#another part of the mission involved something about

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

Sneaking Around With SKZ ✧ Part IV

Rating: Explicit/18+

WC: 4.7k

Comments: This a continuation of this anon requested fic. The reader ends her night peacefully with Chan. Come Monday, she gets to know a new side of Jisung.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght / @chuuyaobsessed / @joyofbebbanburg / @skybluelixie

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Chan takes your hand and leads you back into the living room. The snacks have been replenished, the sequel to the movie is queued up on the screen. and the members have switched up their seats around the room. Unsurprisingly, Seungmin and Hyunjin are cozied up together, the former playing with the latter’s hair as he talks to Jeongin on his other side. With his top half partially laid on Seungmin, Hyunjin’s got his legs over Jisung’s lap and propped up on the arm of the couch. Jisung seems to be animatedly explaining a theory about the next film while Hyunjin and Minho, on the floor in front of them, nod along. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink without skipping a beat. 

As Chan brings you over to the loveseat, pulling you so that you’re sitting next to him with your legs over his, your mind stays on Jisung. He and Jeongin are the only ones you haven’t hooked up with yet. Based on how things have gone so far, you wonder if you should expect to experience them together. Your first and second encounters were clearly planned to involve two members at a time, but you think you would’ve had Changbin on his own if Felix hadn’t offered his room. It’s been incredibly fun and satisfying so far, so it’s hard to decide if you’d rather have another threesome or not. 

Chan has yet to let go of your hand, and his other hand gently massaging your thigh. There’ll be time to focus on the others later, so you turn your attention to him. “Have you seen this one?”

“Not yet! Have you?”

When you shake your head ‘no’ he launches into his own theories on what comes next while you wait for Changbin and Felix to come rejoin the party. This eventually leads to a heated argument between Seungmin and Minho as everyone gets involved in the predictions, effectively ending when Seungmin gets up and just starts the movie. 

Without a “mission” you settle in and actually pay attention this time. When Changbin joined you on the couch, you moved your legs so he could sit comfortably; so now you’re just tucked into Chan’s side, legs tucked up so that your knees rest against his thigh, and his arm slung around your shoulder. He kisses your head or brings your hand up to press it to his lips every now and then, but it doesn’t go beyond that. 

When the movie ends, Minho immediately starts gloating and taunting Seungmin, but after a minute Jeongin finally pipes up to admit that he and Minho watched the movie together a few weeks prior. Obviously this results in a ton more yelling, and you can’t help but get involved. You’re again struck by how easy it’s been to integrate yourself into this group of men that you really hadn’t even expected to like. 

Following agreeing to a penalty of cleaning up after movie night (as if this had been a bet or something rather than just talking before a movie) and assurances that no one has seen any others in the series, predictions for the third film begin. All the while, Chan has scooped you back into his lap, just holding you while you all talk. During that time, you text your mom to let her know you won’t be home tonight. 

When the third movie finishes, it becomes a debate about whether you might as well watch the fourth and final of the series tonight or if you should just pick it up in the morning. The night owls of the group think they have the most convincing argument considering you, as if it would be a hardship for you to come back for a third time this weekend, on a Sunday no less. It’s silly. But as a night owl yourself, and considering how lively the early birds still seem to be, you opt for not clueing the whole group into your plans yet.

You lean close to whisper in Chan’s ear. “Should I tell them all that I’m taking you up on your offer to spend the night?”

Sweet leader that he is, Chan looks conflicted. “Would you rather watch now or tomorrow?” 

“I mean it’s not that late.” You glance at your phone to actually check the time. It’s really not that bad.

“Then let’s pretend you haven’t decided yet.” Chan grins conspiratorially.

This time you speak to the group. “Can’t we watch tonight? That way I can definitely see it with you?”

There’s a couple sighs, but it’s decided. You get a mix of high fives, thumbs ups, and kisses from the night owls depending on their proximities to you. This round of predictions is much shorter. When the movie ends, those who’d wanted to go to bed have no issue staying up for the next 45 minutes talking about the film then other things. Finally you all decide to call it a night. 

You’ve been attached to Chan since you left Felix’s room, and figure you might as well stay that way for the rest of the night. You give each of the Cuties a hug and kiss goodnight before heading back to the 3Retcha dorm with him. You can’t help but let your kiss with Seungmin linger a bit longer than the others. With Felix the hug is extended while he whispers in your ear about how much he enjoyed his time with you tonight and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks. Minho, of course, doesn’t give you the chance to linger one way or the other, popping you on the butt and pushing you off to Jeongin. You feel weirdly shy with him, so with a quick peck on the cheek, you’re on your way, trailing behind Chan with your hand in his again. 

Back at the other dorm, you all sit around the living room a bit longer chatting while everyone goes to do parts of their night routines in turn. Chan actually leaves the dorm for a bit, causing you to reevaluate your sleep plan. Your goodnight to Changbin is much like your goodbye to Felix with a few more kisses. You sit in his lap while the other two are in other rooms. He only chastises you a little for riling him up so much in front of the others. 

When Hyunjin returns with a bottle of water for you, Changbin plants a kiss on your forehead and says he’s out for the night. Hyunjin switches things up, plopping down into your lap. You wrap your arms around his waist as he laughs. “I can’t believe Seungminnie’s plan actually worked.”

You laugh. “I think you’re the one who got us there, though. What did you whisper to him?”

Hyunjin gives you a sly smile and boops you on the nose. “That’s a secret.”

You both jump a little when you suddenly hear Jisung say, “Secrets secrets are no fun, Jinnie.” 

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at him, and they start bickering. It’s cute. In the meantime, Chan has returned, but he heads straight towards the bedrooms. Since he was the one to offer to let you spend the night, you assumed you’d stay with him, but maybe not. Should I ask Hyunjin if I can sleep in his bed tonight? 

Just as you’re about to ask, a freshly showered Seungmin sweeps through the door. He plants a kiss on the top of your head while he pats Jisung on his. He makes his way toward Hyunjin’s room, hand extended behind him. “Let’s go, Jinnie, I’m tired.”

Hyunjin pops off your lap and nearly skips to catch up, grabbing Seungmin’s hand and blowing a kiss back over his shoulder. “Night!”

“They’re so cute, right?” Jisung sounds a little sarcastic, but the smile on his face as he watches them go is genuine.

“They really are.” You take the moment to study Jisung. His smile is so nice. His lips are pouty and look soft. You realize you haven’t really gotten to kiss him yet. Before you can follow that thought too far, Chan reappears, looking a little shy. 

“Night, Sung.” He holds out a hand to you. “Follow me?”

You lean over to kiss Jisung on the cheek, then place your hand in Chan’s and let him pull you off the couch. He brings you to the bathroom he shares with Changbin, immediately picking up a brand new toothbrush from the sink to offer to you. Now it makes sense that he’d left while you all were talking. How thoughtful. As you take in the space, you realize that it’s more than that. A bubble bath is standing by, and when you look back to Chan, he’s looking at his feet, a blush coloring his cheeks and ears. 

“I thought you might appreciate a soak after today.” He meets your eyes with a shy smile. “I’ve always found baths relaxing, though I don’t actually take them much.”

“You’re so sweet, Chan.” You pull him close. “Does that mean you’re getting in with me?”

As you pull back to look at him, you see his ears have gone from pink to red. “Uh, if you want me to? I, yeah. I, uh, I’d love to.”

It’s crazy that this man who was so assertive and in control this morning seems so unsure of himself, especially considering how wonderful he’s being. “You sure? You don’t have to.”

“No, I do want to. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

“Of course I do.” You give him your best smile and start pulling the hem of his shirt up. His smile matches as he takes over and pulls it over his head.

You both undress and he gets in first before helping you in. You settle between his legs, turning back for a nice, slow kiss. Chan wraps his arms around you for a beat before letting his hands wander, caressing your arms, stomach, chest, everywhere he can reach. After a few minutes, he encourages you to face forward while he brings his hands up to your shoulders. As he massages, you realize this is the second time you’ve bathed with Chan today. He has such a calming presence; you feel inexplicably comfortable with him. You’ve loved the adventurous experiences you’ve had so far with these men, but you’re starting to treasure the sweet, soft moments with them as well. 

After your bath, and subsequent shower, Chan leaves you to finish your nighttime routine to the best of your ability - using his hair brush and products along with the toothbrush he’d bought for you. When you head into Chan’s room, you’re confused as you nearly walk into each other, as Chan is trying to leave with a pillow and blanket. 

“Where are you going?” With the way he squeezes them a bit tighter to his chest, you can tell he’s feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Oh, you know,” Chan’s ears are burning red as he smiles at the ground. “Just heading out to the couch. I, uh, left a water bottle by the bed for you. Is there anything else you need before I go?” 

You remember that he offered to give up his bed when he asked if you’d want to spend the night, but you didn’t think he’d seriously think you’d want that. Especially after you’d just taken a bubble bath together. You put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s very nice of you, Chan, but I was kind of hoping for a cuddle buddy. Plus, I really don’t want to kick you out of your bed. If you’re uncomfortable sleeping with me, I could go ask Chang-” 

“No, no.” Chan cuts in. “I’d love to share the bed with you. I just didn’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.” You pull him back over to the bed, and when he puts his stuff down, you realize he’s dressed only in his boxers. You’re not even a little subtle as you check out his very impressive physique. His blush spreads up his chest to his cheeks and ears again. “Sorry, I should put some clothes on.” 

Chan starts for his dresser, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. “You shouldn’t. At least, not on my account.” 

You see that he’d left a shirt and shorts for you on the bed, but you simply toss your towel over the back of his desk chair. “I don’t usually like to sleep with clothes on, if I can help it.” 

It’s crazy how shy this man is considering that just this morning he’d been so assertive and in control. For a second, you wonder if the move was too aggressive and now you were making him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, alright.” He basically squeaks out. Adorable. “If you’re sure you’re good like this.” You smile and slide into the bed, pulling him to join you. After a moment’s hesitation, he slips his boxers off. You settle with him on his back, your head on his chest with your leg thrown over his. When you tilt your head up with a smile to say goodnight, he meets you with one of his own before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. At first you worry that it’ll take a while to fall asleep, but the day must catch up to you and you drift off within the minute.

-

When you wake, it’s clear you’ve shifted in your sleep. You’re on your side now, Chan’s muscular arm draped over your middle. You turn back to look at him; he looks so peaceful in his sleep. You wouldn’t mind staying like this all day, but you’d also much rather be minty fresh when he wakes up. You grab the shirt Chan had originally gotten out for you to sleep in and slip out the door.

On your way back from the bathroom, you see Jisung making his way back to his own room. He shoots you a smile and beckons for you to come over. 

“Sleep well?” He wraps an arm around your waist, turning and leading you into the kitchen.

“Very.” You watch as he grabs ice, filling two cups to the brims before approaching the nearly full pot of coffee. “How about you?”

You catch him grimacing as he turns his back to you to pour the coffee. “I got to sleep okay, but woke up early and haven’t been able to get back to it. So I gave up and made coffee.”

Now that he’s said so, you can see it in his face when he turns back to face you again. He looks beat. Rather than setting a cup in front of you, he jerks his head toward the living room. He puts the drinks on the coffee table, grabs the remote, and flops back onto the couch. You consider his arm stretched over the back of the couch and sit directly beside him, tucking your legs up so that your knees rest on his thigh. His arm comes down to rest around your shoulders; he gestures to the tv. “Music or a show?” 

“Hmm.” You wonder what could help him to relax most. “You were talking about how much you like Studio Ghibli yesterday; can you put on your favorite movie?”

Jisung gives you a ray of sunshine in the form of a smile. He queues it up, telling you about what makes it his favorite. After you sit up for a sip of coffee, you ask to reposition, to lay down to watch. Han is spooning you, his head resting against yours. He runs his hand down your side before wrapping his arm around to hold your hand close to yours close to your chest. He presses a couple kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder, but doesn’t try to do anything beyond that.

You ask him questions every now and then, even though you’ve already seen the film. With each answer, his voice sounds closer and closer to sleep. When the movie is about three quarters of the way through, you can tell by his steady breathing that he’s fallen asleep. You finally let yourself start to drift off as well, hoping you’ll both be able to get in at least a couple more hours. 

When you do wake, you notice that Jisung has rolled back toward the couch, making it easy enough to slip off the couch without disturbing him. You barely try to resist the urge to kiss his forehead before tip toe back to Chan’s room. He’s sitting at his desk, headphones on. You tap his arm lightly, and he turns with a slight start. 

He hits a couple buttons and slides the headphones off. “Hey, you’re up. Did you sleep okay? I hope I didn’t make you feel like you needed to move to the couch.”

“Oh, I slept just fine in here.” You want to assure him, especially when you think of how he seemed nervous to make you uncomfortable the night before. “I just ran into Jisung on my way back from the bathroom. He’d been having trouble sleeping, and I figured a movie and cuddling might help him relax.”

“Looks like you were right.” Chan’s smile is nearly as blinding as Jisung’s. “You guys looked so cute out there. I’m sure he really appreciated you helping him out. We all struggle a bit with sleep in this dorm.”

“I hope he does.” You chuckle a little along with him. You move to grab your clothes from yesterday. “He’s still sleeping out there. I’d wait to talk to him, but I probably should head home. We have dinner with my uncle tonight and I’m sure my mom wants me to help prepare everything.”

“Oh, I hope that’ll be fun. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll walk you home.”

“Sounds good. And take your time.” You pull a small touch up kit out of your bag. “It’ll take me a few minutes to cover these hickies.”

Chan blushes. “Sorry about that.”

You push at his shoulder playfully. “You don’t need to apologize; yours are hidden. Plus, even if it’s a pain, I liked getting them.” 

You’re sure you wear a matching blush with that, and you head to the bathroom. The walk home is great. Like last night, you’re struck by how easy it is to spend time with Chan, and the rest of the group. You figured after last night that you’d at least mostly be compatible sexually, but it goes beyond that. They’re all so genuine and easy to be around.

-

That night, you get a message from an unknown number. It seems to be from Jisung, thanking her for helping him that morning. You change a few messages back and forth, after confirming with Chan that it is in fact Jisung messaging you (can’t be too careful). The conversation is innocuous enough, so when you get a voice note, you raise your brow.

You hit play. “You know, I was a little disappointed that we didn’t end up having any alone time last night. But I hear you follow orders well.”

Another comes in. “You wanna try following my orders, jagiya?”

You would be embarrassed at the size of your smile if anyone were around to see it. You immediately type out a ‘yes, please.’

You can almost hear the smile in his voice in his next voice note. “I need to hear you say it.”

You decide to take it up a notch. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” A shot of anticipation goes through you when you listen to his next message. “Let’s start with something simple. Wear a dress tomorrow, and only a dress. Nothing underneath it.”

You shiver at the thought. You do have one that’s professional enough but also holds you up well enough that you should be able to get away with not wearing a bra. So you send him another “yes sir.”

-

The next day starts like any other, almost as if you didn’t spend the majority of the weekend getting railed by most of the men sitting around preparing to record. When you arrived, Han handed you a coffee with a raised eyebrow, eyeing your dress. You give him a small nod, earning a cocky smirk. A few minutes later, you feel the buzz of your phone and a message simply reading ‘good girl.’

Nearly halfway through the day, you get a text to meet Jisung in the studio during lunch. When the time comes, you arrive to an empty room. On the couch sits a piece of paper, an eye mask, and a set of headphones. The note reads: Put these on. Make sure the headphones’ noise canceling function is on. Sit still and wait for me. HJ

You follow the directions and try not to get too antsy. You can’t decide if you’re more nervous or excited. What if someone else comes in and finds me like this? He’d make sure that wouldn’t happen, right? You shift, tucking your fingers under your thighs.

Suddenly, you feel hands run up your thighs. You gasp in a breath and resist the urge to tear off your blindfold. Jisung’s hands bunch your dress up as far as it can go before shifting his hands between your thighs and gently pushing them apart. Like this, you know he can see that you did as he asked - there are no panties there to block his view of you. He pulls his hands away. 

For a moment, his thumb rests against your bottom lip, dragging it down before it’s gone as well. You feel your pulse hammering. Not being able to see or hear him has you on edge in the best way. You have no idea what he’s going to do next. 

After a minute, you wonder if he’s left you alone again. You shift, pulling your hands from under your legs and start fiddling with your ring. Jisung grips your wrists almost immediately; he positions them so that you are reaching behind you, holding onto the back of the couch. He lets his hands drift down the back of your arms to cupping and squeezing your breasts through your dress. His fingers leave a trail of fire in their wake, his every touch searing into you. 

Soon Jisung’s hands continue their path down your body, and he’s pulling your hips forward so that you’re perched on the end of your seat. He takes hold of each of your legs, positioning them so that you’re spread open and waiting for him. You feel his weight sink into the cushion next to you before dropping a kiss on your lips. His hair tickles your face as he dips down to lip up the side of your neck. Then he’s gone again.

It can’t be more than 30 seconds before he touches you again, but the anticipation makes it feel like forever. You jump when fingers begin spreading your lips and don’t have time to collect yourself before he drags his flattened tongue through your folds. After hearing him rap and sing, you know how talented Jisung is with his mouth, but this is a whole other level. He licks, laves, and sucks expertly, drawing a slew of soft sounds from your lips. 

“Fuck,” you groan out, hoping you don’t sound as desperate as you feel. You itch to touch him, but you’re sure he’ll stop if you move without permission. Still, you can’t help but grind your hips up with your next moan, chasing that friction. In the next second, Jisung is pulling away with a light slap to your thigh. You whimper, not because it hurts, but because you’d been hurtling toward your peak which came to an abrupt halt. 

Jisung adds insult to injury when hands on your knees bring your legs back together. You pout and catch the tail end of his laugh as he removes the headphones from your ears. “Don’t worry, baby. You were so good; I’m gonna take care of you now.”

“Please,” you whisper. You pull your bottom teeth between your lips but realize you forgot something. Not wanting him to change his mind, you tack on “sir.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you into a better position.” He takes your hands and pulls you off the couch. He leads you around to the arm of the couch and gently pushes you so that you end up leaned over it. You can hear the sound of a condom opening and are surprised at the jolt of disappointment that goes through you. It makes more sense to use one in this setting, but you can’t help but think about how there’s been nothing between you and any of the other members; you don’t want things to be different with Jisung, not in this way. 

You’re startled out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your ass with a resounding smack. You let out a little ‘ah,’ and he rubs over the spot soothingly. “That wasn’t too much for you, was it, baby?”

You shake your head before he even finishes the question. “No, sir. I liked it.”

“Good girl. Now I kinda wish you’d misbehaved so I could punish you.”

You wiggle your ass back and forth a little. “Maybe I will next time, but right now I need you inside me, please… sir. Please sir.”

With a quick slap to the other cheek, Jisung kicks your legs further apart and lines his tip up with your entrance. Between his earlier teasing and the lube on the condom, the slide is easy, and good thing - he starts slow but once he feels the lack of resistance, he thrusts in to the hilt. You moan in tandem. 

His hands are on your hips in a punishing grip as he pumps into you, lifting your hips to meet each of his thrusts. He works a steady rhythm, murmuring praise and curses alike. The angle is driving you wild, he’s hitting you in just the right spot. You clutch at the cushion above you, mouth open and panting, just taking what he’s giving you. You drift higher and higher, your moans blending together until they seem to be one drawn out expression of pleasure. 

“That’s right, baby.” Jisung ups his pace, and you feel one of his hands leave your hip to grab onto your hair; he pulls, causing your body to arch, and you almost can’t take anymore. When you manage to get his name out between moans, he finally relents. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good you look falling apart on my cock.”

His permission is like unlocking a door. You cry out, his name on your lips, tightening and trembling as he pounds into you. Not long after, he falls over the edge himself, slumping over your back. Once you both come back to yourselves, he pulls out. After disposing of the condom, he shimmies your dress back down into place and helps you into a standing position. He finally removes your blindfold and the sight of him sated with that cocky grin on his face, you nearly swoon. He’s so hot. 

Jisung sits you both on the couch, his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your wrist. He kisses you softly. Finally, you can touch him without restriction. You wrap your arms around his neck and slide your legs across his lap at his urging. He keeps one arm around your waist and a hand on your upper thigh. Despite all that just happened, this moment feels more intimate.

