#basically every time i get up she LEAPS up too

[fingertipsmp3]

Do you ever just stare at your dog like “how the hell do you have the energy for all of that”

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

Series Masterlist

You're just an average person, doing normal human things like eating, sleeping, and, of course, staring at your poster of Leona Kingscholar for three hours straight. Totally healthy behavior. People have hobbies, right? Some knit, some jog, and you…? You defend your fictional lion husband from slander on the internet. You’re practically a digital knight in shining armor.

The story that has consumed your very soul? Oh, just your typical Cliché Villainess Academy Novel: Revenge Edition™. The plot is so by-the-book, it’s basically a war crime against creativity. Female lead? She’s been in love with the male lead since he gave some boring welcome speech that apparently hit her so hard, her brain rewired itself into a romantic mess.

The villainess? Obviously in love with the male lead too, but her one and only goal in life is making the heroine’s existence a never-ending trainwreck of public embarrassment. And the male lead? Sweet summer child. He just wants to get his degree and avoid eye contact with all of these lunatics.

Enter: Leona Kingscholar, the second male lead. The man, the myth, the walking sarcasm machine. He’s there purely to fuel jealousy in everyone else’s love story, but for you? He’s everything. The brooding, lazy, hot second male lead who rolls his eyes at every plot point like he’s just as done with this novel as you are. He has better things to do, like nap, but here he is, dragged into this mess by proximity.

If it were up to you, he and the male lead would run off together, leave the heroine and villainess to start their own hobby club about emotional devastation, and the two guys would live happily ever after in matching beach chairs somewhere.

But no. Instead, you’re stuck reading about her fawning over him while Leona is just… there. Existing. The only thing keeping your interest alive.

And now? Now, your loyalty to Leona Kingscholar is about to pay off. The fan event of the century is just days away. It’s going to be glorious. A whole day dedicated to Leona—merch, fan contests, life-sized cardboard cutouts (which, let’s be honest, you’re ready to risk it all for). You've cleared your schedule, mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable squealing, and created a battle plan for acquiring the best merch before everyone else.

But fate? Fate’s cruel.

You’re casually defending Leona’s honor online as usual, battling some no-name troll who dares to claim that the male lead is "better written." (HA! You laugh in their wrong face.) But then—what’s this? A an likes your tweet about Leona! And not just any author. THE ONE YOU LOVE. The serotonin shoots through you like an adrenaline shot straight to the brain.

Your heart’s racing. You’re vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear. You leap out of your chair like some majestic gazelle—or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you promptly trip over the plushie army that guards your floor.

Before you know it, you’re tumbling, body flailing like a noodle, bouncing down the stairs in what feels like slow motion. The world spins. Your merch shelves mock you from the distance. You land at the bottom in a heap, your soul floating just above your body.

"Is this… how it ends?" you wheeze, gasping for breath, more in shock than pain. As your vision starts to fade, all you can think is: I never made it to the Leona event….

And with that, you die. Crushed under the weight of fandom.

You wake up, and your first thought isn’t the usual, “Oh, I’ve been isekai’d into a new world, how fascinating, I’ll have time to adjust in a moment of peace and reflection.” No. You wake up and it hits you like a brick: Oh no. Female lead.

But then, a beam of hope breaks through the clouds of despair and shines down on you like a heavenly spotlight: Wait. Leona Kingscholar is here.

Before you can even revel in the thought of being in the same universe as your broody lion crush, reality smacks you upside the head. Loud voices are pulling you back to the scene unfolding right in front of your very eyes.

You blink. Hold on. This is not a bedroom, and this is definitely not a private moment to gather your thoughts like in every other isekai novel. Oh no, you’ve been thrown directly into the group project scene.

You know, the one where the villainess is sharpening her claws on the heroine while Leona watches from the sidelines like he’s two seconds away from a permanent nap? Yeah, you’re smack in the middle of it.

The villainess, looking as pissed off as usual, is glaring daggers at the trembling heroine, who is staring at you with those wide, teary eyes like you’re supposed to swoop in and save her from this verbal smackdown.

