on his power, when he doesn’t have to hide behind a courtly mask, all his power untampered and wild--there are few things I love more. I love him like this. I love being able to surrender to the power of him, yield my own and let him take control so that I do not have to think beyond the pleasure he’s capable of ringing out of my body.

He reaches out and brushes his fingers over my cheek and I could scream under the heat that flares through my physical body. It’s not quite the touch I want, but it’s enough to make my blood sing.

“I know, love, and I’m sorry.”

I turn my head and press my lips into his palm, catching his wrist so I can keep him right where I need him. “Please,” I whisper, because even here in this space I can’t shake the desperation that claws its way up my throat. “Just for a few minutes. I need you.”

A growl sounds in the back of his throat as he leans in and crashes his lips against mine. It’s a flurry of tongue and teeth, his free hand threading into my hair and I drop his wrist in favor of tossing an arm around his neck. There are too many clothes between us, even here, and I claw unabashedly at his shirt until he gets the hint and magics it away.

There is no feeling like the warmth of his skin against mine. Only when we’re chest to chest, my own top disappearing, does the fire in my veins finally turn from painful to pleasurable. I am warm everywhere he touches, no longer consumed by this insistent ache. I sigh contentedly as I nip at his lower lip.

“Better?” He asks as he slides an arm beneath my ass and lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. My back hits the handrails of our shared mental bridge, the cold stone biting into my flushed skin. 

“A little,” I say as I press soft kisses along his mouth and chin.

He rocks his hips against my still clothed center, the friction so heady it makes me toss my head back and moan, giving him the perfect access to nip and suck at my throat. “I only have a couple minutes, we’ll have to make this quick.”

I don’t want quick. I want that slow rhythm we’d found that first night in the cabin, his hips slowly rocking into mine, his cock dragging through my dripping folds, my nails clawing at his shoulders as he drew moan after moan out of me, until I had begged him to finish inside me. I want the lazy roll of his hips as he holds me against the mattress, taking his time, teasingly nipping at my throat as he tells me how pretty I look around his cock, as he drags out every stroke and thrust until there is not a single thought in my head but him. But the burning beneath my skin is returning, and I can feel the pull of his duties in the back of his mind as if it’s calling to me instead. This is all the time we have right now, I will have to take it.

The rest of our clothes disappear in a rush and he slides right into me, all the way down to the hilt and I let myself scream into the endless darkness of our bond. 

He presses his nose into my neck, where it meets my shoulder as he lets me adjust. Not that I truly need to here, but the gentleness of the motion, how concerned he always is for my well being, makes me want him even more. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.”

I pull him in for another searing kiss, my hands tangling in the silky strands of his hair. “Make it up to me a couple times?”

He slides almost completely out of me before thrusting back in, stealing the air from my lungs in a rush. “As many as you’d like, Darling.”

With the way I feel right now, I don’t think any amount will truly satiate me. I think I may just need him like this for the rest of my immortal existence. 

Pleasure licks up my spine as he speeds up his movements, the stones at my back biting into my skin, keeping me grounded for a few seconds longer. His hands squeeze at my ass, kneading my tender flesh as the motion spreads me open a little more for him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses into my neck. The stars overhead spin and swirl like a glittering storm, darkness leaking off his shoulders as his wings threaten to appear. I rock my hips into his, matching his pace with a swirling motion I know drives him crazy. “Maybe I really should just kill Kier.”

The sound that comes out of me as he hits a spot inside me that makes the bridge shake as my mental grip on the psychic plain slips is more moan than laugh.

“Then I could fly right home and take you like this against every surface in the house.”

I clench so tight around him at the thought that he growls and sinks his teeth into my shoulder in retaliation and I let my head fall back further to grant him more access to me. I want his mark everywhere, to the point no collar of the sweaters I’ve stolen from him can hide them. 

“If you’re asking my permission,” I bite out through a gasp as his fingers slide between my legs, teasing at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to that glorious edge. “You have it.”

His thrusts grow sloppy as his speed increases, his own release barreling towards him as I slide a hand out of his hair and down between the valley of his shoulders. I’ll leave my own marks tonight, so everyone knows he is as much mine as I am his. If his wings were to make an appearance, then this would be where I would trace the thin membrane until I find that spot that drives him crazy. But he’d never bring them out for a quickie, they are too sacred for that. I will settle for his shoulders for now.