Jisung pulls back, but just barely, keeping his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. His voice is just above a whisper. “I hope that was good for you.”

“More than good, Sungie.” You beam at him then giggle. “I wish it wasn’t the middle of the day so we could do it again.”

He laughs. “I guess next weekend I’ll have to claim you early on so we can spend plenty of time together. For now, we have a little time left; wanna go grab some lunch?”

He makes sure everything in the room is cleaned up and in order, making sure all evidence of your time together is tucked away in his backpack before you head to the cafeteria.

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To be continued...

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Word Count: 4k

Part 2: READ HERE

The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 

Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.

All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  

Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 

“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”

As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”

To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”

Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”

Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  

Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 

The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 

You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 

And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.

“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 

You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.

“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”

He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”

You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.

With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 

You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  

The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 

The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”

He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 

Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”

“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.

Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.

The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.

Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  

It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”

Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.

Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 

How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?

The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.

You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 

That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 

The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 

And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.

You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.

The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 

Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 

Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 

Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 

Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.

“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”

It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 

By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 

You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.

“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.

Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 

Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.

Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  

You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 

“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”

You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 

“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.

You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 

“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”

The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.

Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 

You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 

Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.

The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 

Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 

This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.

And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.

[spidey-webz]

the sweetest sin – bucky barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Bucky goes undercover at a charity event to get closer to you. You’re his mission. But that dress you’re wearing is a little too tempting…

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, r deals with weapons, r and bucky have a shared history, mentions of bucky’s trauma, r wears a dress, r is also shorter than bucky, somewhat public sex (in a restroom, door closed), slight dom bucky, they’re both really horny, very little plot, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, mirror sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, darling), fingering with the metal hand, hair pulling

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This idea came to me after seeing the Thunderbolts trailer and I really hope you'll like this one!!

Masterlist

The ballroom was filled with chatter and music. Multiple waiters were balancing champagne glasses on their trays, walking from group to group and handing them out with a smile. There were men discussing business deals, old friends exchanging memories and some women holding onto their husbands’ arms as they laughed. 

None of them paid any particular mind to the man in the corner of the room. 

Bucky Barnes was leaning against a stone pillar, his eyes roaming through the room as he attempted to find you in the crowd somewhere. He had declined every glass of champagne, so he could stay alert if you passed by him. 

He had not seen you in a while. To be honest, he had never kept up with your life. His own had been quite the mess after the Blip, but seeing your name in the mission file served as enough of a reminder of what you two had shared. Bucky had been a man without a path ahead of him, only fleeing from everyone that might recognise him, and there you had been – in Romania. You had only spent a few weekends together, but he had enjoyed them all the same. For that short while, he had felt like a normal man. 

When had things gone wrong in your life? Or had you always been involved with this kind of trade? 

The files on you did not mention any criminal activity when he had first met you in 2016. Had it been the Blip that forced you to join illegal weapon trading? Had it been something else in your life?

Bucky could never say he knew you. There had been many secrets between the two of you, starting with his very own identity. You had made him feel safe and yet he hadn’t been able to share his name with you, too afraid that it might slip you at the market or at the gas station. 

Back then, he barely even knew himself. His memories had been a disorganised mess, a whirl of moments and feelings he could not exactly put together. Even being with you, feeling your warm body around him and having your lips wander like feathers over his skin – it had felt almost foreign to his troubled mind. 

Those memories were cherished by him and once he had settled back into a somewhat normal life, Bucky had found himself reminiscing about them on lonely nights. 

Now he was after you. 

There were so many women with the same hair colour as you, but he felt certain that he would still recognise you between all of them. Sam did not know why he had been so determined on receiving this mission, but he would explain it to him in due time. Bucky had promised to reduce the number of secrets he had, but he had never felt comfortable sharing you with anyone. Until now, he had kept you hidden away in a part of his heart that only he could access – in the middle of the night, in quiet moments, in the comfortable space of his bed. 

A flash of white passed by him. Another man might have missed it, but he had been trained to notice any movement in the corner of his eye for years. He turned his head to the side, trying to find the same white dress in the crowd again and there you were. 

Your dress was low-cut, no sleeves and a slit on the side for your thigh and knee to peak through with every step. He flexed his jaw, taking a deep breath as he watched you talk with a man he did not recognise. A glass of champagne rested easily in your hand, your eyes fixed on the person in front of you. He was not blessed with enough enhanced hearing to make out any part of the conversation, yet he found himself entranced with the movements of your lips. 

Bucky had feared that this might happen. He had not seen you in so long and there were so many questions floating around in his head, so many unspoken things on his tongue. But you were his mission all the same and he had hoped to make this entire ordeal a little bit easier on you if it was him that came looking for you. 

The dress you were wearing almost demanded all of his attention. His cheeks started to feel warm once he allowed the memories to flood in. He had you spread out on your bed, his tongue expertly moving between your folds, strong arms holding you in place just for him. You had squeezed his cock so beautiful during every night you two shared and this dress, the flashes of your skin, all of it reminded him of those moments. 

In an attempt to gather himself, he pulled on the ends of his jacket, straightening it in the process.  

People always moved out of his way. Even with his metal hand covered up, they often didn’t want to cross him. It was a strange sensation, no doubt. Bucky would not call himself particularly frightening. 

He did not mean to interrupt your conversation, but he did linger a little closer to you than before. If he caught you alone for a moment, he could speak to you. 

You had seen him when you had turned around to place down your glass of champagne. Bucky Barnes had been a momentary part of your life in Romania, but he had lingered in the back of your mind for years. You had changed and so had the world around you. It didn’t change the way his touch had seemed to stay with you. In lonely moments, it had become a source of comfort, a source of wonder. Of course, you had eventually realised who he was. It had been all over the news. 

The Winter Soldier. 

How could you not know him after every newspaper in town had his face plastered on their front page? And yet he had been a stranger to you until the last second. 

Whatever choices he had made, they had led him here and they had led him to follow you. If you could trust any of the newspaper articles you had read about him recently, he was now one of the good guys and that meant he was out to get you. 

Not that you had committed a horrible crime, but you had given other people the supplies to commit theirs. Enough of an offence to have the former Winter Soldier on your tail. 

You knew he would not interrupt your conversation. He was waiting for the right moment to speak to you and that moment would have to be one between just you and him. You decided to give him the chance to since his eyes seemed to burn holes into your back. With an apologetic smile, you excused yourself to the toilet. 

Moving through the couples standing in your way, you briefly glanced back over your shoulder. He was following you, a stern expression on his face. You had only smile him a few times and those never seemed to reach his eyes in the slightest. There had been a deep sadness about the man you had met in Romania and you wondered if it was still there. 

You closed the door to the restroom behind you, but it opened again just a moment later. 

There was a tzzzz sound and you knew Bucky had used some sort of device to lock the door behind himself. After engaging in weapon trade for a few years, you had become familiar with different methods to remain undisturbed for important conversations. As you stood in front of the mirror, you did not look at him at first. 

His presence alone sent a shiver down your spine. 

Had he thought of you these past years? Had he remembered you in a positive way? 

Bucky had stayed with you even days after his departure from Romania. The memory of his touch had been with you during a shower, during the boring commute to your job and most importantly, during nights facing the moon in an attempt to feel the same way you did for those short weekends. 

His eyes continued to linger on you. He was almost frozen in place even though you did not even give him a glance again. Bucky wanted to tilt your head to the side, run his lips over the familiar skin of your neck and make you shiver in his arms as he had done before. You were right there, a temptation he should avoid. 

He was on a mission. He was not here to reconcile with an old acquaintance and he was definitely not here to indulge any of his own desires. No matter how tight his throat started to feel and how his body seemed to protest his every thought. After all, Bucky had felt alive with you. After so many years of living on auto-pilot, those nights with you had brought him back to this world a little. 

Bucky flexed his left hand. How was he supposed to initiate this conversation? 

I am here to arrest you. I need to know more about the people you’re supplying to…

Why are you wearing this dress? I can’t stop looking at you. 

Neither of these options would work. 

His steps echoed through the empty bathroom once he approached. His reflection appeared in the mirror, close to yours and you searched for his gaze until your eyes met. Maybe you had just imagined it, but Bucky’s expression seemed to soften for just a moment. 

His posture gave him away though. He was tense, metal hand curled into a fist by his side. A smirk appeared on your own lips. His eyes drifted down your neck, to your collarbones and eventually to your cleavage. Of course, he was looking at you. The dress was a nice one, showing just enough to tempt any man. 

Bucky had never been able to forget any detail about you. Having you right in front of him brought all the desire he previously felt right back. 

“It’s good to see you, Bucky.” 

He had never heard you say his name before. Back then, it had always been a different one, but it now sent a shiver down his spine. 

“It’s good to see you too.” 

You were not oblivious to the looks he was giving you. It seemed like your body was tempting him just as it had done years ago. Would it get you out of this situation? 

His suit looked good on him too. You had never seen him in formal clothing before, but it brought out the best in him. His eyes were still the same piercing blue as you remembered. Even though your weekends together had not been of the strictly romantic kind, you had spend hours upon hours gazing into his eyes and trying to make sense of the man in front of you. 

Bucky had always remained a mystery to you until your ways had eventually parted. 

“Have all these years taken your ability to talk to me?” You asked with a wicked smile, turning around to him fully as you leaned against the sink behind you. You could watch his gaze briefly turn towards your exposed knee, then flicker back to your face. 

“Not at all. I am here to talk to you about your job.” So you had been right. Bucky was here to talk to you about your trade, but if you were quite honest, you were not in the mood to talk about it at all. 

“Do we really have to talk about that? You haven’t seen me in years.” You stepped closer to him, taking a moment to appreciate the beard on his face and the curve of his lips. He looked healthier than the last time you saw him – stronger, even. Would his lips still feel good on yours? Would his hands know exactly where to touch you? 

Could he make you come undone like he had done so many times before? 

“No, we do not.” His voice had grown rougher, his gaze darkened just a little. 

Bucky could smell your perfume. It seemed to envelop him entirely, dulling all his thoughts until there was only you. 

You and your pretty dress. You and your tempting lips and a body he wanted to lose himself in. 

His mission was on the line. Could he allow himself to fail it? Return home with empty hands? Just because his hands wanted to be all over you. Bucky wanted to run his fingers over your exposed knee, let his hand wander up and up until he’d reach the wet folds between your legs. Would you still taste the very same there? 

“I did not expect to meet you again like-”

Bucky’s finger found your lips and stopped your words altogether. You blinked up at him, once, twice, through long lashes and he knew he was a doomed man this evening. 

“Quiet,” he whispered. While his right index finger rested on your lips, his left hand slid up your arm. The metal was cool against your skin, a familiar sensation you had dreamed about many times in the past years. 

“Just be quiet.” He leaned down to your ear, his lips grazing your skin ever so slightly. “You look lovely in this dress.” A soft kiss planted at the spot between your ear and your jaw. Enough to send a shiver down your spine. You pulled your arm away to grab his hand, planting it on your waist instead. 

Bucky took his finger away from your lips and looked at you, desire burning in his eyes. His pants were getting tighter the more he thought about your naked body and the promise of maybe exploring it once more. Even if this would be a short-lived moment, he wanted to cherish it. When would he ever get the chance to touch you again? 

You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to give your body to him, even if it was just for one evening. 

Pulling him just a little closer, you pressed your lips against his. Bucky’s hands firmly grabbed your waist, pressing you up against him. You could feel his arousal hard against your leg and it brought a smirk to your lips. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. 

It was easy for him to lift you up onto the sink and part your thighs enough to stand between them. Bucky’s hands roamed your body, starting at your hips and running his big hands up your back. Your own began to wander to his shirt, opening it button for button, just to see his trained chest peak through. 

His tongue parted your lips, the kiss growing more hungry by the second. He felt like a man starved and you were the only one able to quench his thirst. 

“Need to fuck you in this dress.” His words were a low mumble against your lips, but still enough to make your panties almost feel soaked. Your pussy clenched around nothing, another sign that you needed him just as much. 

“Please do,” you whispered, already feeling out of breath when you briefly parted from each other. Bucky’s hands moved underneath your dress, squeezing the bare skin of your thighs, hands inching further to the inside. 

He wanted to savour this moment. Once you two left the restroom again, life would continue. For now, it could stay exactly like this. 

“Lift your hips for me, doll.” 

There it was. Doll. A familiar endearment from his lips and you were quite happy to oblige. Pushing yourself off the counter for a moment, Bucky hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your legs. He pushed them into the back pockets of his pants, before kneeling down on the ground in front in you. 

His lips were laced with a wicked smirk after he wet his lips with his tongue. “Spread your legs for me.” 

Once your thighs had parted for him, you leaned back against the mirror behind you, the cool glass against the back of your head. Bucky’s warm breath on your most sensitive spot caused goosebumps to spread over your entire body. 

“Already so wet for me. Did you lure me here on purpose?” Even though you couldn’t see his smile, you could hear it in his voice. 

Whatever words you wanted to reply got stuck in your throat once Bucky’s lips wrapped around your clit. He sucked on it softly, his metal hand travelling closer to where you needed him the most. As his middle finger slid between your wet folds, you pushed your hips against his hand, eager for more. 

“Oh shit,” you cursed under your breath. The cold sensation of his metal digit inside you left you gasping with every new curl of his finger. Bucky continued to alternate between sucking on your sensitive nub and flicking his tongue against it. 

He knew how to work your body and he wanted to see you explode in front of him. Your taste on his tongue was enough to keep him satisfied for days. Once he added another finger, filling your pussy so tightly, you pressed your left hand down on your mouth to prevent your moans to slip past your lips. 

Your right hand found its way into Bucky’s hair, pressing him just a little closer to your middle. The tension in your abdomen became more and more, your walls quivering around his fingers. With every stroke of his fingers inside you, with every expertly placed flick of his tongue, he brought you closer to a climax and he could tell. 

Bucky felt your walls clench around his hand, your thighs shaking around his head. A deep groan escaped him. It was enough to sent vibrations through your core, your squeal only being muted by your own hand around your mouth. 

“Come for me, darling.” You wanted to obey his wishes and with one more roll of your hips and a flick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit, your orgasm rolled over you. Your hand pulled harder on his hair as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. Bucky loved the feeling of your thighs closing around his head, almost threatening to smother him in-between. 

When he stood back up once your climax had worn off, he licked over his lips slowly. You barely had time to catch your breath when he pulled you right back into his arms, erection pressing against your thigh as you could taste yourself on his tongue. Bucky’s kiss was eager and hungry, his metal hand sneaking up the back of your neck. 

“Can you taste yourself on my tongue?” His words were a mumble against your mouth, almost being drowned out by another kiss. Bucky’s eyes were wide with lust, his hand manoeuvring your neck to the side, so he could run his tongue up your neck. Another moan slipped past your lips, your body eagerly pressing into his. You wanted to savour each of his touches and stop time. 

You nodded in reply, feeling the rough brush of his beard against your jawline. It was enough to make you shiver, enough to want even more of him. 

“Talk to me,” he urged you, his mouth right next to your ear. 

“Yes, I can.”

Your voice was trembling, your hands fumbling to get a hold of his cheeks. When you cupped his cheeks, you turned his face towards you. Bucky’s cheeks had turned a soft red colour and his hips were slightly rolling against your leg. He needed the relief as much as you had. 

“I need you.” 

Bucky didn’t need to hear more than that. You helped him open his pants and slide them down, his boxers soon following. In an attempt to relieve some of the need between your legs, you squeezed them together, but Bucky quickly pulled them apart once more. 

“Need to be inside you,” he mumbled against your neck. Your hands moved to his back, legs wrapping around his hips and Bucky grabbed the underside of your thighs to position you properly. His tip brushed past your folds, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Bucky had always filled you out so nicely and you couldn’t wait to feel it again. 

When he pushed inside, you leaned your head back against the mirror behind you. Bucky let out a soft groan, closing his eyes to savour the feeling. Your walls were still so very tight around him, fitting perfectly around his cock. His first thrust was slow, but it filled you out all the same. 

Your fingers attempted to get a hold of his shirt as he leaned down and softly sucked on the soft skin at your throat. “Fuck,” you groaned, pushing your hips up to feel him even deeper. Every thrust sent another wave of pleasure through you, your body rocking in sync with his even when his thrusts grew more rapid. 

Bucky’s fingers dug into the soft skin around your hips, holding you in place as started to chase his own high. The knot in your abdomen got tighter and tighter. 

He groaned into your shoulder, face pressed against your skin, his hot breath leaving goosebumps spread over your entire body. “Shit,” you cursed again, feeling yourself getting so close to that sweet high – once again. 

Before you could reach your sweet relief, Bucky pulled out again, leaving your cunt empty and leaking. A puzzled expression appeared in your face, but you soon knew what his plan was. In one swift movement, Bucky had you off the counter and turned around, seeing your own flushed face in the mirror. 

Bucky entered you once more, this time with one hard thrust. It was already enough to send you over the edge, but his thrusts kept going. Your pussy was spasming around him, legs trembling as your orgasm just kept going. Bucky’s metal hand pressed down on your mouth to silence your moans as he kept the ruthless pace up, hitting your sensitive spot over and over again. 

The pleasure was too much, your thighs trying to squeeze together and your hands holding tightly onto the counter. His grunts of pleasure filled your ear and his eyes searched for yours in the mirror. Once your gazes met, his teeth scraped against your earlobe, his thrusts growing almost erratic. Bucky was so close too, so close to spending himself inside you. 

“Going to fill you up, doll,” he groaned and as you pushed your hips back again, walls squeezing his cock so deliciously, it finally tipped him over the edge. His low moan sounded in your ear and his face was distorted with lust. The sight alone gave you one final push to reach your next high, one hand desperately holding onto Bucky’s strong forearm. 

He held you in place as ropes of cum painted your insides white, his cock still pulsing inside you. Bucky wanted to hold you like this forever, as close as humanly possible, and never let go again. 

Soft kisses were planted on your shoulder, his beard scraping along your soft skin, leaving a slight redness behind. His lips wandered over to your pulse point, making you whimper as you pressed yourself back into his chest. 

“I’ve missed you.”

His words were unexpected, but you cherished them all the same. You had missed him too – more than you often liked to admit. 

“I missed you too.” 

There were still so many things to discuss between you, but Bucky was pretty sure that those could wait for another moment longer. That dress had already distracted him more than enough, but he wished to remember every little detail of you wearing it. That would take time. 

It definitely looked like time had stopped for the both of you, even if it was just for tonight. 

[nanamiscocksleeve]

heyy ray! first things first, i LOVE your writing. that's all i have to say like i literally go nuts every time

sooo this is not a kinktober request and i know you probably have TOO many things to write lol butttt if it's in your taste i'd really like to see your take on the lads man reacting to their lady not wanting to have sex because she hasn't shaved while being away on a mission or something and is feeling insecure about that ig???

and! if i can ask to be the little moon emoji🌙 then i'd like to, please! as always thanks for all the stories you're aMAZING

Hi there! Yes you can be moon anon. Thank you for the kind words! It makes me happy that people are enjoying my work.

Soooo it's actually such a coincidence that you mentioned the body hair thing because I have a story wip for Zayne involving that particular area and hair 😆😆😆 Keep an eye for it btw!

As for the general reaction of the men, I genuinely think all of them are mature enough to handle a little hair and they're not bothered by it. This is how I think this would go.

Sylus: He'll look at reader quite suspiciously. He knows she's not on her period and after trying to get an answer from her, he'll stop when she tells him to quit asking. For a little while anyway. They have a shared home delivery app and when reader makes a purchase later that night he sees all the hair removal products and instantly makes the connection. He'll seek her out, tell her he doesn't care and that his kitten can't be a kitten if there's no hair on her pussy 🤭. When reader protests, he'll pull her close and tell her he missed her and if it really bothers her, she can get a bikini wax tomorrow. He'll even pay for it, but he's needy for her NOW and nothing in his view can change how beautiful she is, hair or no hair.