And that’s when it hits you: you’re the male lead. The original goody-two-shoes, justice-loving male lead who always stepped in to defend the heroine. The one who got suckered into every cliché moment, complete with sparkles and heroic speeches about morality and blah blah blah.

Not you, though.

You take one look at the heroine. She’s giving you this look like you’re her knight in shining armor, expecting you to throw yourself in front of her and deliver some dramatic monologue about kindness and decency. And you? You're mentally checking out of this scene faster than the speed of light.

Nah. You’re not about that life.

Your gaze drifts to Leona, sitting on the far side of the room, slouched over like he’s wondering why he’s being subjected to this emotional soap opera when he could be napping. His face screams "done," and honestly? Same. He meets your gaze, eyes half-lidded and bored, probably hoping you’ll do the usual male lead routine and put an end to this nonsense.

But oh no, today’s different.

You casually stroll over to where Leona is sitting, ignoring the drama unfolding behind you. With the swagger of someone who knows exactly what they’re about to do is going to blow some minds, you hold out your hand to him. "So, uh… you want to ditch this disaster and go take a nap? Or maybe raid the kitchens? I’m thinking we play hooky and pretend this never happened."

Leona’s eyes flicker with surprise for half a second. The male lead? The goody-two-shoes-moral-compass of the entire plot? The guy who literally lived to stop drama in its tracks? Is offering to blow off this whole mess? He raises an eyebrow, smirking like the cat who caught the canary.

"Didn’t think you had it in you," Leona drawls, but you can tell he’s already down for this. "Alright. Let’s go. If anyone asks, I’m gonna say you dragged me out."

"Deal," you say, trying not to look too smug. And with that, you turn on your heel, and with Leona at your side, you head for the door, leaving behind a shell-shocked villainess and a teary-eyed heroine who’s probably still processing the fact that her supposed knight in shining armor just dipped.

As you and Leona stroll out, you hear the villainess mutter, “What… just happened?” and you can’t help but grin. You may have just turned the plot upside down, but at least you’re doing it in style.

"Hey, Leona," you say, nudging him, "think we can find some of those fancy desserts in the kitchen? I’m starving."

Leona snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If you’re buying, sure."

And just like that, the male lead and the second male lead walk off into the sunset—or rather, the campus courtyard—hand in hand with a new mission: Avoiding all future plot nonsense at all costs.

You’re not sure how you got here, staring at the over-the-top ball decorations like you’ve stepped into a bargain bin fairytale, but hey, life has taken a weird turn lately. You, of all people, are living out the plot of a novel so cliché it makes your head hurt.

But you guess that’s what happens when you get isekai’d into a second-rate villainess story. The only thing missing is a glass slipper and some woodland creatures to sing with.

And of course, surprise! The ball isn’t just some casual evening of sipping punch and avoiding the villainess’s death stares. No, if you don’t nail the ball, you don’t graduate. Because nothing says "academic achievement" like knowing how to waltz while dressed like a background character from Bridgerton.

So here you are, in ball lessons, where everyone is nervously pairing off while you’re trying not to roll your eyes into another dimension. The heroine, with her usual doe-eyed sparkle, gets paired with you first. And let’s be real: she’s either terrible at dancing, or she’s using this as an excuse to get you to hold her close.

But you? Oh no. You’ve read enough of this garbage to know where that’s going, and you have zero interest in playing out the “close embrace, sparks flying, almost-kiss” trope. Absolutely not.

As soon as the music starts, you decide it’s time to act. You let your feet stumble—deliberately, of course—and flail around like you’ve never seen a ballroom floor in your life. The heroine, bless her clueless heart, giggles like she thinks you’re just being cute, but you’re not about to humor this. When the instructor’s eyes lock onto you, you seize the opportunity.

"Oh no!" you say dramatically, throwing a hand over your forehead like you’re in some kind of soap opera. "I’m so bad at this. Could someone please teach me how to dance?"

You pause, glance around the room, and then lock eyes with Leona Kingscholar.