My chest brushes his as I gasp for breath, so close to the edge I can feel it in every nerve ending in my body. The bond between us glows warm and bright, filling up every bit of me as he hits that sweet little spot inside me. My eyes screw shut, thigh muscles tightening around his hips as he hits it again and again and again.

“Love you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Love you so much.”

One last thrust and I’m gone, his own release chasing mine as I whimper out his name. 

From somewhere outside of us I hear a male voice call his name, demanding to know if he’s listening. 

Rhys grumbles nonsensically into my neck as he holds me for a moment, my body trembling as it comes down from its high. This is the first time all day I feel like I can breathe and I cling to his shoulders for a moment, begging for more time.

“Better, love?”

I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “If I say no, will you stay?”

From somewhere outside of me I hear a knock, probably the company’s billing department wanting those expense reports I was attempting to work on earlier. Seems the real world needs things from both of us, regardless of our wishes.

My heart sinks in my chest as I slowly unwind my legs from my mate’s waist and touch solid ground. He is High Lord and despite his protests, I hadn’t been ready to let go of my job, even with a title of my own to deal with, this was territory we would have to deal with eventually, even if we’d had the month we were supposed to.

I stretch up on my toes to kiss him again, gently this time, but there is no less fervor in his response than before. Perhaps that pulling beneath my skin was not just my own need, but his, calling to me from across Velaris. 

“I love you,” I say as that knock rattles the bridge, our mental grip slipping as reality beckons, louder and louder. “I can grab dinner on my way home.”

He steals another kiss like it’s his last meal. “As long as I still get you for dessert.”

And then he’s gone, nothing more than a star flecked shadow curled in the corner of my mind as reality comes crashing back in for both of us. 

I try not to fidget at the uncomfortable wetness between my legs as I straighten the papers on my desk and tell the incessant knocker to come in. I won’t be doing anyone any favors if I start dishing out the same judgment my mate is on Kier here in the office. 

“You got those papers for me?”

I leaf through the stack on the desk, using a bit of magic to hide the glaring scent of my arousal. I just have to make it a couple more hours. Then, Rhys is all mine, and I’ll have to find some creative ways to keep him in our bed until the bond finally settles.

If it ever settles.

[empressdede]

The Secretary - 8

Chapter Eight

Previous

The next morning, Serena stepped into WWE Headquarters with her usual air of professionalism—but underneath it all, she was nervous as hell.

Last night had felt too good. Too easy. Too natural.

But now, in the harsh light of day, she had to remember who she was in this building: Serena Westbrook, Executive Secretary to the Tribal Chief. Not his almost-lover. Not the woman he kissed in a locked room. She had worked too hard for her reputation to let herself get caught up in something she wasn’t even sure could last.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her blazer and walked toward her office, determined to keep things professional.

But the second she stepped inside, she froze.

Roman was already there.

He was leaning against her desk, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with an expression that was way too unreadable for this early in the morning.

“Morning,” he greeted smoothly.

Serena blinked, gripping the strap of her bag. “Uh… morning.”

Roman’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smirk. “You nervous?”

Serena scoffed, stepping forward and setting her bag down. “Please. I don’t get nervous.”

Roman let out a quiet chuckle. “Right.”

Serena ignored him, booting up her computer and reaching for her planner. “What’s on your schedule today?”

Roman didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushed off the desk and walked closer—so close that she could smell his damn cologne.

“I missed you this morning,” he said casually.

Serena’s breath caught.

She closed her eyes for a second, mentally cursing him and herself for how easily he could shake her.

“Roman,” she warned, keeping her voice even. “We’re at work.”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning just slightly over her shoulder. “I’m behaving, aren’t I?”

Serena clenched her jaw, gripping her pen a little too tightly. “You’re testing me.”

Roman smirked. “A little.”

Serena inhaled through her nose, flipping open her planner with more force than necessary. “You have a production meeting at eleven, a sponsorship call at two, and—”

“You look good today,” he interrupted.

Serena froze.

She turned slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Do you want to get me fired?”

Roman just smiled, looking entirely too relaxed. “I’m just making an observation.”

Serena glared at him. “Go to your office, sir.”

Roman chuckled, but finally took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.”

“Damn right you will,” she muttered, flipping through her notes.

Roman smirked on his way to the door. “See you at eleven, Miss Westbrook.”

Serena didn’t even look up. “Goodbye, Mr. Reigns.”