Xavier: Will assume she's on her period and brings over stuff for her like tea, chocolate, and some selfcare stuff like scented candles and face masks. Reader will be amused at Xavier's assumption and after a few shy moments, she'll tell him in a very vague way that she feels unkempt and that's why she doesn't want to have sex. Xavier thinks unkempt = hasn't bathed and asks if maybe she wants to take a quick shower together. At this point reader shakes her head and admits that she hasn't had time to self-groom down there because of her mission. Things finally click in Xavier's head and he'll ask if he can look and if he doesn't think it looks unkempt then they have should have sex. Of course Xavier gets pussy drunk the minute he sees it and they end up having sex.

Rafayel: This man will straight up pout if you tell him you don't want to have sex. And he'll try to guilt you as well. He'll say you must not love him anymore or that you're hiding a secret from him. Then finally in exasperation, reader will ask him if he wants to fuck a shag carpet because that's what it looks like down there. And of course Rafayel, with his sarcasm and playfullness will say something like "A shag rug for a pussy? I've never heard of such a thing I have to see it now!" And you'll have to show him before he throws another fishy tantrum. When he looks at it he'll sigh dramatically and say "It's not even close to a shag carpet, you exaggerate everything. Now that it's out in the open, let's just have sex."

Zayne: Without giving too much away from my fic...Zayne doesn't care. He's a doctor. He's seen his fair share of hair on body parts and isn't fazed. Also, the vibe I get from them seems to be more of a long-term couple and they've seen each other through their ups and downs so reader will straight up tell him she feels self-conscious about having sex because she hasn't shaved. Zayne will say he respects her decision but removing the hair can cause ingrowns and itching and he doesn't want her to do it incorrectly in order to have sex as soon as possible. He convinces her that they should have sex at least once before she removes it because there's no telling how she might feel after the exhaustion of removing all the hair. You can remove it on your own time but right now he wants you and let's face it, you've popped pimples off his back and he's seen you trimming your toenails, are you really going to let a little hair stop you from riding this man? 🤭🤭🤭

[yesimwriting]

Easing

a/n just a little logan idea i had while thinking of ways to work on my characterization of him :)

Summary: A contemplation of mortality. Or, alternatively, reader sustains a minor injury while on a mission and Logan sees the end of the world.

Warnings: age gap (where everyone is of legal, consenting age), slight descriptions of injury, unnoticed pining

----

The dimness of the room adds an edge to your haziness, blurring the furniture in a way that dampens your mood.

You've been curious about Logan's room longer than you'd ever admit, and now that he's pulled you into it to not-so-discreetly scold you when all you want to do is go to bed, you can't even enjoy the benefit of taking in your surroundings.

You take advantage of the fact that your back is to him, eyes falling shut as you focus on ignoring the buzz of the electricity powering his bedside lamp. The plights of being an exhausted technopath.

There's a severity to his presence, a sharpness in the way he lingers behind you. It'd be all too easy to leave him to his brooding, to halfheartedly accept any verbal lashings he feels like giving you and be done with it. But Logan knows you, knows how you work well enough to find a way to interpret your lack of commentary into something it's not, a sign that something is wrong with you beyond a scrape against your temple and a drowsiness you're not used to.

"So," the word feels flat, almost distorted, "This is your room."

He exhales, a puff of air that tells you he's in no mood for anything lighthearted. "What were you thinking?"

Logan had asked the same question of everyone else involved. "That I was helping people."

There was nothing dramatic or life threatening about the scratches against the side of your face. You were thrown to the ground and the gravel cut against your cheek and the side of your forehead. You were quick to get up and put the person that attacked you in their place.

He walks forward, turning to face you. His attention remains fixed on some point that seems to exist right past your shoulder. "If it helps, I broke the other guy's nose right after."

Logan doesn't exactly ease, but you don't miss the way the corner of his mouth attempts to tug itself upwards. "Yeah?" The word's more amused than he wants it to be.

"Mhm," you hum cheerily, recalling the sting of your knuckles and the sound of bone cracking. That had been the part of the mission you wanted to tell him about. "Punched him just like you showed me."

His eyes briefly meet yours before falling towards the floor. "Deserved more than a punch."

You sigh. "Come on." When he doesn't react, you take a cautious step forward. Logan still doesn't look at you. "It's not that bad."

"You're bleeding."

Any blood staining your skin is old and dry. If Logan hadn't found you so quickly you would have cleaned it yourself in the bathroom. You barely had time to finish changing into your pajamas before Logan knocked on your door. "It's old." Your assurance doesn't ease him. You take another step in his direction. "Logan."

He lets out a breath, the sound pointed. "You didn't let anyone clean it?"

The question is the closest he's come to your usual dynamic. There's nothing passive aggressive about it, and yet it manages to dig at you a little more than anything else that's been said.

Logan's older than you. It's no secret and rarely a source of concern, the two of you comfortable enough with the age gap in your sort-of-friendship for you to occasionally joke about him being an old man. But when things like this come up, and he worries a little too much, a part of you starts to wonder if he only tolerates you because he sees you like a little kid.

You lift your chin slightly, doing your best to seem a little more stable. "I'm not one of the kids, I can clean my own cuts."

His eyes meet yours, the look warning you against leaning into anything overly confident. You resist the urge to smile. "Aren't you all grown up, bub?"

Your lips part, but you're too distracted by the uneasy warmth settling in your chest to think of a response. The corner of his mouth bends into what feels like a partial smile. The look vanishes before you can be sure.

He turns with no warning, walking towards an unfamiliar door. You watch him for a long moment before following.

Logan opens the door, turning his head slightly to make sure you're behind him. He turns on the light before fully stepping into the room. You inhale sharply in an attempt to dismiss the burning pressure of the influx of electricity.

His bathroom is tidy, with only a toothbrush and a soap dispenser taking up the counter space next to his sink; a navy blue bath mat in front of the shower; and neatly hung towels. Something about seeing this feels oddly personal, and you're not sure why. It's only a bathroom, and it's only Logan.

He halfheartedly taps his fingers against the counter once. "Sit," said in a tone that is only ever used when he's not in the mood to be contradicted, even if you only mean to do so adorably.

The warmth returns with a vengeance, but you obey anyway. As long as he's preoccupied with you, he's not lashing out at anyone that might have seen what happened to you and not attempting to kill Scott for thinking to ask you to go on the mission.

You pull yourself onto the counter, placing your hands on your lap to limit the space you're taking up. Logan twists the faucet before reaching for a wash cloth. He dampens the cloth before bringing it to your cheek. He dabs at the scraped skin with a carefulness that twists your stomach.

"You need to take better care of that face." It's meant to be another way of scolding you, but the words lack any bite.

If you were less aware of your breathing, you'd roll your eyes. "It'll heal."

Logan sighs, moving the cloth up your temple. He finds a particularly ginger spot beneath your eyebrow, you press your lips together to keep from reacting. He pulls the wash cloth away, giving you a look that makes you feel terribly transparent. "You're hurt."

"I--" You cut yourself off. There's little point in attempting to lie to him, especially when he's looking at you like that. "I'm a little sensitive, but that's normal. You're just not used to it because you heal too fast."

"Too fast?"

You nod, glad for the excuse to turn this onto him. "If you healed at the same rate as most of the population, you'd look at it like a paper cut."

He throws you a look that's entirely unconvinced as he sets down the wash cloth. "I'm sure."

Logan picks up the Neosporin he set aside earlier, applying some of the ointment to his fingers. He hesitates before dabbing the product against your skin. His other hand finds the other side of your face, thumb pressing into your chin to turn your head to better assess his work.

His eyebrows pull together as he searches your features for something you don't understand. You're not convinced he's found it, but he does eventually let you go.

Instead of moving away from the counter, Logan holds his hands out in front of you. It takes you a moment to understand what he's asking, but once you catch on you offer him your own hands, letting him study your knuckles.

The skin is a little irritated, but far from as agitated as the scrapes against the side of your face. "At least you got some good hits in."

The validation comforts you more than it should. You're glad he's too focused on your hands to see your smile. "I'm tougher than I look."

He lifts his head slightly, eyes finding yours in a way that feels a little softer than before. "I don't doubt that, kid."

Logan releases you carefully, setting your hands back onto your lap. He keeps himself there for a moment, fingers resting against the back of your palm. When he does move away, he does so to reach for the Neosporin.

You roll your eyes as he applies the product to your knuckles. "You're very dramatic tonight."

He glares in a way that tells you you're in no position to comment on his level of concern. Usually, you'd push, but he's probably been through enough tonight. And maybe--only maybe--a part of you is enjoying his version of coddling.

Logan picks up the wash cloth again, wiping the excess product onto the fabric before taking a partial step back. "You're clean."

He's still in front of you, too close to let you push yourself off of the counter. "Thanks." Your fingers tap against your knee. "Anything you want to yell at me or was that a Scott only thing?"

He scoffs. "I told him if you came ba--"

"I'm fine." His irritation at the correction is enough to silence him. "And it wasn't his fault." A completely true statement, considering Scott was nowhere near you when it happened.

Logan places one hand on the counter, the side of his thumb nearly touching your thigh. "It was his idea for you to be there." Another fact, though one that's completely disregarding the complexities of the situation. A single touch from you completely fried the security system being used to hold other mutants hostage. "He was outside of your room while you were changing..."

What? You blink, so surprised in the change of topic you don't even know where to start. "Uh--" In all honesty, you had thought Scott was kidding about staying near you until the situation was diffused. You also thought it was ridiculous to assume Logan would see you before morning. "He said proximity to me would make it less likely for you to kill him."

His eyebrows draw together, his expression morphing into something you can't quite interpret. "Not his best theory."

Now it's your turn to glare. While you're not particularly fond or un-fond of Scott, he doesn't deserve the blame for this. "Not his fault, either."

He frowns in a way that's meant to let you know that you'll have to agree to disagree. Logan watches you for another moment before taking a step back. You use the space to push yourself off the counter. He--he's closer than you thought he'd be.

"I uh--" You let out a breath, focusing on the drowsiness that had been bothering you the entire way back from the mission. This isn't the longest you've ever gone without sleep, but the mission had drained you. There had been a lot of complicated technology in the facility that you had to concentrate on mentally hacking. "I think I'm gonna go to bed."

Logan presses his lips together before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "You can--" The words are mumbled, hesitant. "You can stay in here tonight, if you want."

You blink. He um--You guys have spent a fair amount of time together, more so than usual recently, but he's never implied anything like this. The only thing more startling than the offer is the fact that it isn't...unappealing.

You like being around Logan more than you'd ever admit. You're always looking for excuses to be around him more, and now he's giving you a reason to stay.

"Yeah," the response feels too uncertain, too surprised. "If it'll help your old man heart to see that I'm perfectly fine."

He angles his head to the side, the corner of his mouth pulling itself upwards. "As long as you're doing me a favor."

"I know," you say, glad for the excuse to return to a more familiar dynamic, "I'm so kind."

Logan turns around with a slight sigh, "Mhm."

It's easy to follow him out of the bathroom. "That felt sarcastic."

"No," he lies, pulling back his sheets before sitting on the left side of his bed, "You're a saint."

You hesitate, standing halfway between the bathroom door and the bed. It's just Logan--who sits with you to watch movies he couldn't care less about, who actually listens to you, who sits you down on his bathroom counter and applies antibiotics to split skin.

You walk towards the other side of his bed. Logan pulls back the sheets on the other side of the bed before you sit. Now that you're actually resting beneath comfortable bedding, the exhaustion that you've been ignoring all night spreads over your limbs.

He reaches for his bedside lamp but doesn't turn off the light. "Comfortable?"

You mumble your confirmation before the room's soft light vanishes with a soft 'click'. It hits you, then, that you still haven't been able to take in his room the way you would've liked to. Maybe in the morning.

You lay down, pulling the comforter up to your neck. There's something distinctly relieving about the end of the day, when all forms of electricity are turned off and the buzzing beneath your skin is finally given a way out. You've gotten better at controlling it, at ignoring it until it's little more than background noise, but when you over use your abilities, the mental shield that divides you and the feeling begins to slip.

You're somewhere between asleep and awake when some instinct convinces you to squint your eyes open. A final look at Logan, and that'll be enough. It's too dark for you to make out much more than a vague silhouette, but something about his rigidness tells you he's far from asleep.

"Logan?"

He's silent for so long you begin to wonder if he's going to pretend to be asleep. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and for a moment you're almost taken back by how much you mean it. "I was just..." There's no real end to your sentence. You don't know why you couldn't let yourself fall asleep. Maybe it had been the way he looked at you, concern too genuine over something so small. "Are you okay?"

You hear him let out a breath. "Anything could have happened."

There's a heaviness to his voice that immediately presses itself against your chest. Did this--did it really scare him that bad? You know he's used to the rapid rate at which his body repairs itself, but that doesn't mean that anyone that recovers at a regular rate is on death's doorstep over something so small.

"But it didn't." He scoffs, the sound dismissive. You move onto your side. "It didn't." When he doesn't react, you reach for him. He doesn't move away when you bend your fingers around his forearm. "And what didn't happen doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here."

You pause, dragging your thumb against his skin. Logan lets out another breath, the sound something that lacks acceptance. He moves his arm away, but before you can read too much into the movement, his fingers are bending around your own.

[chsopnk]

「 ✦ XOXO ✦ 」

☆. # SHIP — choso, toji, sukuna, toge (separately) x gn!reader

☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — first kisses with the boys. ;; requested.

☆. # WARNINGS — mentions of blood in toji’s part.

CHOSO.

i’d imagine your first kiss with choso would be sweet. definitely the most normal out of all of them (😭)

he’s never kissed someone before so you’re his first kiss ever!!

he really doesn’t know what to do at all. when you lean closer to him he’s like ????? because he’s not entirely sure what you’re trying to do

but once your lips touch his, his face goes BRIGHT RED

definitely freezes up and just stares at you wide-eyed

i think the first kiss with choso wouldn’t be anything wild. honestly, it’s probably just a little peck on the lips

like a “mwah” and that’s it, but he still freaks out about it

also. choso will definitely look all dazed afterwards, his fingers reaching up to touch his lips

might be a little confused at first since he’s not really sure what to make of it

give him 5 minutes and he’ll be back and asking, “can you do that again?”

TOJI.

with this one, there’s no holding back. he doesn’t care if it’s the first or last kiss.

he will bruise your lips 🥴🥴

toji would hold the back of your head and press you even closer to him, despite the fact that not a piece of paper would fit between you two

first kiss? no. he’s eating your mouth.

i feel like even if he told himself (and maybe you) that he’ll be gentle and that it’ll be this sweet little thing, he just CANNOT hold himself back

self control = 0.000 for this man i stg

but then if it does go out of control, trust that he’ll blame you for it. you’re just too hot, what can he do against that? 💀

i’d imagine your first kiss with toji would happen after a particularly hard mission. when one of you is all bloody and you’re both exhausted and aching.

and it’s definitely a ‘heat of the moment’ type of thing and after that, it’ll take 5-7 business days for both of you to come to terms with the fact that MAYBE, just maybe, you’ve got some kind of feelings for each other

he doesn’t know what a gentle kiss is and will always use tongue. the kiss to seal the wedding? good luck 😭😭😭

SUKUNA.

first important question here is: which mouth are you trying to kiss 💀 mf got like 3.

this man’s kisses are nasty—whether in a good or bad way is honestly your decision LMAO

with sukuna, it’s all or nothing. so there’s no sweet little peck on the lips.

it also heavily depends on who you are, i think. but if we’re talking about the first kiss you have with him, i’d say it’d probably happen during a fight.

as funny as that is, he likes when strong people fight him and i think he likes it even better if they’re a little feisty

now he probably always thought you were interesting and you’ve been hanging out together. but yeah. first kiss after or DURING a (probably) physical fight you have with him 💀

he’s rough with you.

a lot of tongue, teeth clashing probably. another one that will eat your mouth.

one hand is wrapped around your neck when he kisses you, always.

he also bites (😒)

TOGE.

i think with toge, you were probably best friends before the kiss happened.

you were on his bed together in the dorms. he was playing a game on his phone and you were watching him.

you were probably messing around with each other, joking and fighting with pillows or something like that.

and it’s the most cliché thing ever but:

he somehow ends up on top of you, his arms on either side of your head.

and then you just stare at each other for a while. both of your cheeks flaring up a bright red at the proximity, but neither of you tries to move away.

with toge, it’s slow and gentle i’d imagine.

not a quick peck, but there’s no tongue involved or anything—at least not during the very first kiss you guys have together.

but it’s a gentle touch, his lips lingering for a while before he pulls away. and then there’s another round of simply staring at each other. both of you are a bit dazed, looking into each other’s eyes while trying to figure out what exactly just happened

but once the moment’s broken, toge gets off of you, hiding his face in his collar to stop you from seeing just how red his cheeks are <3

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

45 / 1.9k / soap soulmate au, part 11

...

Mercenaries can be paid off for just about anything.

So when Price rings your cell phone to propose a trade—Laswell had your number, naturally—Horangi has no qualms with fishing it out of your pocket. You glare at him, but he doesn’t bother giving you anything more than a dry look before he answers it.

You hear Price’s voice from the speaker in Horangi’s ear. "Was wondering what was taking you lot so long."

Horangi sighs. It never ends, apparently. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Just to talk," Price replies. "What's your rate?"

"Come again?" Horangi asks.

"We're all soldiers here. Unfortunate that our mission came at the cost of yours, but we can all walk away happy, hm? I want to make sure you don’t go uncompensated. That’d be a shame."

Horangi scowls, but one of your squadmates in the back seat grips your shoulder and shifts his weight toward the phone in obvious interest.

"What do you have in mind?” Horangi asks.

"First, your rate."

"Too rich for your blood."

"Try me."

Horangi narrows his eyes. Then he shrugs and throws out a number. It's far more money than KorTac’s real fee, but before you can decide whether to say something, Price speaks again.

"We'll double that."

"Will you now?"

"I will. Even pay you all directly if you like. No need to involve the company. Just keep your handler’s cut for yourselves. I won’t say a word," Price says. "That should be good enough, shouldn't it?"

Horangi leans back, tapping the steering wheel in thought, but you can tell he's interested now. "What's the job?"

"Not a job, really. Just a favor. Let us have custody of your songbird, and the money's yours. Make up some story about how she got away or got shot if you need a scapegoat. We’ll turn a blind eye if you prefer. Keep the record nice and clean."

Horangi glances at you. “Songbird’s worth a lot to the company.”

“You’re not the company, now are you? You already did the damn job. You should get paid. You and your team.”

He likes the sound of that. Price's offer turns both of your situations into something everybody can be pleased with. Get the mercs paid for what they lost. They get the girl. Fine by him. He hums in thought. “Cash in hand.”

There’s a beat of silence on Price’s end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cash in hand,” Horangi says again. “Or no deal.”

“Are you sure about that? Wired funds spend just as well as cash.”

“I can afford to be picky, my friend.”

Another long pause. “Is that so?”

“Apologies. I’d be happy to consider your deal if I hadn’t already made a better one with someone else. He’s willing to pay cash.”

“Who?”

Horangi scoffs and ends the call. He tosses your phone into the backseat floorboards and ignores your stare burning into the side of his head. “Don’t worry, rookie,” he tells you. “You know it’s a better deal than you’d get back at base. You’ll thank me one day.”

…

But you don’t make it back to base.

It’s an ambush. A trap—Horangi doesn’t see the charges on either side of the road until it’s too late, and the truck transporting you flips forward onto its roof. One minute, you’re feeling the melted snow in your boots; the next, you’re looking down at the road through the windshield. Then you’re coming to in a haze of gunfire and hoarse voices barking call-and-response orders all around you.

It’s not until your teammates have evacuated the wrecked truck that you attempt to move yourself and do the same. Maybe they plan to come back for you; maybe they think you’re dead. Maybe you are dead. You really fucking hope not. Whatever death has in store for you, it had better not force you to contend with the agonizing pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken glass buried in every second nerve ending.

You push against the seatbelt holding you to the seat, having to twist out of your coat just to slump to the pavement. You’re still ziptied, but you have to move. If whoever laid this ambush finds you, you're done for.

Somehow, all you can think about is Johnny. If he could see you now, he’d never let you hear the end of it. He’d lecture you like a goddamn recruit. You hate how much you want to see his stupid face get angry at you again.

There’s a long lull in the gunfire. Then the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone curses and orders the others to “spread out,” searching for your scattered teammates—for survivors.