"Leona!" you shout, loud enough that the whole room freezes. "You’re the second prince! You must’ve had etiquette lessons, right? Teach me how to dance!"

The room collectively loses its mind. The heroine looks like you’ve just slapped her with a glove and challenged her to a duel. The villainess is staring at you like you’ve lost your marbles. And Leona? Leona’s expression is somewhere between utter confusion and why me.

Leona leans back, crossing his arms, visibly annoyed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, but there’s no denying the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth when he sees the heroine and villainess get shoved into an awkward dancing pair together.

Despite his clear irritation, Leona steps forward, because let’s face it, he’s the kind of guy who’ll humor you if it means avoiding worse drama. You slide into position with him, and honestly? You’re in heaven. You can barely focus on your feet, too busy trying to hide your grin while you imagine all the drama this is causing behind you.

Meanwhile, the heroine and the villainess are floundering around, tripping over each other like they’ve got two left feet each. The villainess is grinding her teeth, and the heroine keeps stepping on her toes. It’s a glorious disaster.

Leona, despite his annoyance, is surprisingly good at this. He’s leading with the kind of effortless grace that makes you wonder how someone so lazy can still be so competent at everything. You’re definitely not staring at his sharp features while he dances, not at all.

"You do realize this is a waste of time, right?" Leona grumbles under his breath, his eyes flicking to the chaos unfolding behind you. "Why me, herbivore? You could’ve asked anyone else."

You just shrug, trying not to sound too smug. "What can I say? I have excellent taste in dance partners."

Leona’s brow twitches like he’s torn between smirking and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." But the smirk wins out, especially when the villainess and heroine fumble yet again, nearly toppling over each other.

You glance up at him, beaming. Leona Kingscholar might be annoyed, but he’s not stopping anytime soon. And you? You’re just here for the ride, watching the heroine and villainess self-destruct from the safety of Leona’s arms.

Ball lessons? Piece of cake.

You’ve been doing everything humanly possible to avoid the female lead like she’s a carrier of the medieval plague. You thought you’d be safe here, hiding behind your “I’m too busy and mysterious for romance” persona, but no—somehow—the more you avoid her, the more she’s convinced that you’re the dark, brooding, irresistible male lead she’s always dreamed of.

You know, the type who avoids emotional connections but secretly harbors a heart of gold. But the truth is, you’re just a guy trying to get through the day so you can swoon over Leona Kingscholar in peace.

It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it either. You’ve been dropping hints left and right, hoping the universe would give you a break and let the female lead fall in love with literally anyone else. But no. Somehow, everyone is ignoring your very obvious affection for Leona.

It’s like you’re stuck in a tragic comedy where the female lead falls harder for you the more you try to disappear, and Leona just… well, he’s just living his best life, completely unaware of your internal screaming.

Take the latest tea party, for example. You were just trying to enjoy some pastries, maybe steal a glance at Leona from across the table, when the heroine decides to make her move. She picks up a delicate slice of cake and holds it out to you, eyes sparkling with that innocent-yet-hopeful look that says, “This is our moment.”

You? You’re not having any of that. Nope. No way. You’re not about to be part of this rom-com narrative. So, without missing a beat, you casually take the cake from her and, in one smooth motion, turn and offer it to Leona, who’s lounging lazily next to you, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Leona raises an eyebrow at you, clearly baffled by why you’re holding out cake like he’s some sort of royal who expects to be hand-fed. “What are you doing?” he mutters, looking suspiciously between you and the cake.

“Just thought you’d like some,” you say with a straight face, ignoring the heroine’s stunned expression. She’s sitting there, fork still poised in the air, blinking rapidly like you’ve just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Leona huffs, looking mildly irritated but mostly confused. After a pause, he shrugs and leans forward, taking a bite of the cake without even bothering to lift his own hand. “Whatever,” he mutters between chews. “Tastes fine.”

You nod, satisfied. Meanwhile, the heroine looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and the villainess is smirking in the background like she’s about to take out popcorn and enjoy the drama.