The second the door closed behind him, she let out a deep breath, pressing a hand to her forehead.

This man was going to drive her insane.

And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she even minded.

_

The rest of the morning went by without any major incidents—unless Serena counted the few times Roman caught her looking at him during the production meeting.

Which, to be fair, she wasn’t staring.

She was doing her job. Taking notes. Staying focused.

But Roman, being the absolute menace that he was, would occasionally glance over at her, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

And when the meeting ended, as everyone got up to leave, he had the audacity to lean in and murmur, “You sure you don’t wanna sit in on my next meeting? I like having you close.”

Serena had given him a perfectly professional, totally not panicked glare before shoving her notepad into her arms and walking straight out of the room without responding.

She wasn’t about to let him play games with her in front of everyone.

Now, back at her desk, she was doing her best to focus on emails when Naomi popped her head in, a knowing grin already on her face.

Serena groaned. “Nope. Whatever you’re about to say, nope.”

Naomi stepped all the way inside, closing the door behind her. “Girl, I saw you two in that meeting.”

Serena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There was nothing to see.”

Naomi scoffed. “Mmm-hmm. That’s why Roman was lookin’ at you like you were the only person in that room?”

Serena groaned again, dropping her head to her desk. “Kill me.”

Naomi laughed, sitting on the edge of the desk. “No can do. I’m too invested in this.”

Serena lifted her head. “There is no ‘this.’ We talked. We… handled things.”

Naomi raised a brow. “And by ‘handled things,’ you mean you finally admitted your feelings and kissed?”

Serena’s face burned. “Naomi.”

Naomi just grinned. “It’s about damn time. But what now?”

Serena sighed, staring down at her desk. “I don’t know. We agreed to take things slow. Keep it professional.”

Naomi folded her arms. “And how’s that workin’ out for you?”

Serena groaned. “It’s not.”

Naomi laughed again, shaking her head. “Girl, just let yourself have this. Roman ain’t out here playing. You see the way he looks at you?”

Serena bit her lip. She did.

And that was the problem.

She felt everything.

Naomi gave her a pointed look. “If you want this to work, you gotta stop running.”

Serena exhaled slowly. “I know.”

Naomi smirked, standing up. “Good. Now, I gotta go collect another bet from Jey, ‘cause I knew you’d try to act professional today and fail.”

Serena gaped at her. “You bet again?!”

Naomi winked. “Baby, I always bet on love.”

With that, she strutted out, leaving Serena sitting there, torn between wanting to scream and maybe admit that Naomi was right.

Maybe she was running. And maybe… it was time to stop.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roman leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he listened to Jimmy run his mouth for the last five minutes.

“You just gonna let her run circles around you all day?” Jimmy asked, shaking his head. “Come on, Uce. You’re Roman Reigns. Since when do you just wait around?”

Roman smirked. “I told her I’d take things slow.”

Jimmy scoffed. “Slow don’t mean you let her pretend she ain’t feelin’ this.” He leaned forward. “She’s been dodging you all day, hasn’t she?”

Roman sighed. “More like trying really hard to keep it professional.”

Jimmy snorted. “And how’s that goin’?”

Roman chuckled, shaking his head. “Not great.”

“Exactly. So do her a favor—pull her aside and give her exactly what she’s been running from all day.”

Roman raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

Jimmy grinned. “Give her a kiss. A kiss never hurt nobody.”

Roman smirked. “You just want more money off these bets, don’t you?”

Jimmy held up his hands. “Hey, I ain’t gonna lie, I do love gettin’ paid.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “You and Naomi are a damn mess.”

Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, yeah. But am I wrong?”

Roman exhaled through his nose. “No.”

Jimmy clapped his hands together. “Aight then. Handle that, Tribal Chief.”

Roman didn’t say anything, just pushed back his chair and stood up.

He already knew exactly where Serena was.

And it was time to make sure she knew she didn’t have to run anymore.

Serena was standing by the conference room window, going over her notes for Roman’s next meeting, when she heard the door click shut behind her.

She turned, already knowing who it was before she even saw him.

Roman leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable look that had been driving her crazy all day.

Serena straightened her posture. “Do you need something, Mr. Reigns?”

Roman smirked. “So we’re back to ‘Mr. Reigns’ now?”

Serena lifted her chin. “We’re at work, aren’t we?”

Roman exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Serena.”