Your teammates aren’t coming. You’re on your own.

Then you remember Price’s call and Horangi swiping your phone from your pocket.

Desperately, you shoulder your way back into the wreckage. Somehow, you find it. The screen is cracked, but it still lights up when you wrestle your bound wrists under your feet and touch the screen. Thank Christ. You redial Price's number from the call log.

He picks up on the first ring. "Go for Price."

"I need to talk to Johnny."

There's a moment of crackling silence through the line. Then: "Soap's tied up at the moment. What's going on?"

"I don't know. Ambush. The car flipped." You wince, feeling broken glass cut into your shoulder. The slushy pavement under you is turning ruddy. Oh, that’s your blood. "It's bad."

Price swears under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Near the base of the mountain. In the side. There's a... a lot of trees. Twenty hostiles. I think. I can't see."

"Stay put. We'll find you. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

"I want to talk to Johnny."

"For God’s sake. You can talk to him in person when we find you. Just sit tight."

"Let me talk to my goddamn soulmate," you hiss. You put as much venom into your voice as you can, but even you hear how weak you sound.

Price says something away from the speaker you can't quite make out. There's shuffling and then another familiar voice picks up, low and gruff, and tinged with a Scottish burr.

"Hen?"

The wave of relief that sweeps through you renders you mute for a second.

That makes the worry in his tone swell. “You okay? They hurt you?"

The concern in his voice has your throat tightening. Dammit.

Before you can reply, there's another burst of gunfire and a hostile voice much too close by for comfort. You grab the phone and edge your way further into the tenuous safety of the wreckage. You clutch the phone in your hands, barely clocking the glass screen digging into your palm.

The sound of your voice cutting out over the line triggers Soap’s anxiety all over again. He curses up a storm on the other end, his voice rising with every word and the urgency in his tone growing as he calls you by name.

You hear more footfalls, but whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you. You've not been gunned down yet, at least. You need to find somewhere safer.

Peering around the wreckage, you look for somewhere else you can hide. The tree line is close. You don't know how long you'll last in the snow no matter what, especially without your coat—but cold cover is safer than none. Staying under a leaking, gasoline-filled truck carcass isn’t a good long-term plan.

Soap’s voice rises over the line. "Dammit, say somethin'!"

Finally you do. "Johnny?"

"Jesus." Soap closes his eyes, hoping like hell he's not about to hear you get shot, or captured, or worse. He can already tell by the rough sound of your voice that he's not going to like what you say next. "I'm here," he says quickly, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. "Where are ya?"

"I’m an idiot. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about..." You let out a harsh sigh. "You. Just wanted to tell you that."

It suddenly feels like there's a block of ice lodged in Soap’s chest. "That a goodbye, darlin'?" he says.

"I'm doing my goddamn best. Alright?"

"That’s a sorry fuckin’ excuse. You’re aways doing your best," Soap snaps. An ugly, hard thread of bitterness creeps into his tone. "Trouble is you always choose the worst way of goin’ about it. I’m not lettin' you go like this.”

"I know it's my fault," you retort. "Okay? I should've listened to you. Are you happy to hear me fucking say it?"

"Does it look like that's gonna fix things?" Soap’s voice rises with every word now. His temper is frayed at the edges. "No, I'm not bloody happy. I don't want apologies. I don't want some grand realization. I just want you to survive. You're damn right you fucked up. And you've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, so you'd best stay alive. You hear me?"

You swallow, clutching the phone tighter in your hands.

"Answer me."

"I'll try."

"No. You'll do," Soap says in a voice that brooks no argument. His voice drops low again, but the anger is still there. "You will make it back to me. You'll do whatever it takes. You don't get to leave me alone after all the trouble you gave me. I'll not hear one more sorry excuse."

God. You want him so bad it hurts. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pain of the glass in your skin and your dislocated shoulder to sharpen your focus. "Fine."

"That's my girl." The words come out rough, heated, and tinged with something like pride. "You just stay put," he says. "We'll find you."

You tense as another set of voices raise in aggravation nearby. The longer you stay here, the greater the chance you'll be seen. "I have to go," you say lowly into the phone. "Need better cover."

"Stay on the line," he says quickly. "Do not hang up. Hen!"

You bring your ziptied wrists down hard on the edge of your boot—and again, and again, pain radiating up your arm—until it finally snaps.

With your hands free, you pull yourself out from under the wreckage and away, leaving Soap on the line to hear nothing but shouting and gunshots.

Soap listens through the phone, biting down hard on the curse that threatens to tear free. He can't lose you. He's going crazy imagining the worst right now. His mind is all too happy to cycle through a parade of gory images. No. No, you can't go, not like this.

He'd give anything to be a knife on your belt right now. A bullet in your gun. Anything but this—this utter fucking helplessness. He can’t do anything but sit on the other end of a line and listen. It's torture.

Even with Price at the wheel, racing all of them toward the bottom of the mountain.

"We'll make it, Soap," is all Price says.

Soap nods, but he barely hears it. All he can listen to is the sound of gunfire through the phone and the cold, visceral rage in the pit of his stomach. He'll claw his way to you with his bare hands if he has to. It doesn’t matter how much blood and sweat it costs him to get you back. You’d better keep your word and stay alive to make it up to him.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / [part 11] / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[fushitoru]

私はスター ! masterlist

note: works indicated with a star (★) contain/will contain explicit smut. proceed with caution, heed all warnings, and remember⸻don't like it? don't read it!

series.

the season of thorned roses ⸻ gojo x reader ★

dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

long-fics.

infect me with your love ⸻ gojo x reader ★

you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City? (19.7k). part of kinktober 2024!

one-shots.

gojo satoru.

rainy days and brownies ⸻ gojo x reader ★

you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky) (2.2k)

seperation anxiety! ⸻ gojo x reader ★

clan head satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought.

the importance of skincare ⸻ gojo x reader ★

worried about your boyfriend's skin health, you're set out on a mission to teach him about skincare, sitting him down and rubbing products over his face while seated on his lap. only, he convinces you that he has something to teach as well about facials. just not the kind you expected (1.4k)

trouble ⸻ gojo x reader ★

an unexpected tutoring session with your bully satoru gojo leads to somewhere...unexpected (4.2k)

we're cool for the summer! ⸻ gojo x reader ★

on your way to meet your girlfriends on your summer vacay, you encounter an unforeseen obstacle: parallel parking. It’s good you have a hot beach boy ready to help you park! maybe you’ll give him a kiss or a bj or two to thank him for his effort… (1.4k)

sukuna ryomen.

so i know who i'm looking at! ⸻ sukuna x reader ★

on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives (3.1k). part of kinktober 2024!

toji fushiguro.

finish her! ⸻ toji x reader ★

you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) (3.8k). part of kinktober 2024!

multiple (seperate)

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE! ⸻ multiple (SEPERATE) x reader ★

jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! (4.1k)

back to the kitty, cause she's kinda pretty! ⸻ multiple (SEPERATE) x reader ★

jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! (pt 2) (3.5k). part of kinktober 2024!

[prythianpages]

Love Me Like You Do | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has a bad mission and you're there to comfort him.

warnings: fluff, angst

word count: 1,887

a/n: Just something short and sweet I wrote after getting stuck on another part for this series.

Heart thudding madly against your chest, you stood at the gates of the High Lord’s riverhouse. The grand ironwork arched above you, intricate designs woven into the metal, casting shadows that danced in the late afternoon sun. The air was filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, mingling with the cool breeze coming off the nearby river.

You were tense, fingers curling and uncurling against the cute, pink cake carrier you held. A strange feeling that was becoming way too familiar for your own comfort settled into your stomach, spurred on by your concern for Cassian.

Your letters had gone unanswered for the past week and a half. You hadn’t seen him since before that, and worry began to gnaw at you. Had you done something to upset him? Or worse, had something happened to him?

It’s why you had baked a chocolate cake to have an excuse to check up on him. Taking a deep breath, you finally gathered the courage to press the buzzer. After a few moments, the gates were opening. Your legs moved almost on their own, carrying you up the cobblestoned pathway lined with neatly trimmed hedges and colorful flower beds.

As you reached the doorsteps, the door swung open, revealing the Night Court’s High Lord. Rhysand was as captivating as ever, donning that signature smile of his that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. “Y/n,” he greeted you. “What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.”

"Thank you," you reply, stepping inside the grand foyer. "I, uh, made this for Cas…”

Rhysand’s smile softened, his violet eyes twinkling with a warmth that eased some of your tension. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had ventured off into your mind or you were simply that easy to read.

“Nyx will be disappointed it’s not for him.”

“I’ll make sure Cas shares.”

“He’s not going to,” Rhysand chuckles but all amusement leaves his face as he turns his head slightly. “He’s in his study. Third room to the right. He might be in a mood. He hasn’t spoken to us much these past couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. Maybe you can figure out why he’s been avoiding us.”

**

When you reached Cassian's study, you paused, taking another deep breath before gently pushing the door open. 

Cassian stood in front of his desk, papers strewn about. His head was lowered, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned his palms against the wood. His wings drooped slightly, their usual proud arc diminished. 

His head perked up at the sound of the door. “Go away, Rhys,” he said, voice rough, as if he hadn’t used it in hours.

“It’s not him.”

"y/n?" 

You offered a tentative smile, despite the fact his back was turned to you. "I brought you something.”

“You should go.”

Setting the cake on a nearby table, you approached him slowly, giving him time to tell you to go away. If he did, you would do so. But his silence let you know that despite his words, he didn’t want you to go. 

You moved behind him, your heart aching at the sight of his tension. Cassian didn’t talk about his role as general in the Night Court much. Though he was proud of his title, he preferred to leave work at work. You knew enough to understand how jarring and exhausting his job could be—a never-ending demand to keep the Night Court’s warriors in check and ensure their readiness for any threat.

The last time he had visited your shop, he spoke about the mission he had been dreading. One that involved visiting multiple Illyrian war camps and restoring order to the recent disturbances in Illyria. The unrest there was a knot of conflict and simmering resentment. Another never-ending chaos

It was clear to you now that, that mission had gone as he expected.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, knowing just how much physical touch meant to him. It was Cassian’s main love language, and among the first things you had learned about him. You rested your cheek against his broad back, careful not to brush against his wings.

He stiffened for a moment, but then he relaxed into your embrace. You held him close, feeling his shoulders slowly unclench as you let the quiet of the moment stretch between you, not knowing just how warm and grounding your touch was to him.

“I’ve been worried about you. It’s been awhile since you visited my shop or responded to my letters. I thought you were upset with me or something happened to you…”

He let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s been…a lot. I didn’t want to burden you–”

“You’re not a burden, Cas.” You interrupt gently. “I’m here for you.”

Cassian rested his hand over where yours were crossed. You immediately pulled away from him, turning him to face you, lips pressed into a frown as you took in the bandage wrapped around one of his hands that went all the way up to his arm. The frown in your brow deepened when you also took note of the healing bruise on the left side of his face. Instinctively, you reached out a hand but Cassian turned his head and your hand fell back to your side.

"It's nothing," he says dismissively.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.” Cassian replies but when you reach out for his injured arm, fingers gently grasping his hand, he winces.

You move his hand closer to you, gaze narrowing as you assess the bandaging. It appears to be clean and fresh–no hint of that metallic scent of blood. You decide it’s best not to unravel it as whoever treated his wound already did the most one could do. Instead, you bring his hand to your mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his bandaged hand.

“y/n, what–”

“A kiss makes everything better,” you explain, smiling when you see your lipstick left an imprint on the white bandaging. Pink stardust rose from the lip stain, traveling up and down his arm, enveloping in a magic bandage of its own before seeping into the one right below it. It draws a shudder from Cassian.

Your eyes meet his. “Would you like me to kiss that bruise of yours?” You ask, tone bordering on playful.

“I’m okay,” Cassian says, voice slightly strained as he tries to maintain his composure. He decides to redirect your attention.  “I didn’t know you had healing powers.”

“It’s not so much healing, it’s really just alleviating some pains.” You tell him with a small shrug. “I should look into some healing potions and spells some more for your sake. It won’t be as great as the healers but something is better than nothing, right?”

Cassian just stared at you.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion at his intense gaze.

Cassian blinks, tearing his gaze from you momentarily as he becomes suddenly interested in your bright, pink shoes. “Eyes, a nose, a mouth…”

He looks back up, catching the way you roll your eyes. It draws a smile from Cassian. A genuine one. 

“Rhysand says you haven’t spoken to them much recently,” you say, the name of the Night Court’s High Lord still tasting foreign to your tongue. You turn one of the chairs in front of the desk to face him before settling in. You nudge his boot with yours, silently prompting him to do the same with the chair behind him.

With a sigh, Cassian slumps into the chair across from you, his usual confidence replaced by a weary demeanor. “Is that why he sent you?”

“No one sent me. I brought myself here and that chocolate cake over there.”

Cassian’s eyes light up, a spark of his usual charm returning, making you laugh. He turns his head, following your gesture. Using your magic, you float the cake carrier gently onto his lap. “Baked it myself,” you grin proudly.

“So it’s not edible then?”

“Rude!” you exclaim, flicking your wrist and sending a sprinkle of pink stardust his way. He coughs, the glimmer of your magic enveloping him briefly in a sparkling haze. “I had Moxie taste test it, so it’s very edible.”

Cassian chuckles when he opens the cake carrier to see that a slice was indeed missing.  Comforted by your words, as that young apprentice of yours was the pickiest eater, he inhales deeply, taking pleasure in the rich aroma of chocolate that invades his senses.

But the pleasure is short-lived as your pink magic closes the cake carrier with a loud snap. His face falls slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Why have you been avoiding your family?” You ask and with a bit of hesitance, you add, “and me?”

Cassian shifts in his seat. He looks down at his hands, his fingers tracing the edge of the cake carrier. “They have their own tasks to attend to, own burdens to worry about. And you? I fear I have troubled you enough with my problems. I can work through this on my own…”

You ponder on his words with a small frown. Cassian was strong-minded and sharp. You knew he could handle his own problems, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to. He was also kind, caring, and selfless—qualities you admired about him. But sometimes, he was so selfless that he left himself out of the love he had to give.

“Cas, no one loves you like I do. You’re no trouble to me at all. You’re always there for everyone so let me be here for you.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “What do you mean? I’m serious. I’m your friend.” Your voice is tinged with concern and a hint of hurt.

“Friend.” Cassian repeats the word, his tone filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“Yes,” you say, sensing his contemplation. He looks away, his jaw tightening and you can't help but shrink back into your seat. “Do you not want me to be?”

Cassian looks at you, those hazel eyes meeting yours. You catch the way his throat bobs. “It’s not that,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart skips a beat, his words hanging in the air between you. But then he shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

“I love being your friend.” 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing…” he trails off, the weight of his words making them feel inadequate. “It’s just, you can’t always be there for–”

“Nonsense,” you interrupt firmly. “I’ll always be there for you.”

For a fleeting moment, the vulnerability in his eyes is raw and unguarded, as if he’s been caught in the storm of his emotions. Then, he nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. 

But the lingering sadness in his gaze tugs at your heart, even more when he asks, “always?”

You smile warmly, reaching out to trace a finger over the center of your chest, just slightly to the left. “Cross my heart.”

a/n: This takes place sometime after you meet the IC. Sorry, I keep skipping around. I just got stuck on writing that part. So if y'all have any ideas lmk. You can find a sneak park here though.

also, if you've asked to be on the tag list and your name is below but you didn't get a notif, lmk! for some reason, some of the tags haven't been working. If you've asked to be on the tag list and don't see your name below, please let me know!

series masterlist

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[hisbuni]

ramble on, sweetheart ⊹ kid, monkey man light! nsfw content. black reader in mind but anyone can read. talks of trauma (his mothers death). kissing. him coded things. some modern au while others are set in the movie.

having kid as a boyfriend . . . would be so fulfilling but deathly worrying. he’s so attentive (just as you are to him), kind, giving, gentle, and heartfelt.

worships the ground you walk on. full hands and knees type worships.

he definitely uses those big eyes to his advantage whether he knows it or not. feel like you’ve told him about it but he continues to deny it.

saves up his money from the tournaments to not only get a gun but get you something. like a bracelet or something memorable.

greets you bloody, dripping with sweat and dirt with a closed mouth, tired smile on his face every time he comes home to you.

even comes home with small groceries that you said you needed to pick up the day after, just cause it was “on his route,” quoted him, even though he most definitely had to cross some streets and walk a little longer to get it.

doesn’t sleep a lot so listens to you breath most nights (no matter how weird it sounds). enjoys it though, makes him feel comfortable.

definitely the type to kiss your hand and wrist. goes along with the worshipping part.

doesn’t really talk much. you know he has so much to say but he doesn’t say much of it. especially when it comes down to his feelings towards certain things.

he’s easy to read though. since you’ve been in a relationship you’ve realized how important it is to just let him be quiet and watch his eyes and behavior.

makes little jokes here and there, once he’s comfortable. especially if you’re already the playful type, yeah he’s make some sarcastic jokes.

feels embarrassed about his hands at first. he most definitely felt ashamed of them and lied about what happened for the first couple weeks of your relationship.

ends it telling you the truth late at night when he can’t sleep once he realizes that he’s comfortable enough w you and he’s iinnn looovvveee.

likes to lay on your chest and let you play with his hair. side note: i just know his hair is sooo soft but is almost all the time sticky and sweaty.

thinking about how he’d love hugging you after having a panic attack. like he’s breathing heavy, arms around you tight.

feel like if you ever gave him something for like luck or just a small gift he’d take it everywhere and/or wear it everyday.

also something that’s soo him coded is having a picture of you in his wallet. like the cutest picture ever on earth, taken by him of course.

thinks you're the best thing that has happen to him in a long time and he adores you.

will just stare at you without you knowing (while you’re focusing on something else) and go “you’re gorgeous.”

there’s no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t look at another woman like he looks at you. he wouldn’t dare even share a glance to them.

during his missions, he wouldn’t get you involved unless you wanted to be.

he would consider it for a little, just because you want to but deep down he’s just wants to say no and that be the end of it.

losing you scares him and to put you in the position where he would lose you is the last thing he wants to do.

when he leaves and doesn’t know if he coming back he says, “i’ll be with you forever soon.” before kissing your lips.

adding on to the gift one, he’d even carry it during his extreme antics. can’t help but think about him waking up after being shot, at the temple, and looking around for it (if it’s not on his person).

“the picture… that was in my pocket.” he’d ask quietly to the keeper. they point to the small bed side table, kid hadn’t taken note of before. he lets out almost a sigh once he finds the picture, but can’t help but worry about how you’re feeling. a frown slightly shadowing his face. “she’s beautiful,” the keeper comments.

when they put him on the news as a wanted terrorist, and even after, he stayed away, trying to keep you safe.

in his community, he’s seen the small kids grow up and older adults have seen him do so, so he’s very particular with who he introduces them to.

and let’s say he doesn’t hesitate all that much to do so with you.

i feel like the kids would warm up to you somewhat quickly.

feel like they would give you little trinkets or flowers they found, just cause.

if you play with them and kid witnesses?? he’s not gonna say it, he swears up and down it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in his life (gets baby fever).

in the sheets, he prefers sex to be passionate and loving. feel like he fucks you like it’s the last he’ll ever see you, every time.

feel like he’d like to rough with you sometimes. maybe if he’s stressed and he always asks if you want it rougher.

he talks you through it. like my god. but like really sweetly.

he’s a tit man! just feel like he’s too shy to look at your ass but definitely not shy enough to look down your top.