Later that day, you find a nice, quiet spot under a tree to relax. You’ve managed to avoid any major incidents so far, and for once, you’re not being dragged into some dramatic showdown. You lie back, close your eyes, and just let yourself chill. But, of course, the universe doesn’t want you to have peace.

Enter Leona.

Without a word, he flops down next to you, takes one look at your position, and decides—out of all the places he could sit—that your lap is the best pillow option available. You feel his head plop down on your lap like this is the most normal thing in the world. You stare down at him, completely dumbfounded, while he just closes his eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Leona?” you start, voice half bewildered, half amused. “You good?”

“Shut up,” he mutters without opening his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the grass.”

You blink at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Meanwhile, the villainess strolls by, spots the two of you under the tree, and comes to an immediate halt. Her face contorts into a mix of disbelief and confusion, like she’s just witnessed something unholy. You can almost hear her mental scream of, what the hell is going on here?!

She doesn’t say anything, though. Just stands there, hands clenched, before turning on her heel and storming off. You don’t even care. You’re too busy reveling in the fact that Leona chose your lap as his personal resting place. If that isn’t a win, you don’t know what is.

And then, of course, there’s the infamous hallway incident. The heroine—who, by this point, you’re pretty sure has developed some kind of radar for finding you—comes running toward you. She trips over something (the air? her own foot? you don’t know) and launches herself straight into your arms in what is clearly an attempt to trigger some rom-com, slow-motion embrace.

But you? You’re not here for this.

With the reflexes of a seasoned avoider, you sidestep her dramatic fall, and she goes face-first into the floor. There’s a stunned silence as she lies there, unmoving, probably processing how she ended up eating dirt.

You glance over at Leona, who’s watching the whole thing with a lazy smirk, clearly enjoying the trainwreck. You give him a slight nod of approval, and he just rolls his eyes, a small grin still tugging at his lips.

The villainess, standing a few feet away, is laughing her head off. She’s doubled over, clutching her stomach, while the heroine’s dignity is scattered all over the floor. But you? You’re just staring at Leona, completely ignoring the chaos around you.

Somehow, despite all the madness, you can’t help but think: this is fine.

The day of the big spelldrive match arrives, and the heroine has never looked more confident in her life. She’s decked out in her team’s colors, standing tall at the edge of the field, waiting for you to join her in your usual spot. You know, like a loyal dog. A loyal, obedient dog who always does what she expects.

But not today.

Today, you roll up to the game decked out head to toe in full Savanaclaw merch. We're talking a custom jersey with Leona’s name on the back, a headband, face paint, and—just to really emphasize the point—a Savanaclaw banner tied around your neck like you’ve decided to cosplay as Captain Lion Fang.

You take your seat in the Savanaclaw section and immediately start hyping up the crowd like you’re getting paid for it. The heroine spots you from across the field and stares like she’s watching a crime scene unfold in real-time. Meanwhile, Leona’s already spotted you, and the smug smirk on his face tells you he’s LOVING the attention.

The game kicks off, and with each goal Leona scores, you’re going feral.

You’re screaming your lungs out, waving your banner around like you’re auditioning for some weird mascot gig. People are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind, but you don’t care. This is YOUR moment.

Leona, on the field, is living for it. Every time he glances your way, he adds a little extra flair to his plays, just to make you scream louder. He scores, and you’re on your feet, jumping up and down like you’ve won the lottery.

At this point, the heroine is practically catatonic. Her world is crumbling before her eyes. You can practically see her brain struggling to process what she’s witnessing: you, her loyal supporter, decked out in Savanaclaw gear and cheering for her rival.

“I... I don’t understand…” she whispers, her voice trembling like she’s been betrayed by the universe itself. “Why aren’t you cheering for us?”

You turn to her with all the nonchalance of someone who’s just ordered fries at a drive-thru. “Uh… Leona’s hot?”

It’s like you slapped her across the face with a wet fish. She stands there, frozen, her eyes wide, like she’s witnessing the fall of an empire. "B-But... you're supposed to support me!"