She swallowed. “Roman.”

He took a slow step forward.

Serena immediately stepped back. “What are you doing?”

Roman didn’t stop. “Something I should’ve done earlier.”

Serena’s back hit the wall, and before she could even think about another escape, Roman was right there, boxing her in with his arms on either side of her.

Her breath hitched. “Roman, we can’t—”

“Why not?” His voice was low, his eyes locked onto hers. “Because we’re at work? Because you think I don’t mean this?”

Serena’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Because I’m trying so hard to do this the right way.”

Roman leaned in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. “And what if this is the right way?”

Serena’s resolve was hanging by a thread.

She had spent all day avoiding him, trying to convince herself that she could separate work from whatever this thing between them was.

But the way he was looking at her now—like he had always been sure of this, even when she wasn’t—made it impossible to think straight.

Roman lifted a hand, trailing his fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up. “You still running, Serena?”

Serena swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

Roman’s gaze flickered to her lips. “Then let me help you figure it out.”

Before she could even take another breath, his lips were on hers.

And this time, she didn’t run.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his shirt as his arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her flush against him.

The kiss was slow, deep—like he had all the time in the world to make sure she felt everything.

By the time they pulled away, Serena was breathless, her heart pounding.

Roman rested his forehead against hers, smirking. “Still wanna pretend this isn’t happening?”

Serena let out a shaky breath, her fingers still curled into his shirt.

“…No.”

Roman chuckled. “Good.”

Serena sighed, finally relaxing against him. “You’re impossible.”

Roman smirked. “And you’re mine.”

Serena opened her mouth to argue—but she didn’t.

Because maybe… just maybe…

She didn’t want to fight this anymore.

Serena didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other like they weren’t in the middle of work, like they weren’t supposed to be keeping things professional.

But honestly? She didn’t care.

Roman’s arms around her felt right. His warmth, the steady way he held her, like he knew she was going to try and talk herself out of this—out of them—and he wasn’t going to let her.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against his chest. “This is crazy.”

Roman hummed, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against her lower back. “Yeah. But I don’t hear you complaining.”

Serena scoffed but didn’t move.

Because he was right. She wasn’t complaining.

She was terrified—but she wasn’t running.

That had to mean something.

After a moment, Roman leaned back just enough to look down at her, his hands steady on her waist. “Tell me what’s going through that mind of yours.”

Serena bit her lip.

The truth?

She had spent so long making sure she was taken seriously, working twice as hard to prove she deserved her spot in a world where people like her weren’t always given a fair chance.

She had built herself up to be untouchable, unshakable.

And then he happened.

Roman, with his impossible confidence, his patience, his steady way of looking at her like he knew her, even when she didn’t want to admit what was in her own heart.

She exhaled slowly. “I just…” She met his eyes. “This isn’t just a moment for you, is it?”

Roman’s expression didn’t even falter.

“Serena,” he said, his voice steady, certain, “I don’t do ‘moments.’ Not with you.”

Serena swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in her chest.

Before she could respond, there was a loud bang as the door suddenly swung open.

“YEEEAAAHH!!”

Jey Uso literally jumped into the room, throwing his arms up in victory. “I KNEW IT! I KNEW Y’ALL WAS GON’ STOP PLAYIN’!”

Jimmy walked in behind him, shaking his head with a smirk. “Took you long enough, Uce.”

Naomi strolled in last, folding her arms with a very satisfied smile. “Well, well, well. What was that about keeping it professional, Serena?”

Serena groaned, burying her face in Roman’s chest. “Somebody kill me.”

Roman just laughed, tightening his hold around her. “Y’all ain’t got no jobs to do?”

Jey waved him off. “Nah, this is way more important. We been workin’ overtime tryna get y’all together.”

Jimmy held a hand out to Naomi, who smirked and placed a crisp $50 bill in his palm.

Serena’s head snapped up. “Are you SERIOUS?!”

Naomi shrugged. “Baby, I always bet on love.”

Serena groaned again while Roman just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much.

Jey nudged Jimmy. “You think we should leave ‘em alone?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I mean… we could.”

Jey smirked. “But it’s more fun to mess with ‘em.”

Serena glared. “I hate you all.”

Roman just chuckled, pulling her closer. “Nah, you love us.”

Serena sighed dramatically, but the warmth in her chest told her he was probably right.

And maybe, just maybe…

She was finally okay with that.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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