[chosok-amo]

LIVE, LAUGH, VOMIT AND DIE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

your upperclassmen have been busier, leaving you all alone and lonely. but tonight they finally have some time off and decided to go on a midnight picnic together with their lovely underclassmen.

warning. drunk reader, vomit, fluff, crack, under-age drinking, very very suggestive, friend gojo kiss friend reader hehehe

MASTERLIST

these last few weeks had been bad for you. it felt like everything was off, and no matter what you did to distract yourself, the days just dragged on. you spent most of your time alone at school because your upperclassmen, gojo and geto, were busy with a long mission. especially gojo, who seemed to always be involved in something important. the absence of their chaotic energy made your days feel empty. nobody was there to get under your skin, tease you, or steal your food. there wasn’t anyone tugging your hair in the hallway or throwing a casual arm over your shoulders like you were all just some tight-knit little family.

despite how annoying they could be, you found yourself missing them more than you wanted to admit. you missed the loud laughs, the endless teasing, and even the way gojo would shamelessly swipe your food without a second thought. without them, everything just seemed too quiet. the usual chaos they brought into your day was gone, and you felt the emptiness more with each passing day.

it had been two whole weeks since you last saw them. the first few days, you convinced yourself you didn’t care—they were just a couple of annoying upperclassmen. but as time went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that started creeping in. you missed them. but you were far too stubborn to reach out. even though gojo had teased you before, saying you were just one call away if you missed them. you rolled your eyes at the memory, but a part of you held onto those words more than you wanted to.

then, almost as if the universe knew what you were thinking, your phone rang late one night. it was nearly midnight, and you were already in bed, ready to force yourself into another restless sleep. the sound of your phone buzzing startled you, and when you reached over to check the screen, your heart skipped a beat. gojo.

you couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across your face as you saw his name flash on the screen. it had been too long, and just seeing his name felt like a relief. you quickly answered, trying to sound calm, though excitement was bubbling up inside you.

“hey, guess who’s outside your school gate,” gojo’s voice came through, playful and teasing as ever.

“who?” you ask lazily, pretend not to care despite you were already sitting up, swinging your legs out of bed as you tried to process what he was saying. “me and suguru. we figured you missed us so much that we’d kidnap you for a midnight picnic,“ he said with a smirk in his voice, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you blinked, caught off guard. “a picnic? right now? it’s almost midnight!” but despite your words, you were already getting up and slipping on your shoes, too excited to care about the time or the fact that you were only wearing a simple dress. “go on, don’t keep us waiting. it’s been two weeks, you know,” gojo teased again, and you could hear geto chuckling in the background.

you hung up without another word, not bothering with a jacket or anything else. the night air hit you as you hurried out of your room and down the halls, your excitement growing with every step. you hadn’t realized just how much you missed them until now. the two people who always managed to bring chaos and fun into your life were just outside, waiting for you.

as you got closer to the school gate, you could see them standing there. gojo was leaning casually against the gate, looking as relaxed as ever, his trademark grin plastered on his face. next to him, geto stood holding a picnic basket in one hand, his other hand casually tucked into his pants pocket. their presence alone made your heart feel lighter, but you couldn’t let them know that. not yet, at least.

you slowed your pace as you got closer, deciding to play it cool. after all, they didn’t need to know how much you missed them. pretending to be annoyed, you started grumbling to yourself. “really? a midnight picnic? you two know i was about to sleep, right?” you called out as you approached, crossing your arms as you slowed to a walk. you were trying to look as unimpressed as possible, even though your heart was racing with excitement.

gojo chuckled at your comment, a smug look in his eyes as he pushed himself off the gate, stepping closer to you. “don’t bother acting all grumpy, we know you’ve been missing us.“

you rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile, but the way gojo was smirking made it harder. “yeah, right," you muttered, crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one foot. "i was actually enjoying my peace and quiet.”

geto, who was quieter and more observant than gojo, smirked. he could see the excitement in your eyes, even if you were trying to hide it. “we weren’t expecting you to come running out that quick.”

gojo snickered, leaning in closer to you. “you were in such a hurry. looks like you couldn’t even wait to change out of that little dress.” he gestured towards your dress, and a faint blush appeared on your cheeks as you self-consciously crossed your arms.

you could feel a faint blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, and instinctively, you crossed your arms tighter over your chest, glaring at gojo. “i wasn’t running,” you grumbled, shooting him a pointed look. “and i didn’t change because i was lazy, okay?”

geto chuckled softly beside you, noticing the blush on your face. his tone is much more soothing as he gives you a gentle smile. “come on now, you look great.“ he added, his tone much softer and comforting, carrying a warmth that contrasted with gojo’s relentless teasing.

you huffed, still trying to maintain your grumpy facade, but it was hard when they were both standing there, looking so smug and pleased with themselves. “whatever,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes dramatically as gojo slung his arm over your shoulder.

“sure, sure,” gojo grinned, pulling you in closer to him as the three of you began walking towards the park. “lazy, huh? you just missed us that much.”

“in your dreams,” you shot back, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words. geto walked beside you, hand in his pockets, glancing at you with a knowing smile. “it’s okay to admit you missed us,” he said quietly, his voice soft and understanding.

you scoffed, shaking your head as you walked between them. “i’m not admitting anything.”

“we’ll take that as a yes,” gojo teased, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as you continued toward the park.

the path leading to the park was quieter than usual, and the only sound was your footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves. you were sandwiched between the two boys, their presence filling the air with a familiar energy that you had missed dearly.

gojo chuckled, a mischievous tone in his voice. “you don’t have to admit it, princess.” he teased, but there was genuine fondness in the way he spoke. “we already know.” geto, who was the more observant of the two, gave a soft smile, his eyes flickering toward you. “we missed you too.”

you grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes as gojo’s teasing voice broke the quiet of the night. “shut up, i didn’t miss you,” you mumbled, didn't even bother to look at them, though the warmth in your tone gave you away.

gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying getting under your skin as always. “oh, really?” he said, his arm still slung over your shoulder like it belong there. “then why’d you come running out here so fast? couldn’t sleep without us, huh?” geto snickered quietly, giving you a side-glance. “seems like you were in such a hurry that you didn’t even bother to throw on a jacket.”

you didn’t bother responding, just grumbling under your breath as gojo’s arm remained draped over your shoulder, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you could feel his teasing gaze on you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. instead, you silently fumed, staring ahead as the three of you walked deeper into the park.

geto’s quiet snicker didn’t help either. you shot him a side glance, but he only raised an eyebrow, amused at your lack of defense. “cute,” he teased lightly, as if the sight of you rushing out without one was more proof that you had missed them.

the path was darker as you walked further into the park, the cool night air brushing against your skin, but you didn’t care. despite your best efforts to act annoyed, there was a certain comfort in being with them again, in the familiar banter and warmth they brought, even if they insisted on teasing you the whole time.

the three of you reached a quiet spot, surrounded by trees, the sounds of the city distant now. you sighed, still keeping your grumbling to yourself, but deep down, there was no denying that you were glad to be here with them again.

as you reached the secluded spot, gojo finally let go of your shoulder, a smug smirk still on his face. “welp, here we are,” he announced, gesturing to the area around you. “our little picnic spot for the night.”

geto followed suit, setting down the picnic basket and starting to unpack the contents. gojo, ever the restless one, immediately flopped down onto the grass, arms behind his head as he looked up at the night sky and sighed dramatically. “and to think we had to drag this grumpy lump all the way out here just to have some fun.”

as gojo flopped onto the grass with his usual dramatic flair, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, watching him bask in the moonlight as if he hadn’t been teasing you the entire time. “drag me out here?” you muttered, crossing your arms again. “i didn’t ask for this.”

geto, ever the thoughtful one, pulled out a soft blanket from the picnic basket and gave you a small smile. “come on, sit down,” he said gently, shaking out the blanket before laying it on the grass. “we don’t want you catching a cold, especially since you didn’t bring a jacket.”

he patted the spot in the middle, insisting you settle down between him and gojo. despite your grumbling, you found yourself giving in, mostly because the blanket looked warm and the night air had gotten a little colder.

you sat down, feeling geto tuck the edges of the blanket under you, making sure you were comfortable. “there,” he murmured, his voice soft as he sat down beside you. “much better.”

you glanced at geto, feeling the warmth of the blanket under you and the quiet care in his actions. despite your usual grumbling, you couldn’t help but soften a bit. he always had this way of making sure you were comfortable, of putting you first without making a big deal out of it. it was something you really appreciated about him, even if you didn’t always say it. “thanks, suguru,” you murmured, your voice quieter now, more genuine. you gave him a small smile, your usual tough exterior slipping just a little.

geto smiled back, his expression softer and more sincere than gojo’s usual smirk. “no problem,” he replied, settling down beside you.

gojo, lying on the grass, shifted his gaze from the night sky to the two of you. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes exaggeratedly. “awww, look at you two, being all cute and sappy,” he teased, propping himself up on his elbows. “do you want a moment alone, lovebirds?”

geto simply shot gojo a look, knowing his snarky comment was just his way of lightening the mood. he shifted closer to you, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into a comfortable position. “don’t mind him. he’s just jealous because you thanked me instead of him.”

you raised an eyebrow, watching as geto began unpacking the basket, pulling out snacks one by one, followed by an impressive assortment of alcohol bottles. your eyes widened a bit at the sight, curiosity piqued as you looked between him and the collection of drinks.

“what’s with all the alcohol?” you asked, raising your voice slightly, half-amused and half-surprised. “were you planning on getting me drunk tonight or something?”

geto chuckled at your question, a hint of mischief in his eyes. gojo snickered from his spot on the grass beside him, clearly enjoying the scene. “getting you drunk is just a happy bonus,” gojo said, his smirk widening as he reached over and grabbed one of the bottles, inspecting the label playfully. “but we figured a bit of liquid courage might help loosen that grumpy demeanor of yours.”

you narrowed your eyes at the two of them, suspicion creeping into your expression as you glanced between the bottles of alcohol and their smug faces. “really?” you said unamused, crossing your arms again as you gave them both a pointed look. “isn't the drinking age in japan like, twenty? am i even allowed to have one?”

gojo and geto both chuckled, knowing they were caught. they exchanged a glance, silently communicating between them, before breaking out into grins.

gojo spoke up first, his tone full of feigned innocence. “well... technically, you’re not supposed to drink at your age. but hey, we’re jujutsu sorcerers. we break rules all the time.” geto joined in, his smile just as cheeky. “and what’s the harm in one tiny rule-break, right? you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

geto noticed your silence and the suspicion lingering in your eyes as you glanced between them. while gojo continued to playfully nudge you, geto’s expression softened. he leaned a little closer, his voice quiet and gentle as he gave you a reassuring smile. “hey,” he murmured, catching your gaze with his calm eyes. “you’re safe with us. we’re not going to do anything to make you uncomfortable, okay? we’re just messing around.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. “it’s okay if you don’t want to drink,” he added, his smile growing a little softer. “we’re here to relax, have a good time, and protect you, as always. no pressure.” his words eased some of the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself relaxing under his calm gaze. despite the chaos gojo usually brought into your life, geto was always there to balance it out, to offer a sense of stability.

you nodded slightly, and geto’s smile widened, the warmth in his expression making it impossible not to feel safe around him. “besides,” he said, his tone lightening a bit, “if anyone tries anything, you’ve got the two strongest sorcerers looking out for you.”

you nodded, giving geto a small smile in return. “i know,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his words sink in. with that reassurance, you grabbed a bag of chips from the snacks and tore it open, the familiar salty scent hitting your nose.

without another word, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, laying back with the open bag resting on your stomach. you crunched on a chip, the sound filling the quiet night air as you stared up at the sky, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin. “you know,” you mumbled between bites, “this isn’t too bad. but don't expect me to say i missed you guys.”

gojo immediately rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gave you a knowing smirk. “oh, we know,” he teased, reaching over to steal a chip from the bag on your stomach. “but actions speak louder than words, princess.”

geto smirked, also rolling onto his side and resting his head on his hand. he always appreciated gojo’s playful nature, knowing full well it often masked his more serious side. “he’s right,” geto chimed in as gojo popped the stolen chip into his mouth. “your grumpy facade might say otherwise, but your actions betray you. you could’ve stayed in bed tonight, but you chose to come out here with us, despite being a little too dressed for a picnic.”

you rolled your eyes, pretending not to be affected by their teasing, but the corners of your lips twitched in amusement. “whatever,” you muttered, grabbing another chip and tossing it into your mouth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a real response.

gojo chuckled at your stubbornness, clearly enjoying the banter. after a moment, his tone shifted to something more genuine, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “but seriously, doll face,” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. “how have you been these past two weeks without us to annoy you?”

his question was straightforward, lacking the usual teasing edge, and it caught you off guard. you glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “uh, you know... the usual,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you focused on the stars above instead of his gaze. “just school, training, slacking off, annoyed shoko, steal her stash, you know... trying to keep myself entertained.”

gojo’s smirk widened at your answer, clearly amused at the thought of you causing chaos in the absence of him and geto. “ah, the classic routine,” he said, chuckling to himself. “sounds like you’ve been keeping our namesakes proud.”

geto, ever the more observant one, studied you for a moment, his gaze shifting from you to the stars above. “did you... miss us at all?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. “did it get lonely without us around?”

you paused for a moment, the weight of geto’s question sinking in. it was easy to brush off the feeling when you were trying to act tough, but the truth was, yes, you did miss them. “yeah,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “it did get lonely without you guys around.”

the admission hung in the air, and you could feel the tension shift slightly. you looked down at the blanket, your fingers idly picking at a loose thread. “i mean, there’s nobody there to buy me anything or make sure i eat well, now i have to used my pocket money,” you added with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “and, training alone sucks.”

gojo laughed heartily at your last comment, the sound filling the air. “ah, the struggle is real.” he said, shaking his head dramatically. “how will you ever survive without my wallet to sponsor your snacks?”

geto smiled, appreciating the honesty in your confession. “training alone would suck,” he agreed, rolling onto his back and gazing up at the stars. “can’t say i blame you. the training room would be a lot quieter without our noisy asses around.”

you chuckled at gojo’s playful lament, shaking your head. “hey, you’re the one who insists on paying every time! it’s not my fault i’m getting used to it now,” you shot back, a teasing smile on your lips. it felt good to banter back and forth like this again, like no time had passed at all.

you felt a warmth spread through you at their words. it was reassuring to know that your presence made a difference, that they enjoyed having you around just as much as you enjoyed having them around. “but yeah, i agree,” you replied, a hint of nostalgia creeping into your voice. “training alone really does suck. it’s so much more fun when you guys are there to push my buttons and make everything more chaotic.”

gojo let out another laughter-filled chuckle, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “what can i say? i like spoiling people,” he joked, giving a little shrug. “especially cute girls.” geto, ever the quieter of the two, smiled at your words. “it is more fun when you’re around,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the stars above. “even if we drive you nuts sometimes.”

gojo rolled onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms as he continued to smirk at you. “but hey, it’s all in good fun, right?” he said, his tone light and playful. “and you wouldn’t have us any other way.”

you nodded, a small smile still lingering on your lips. “sadly,” he said, playfully, your eyes shifting from the stars to him, you noticed the proximity between the two of you. his head was merely inches away from yours, his expression still wearing that playful smirk.

gojo’s smirk widened as you noticed how close he was to you, clearly enjoying your reaction. “oh come on, don't act so reluctant,” he teased, his voice slightly lower. “you know you love having us around.”

geto, not wanting to be left out of the playful banter, chimed in with a sly smile. “yeah, you're stuck with us,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. “so you might as well get used to it.”

gojo chuckled, pushing himself onto his arms to hover over you slightly. the proximity only heightened the tension between you, making the air around you feel just a little warmer. “so, doll face,” he said, his voice still laced with playfulness. “how about we make a deal.”

you hummed in response, raising an eyebrow as you tilted your head slightly to look up at gojo. the closeness between you made your heartbeat quicken, though you tried not to let it show. “what kind of deal?” you asked, curiosity mixing with amusement as you met his playful gaze.

gojo’s smirk widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “it's a simple one,” he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “i'll stop teasing you for the rest of the night if you give me one little thing in exchange.” geto, ever observant, picked up on the tension in the air and silently watched the interaction, a small smile playing on his lips.

“what do you want?”

gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying the game he was playing. he leaned in a little closer, his face mere inches away from yours. “well,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “there's something i've been wanting for a while now.”

he paused for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, his smirk more cocky than ever. “but i think it’s something you’re more than willing to give me.”

geto, now fully intrigued, watched the interaction between you and gojo with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. he knew his friend was up to his usual playful antics, and he couldn’t help but silently wonder what gojo was up to this time.

gojo’s smirk grew wider, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “so, doll face,” he repeated, his voice a little lower this time. “do you think you can give me what i want?”

you raised an eyebrow at gojo, your curiosity piqued by his cryptic words. “well, you’re gonna have to tell me what you want first,” you replied, keeping your tone casual, though the closeness between you made it harder to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin.

gojo chuckled at your response, clearly enjoying the way you were keeping your cool despite the tension between you. “ah, but where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “wouldn’t you rather i surprise you?”

geto, still watching quietly, couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at gojo’s antics. he knew his friend had something up his sleeve, and he found the whole situation quite amusing. you hummed, pretending to think about it, a smirk playing on your lips. “maybe,” you replied, your tone teasing as you glanced between gojo and geto.

gojo’s smirk widened, clearly amused by your response. “oh, you're such a tease, doll face,” he said, his voice low and flirty. “but fine, i'll give you a hint.” he shifted to lean even closer, his face almost touching yours. “what i want is something you can give me without even having to get up,” he said, his eyes flickering down to your lips again.

geto, watching the interaction, couldn't help but chuckle quietly again. he knew exactly what gojo was hinting at, but he wasn't going to interrupt the moment. he leaned back, a small smile on his lips, enjoying the show in front of him. gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued to invade your personal space. “so, doll face,” he repeated, his voice a little lower this time. “can you guess what it is?”

you looked at gojo, unfazed by his proximity, your lips curling into a slight smirk. “i’m not really in the mood for guessing games,” you replied coolly, your tone daring. “i prefer action.”

gojo's smirk mirrored your own, enjoying the challenge in your words. “oh, you like things direct, do you?” he said, his voice dripping with flirtation. “i can work with that.” he shifted even closer to you, his body almost covering yours now. “well then, doll face,” he repeated, his eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “how about i show you?”

geto, still observing the interaction, rolling his eyes, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. he knew gojo could be impulsive and unpredictable, but he also knew that you could hold your own against his friend’s relentless teasing. gojo’s smirk widened as he closed the remaining distance between the two of you, his face mere millimeters away from yours. “are you ready for that?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

you glanced at gojo, then at geto, who was still watching with that knowing smile, clearly entertained by the whole situation. after a brief pause, you let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of the moment before finally closing your eyes. “fine,” you muttered, though your heart raced just a little faster, curious about what gojo had planned. “but this better be worth it.”

gojo’s smirk turned into a full grin, clearly enjoying your response. “oh, doll face,” he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. “you have no idea.”

he took a moment to appreciate your closed eyes, the slight rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips were parted just slightly. “you look so damn cute when you’re pretending not to be curious,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. without another word, he closed the gap between your faces, his lips gently pressing against yours in a soft kiss. his hand came up to cup your cheek as he kissed you, his touch gentle yet possessive.

geto, watching from the side, couldn't help but smile at the sight of you and gojo together. he admired his friend’s boldness and your willingness to play along. he leaned back, resting his head on one hand as he continued to observe the scene unfolding in front of him.

gojo’s kiss was slow and lazy, as if he had all the time in the world to explore your lips. his tongue gently teased its way into your mouth, tasting you, as his hand on your cheek held you in place.

as gojo’s lips moved against yours, you couldn't help but notice the faint taste of alcohol lingering on his breath. the flavor was subtle but unmistakable, making you smirk slightly against his kiss. you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. “seriously?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow. “you taste like a bar.”

your comment made gojo grin even wider, clearly unfazed by your observation. “can't help it, y/n,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. “we had a few drinks before you showed up, and i needed some liquid confidence to pull this off.”

his hand still lingered on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “but don’t worry, doll face,” he continued, his smile sly. “i have no plans to get wasted tonight.” geto, laying silently to the side, couldn’t help but laugh at your little argument. “don't worry, he knows his limits,” he chimed in, amused by the banter. he leaned back in, his lips brushing against yours again, his touch becoming more insistent. “besides,” he added, his tone growing sultry. “you don’t seem to mind the taste all that much.”

you smirked at gojo’s boldness, but when he leaned in for another kiss, you placed your hands on his chest and gave him a lazily shove. “alright, that’s enough,” you said with a light chuckle. “get off, satoru.”

gojo let out a mock pout as you pushed him back, clearly enjoying the game you were playing. “aw, come on, doll face,” he protested, his tone light and playful. “i was just getting started.” he reluctantly pulled back, rolling onto his back next to you, keeping close enough to maintain the playful banter. “you’re a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?” he teased, his eyes roaming over you with a mixture of amusement and desire.

you sat up, brushing off your clothes and throwing a pointed look at gojo. “last i checked, friends don’t go around kissing each other,” you said with a teasing smirk, though there was an edge of seriousness in your voice.

gojo chuckled, clearly unbothered by your comment. “friends don’t, but we’re not just friends, doll face,” he replied, his tone still playful. “we’re so much more than that.” he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looked at you, his eyes still roaming over your figure. “besides,” he continued, his smirk growing wider. “who said we can’t have a bit of fun between friends?”

you raised an eyebrow, giving gojo a look that was half amused, half exasperated. “you two are such a bad influence on me,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you leaned back on your hands with a can of open alcohol in your lap, trying to brush off his playful advances.

gojo let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying your response. “what can i say?” he replied, his tone unapologetic. “we enjoy pushing boundaries, and you make it so damn fun to do it.” geto, smiling from where he was sitting, couldn't help but chime in. “you know you love it, doll face,” he teased, his tone affectionate. “and you secretly like being a little bad on occasion.”

you let out a small huff, trying to keep up your facade of annoyance, but secretly enjoying the banter with gojo and geto. “yeah, yeah,” you muttered, taking a sip from the can of alcohol in your hands. “you both still suck.”

gojo and geto chuckled at your attempt to downplay your enjoyment. they knew how to read you too well. “you love sucking,” gojo quipped, his tone dripping with innuendo as he threw you a sly wink. geto, always the more subtle one, gave you a small smile. “you’re too adorable when you’re pretending to be annoyed, doll face,” he said, his tone gentle yet teasing. “we know you love the game as much as we do.”

you slapped gojo’s shoulder, shaking your head with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “stop being a pervert, satoru,” you said, giving him a pointed look, though the slight smile on your lips betrayed your seriousness. then, turning to geto, you raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “i’m not pretending,” you retorted, though your tone was lighter, a playful glint in your eyes. “you two just have a way of getting under my skin.”

gojo laughed heartily at your response, clearly unfazed by your attempt to push him back. “you love it when i’m a pervert,” he teased, his tone still playful, but there was something more beneath it.

geto leaned back, crossing his arms as he watched the interaction between the two of you. “and you enjoy every second we’re under your skin,” he added, his gaze fixated on you, a smile playing on his lips. “admit it, doll face. you love the chaos we bring.”

the three of you spent the late-night picnic talking and laughing, with you doing most of the drinking. as the night wore on, the cool air settled around you, and though you tried to ignore it, your body began to shiver slightly. geto was the first to notice, his gaze softening as he saw you trying to suppress the cold with a tipsy smile. without a word, he slipped off his jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, the warmth immediately comforting against the chill.