Before you can reply with another devastating truth bomb, Leona casually strolls over after winning the game, looking like he just walked out of a perfume ad. His hair’s tousled, a thin sheen of sweat making him look even more annoyingly handsome. He stops in front of you, smirking like he’s been planning this moment his entire life.

"Didn’t know you were my biggest fan," he drawls, voice low and lazy. “Gotta say, I’m impressed with your enthusiasm. Screamin’ my name like that… kinda hard to ignore.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but what comes out is more of a high-pitched squeak, followed by, “Hahaha, Y-Yeah… you’re welcome?”

And then, the words that break you: “How ‘bout we celebrate with a nap?”

Your brain freezes. A nap? You? With Leona? Your heart is doing cartwheels while the rest of your organs are busy melting into a puddle. Your mouth is moving, but all that comes out is an unintelligible “Uhhuhmm.”

Leona chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist, and starts dragging you off with him—right in front of everyone. He doesn’t even care that the entire field is watching. He’s already made up his mind.

The heroine, meanwhile, is standing there in stunned silence, her brain fully blue-screening as she watches you and Leona disappear. She’s still processing the Leona’s comment when the villainess, who has been observing this whole disaster unfold, finally chimes in from the sidelines with a shrug.

“Well, as long as it’s not the heroine,” she says, flicking her hair back with an air of satisfaction. “This is fine.”

And off you go, being dragged to a nap date you’re definitely not mentally prepared for, your face burning hotter than the sun. Leona glances back at you, that smug smirk still plastered on his face. "You’re lookin’ a little red there. You sure you’re up for this?"

You sputter, tripping over your own words. "I-I’m fine! Totally fine! Nap? Cool! Casual napping! No big deal!”

Leona just chuckles again, clearly entertained by how much you're floundering. “If you say so. Just don’t pass out before we get there.”

Yeah. Don’t pass out. Easier said than done when the man of your dreams is casually dragging you off to nap like it's no big deal while your brain screams at you in ten different languages.

This is fine. Totally fine. You’re fine.

Maybe.

You were sitting with Jack and Ruggie at the cafeteria, chatting about nothing in particular—well, Jack was chatting. Ruggie was there purely because you promised to pay for his lunch. Still, you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, he stuck around because he actually enjoyed your company. Maybe.

“So, any tips on how to deal with midterms?” Jack asked, ears twitching as he looked at you with that wide-eyed eagerness that only first-years ever had. He was honestly like a giant puppy, trying so hard to be good.

You leaned back in your chair, doing your best impression of a wise and worldly senior, which mostly involved pretending you weren’t sweating about your own midterms. “My advice? Caffeine. And if you have the chance to sleep, take it. Oh, and don’t forget to eat. I learned that one the hard way.”

Jack nodded seriously, committing it all to memory like you were passing down sacred knowledge. Meanwhile, Ruggie was on his third helping of food, barely acknowledging the conversation.

"Hey, if you're handing out wisdom, how ‘bout you tell me how to get free food more often?” Ruggie said between bites, shooting you a cheeky grin.

“Isn’t that already your specialty?” you shot back, eyeing the mountain of food in front of him.

He just laughed. “Can’t argue with that, but having backup plans never hurt.”

Before you could respond, you felt a shadow fall over the table. You looked up, half expecting it to be the heroine or some random classmate, but nope. It was Leona. Leona, who you were 99% sure had skipped class because he always skips class. And he looked… annoyed?

Oh no.

He ignored Jack and Ruggie completely, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you like you’d committed some grave crime. “Oi, herbivore,” he drawled, hands in his pockets like this wasn’t weird at all. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked, blinking up at him. Leona never approached people unless he wanted something.

“To the tree,” he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The tree?” Jack echoed, ears perking up in confusion.

Ruggie, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oho~ Someone’s in demand.”

Leona shot Ruggie a look that could’ve curdled milk. “Shut it, Ruggie.”

Your brain was still trying to process the situation. You were sitting here, minding your own business, giving sage advice about caffeine and survival, and now Leona was dragging you off to his tree like it was completely normal?