“satoru, she’s freezing," he murmured quietly, his eyes flicking over to his friend. gojo, who had been teasing you moments earlier, looked over and saw the slight tremble in your frame. his smirk faded into a look of genuine concern as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his warmth. “should’ve told us sooner, doll face,” he said softly. “can’t have you freezing out here.”

“you really shouldn’t be wearing a dress in the middle of the night,” gojo muttered, his arm still around you as he looked down at your outfit. “at least grab a jacket next time. you’re lucky we’re here to keep you warm.”

geto chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “he’s right, you know. we should’ve made you grab something warmer before heading out. but you were in such a rush to meet us, huh?” you rolled your eyes at their teasing, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “alright dad,” you joked, giggling uncontrollably, though you were grateful for their concern.

gojo and geto shared a smile at your sarcastic remark, amused by your drunk state. they notice you started getting more drunk as you continue to drown your body with alcohol, making you a bit more relaxed and carefree than usual and a lot more giggling and emotional.

gojo smirked, finding your giggling endearing. “we just want to make sure our doll face doesn't freeze her cute butt off,” he replied, his tone still light but with a hint of protectiveness. geto chuckled at your retort, his eyes filled with amusement and affection. “yeah, we don’t want our favorite girl catching a cold from being stubborn,” he added, his expression fond.

gojo tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer to his warm chest. “plus, we both know you look cute in our clothes,” he murmured, his voice slightly lower.

your drunken giggle bubbled out as you leaned further into gojo's chest, blinking slowly as your words slurred together. “mmm, you guys always think you’re so smart…” you blabbered, waving a hand dramatically. “i can dress myself... it’s just— just— sometimes your clothes are comfier… and smell nice…” you trailed off, another soft giggle escaping as you tugged at the sleeve of gojo’s shirt, clearly enjoying the warmth around you.

gojo chuckled warmly, clearly enjoying your disoriented state. “oh, we know you can dress yourself,” he replied, his tone playful yet affectionate. “but that doesn’t mean we can’t have the urge to baby you a little, doll face.”

geto, sitting next to you, was fighting back a smirk as he watched you, clearly amused but also incredibly fond. “besides, it’s not just the comfort and the smell,” he chimed in, his voice gentle but with a hint of teasing. “it’s also the fact that we like seeing you wearing our clothes, doll face.”

you giggled, lifting the can for another sip, but before it reached your lips, geto’s hand gently stopped yours. “alright, that’s enough, y/n,” he said, his tone firm yet caring as he smoothly took the can from you. “i think you’ve had more than enough fun for one night.”

you pouted, your eyes half-lidded and your cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “but i was jus’ getting started,” you slurred, a giggle bubbling up again as you leaned your head against gojo’s chest, your body swaying slightly. gojo chuckled, wrapping an arm more securely around you. “yeah, and if you keep going, we’ll be carrying you home, princess,” he teased, glancing at geto as they both shared an amused look.

geto smiled, setting the can aside before gently brushing a thumb over your cheek. “you’ve had a good time, and now it’s our turn to take care of you.” geto glanced at his watch, raising an eyebrow. “it’s almost three a.m.,” he muttered, looking over at gojo with a small sigh. “we better get her to dorm before she passes out.”

you frowned, trying to sit up but immediately swayed, your head falling back onto gojo’s shoulder. “i don’t wanna go,” you slurred, pouting as you tried to argue. “it’s... nice here. we should... stay longer.” gojo chuckled softly, his arm keeping you upright. “y/n, you can’t even keep your head straight without using me as a pillow,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you’ve had your fun. let us take you back, okay?”

geto nodded, agreeing with gojo’s assessment. “he's right, y/n,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “you’re clearly beyond tipsy right now and trying to get you back with as much dignity intact as possible is going to be hard enough.”

he smiled gently at your protest, though he could tell it was mostly the alcohol talking. “we’ll have plenty of nights just like this,” he assured you, his hand still resting on your cheek. “but right now, you need to let us take care of you.”

neither gojo nor geto paid any mind to your protests, already moving to help you stand. gojo slipped an arm under your shoulders, steadying you as you wobbled a bit. “come on, doll face, let’s get you home,” he said with a chuckle, his tone still teasing but soft.

geto grabbed the jacket draped over your shoulders, his smile widening as you giggled at his request. “hands up,” he instructed, waiting for you to follow through.

with a light laugh, you complied, your arms lifting into the air. geto gently slid his jacket over your arms and shoulders, adjusting it properly to keep you warm. “there you go,” he murmured, brushing off the sleeves. “all set.”

gojo grinned at the sight of you wrapped up in geto’s jacket, shaking his head. “you look adorable,” he added, his voice full of affection. geto chuckled softly as he stuffed the last of the trash into the basket, watching gojo struggle to keep you from wandering off. “you’ve got your hands full, huh?” he teased, glancing at his friend.

gojo rolled his eyes playfully, tightening his grip around you. “you have no idea.” once geto finished cleaning, gojo looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. “you think you can walk, doll face?”

you nodded enthusiastically, pulling away from his hold and attempting to walk. but before you even took two steps, your foot caught on the uneven grass, sending you tumbling face-first into the ground. gojo and geto both burst out laughing, though they quickly moved to help you up. “well, that answered the question,” gojo said between chuckles, kneeling beside you. “maybe walking’s not your best option right now.”

gojo chuckled softly after helping you back up, shaking his head. “you’re something else, doll face,” he muttered with a grin. noticing the length of your dress, he quickly took off his blue button-down shirt that he’d been using as an outer layer, carefully wrapping it around your waist to cover you up.

“can’t have you showing off something you’re not supposed to,” he teased, though his tone held a protective edge. once the shirt was securely tied, he crouched down in front of you. “alright, hop on,” he said, motioning for you to get on his back.

you giggled as you wobbled slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him lift you with ease. gojo stood up, holding you securely on his back, while geto smirked, gathering the last of your things. “better safe than sorry,” geto remarked, watching as gojo adjusted his grip on you. “besides, she’s probably gonna fall asleep before we even make it home.”

gojo grinned, feeling your head already resting against his shoulder. “yeah, but at least she’ll be warm and covered up,” he said, starting to walk.

geto fell into step beside gojo as he carried you on his back, occasionally stealing glances at you. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, wrapped up in gojo’s shirt and his own jacket, your head resting against his friend’s shoulder. you looked so cute and vulnerable that it only heightened his protective instincts.

he couldn’t help but chuckle as you snuggled into gojo’s back, clearly getting comfortable. “she’s already halfway asleep,” he commented, his tone fond. “bet she won’t even remember this in the morning.”

hearing geto’s words, you didn’t say anything, only letting out a soft hum as you rested your cheek more comfortably against gojo’s shoulder. the warmth from his body, along with geto’s jacket wrapped around you, made you feel cocooned in safety. even in your drunken haze, you could feel how much they cared for you—more than you could express at the moment.

the thought flickered through your mind, a drunken blur, that despite how annoying they could be, they always looked out for you. they didn’t try to get you drunk for anything malicious or shady. they just wanted you to have fun, to relax, to forget about everything for a while. and they were here, right now, making sure you were safe, taking care of you, even though you were a mess.

a small, sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you felt grateful for their presence, too tired to say anything but comforted by the fact that they always had your back. you smiled softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you murmured, “you two… always been so nice to me…” your words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but the sincerity behind them was clear, forcing yourself to voice your gratitude.

gojo’s grip tightened around you as he heard your sleepy words, touched by the way you were trying to express yourself despite your drunk state. he glanced back at geto, silently conveying his own agreement with a small nod.

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head as he heard your slurred words. “you’re just saying that because you’re drunk, doll face,” he teased, though there was a hint of affection in his voice.

gojo couldn’t help but smile, his chest swelling with a mixture of emotions. “yeah, no way you’d be that sweet when you’re sober,” gojo added, his tone playful yet also fond. “you’re always so feisty and stubborn, but here you are, being all soft and adorable.” he glanced back at geto, who was watching you with a smile of his own. “though, it’s not like we mind. we like taking care of you. even when you’re a damn mess.”

you giggled softly between hiccups, your voice coming out in a mix of amusement and vulnerability. “maybe… and maybe i’ll regret saying this when i’m sober…” you paused for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts, before continuing in a low, almost shy tone. “but… i feel grateful to have you both in my life.”

gojo and geto’s footsteps momentarily faltered upon hearing your unexpected praise, clearly caught off guard by your vulnerable admission. they exchanged a quick glance, both trying to hide the mixture of surprise and warmth that filled their hearts.

gojo chuckled softly, his tone tinged with a hint of disbelief. “well damn, doll face, you know just how to surprise us, huh?” he teased, keeping his voice light to mask the sudden rush of emotions. “who knew you could be so damn sweet when you’re drunk?”

geto let out a small scoff, still trying to process your words. “maybe we should get you drunk more often,” he joked, unable to resist the temptation to tease you. but behind his lighthearted words, he could feel a wave of emotions surging through him. he’d never heard you say anything quite like that, and the fact that you were expressing it now, in this vulnerable state, only made it feel all the more significant.

gojo’s grip on you tightened slightly as he continued walking, the small action betraying the emotions churning inside him. “and here we thought you were too stubborn to admit something like that,” he commented, his tone a mix of mock surprise and affection.

geto couldn’t help but chime in, his own words carrying a hint of gentle ribbing. “yeah, doll face. you’ve been holding out on us. why didn’t you mention how grateful you are for us before?”

you stirred slightly at their teasing, your voice soft but slurred as you responded, “don’t… don’t go anywhere, okay?” your words carried a hint of vulnerability that was unusual for you, even in your drunken state while your arms tightened around gojo’s neck. “promise me… just stay with me.”

gojo and geto’s teasing smiles faded upon hearing the raw vulnerability in your voice, replaced by a mix of concern and affection.

gojo’s hand tightened around you, his heart clenching at your plea. “we’re right here, y/n. we’re not going anywhere,” he assured you, his tone gentle yet firm. geto reached out, his hand running gently through your hair as if to offer reassurance. “we’ll always be here for you. you don’t have to ask us to stay,” he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness.

geto saw as you continued to rest your cheek on gojo’s shoulder, but then you started to pucker your lips, and they began trembling before you broke down completely. tears spilled from your eyes as you expressed how hard it was for you at school without them, tightening your arms around gojo’s neck in a desperate attempt for comfort.

“it’s just so hard without you two,” you sobbed, your voice muffled against gojo’s shirt. “i feel so alone sometimes, and everything just gets overwhelming. i miss you both so much when you’re not there and everyone always pissing me off.”

geto’s expression shifted from concern to a gentle mix of amusement and warmth as he watched the dramatic flip your demeanor had taken. he couldn't help but chuckle softly. “there it is,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “the alcohol really knows how to bring out the feelings, doesn’t it?”

gojo’s shoulders sank slightly as he listened to your tearful confession. he’d never seen you so emotionally vulnerable, and it was a stark reminder of the weight you carried on your shoulders.

“sshhh… it’s okay, doll face,” he soothed, his voice a soft murmur as he adjusted his grip on you, holding you even closer. “we’re here now, and we’re not going anywhere.” geto chuckled softly, his hand gently tousling your hair. “yeah, the alcohol definitely does that. you’re a real emotional mess right now.”

you continued to blubber, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. “it’s just… it’s so hard!” you slurred, your words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. “people are sooo annoying, and i’m just tryna keep it together, but… but it feels like everything’s falling apart!” your voice cracked, and you tightened your grip around gojo's neck, burying your face against his shoulder, the warmth of his body a comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

gojo couldn’t help but laugh softly at your state, the sound light and playful as he gently shook his head. “you’re such a crybaby right now,” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

a small chuckle escaped from geto, who couldn't help but find your drunken state endearing. he knew you were usually tough and composed, so seeing you so emotional and vulnerable was a sight he couldn’t resist ribbing you for.

he smirked slightly, his hand still running gently through your hair. “yeah, doll face, you’re really letting it all out now, huh?” he teased, his tone a mix of amusement and affection.

gojo couldn’t help but join in, his own voice tinged with warmth and familiarity. he chuckled again, the sound gentler this time. he gently patted your thigh on his arm, his voice filled with a mix of affection and banter. “you’re acting like the world is ending, doll face. but you know we’re not going anywhere. you’re stuck with us.”

a soft groan escaped your lips as the whirlwind of emotions and alcohol started to catch up with you. your stomach churned uneasily, and you made a sound that sent a flicker of concern across both their faces. “uh-oh…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but the warning was clear enough. “i think i’m about to throw up…”

gojo’s eyes widened in alarm as your words registered, his playful demeanor instantly replaced by genuine panic. “wait, what?!” he exclaimed, his grip on you tightening as if that could somehow prevent the impending disaster. “don’t you dare throw up on me! i just wrapped my shirt around you!”

geto, meanwhile, paled slightly as he heard your warning. “oh lord, not on my jacket,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of panic. both of them knew from experience that dealing with a drunk person who was throwing up was never a fun time.

gojo glanced at geto, a mixture of worry and annoyance etched across his features. “great, just what we needed,” he muttered, his tone tinged with resignation. “now what?”

you felt the pressure building in your stomach, and instinctively, you pressed your lips into a tight line, your expression shifting from emotional to desperate in an instant. the gagging sounds escaped you involuntarily, and you shot a pleading look at gojo, silently begging him to understand the urgency of the situation.

gojo noticed the shift in your demeanor immediately. his eyes darted back to geto, who looked equally alarmed. “uh, satoru…” geto started, his voice low, “i think she really can’t hold it anymore.”

gojo’s heart raced as he processed your silent plea. “okay, okay,” he muttered, shifting you slightly so he could support you with one arm while he lowered you to the ground. “just hang on a second, we’re gonna get you—”

the moment your feet touched the grass, you bent forward, unable to hold back any longer. the sounds of retching filled the air as you lost the battle against your stomach, the contents of your stomach spilling onto the ground.

gojo’s eyes widened in horror as he jumped back instinctively. “no, no, no!” he exclaimed, quickly covering his nose with his shirt and stepping away. “not on my watch!”

geto, though slightly more composed, grimaced and held his jacket that still cling to your body so the vomit didn't get to the fabric, trying to shield it from the chaos unfolding. “please aim away from me!” he called out, half-amused and half-concerned, though he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

as the wave of nausea passed, you felt a mix of embarrassment and relief, your eyes watering slightly from the effort. you straightened up slowly, panting as you tried to regain your composure, glancing up at your two friends. “sorry…” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

gojo's shock slowly shifted to annoyance as the reality of the situation sank in. “ugh, that’s just great,” he muttered, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. he clutched his shirt tightly against his nose, as if that could shield him from the smell.

geto, on the other hand, struggled to contain his laughter, the sight of the situation too ridiculous to ignore. “oh man, that’s just priceless,” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “you really couldn’t hold it in, could you, doll face?”

you opened your mouth to respond, only to raise a finger as you realized another wave of nausea was crashing over you. “wait—just a minute,” you managed to say weakly, but before you could finish, you bent down again, grasping the electric pole beside you for support.

gojo and geto both groaned in disgust, instinctively recoiling slightly at the sight, but their instincts kicked in immediately. gojo tightened his grip on the shirt around your waist, while geto held his jacket close to your body, determined to keep it safe from the mess.

“oh, come on!” gojo exclaimed, a mix of exasperation and concern in his voice as he held your hair back with one hand, making sure it stayed out of your face. “this is not how i envisioned tonight going!”

geto couldn’t contain his laughter, even as he grimaced at the situation. “this is a wild ride, i’ll give you that,” he said, trying to keep the mood light despite the stench that lingered in the air. “just remember, we still love you, even when you’re a walking disaster.”

as you heaved again, the world around you faded for a moment, your focus narrowing to the relief of letting it all out. you felt gojo’s gentle grip on your hair and the warmth of geto’s jacket against your skin, a comforting reminder that they were there for you, even in your most vulnerable moments.

through your tears and nausea, you continued to heave, your body wracked with the effort. “don’t look at me!” you managed to cry out between gasps, your voice trembling as you felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. “i swear, i’m going to kill you both if you look!”

both gojo and geto couldn’t help but chuckle at your threat, knowing full well that it was an empty one given your current state.

“oh relax, doll face,” geto responded, a trace of amusement in his voice. “you’re not exactly radiating a sexy glow right now. we’re too busy holding onto you to look at you in that way.” gojo joined in, a sardonic smirk on his face. “yeah, we’re more concerned about avoiding your vomit shower than checking you out.”

as your body convulsed with the force of your heaves, gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy mixed with the disgust. he leaned in a little closer, his tone a strange mixture of comfort and concern. “just let it all out, doll face. you’ll feel better once you get it all out of your system.”

geto chimed in again, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “yeah, go ahead and make a mess. we’re still holding our noses here, so keep doing your thing.”

as you continued to cry and throw up, the embarrassment washed over you in waves, but the reassurance of their presence somehow made it a little more bearable. you could feel their concern even without looking at them, and despite your irritation, a small part of you appreciated the way they stood by you in such an embarrassing moment.

after a few more moments, you finally began to feel the nausea subside, and you leaned against the pole, panting heavily. “i’m never drinking again, this is the last,” you vowed weakly, wiping your tears and taking a moment to catch your breath, feeling both drained and slightly relieved.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, both of them raising an eyebrow at your declaration. “yeah, sure,” gojo drawled, a mix of skepticism and mockery in his voice. “and pigs will fly next. we’ve heard that one before, doll face.”

geto chuckled softly, his hand still holding onto the jacket to keep it safe from the mess. “you wouldn’t be the first one to swear off alcohol after a night like this. let’s see if you remember that promise in the morning.”

as you started to lower yourself to the ground, oblivious to the fact that you were about to sit right in your own mess, both gojo and geto sprang into action. “no, wait!” gojo shouted, his voice rising in panic as he lunged forward, grabbing your arm just in time. “don’t sit there!”

geto’s eyes widened in horror as he quickly pulled you back, his face contorting in disgust. “what the hell are you doing? are you trying to ruin my jacket too?” he exclaimed, his tone a mix of urgency and frustration. “you have zero sense of awareness, you know that?” gojo continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re such an idiot, doll face! do you want to stain my shirt too?”

the two of them groaned in unison, exasperated yet amused by the absurdity of the situation. gojo pulled you back against him, ensuring you didn’t accidentally land anywhere near the spot where you’d just thrown up. “let’s just get you cleaned up before you make this even worse,” geto said, a hint of laughter in his voice despite the annoyance. “you really are a mess tonight.”

your lips pursed into a pout as you felt their grip tighten around you, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up inside. “you’re both so mean,” you complained, your voice still shaky from the tears and the alcohol. “i’m just trying to sit down!”

as they guided you toward the nearby convenience store on the other side of the road, your arms fell on your side, you shot them a sideways glance, your eyes narrowing slightly.

gojo couldn't help but roll his eyes at your complaint, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. “oh, stop whining, doll face. you're the one who decided to make a mess and then tried to sit in it. we're just trying to keep you from completely destroying our clothes and our sanity.”

geto chuckled, his arm wrapped around your waist as he helped you walk toward the convenience store. “yeah, we might be mean, but you’re certainly not making it easy on us. you’re like a walking disaster zone right now.”

gojo’s playful smirk faded for a moment as he took in your state—disheveled hair, tear-streaked cheeks, and the lingering remnants of your earlier mishap. a flicker of concern crossed his features as he realized just how vulnerable you looked.

“alright, hold on a second,” he said, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts. “i’ll buy her some water. you just… stay here and try not to let her fall over or anything.” he gave you a pointed look, trying to convey the seriousness of his words despite the playful undertone in his voice before looking at geto.

geto nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly to steady you. “yeah, no problem. just hurry up before she decides to do something else ridiculous.”

with that, gojo turned and headed towards the convenience store, leaving you and geto alone for a moment. geto sighed, his gaze fixed on you as he tried to figure out how to keep you stable and maintain a semblance of composure.

geto looked down at you, his heart aching a little at the sight. your head rested against his chest, the warmth of your body a stark contrast to the cool night air. your cheeks were flushed a bright red from the alcohol and tears, making you look even more vulnerable.

he couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head slightly. “look at you... such a mess,” he murmured, pulling out his handkerchief from his pants pocket. the fabric was soft against your skin as he gently wiped your tear-streaked cheeks and the remnants of your earlier outburst from around your mouth.

“just breathe, okay?” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring as he focused on cleaning your face. when he notices your sniffles, his expression softens further. “there, there, don’t cry, doll, you will be alright,” he reassured you, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek as he finished wiping away the last traces of your tears.

geto felt a surge of protectiveness toward you; he wanted nothing more than to ensure you felt safe and cared for in that moment. “you’re going to be alright, princess. we’ve got you,” he added, his voice warm and soothing, hoping to ease your discomfort and bring you a bit of comfort amidst the chaos.

you looked up at geto through your lashes, a mixture of drunkenness and vulnerability making your eyes glossy and unfocused. the coolness of his handkerchief against your skin helped to anchor you in the present moment, his gentle touch and soothing words creating a small bubble of safety in the midst of the chaos.

a shaky breath escaped your lips, and you leaned into his touch, seeking comfort in his presence. your voice was small and wavering as you spoke. “sorry,” you whisper.

geto’s expression softened further as he heard the apology in your voice. he knew that deep down, you were likely feeling embarrassed and vulnerable in your current state. knowing you, he could only imagine the range of emotions running through your mind in this chaotic night.

he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, his tone laced with affection as he shook his head slightly. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you gently. “you’ve had quite a night, and your body’s just trying to cope with all the poison you poured into it.”

gojo emerged from the convenience store, a satisfied grin on his face as he held a cold water bottle in one hand and a mint candy in the other. he spotted you and geto, who was still attending to your emotional state, and made his way over with a sense of purpose.

“look what i got,” he announced, waving the water bottle playfully. “water to rehydrate and a mint to freshen up that mouth of yours. you definitely need it after that little incident.”

he bent slightly down to your level, the playful banter returning to his voice. after opening the cap, he lifted the bottle to your lips, tilting it gently so you could take a sip. “drink slowly. i don’t want you to choke on it,” he advised, his tone light yet caring.

you followed his instructions, sipping the water slowly and appreciatively. the coolness of the liquid brought a sense of relief, washing away the unpleasant aftertaste left by your earlier fiasco.

despite his initial banter, gojo’s voice carried a subtle hint of concern. he was clearly trying to balance the situation with his usual playfulness. “yeah, that’s it, doll face. drink up. you don’t want to be dehydrated on top of everything else.”

geto chuckled, watching as gojo took charge of taking care of you. his eyes followed the movement of the water bottle as it touched your lips, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he knew that deep down, underneath the banter and the quips, gojo was genuinely concerned for your well-being. the fact that he was putting on a lighthearted front for your sake didn’t escape him.

once you had a good amount of water in you, he pulled the bottle away, holding it securely in one hand. with the other, he offered you the mint candy, grinning as he watched you process what he was doing. “here, try this. it’ll help with the aftertaste,” he said, his expression softening as he focused on you, ensuring you felt cared for amidst the chaos of the late night.

you let out a relieved sigh as the cool, minty flavor spread across your tongue, washing away the remnants of the previous unpleasantness. “thanks, satoru,” you murmured, your voice still slightly wobbly but grateful.

as you thanked him, gojo's expression softened even further. the sight of you, still vulnerable but slowly regaining some semblance of composure, tugged at his heart a little. he reached out, gently patting your head affectionately. his other hand stuffed the water bottle into his pocket, his usual casual attitude on display. “don’t mention it, doll face. just trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity after that shitshow.”

geto chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “spoken like a true friend,” he teased, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “always looking out for others, even when they’re a hot mess.”

you groaned, burying your face against geto's chest in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, your cheeks still flushed from both the alcohol and the earlier crying. leaning your head back against him, you let out a soft sigh, wishing you could just disappear for a moment.

geto chuckled again, his voice playful and teasing. “come on, it’s not that bad. you’ve had a rough night, but at least you’ve got us to help you through it.” he glanced down at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “so, are you ready to head back to the dorm yet? or do you need more time to wallow in your embarrassment?”

you lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. the warmth in his eyes made you feel a bit better, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “i guess i’m ready... but only if you promise to carry me, i don’t think i can walk,” you replied, trying to lighten the mood despite the lingering embarrassment and hide your lazily by pretending.

geto let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “you are so annoying, you know that?” he teased, his voice laced with playful frustration. “a real pain in the ass. but fine, i guess i can’t just leave you here to wallow in your own mess.”

but despite his annoyance, he crouched down in front of you, giving you a frown as he gestured for you to hop on. “alright, but be quick about it. i don’t have all night, and if you don’t hurry, i’m just going to make you walk your ass back to the dorm,” he said, his tone half-serious but filled with laughter.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, the embarrassment fading a little as you realized how lucky you were to have such supportive friends. you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes as you scrambled to climb onto his back, finally letting out a breath of relief. “thanks, suguru. you’re the best,” you murmured, feeling a little less embarrassed now that he was there to support you.

geto's shoulders shook slightly with laughter as he felt you climb onto his back, the familiar weight of you bringing a sense of comfort. “yeah, yeah,” he replied, his voice filled with mock arrogance. “and don’t you forget it.”

he stood up slowly, lifting you with ease despite the alcohol still coursing through your system. he patted your legs lightly, ensuring that you were secure before he started walking down the sidewalk with gojo at his side. “just lean on me alright?” he said, tone gentle but firm, “and don’t make a mess of my clothes this time,” he added before slowly, lifting you with ease.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he glanced sideways at the two of you. “you’re such a little diva, doll face,” he teased affectionately, his tone light and playful. “making us do all the work while you just cling onto us and make a mess like a koala.”

you chuckled softly, the warmth of geto's presence making you feel a little more at ease. “that’s what friends are for, right? to kiss, spoil, and carry me on their backs,” you replied with a playful smirk, relishing the banter between the three of you.

geto raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. “kiss, huh? i don’t remember signing up for that,” he joked, his voice dripping with sarcasm while he kept walking steadily. “maybe i should start charging you for all this ‘friendship’.”

gojo laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “yeah, right! you’d be broke in a week with how much she asks for,” he chimed in, glancing back at you with a teasing grin. “nut i guess it’s only fair since you’re the one putting in all the hard work tonight. plus, you’ve got us looking after you. just be careful with all that diva energy; it might get you into trouble.”

you grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wrap around you like a warm blanket. “trouble? me? never!” you replied with an exaggerated gasp, leaning a little more against geto as he carried you. “i’m just a delicate flower that needs constant care!”

as you leaned against geto and spoke with a melodramatic tone, gojo just rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “oh, of course. because you’re the epitome of innocence, doll face. a perfect angel, never causing any trouble at all,” he chuckled, his steps matching the steady rhythm of geto’s strides. “yeah, just keep telling yourself that, doll face. as if we haven’t seen you cause chaos for shits and giggles before.”

you pouted, your voice soft as you mumbled, “so mean...” before falling silent. the teasing had taken its toll, and the exhaustion from the night was finally catching up with you. without saying another word, you rested your cheek against geto’s shoulder, feeling the comforting rhythm of his steps.

gojo noticed the shift in your demeanor and chuckled a little. “looks like the bantering wore her out, huh?” he said, glancing over at geto with an amused smile.

geto, who was comfortably carrying you on his back, felt your weight against his shoulders. he shot a glance over his own shoulder at you, noticing how you had quieted down. a small, subtle smile tugged at his lips at the sight of you resting your cheek against him, the exhaustion written all over your face.

“i think she’s finally hit her limit,” he replied, his voice quieter now, concern seeping into his tone as he glanced ahead, ensuring the path was clear. gojo nodded in agreement. “yeah, no doubt about it. looks like she’s all tuckered out after all that mischief.” the both of them continued their journey in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the gentle rustle of the night wind and the soft echo of their footsteps on the pavement beneath them.

they finally reached your dorm room, gojo pulled the key from his pocket, the one he had copied with your permission for situations just like this. with a click, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning on the light with a quick flick of his fingers. the warm glow of the room filled the space, casting a soft, welcoming light.

geto, who had been carrying you on his back the entire way, walked deeper into the room, his steps careful as he approached your bed. he gently lowered you onto the mattress, making sure not to wake you as your body sank into the soft sheets. his hand lingered for a moment, brushing some hair away from your face as you slept, your breathing steady and peaceful.

gojo leaned against the wall beside your bed, watching the scene with a faint smile. “looks like she’s out cold. at least we won’t have to deal with any more drunk rambling,” he remarked quietly, though his tone was more affectionate than teasing now.

geto chuckled softly, his voice matching the quiet of the room, as he stepped back from the bed. “yeah, not so much as a peep,” he said, shaking his head slightly, his gaze still on your sleeping figure.

gojo walked over to the side of the bed, his eyes scanning your peaceful expression. the playful banter and teasing that always came so naturally to him were replaced by a softened expression—an indication of his genuine concern for you. “she’s lucky to have ‘friends’ like us, watching out for her.”

geto chuckled, his laughter soft as he knelt beside the bed, carefully slipping off your shoes and socks. “nah, lucky’s not the word,” he disagreed, glancing at gojo with a wry smile. “we're just hopeless, man. let’s face it—we're not just looking out for her. we’re wrapped around her finger, whether we admit it or not.” he glanced down at you, still sound asleep, before shaking his head with a hint of fondness. “it’s not about being friends anymore, is it? we’re both just idiots with a massive crush.”

gojo let out a quiet scoff, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “speak for yourself, suguru,” he retorted, his voice filled with mock indignation. “i’m the epitome of cool, aloof detachment. i don't get wrapped around anyone’s finger.” despite his words, his gaze was fixed on your sleeping form, unable to deny the truth in geto’s statement. his expression was a mix of both annoyance and amusement.

geto rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face. “yeah, sure, satoru,” he responded sarcastically. “you keep telling yourself that. you’re about as detached as a puppy following its owner around.” he continued fussing over you, pulling a blanket over your body, making sure you were comfortable, and ensuring you were safe. all while simultaneously shooting gojo a knowing look, as if to say “you’re not fooling anyone.”

gojo grumbled a little, his expression a mix of annoyance and stubbornness. “psh, whatever. i just have a strong protective instinct,” he retorted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he watched geto, his eyes following his every move as he took care of you. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance at geto’s smugness, but he knew deep down that he was right.

“i just like to make sure she’s safe, that’s all,” he mumbled, the defensiveness in his voice hinting at his deeper feelings towards you. “and i’m just here because i don’t trust you to look after her by yourself. someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

despite his denial, gojo walked over to your little vanity, grabbing a cotton pad and some cleansing water he didn’t know the name of but recognized from seeing you use it often to clean your face and remove your makeup.

he sat by the edge of the bed, the cotton pad in hand, and glanced at geto. gojo huffed, clearly not liking the amused look on geto's face. “what? i’m just being practical here,” he shot back, his brows furrowing as he held the cotton pad and water bottle in his hands like a shield against geto's teasing.

“you know how she gets about her skin. if she wakes up with her makeup still on, she’s going to complain about it in the morning and bleed our ears off,” he added, a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. “you know how she gets about that stuff—like, ‘oh my god, i’ll get a pimple!’”

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head at gojo’s words. “yeah, yeah, mister practical over here,” he teased, watching with amusement as gojo started to clean your makeup-smudged face. “just admit it, you care too much about her even when she’s too drunk to care. and you can’t stand the thought of her complaining about it in the morning.”

his eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. “you’re wrapped around her finger just as much as i am, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it, can you?” gojo shot geto a glare, his eyes narrowing slightly at the comment. “shut it, would you?” he grumbled, focusing his attention on the task at hand.

he gently dabbed the cotton pad, soaked in the cleansing water, against your face, meticulously removing every trace of makeup. his touch was surprisingly gentle considering the gruffness in his voice. his fingers careful against your skin, trying not to be too harsh.

“i just don’t want to hear any whining in the morning,” he muttered, his voice still defensive. “and i can’t stand the thought of her waking up looking like a raccoon.”

geto chuckled again at gojo’s words, his eyes never leaving his friend. “sure, that’s all it is. you’re just doing it for practical reasons,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “if it was about avoiding whining, why not just let me deal with it? i can handle a few complaints in the morning. but nooo, you had to step in and become mr. cleanse-your-face-with-gentle-tender-care.”

gojo’s mouth opened, clearly ready to fire back a retort, but the moment you stirred, both he and geto froze. their eyes darted to you as you shifted slightly in your sleep before settling back down. the room was dead silent for a moment, gojo holding his breath, waiting to see if you’d wake.

when you didn’t, gojo shot a glare at geto, who was still kneeling by the bed with an amused smirk on his face. without hesitation, gojo kicked him—not too hard, but enough to make geto stumble slightly and fall backward onto the floor.

“shut up,” gojo hissed, his tone sharp but low enough not to disturb you.

geto, lying on the floor, looked up at him with a wide grin, chuckling softly as he rubbed his side where gojo had kicked him. “jeez, you really are on edge tonight,” he teased, his voice barely a whisper, though the amusement in his tone was undeniable.

gojo grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes as he tried to keep his focus on you. “just be quiet,” he muttered, glaring at the man before continue to clean your face while geto continued to laugh quietly from his spot on the floor.

“you know, you’re just proving my point,” geto chuckled, pulling himself up from the floor and sitting back down. “you’re so concerned about keeping her happy even when she's unconscious. if it was just about avoiding bitching tomorrow, you’d just let me deal with it.”

his eyes watched as you slept, his expression slightly softer than usual. “but no, you’re going all out on the whole gentle-care routine. you can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.” he moved off the floor, leaning in to fix stray hairs that had fallen out of place, tucking them behind your ear. geto leaned over to place a soft kiss on your forehead, his voice barely a whisper. “sweet dreams, doll face.”

gojo move slightly on the edge of the bed, a weary sigh escaping him. the long day was catching up to him, evident in the way he rubbed his face before slumping down. he glanced at geto, his tone filled with both exhaustion and exasperation. “i should kick your ass for that, man. but i’m too tired to do anything.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head as he watched gojo’s dramatic display. “yeah, yeah, satoru. you’re real tough when you’re not exhausted,” he teased, his voice quiet. “but alright, i’ll cut you some slack this time. just try not to be too grumpy in the morning. i can’t handle your mood swings on top of doll face’s hangover tantrum.”

he looked over at you, his expression softening a little. “it’s always something with her, isn’t it?” he said, a trace of fondness in his voice.

gojo raised an eyebrow, his exhaustion making his expression even more deadpanned than usual. “psh, don’t pretend like you’re exempt from the drama. i’ve seen you and her both get into more trouble than a pair of monkeys on a sugar high. and we both know who’s the one who always ends up being the responsible one, bailing your asses out.”

he leaned back on the headboard, propping his feet up on the bed beside you. “seriously, between your combined forces of chaos and her uncanny ability to draw in trouble, you two are bound to make my life a living hell one of these days.” despite his words, gojo pulls a blanket over your body before leaning down gives you a kiss on the forehead.

geto watched gojo with a soft smile, his teasing momentarily replaced by a more tender expression. “alright, i gotta give it to you; that was sweet. but i bet ten bucks she’s gonna wake up and start whining about her hangover and blame it on us.”

[moonlight-prose]

I think that Logan would enjoy (more than he should) his s/o or crush or situationship telling him they’re proud of him

He needs to hear it

oh this ask is truly filthy. because can you imagine his reaction?? priceless. but also why is he hard and why is his heart twisting violently in his chest???

It's after a party. A Wade certified good time (no cocaine involved per Disney rights) party. After saving the timeline Logan and the walking red condom of a man have been sought out to assist on "hero jobs". Or as Logan called it - paying rent.

Wade is lost in Vanessa's eyes and you're in the kitchen nursing an already warm beer. That's where Logan finds you. He greets you with a smile, a tentative how was your week, and hopes that you can't see the way his ears always turn that horrid shade of red in your vicinity.

You never do. He always wishes for the opposite.

At least then he'd have a reason to explain why he feels the way he does. Why your laughter brightens his day - your voice makes his head go the kind of fuzzy that usually only comes after a bullet to the skull. He wants you to know. Needs it some days.

If only he could see inside your head - catch the way your eyes linger on his body longer than necessary. You glance down at the belt buckles you've imagined opening time and time again. Before he turns back, handing you a freshly open cold beer.

You sip at it carefully - slow enough for his eyes to fix on your lips. How they part and mold around the top. It's not long before Logan has to adjust himself discreetly as you turn to glace at the group by the too small couch. If it were up to him, he'd ask to have your lips around something else. But as usual...he was a chickenshit.

"How was your um mission?" you ask, nerves lighting up beneath your skin. You wonder if he can hear the fast beat of your heart.

He nods. "Good. Wade and I helped out a woman being stalked."

"That's some hero work." You laugh and Logan can already see himself dropping to one knee some time in the future - a question ready to fall off the tip of his tongue. "I'm proud of you Logan."

The reaction is involuntary. Surprising if he actually thought about it for longer than a second. But the second was up and there he stood - eyes wide, lips parted, and cock throbbing at the knowledge that you...were proud of him. Every response he could have given you flew out the window the second you gave him the shock of his life.

He could stand there for hours wracking his brain and come up empty for how many times he'd heard those words in his lifetime. And he's been alive for a long fucking time.