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from your seat as if this was some kind of kidnap situation, and started walking toward the courtyard.

“Uh—Leona? What’s going on?” you asked, doing your best to keep up without tripping over your own feet.

Leona didn’t even look back. “You’re talkin’ too much. Need some peace and quiet.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused but not necessarily mad about being dragged off. It’s just… “Why am I involved in your nap plans?”

“’Cause I said so.”

Wow, cryptic. You were about to ask again when you reached the tree. The infamous Leona nap spot. He plopped down against the trunk and, before you could protest, pulled you down next to him. Without another word, he stretched out and—because apparently boundaries didn’t exist—rested his head on your lap.

This was… This was happening.

You glanced around, half expecting to see a camera crew pop out and tell you this was some elaborate prank, but nope. Leona was lounging on you like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes already closed, arms crossed behind his head.

“Uh, Leona?”

“Shut up. M’ tryin’ to sleep.”

You stared down at him, your brain short-circuiting. This was the third time this week he’d done this. Just… kidnapped you for a nap. What was his deal? Was your lap particularly comfortable? Did you radiate some kind of sleepy aura? What was going on here?

Meanwhile, from the distance, you spotted her. The villainess. Watching. For the third time in as many days. And you could see it. You could see the moment she put the pieces together. Her eyes widened in slow realization, her lips twitching into a smirk. She knew. She finally knew.

When Leona finally woke up—after what felt like hours of you sitting there, too dazed to move—you were free. For now. He stretched lazily and gave you a casual “Thanks,” as if this wasn’t the most bizarre situation you’d ever been in, and you quickly scrambled away, making your way back to the dorms with your head spinning.

And that’s when the villainess cornered you.

Oh no.

There she was, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing look, her sharp gaze trained on you like a predator sizing up its prey. You swallowed nervously. She was about to confront you about the heroine, wasn’t she? This was it. This was the moment. Was she going to declare some rivalry? Challenge you to a duel? Confess to you? Make this whole thing painfully awkward?

She smiled, and it was not the evil grin you were expecting. “I’m on your side.”

You blinked. “…What?”

She pushed off the wall, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with a new kind of intensity. “Leona. I know you’re after him.”

Your heart stopped. This was it. She was going to call you out and—wait, what did she just say?

“I’ll help you confess to Leona,” she said, matter-of-factly. “On one condition.”

You were staring at her like she’d just sprouted wings and started speaking in tongues. “You… will?”

She nodded. “Yes. If you help me become more influential than that heroine, I’ll help you get Leona to notice you more.”

You blinked again, processing her words. She wanted your help to outshine the heroine, and in exchange, she’d be your wingwoman? Wingwoman?!

You grinned, holding out your hand for a dramatic shake. “Hell yeah.”

She clasped your hand, her smile mirroring yours. "Consider it a deal."

And just like that, you walked away from the most unexpected alliance of your life, fully equipped with a villainess-turned-wingwoman and a new plan to win over Leona.

Honestly? Life was getting weirder by the day.

“Okay, so just to confirm,” Ruggie’s eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “You want us to sit through this poetry reading,” he said, drawing out the word like it was some cursed phrase, “and cheer for the villainess. And in return, I get all the food left over?”

“Yup,” you nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“And Jack’s here because…?”

“I asked him nicely.”

Jack shrugged, tail flicking behind him. “I’m just here to help.”

Ruggie snorted, glancing at you with a grin. “This better be some damn good poetry then. And the food better be worth it.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, patting Ruggie on the back. “It will be.”

Little did you know, this was going to be a disaster of epic proportions.

The poetry reading started as expected—with the heroine striding up to the front of the room, practically glowing under the dim spotlight. She cleared her throat, clasped her hands dramatically, and began.

“It was a night… much like tonight…”

Your first instinct was to cringe, but you held it in, glancing sideways at Jack and Ruggie. Jack was doing his best to stay stoic, but you could see his ears twitching in discomfort. Ruggie had his hand over his mouth, clearly biting back laughter.