"Thanks," he rasped, trying to fight every instinct that told him to take one more step, pin you to the counter, and kiss you until you breath ran out.

Instead he's left to flounder as you smile again, take another sip from your beer, and press a soft kiss to his cheek. Leaving him in the kitchen to join the group again, with a new issue on his hands. How the fuck was he supposed to walk back out there sporting a hard on that nearly made him light headed?

Answer: He downed his beer, grabbed a new one, and thought of Canada - and Wade. That didn't matter. One step out into the room he was locking eyes with that fucker - a shit eating smile directly on his scarred face.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 46!

another week, another rec list! before we dive in, though, i have a request: please have a look at this fic description and help anon find it!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a lighthouse in the fog | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 6.8k | T

The one where Buck wakes up after surgery and realizes that Tommy doesn't meet his emotional needs. i love the descriptions of buck and what he's feeling and experiencing here!! so so good

all my little words | youbetsya/@fleabagdiaz | 11.4k | T

Eddie: Did you just send me an email?? Buck: yeah lol (in which buck and eddie email while eddie is in el paso). email correspondence my beloved!! i love how well this captures their voices and dynamic through emails and texts. such a lovely fic <3

a straight guy and an ally walk into a bar... | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 23.2k | M

After Buck gets dumped, he remembers he agreed to go to Abby's wedding with a date. Eddie steps up and pretends to be his boyfriend. All hell breaks loose. buddie fake dating!! shenanigans!! this is unhinged and also soft and i love it so much. the scene where taylor pops up had me laughing so hard. brilliant!

bad idea, right? | brewrosemilk/@gayhoediaz| 6.8k | E

Buck stumbles across Eddie's grindr profile. no no this is the BEST idea actually. the coding is brilliant, this looks so so good, and it's also just fantastically written!

darling (you're the one i want) | archerincombat | 2.5k | G

Eddie keeps buying Buck gifts and Buck keeps not getting the idea. friends to fiances! barnes and noble! flowers! this fic has everything!! loved reading this <3

giving way to labored breath | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 1.5k | T

In which falling in love was the easy part, and learning how to actually be together is another beast entirely. They work it out. blanket rec for an author whose work i've really been enjoying this week <3 this one in particular is such a brilliant look at buck and eddie getting together <3

i could give you fifty reasons | marviless/@marviless | 15.7k | T

buck is on a mission to help eddie recover his self-confidence. it goes well for exactly zero parties involved. this might not go well for anyone who's actually involved but it went very very well for me <3 i love buck being earnest and a little embarrassing and so very full of love for eddie!!

if you love me right, then who knows? | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 3.4k | E

buck and eddie stumble upon a feminization kink, and eddie really likes his boyfriend's tits. there's something about buddie playing around with feminisation that just hits so hard. this is so so good!!

love in the shock of lightning | justhockey | 4k | T

It was real. It had happened. It had happened to Buck, and to Eddie, and to see it again…to be confronted with it so abruptly, without any time to steel himself against the memories of that night? Eddie had almost collapsed to his knees then and there. hmmm yes spec fic we love to see it!! and stress baking! loveliest emotional hurt/comfort getting together fic <3

never seen a bluer sky | Chash/@ponyregrets | 1.9k | T

"Hey, what brings you joy?" Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper. buck and eddie finding joy my beloved <3 this hits the spot just right!!

promise you'll put your hand in my hand | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 4k | T

5 times buck and eddie hold hands platonically, and 1 time they don't. holding hands <3 so fluffy so sweet so so lovely <3

put on a slow dumb show for you | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 2.3k | T

they’re sleepy and a little drunk and buck’s one step behind. do i even need to say how much i love bed sharing fics? like i think you all know that by now lmao. anyway this one in particular hits that fluff and crack spot so perfectly and i love it so very much <3

since forever | @hotshotsxyz | 1.3k

the loveliest tumblr fic!! soft and sweet indeed <3 this eddie is brilliant!

skin still wet (still on my skin) | marrows | 6.2k | E

Buck’s hand is on his thigh. Eddie chokes on his beer, eyes fixed on the curl of Buck’s fingers, tucked in just above his knee to where his skin meets the sofa. He hadn’t noticed, how hadn’t he even noticed? 8xo6 codas haven't failed me yet lol and this is one of my favourites!! it follows the episode so naturally <3 also another appearance of buck's praise kink, my best friend yay

somebody i can kiss | Rianne/@rianneeyre | 7.9k | E

Buck might be a little touch-starved. And he knew that, but he was not prepared to deal with how the knowledge would interact with his newfound awareness of his crush on—no, realistically, his undying love for Eddie. [...] The point is, he should not spend Christmas on a fucking sleepover with Eddie. But he’s gonna. christmas sleepover <3 i for one cannot wait to drown in holiday fics soon and i already know i'll be revisiting this over the next few weeks. this is soft and spicy and just absolutely brilliant <3

take the bed warmed by the body | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 2.5k | T

It’s three parts bravado and one part reminder. He thinks about it, sometimes, his first shift at the 118—he doesn’t think either of them quite knew how much they’d meant it when they’d promised to have each other’s backs. He definitely hadn’t known, then, that he’d wake up one day and wonder why Buck isn’t in his bed. i love this twist on sharing a bed so very much <3 so brilliantly them!!

that kind of music just soothes the soul | KejfeBlintz/@kejfeblintz | 1.8k | G

Settling back into the corner of his couch with a happy sigh, Eddie let the fizz of excitement from his impromptu dance party hum beneath his skin. He had done something joyful for himself and had been rewarded with his best friend and a six pack of beer appearing on his doorstep. He’d danced and the world hadn’t ended. he'd danced and the world hadn't ended!! lovely episode coda and such a well-written eddie <3

through the looking glass | jukoist | 6.4k | G

Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. the dialogue in this fic is particularly great <3 lovely lovely fic!!

[gghostwriter]

Hiya! :D

Since askbox is open, may I please order some slight hurt-comfort based off of "From Eden" by Hozier? Harnessing the pure longing this song emanates to me fr.

Something like non-BAU!reader getting hurt by an unsub during a case (non-lethal but it does require a stitch or two) and spencer gets abnormally worried about this one person among the group of victims (maybe serial bank robberies) and when the team notices it and ask him about it he reveals to them that they're actually his roommate?

something romantic-leaning; I just like the idea of him standing outside the hospital room door [OMG LIKE THE SONG] because the doctors told him to wait before he could go inside sitting there like 🥺 "My roommate :(" and getting embarassed when the team calls reader his partner; "You're so worried it's almost like you're dating." sort of feel

Sorry if this is long btw! I tend to go all out on ideas! Pronouns are up to you though, feel free to change anything to your liking as well! :]

Thanks for reading! :D

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Roommates; Comfort, Fluff, Angst w.c: 1.2k A/N: There's so much interpretation for 'From Eden by Hozier' and I had a challenging time trying to capture which meaning I wanted to encapsulate. This is also by far the longest request I've written and honestly this took a life of its own but I still hope you like it! Main masterlist

Eden. // Spencer Reid

The monotone droll in the bank was white noise in your life that you learned to slowly hate. Day in, day out it was the same thing—customers withdrawing, depositing, and claiming loans. You liked numbers, that was how you ended up as a manager, but the cookie cutter business smile you had to keep on your face was a con you wish to part from. 

You sighed. Your roommate turned secret crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, had warned you about the serial robberies that had happened within the state of Virginia and Washington. He advised you to be vigilant and if possible, to keep your phone within your reach and you easily agreed having heard some of the macabre cases he’d been involved in.

You just didn’t think it would happen today.

“Get down on the ground!” A man’s voice echoed throughout the lobby, followed by a series of gunshots.

Spencer’s voice played in your head as if he was a lighthouse guiding you out from the panic. Hide. Don’t panic. Press the hidden alarm and dial my number.

You thanked your past self for programming his contact on speed dial. Volume down and no words uttered, you hid the phone inside your blouse hoping to not get caught.

“You there!” One of the masked men caught sight of you. “Outside. Now!”

You nodded, averting your eyes to show submission. Another tactic from Spencer.

Wishing the call picked up the trio of robbers voices, you stayed facing down on the lobby surround by the rest of the hostages.

Spencer, please. Please, get my message.

Just a few miles away, tension was high in the BAU conference room. The round table littered with folders and cooling coffee mugs. The team was running on a mixture of caffeine and sheer will to solve the serial bank robber case, tagged as priority by Strauss, that had been terrorizing states for a span of months. 

Spencer raked his already unruly hair. So far, the profile was incomplete. They knew there were three in the team but with varying heights and builds in various crime scenes, even that was shaky. What they were sure of was the sick game of Russian roulette they would play with their hostages, always with one bullet in a revolver and who ever is unlucky, dies with a hole between their brows and the remaining hostages are pistol whipped to unconsciousness. 

He knew he should stay objective. He knew that but how could he, when who he considers as his secret flower was at risk every second the unsubs were at large? It was his mission to keep you safe and the chances of you being caught in the line of fire heightened each second.

Vibration from his pocket brought him out of his musings. 

It was you. Right there and then, Spencer knew it was anything but good. You never called during work hours and with the last conversation between you having been about safety, it had settled in his stomach that the worst reality had come to fruition.

He picked up without saying a word, straining his ears to hear any distinguishable background noise. That was when he heard it—the authoritative, cocky voice yelling at you to come outside. His heart dropped. 

No. No. No. Anything but this.

“Sir, we just got a call,” Penelope rushed into the conference room. “There’s a live hostage taking at—”

“—Commerce Bank. 125 Independence Boulevard,” Reid interjected.

The profilers shared a look.

“That’s right,” Penelope muttered.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at him as he hurriedly stood up and collected his belongings. “Wait Reid—” causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to face back at the team. “—How’d you know?”

“Because Y/N works there,” he promptly exits the room, hightailing it to the elevator.

Emily looked at JJ. “Who’s that?”

She shrugged, lost too on who you were.

———

The team had split into two vehicles. Hotch, Rossi, and Reid in one while Morgan Emily, and JJ in the other.

Rossi glanced at Hotch, communicating the tension Reid was releasing from the passenger seat. In turn, Hotch sneaks a peek via the rear view mirror and profiles Reid’s ticks—hands clasped tight together, right leg shaking up and down, eyes shifting from left to right, and deep breaths through the nose and mouth. 

“Reid,” he called out.

Blown wide doe eyes meet his. “Hm?”

“We need you to stay focused. If you can’t do that, I’ll pull you out of this case.”

“I—I can do it!” His voice cracking.

“Are you sure, kid?” Rossi clarified.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just she’s my—” roommate but that singular title wasn’t fitting to describe who you were to him. No classification was good enough, really. “—I can focus,” he declared. 

There was a series of looks exchanged between the two senior agents. They didn’t need to be seasoned profilers to understand that their youngest is one slip away from panic.

Hotch sighed. “Alright, Reid, but you follow my orders. Got it?”

“Yes.” 

———

Einstein’s theory of special relativity was what came to mind as he paced outside your hospital room. The physicist implied that time moves relative to the observer. An object moving very fast experiences time more slowly than in rest and that was exactly what he felt as he paces back and forth outside your room, desperately waiting for any update—the good or the bad. Everyone seemed to be moving at a leisure pace while he, Dr. Spencer Reid, hangs on the precipice of elation and despair. 

The team had sent him away, to you specifically, when it was obvious that his otherwise objective mind was of no help in finishing up the case. Was it dreadful of him that he felt relief course through his veins when it wasn’t you that got the short end of the stick during the unsubs’ Russian Roulette? Yes, possibly but he was only human. A being filled with conundrums and good vs evil. 

The impact of today was eye opening. He could no longer deny to himself that you were more than just a roommate or an acquaintance or a friend. Oh, how hard he tried so hard to push away any thought that seemed any less innocent or chivalrous, but the idea of seeing those beautiful eyes broken and in pain made him want to face the truth. The truth being how deliriously in love Spencer Reid was with you. 

His phone rang, disturbing his mind-altering revelation thoughts.

“Hey kid,” It was Morgan. “How is she?”

Reid licked his lips, eyes trained on the still closed door. “I—I haven’t seen her. The doctors are still inside and I’m still here—outside.” 

“I know this isn’t the time but should we know who she is?” A pause. “Girlfriend?”

“No. No, she’s my roommate,” his sigh coated in despair, murky and sad enough for Morgan to notice.

“You sounded so worried. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something.”

“I am—” your door opened. “I have to go, Morgan,” he hung up before another word could be uttered.

“Are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” The female doctor asked.

He nodded.

She smiled. “She’ll see you now.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[felassan]

Just some info I noted down from today's video in text form, under a cut due to what some peeps may consider spoilers, and length.

This video took place well into the game, meaning the beats in it are later in the storyline.

At least part of Davrin’s personal arc involves rescuing the griffons. In an earlier part of his arc you are introduced to his nemesis, the Gloom Howler, a creature that has been hunting and stalking Wardens for quite some time. It has kidnapped a bunch of non-Assan griffons and Davrin has been trying to track it down. In the quest shown in the video, he has found a lead and wants to go and track it down and get the griffons back from the Cauldron (a secret Grey Warden redoubt that was attacked). Davrin wonders what the Wardens were hiding inside the Cauldron, as he has no idea. When the party reaches the Cauldron, they find that something large tore down the gate. The party needs to find a way inside and help Davrin investigate.

Davrin prefers a Direct approach in dialogue. Tough dialogue choices can gain approval from him

The bond between a griffon and a Warden moving as one and having unity between them is called “turlum”. Davrin and Assan don’t yet have this

Grey Wardens: Lancit, Remi, Landon, Quincy, Miriel, Fisher, Greta, Beckett, Flynn (an apprentice physician, whose mentor is called Oskar). I think Flynn’s pronouns are they/them. We will do quests with Flynn including A Cabin in the Blight. They were treating patients and became low on medical supplies. Their mentor Oskar has some and lives in a cabin outside the village. Flynn asks Rook to tell Oskar they could use his help if Rook sees him when they are out there. Flynn is local to Lavendel and saw the Blight surge through their home.

A Grey Warden merchant / quartermaster is called Holden. The little girl seen with Davrin in the release date trailer is called Mila.

If you do content in an area it helps you discover more shortcuts, giving you more flexibility in how you navigate between different remaining missions and quests

Each exploration space has its own story to tell. The quests and sidequests there are narratively relevant and also contribute to a meta story/meta narrative about that space. In Hossberg / Lavendel the aim is to get to the center of the Blighty stuff that has been going on there

Another Warden sidequest called Lives Spared seems to involve some missing Wardens who haven’t checked in in a while

Rook inherits the Lighthouse willingly or unwillingly from Solas. It’s located in the Fade and is where Solas was able to start planning his rebellion against the elven gods millennia ago

The Lighthouse shapes itself around your personality. Companions’ rooms there shape themselves around the companions as they live there and go through their arcs. A glowing light above the entrance to a companion’s room indicates that they are ready to talk to us

Hossberg is a later game area. Hossberg Wetlands are dark swamps and the area has almost completely been consumed by the Blight, making it a lot more dangerous than before. As a zone it’s quite contiguous and has lots of branching paths and different areas to explore. The Grey Wardens set up shop in an outpost/fortress (this is only one of their bases) there called Grey Hold in the small town of Lavendel, which used to be a beautiful place full of life and flowers. The Blight has had a serious effect on Lavendel, but the residents are still there and trying to make the most of it. There are plenty of opportunities to help the residents.

The Wardens have noticed that something strange is going on; the Blight is not behaving as it should or as they would expect, or like it has done historically. A codex entry pops up called “An Improved Blight”. (basically we are getting Blight dialled up to eleven) Rook is there to work with the Wardens, help them out, and help them find the answer to their question about the Blight. In their outpost the Wardens have built up a small fighting force to hold off the darkspawn. They understand the stakes of the gods being released and want to help you but they have other priorities, so increasing their power allows them to contribute more meaningfully to your fight against the elven gods. The Blight has changed. It’s become a lot more organic, a lot more alive. Once a slow-moving wall, it now has almost-sentience and almost-thought behind it. This has something to do with the released Blighted elven gods.

Something bad happened to a place called D’Meta’s Crossing, it’s no longer standing.

It sounds like Weisshaupt has fallen.

Merchant shops can be upgraded, doing so unlocks new items.

The Crossroads is a location in the Fade that contains a number of eluvians, allowing you to travel across Thedas in a matter of minutes. At the point the video takes place, the Crossroads are under assault by the elven gods. It’s now a dangerous place.

The big eluvian in the Lighthouse is called the Vir Revas. (that could translate as Way/Path of Freedom). It’s the central focus point of the Lighthouse and it takes you to Solas’ pocket area of the Crossroads, which looks different to what we’ve seen in Trespasser. “A path has emerged from the mists of the Fade that leads to a gathering point where all eluvians meet – the Crossroads”. We will spend a lot of time travelling through the Crossroads as we go from area to area. At one point, it was also a space that served as Solas’ main base of operations and training ground for his rebellion against the elven gods. As we go through it we will find fragments of the past, things that Solas did previously that will give us insight into him as a character, and also into the elven gods and their motivations. If you go exploring in the Crossroads there are opportunities to relive some of the memories Solas had during his rebellion. We will actually get to take part in this ancient rebellion.

The Crossroads as a realm reflects the waking world. It’s a mix/ amalgamation of all the real world spaces that are tied to it, in this case for example Hossberg and other mountainous regions that exist in the game. The architecture around the eluvians here very clearly reflects where they lead. The first time you go to any of the new regions in the world you traverse the Crossroads to get there. After that you can fast travel if you want. But exploring the Crossroads is recommended because some of the deepest secrets lie within

There is a mysterious spirit in the Crossroads called The Caretaker who was there before Solas was. They started to help Solas with his rebellion and also to turn the area into a safe haven for spirits, as Solas loves spirits. In the video we see them piloting a boat through the air to transport Rook somewhere. Because the gods are assaulting the Crossroads, it’s no longer the safe haven it once was. Rook works with the Caretaker through a lot of ancillary content to rebuild it into a safe home for spirits.

There is an area in the Crossroads called Beacon Island

The darkspawns’ different looks is very intentional. Their new look is in part because Ghilan’nain, described here as "the god of monsters", has always been focused on using the Blight essentially as a crafting material, a way to alter life itself. she’s been enhancing and changing the darkspawn as part of her army. She uses Blight like a medium to sculpt and warp the darkspawn to do her bidding and suit her purposes. The idea is that the Blight and the darkspawn are an organic weapon. Instead of making swords and armor, the darkspawn use the Blight to augment themselves, effectively defeat you and give the gods the world that they desire. The darkspawn aren’t just coming out of nowhere. They emerge from Blight pools, like the Blight is spawning them. Part of Ghil’s attempts to turn this into an army for the gods is to use them for overwhelming force. Hurlock Blighters have disgusting growths on their backs that they throw, making them function like grenadiers as they rip off these pieces of themselves and throw them at you - these then explode as Blight – this kind of enemy design for the darkspawn is supposed to lean into the idea that the Blight is organic and disgusting. In places there are Blight boils throughout the area, and if Rook doesn’t destroy them during combat ghouls will continue to emerge from them.

It sounds like in terms of ‘factions of enemies’ and their designs, we have the darkspawn which use overwhelming force tactics, the Venatori which focus on magical power, and the Antaam which focus on physical strength

Zipline traversal is in

Each mage’s (Neve, Bellara, Emmrich) healing ability is thematically appropriate to them

I think Davrin’s special exploration ability, or one of them, is called Blight Hunter. (one of the ones Rook can channel through the dagger when that companion isn’t there). This summons Assan from above to destroy Blight Abscesses. He seems to have another as well that Rook can also use via the dagger called Griffon Strike. In the video Rook uses this one to destroy a mechanism that was keeping a load of wood suspended in the air from a beam.

We see Rook also using the dagger to "charge beam" and destroy what looked like a thick tendril of organic Blight across the ground, and to destroy a ‘wall’ of blight abscesses that was blocking the way. At one point in the video Rook comments that the dagger is vibrating, "like a song in a wine glass"

When companions go ahead to meet you at quests they’re invested in, they won’t complete them without you, but they do get things ready. If you start doing those quests and don’t have them in your party, they will move ahead of you and wait for you at the next point.