The poem continued, painfully dragging on about stars and roses and something about “destiny’s kiss.” By the time she reached the end, there was a collective sigh of relief from the audience. You weren’t even sure what you had just listened to, but you knew it wasn’t good.

Jack… Jack was crying. You stared at him, horrified. “Are you okay?”

“It’s… it’s so bad,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know poetry could be this bad.”

Ruggie had his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “This is better than I thought,” he wheezed.

You shot him a look, but even you had to admit, this was pure comedy gold. Poor Jack had no idea what hit him.

The villainess, bless her heart, was watching all of this unfold with a look of shock and confusion, but when it was finally her turn to read, she stepped up like a queen. Her voice was smooth, the words flowing like silk, and you couldn’t help but be genuinely impressed. She absolutely killed it.

The plan was working perfectly. You and your crew started clapping, cheering like you were at a rock concert. Jack, who was still recovering from the emotional trauma of the heroine’s poem, clapped too, albeit more quietly.

But just as you were about to get even louder, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Oi, sit down,” Leona grumbled, pulling you back into your seat.

“What—?”

He didn’t offer any explanation, just kept you firmly seated next to him, his face set in a bored expression. You blinked in confusion but decided not to argue. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy sitting next to Leona… it was just weird.

And by the grin the villainess was sporting, it seems like everything went exactly according to plan. Both for her and you.

After the poetry reading wrapped up, you gathered the leftovers like you promised. Ruggie was already hovering around, practically drooling over the spread.

“Here, take it all,” you said, handing the basket over. “Deal’s a deal.”

Ruggie beamed, clutching the food to his chest like a treasure hoard. “Pleasure doing business with ya!”

Jack was much more polite, bowing his head slightly. “Thanks for the notes. They’ll be a big help.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, watching the two of them head off. Ruggie was already halfway through a sandwich, talking a mile a minute, while Jack followed along, still looking like he might need therapy after the heroine’s performance.

That left you alone… with Leona, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you asked, half-expecting him to complain about something. He always had something to complain about.

“You mind explaining what the hell that was?”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

Leona’s tail flicked in irritation, his eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about you, whispering and giggling with that villainess all the time. What, you after her now that you ditched the heroine?”

You blinked at him, utterly baffled. “What? No, of course not. Why would I be after her?”

Leona’s jaw clenched. “You tell me. All I’ve seen is you hangin’ around with her, whispering, plottin’... I’ve seen how you look at her.”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

Oh my god. He was jealous.

A slow grin spread across your face as the realization sunk in. Leona, Leona Kingscholar, was jealous. And over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re jealous~.”

Leona froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” you repeated, giddiness bubbling up inside you. You could barely contain your excitement. “You’re jealous of me hanging out with the villainess!”

Leona’s lips pulled into a thin line. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh no, no, no,” you grinned even wider, poking him in the chest. “You’re totally jealous!”

Leona growled, looking thoroughly annoyed now, but before he could snap back, you quickly explained. “Look, I made a deal with her. I help her become more influential than the heroine, and she helps me… confess to you.”

Leona blinked, taken aback, his tail flicking behind him as if processing the information. Then, in true Leona fashion, his expression shifted from irritation to smugness in record time.

“Oh?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, so you don’t have to worry about me chasing after anyone else.”

Leona stepped closer, his voice dropping low, that usual lazy drawl making your heart do a little flip. “Good. But just so you know, cheek kisses aren’t real kisses.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Leona leaned in and kissed you—properly kissed you. Your eyes went wide for a second before you melted into it, feeling the heat of his lips against yours. He pulled back after what felt like forever, a smirk on his face as he watched you try to catch your breath.

“There. That’s a real kiss,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You stared at him, dazed, and then a sudden realization hit you.

You left your entire life behind, all for this moment.

And you were so, so glad that stupid plushie was on the floor, because this? This was totally worth it.

The heroine’s voice was as sweet as it was grating, like sugar poured directly into your ears. She fluttered her eyelashes at you, her smile stretched painfully wide. “So, I was thinking,” she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You would make the perfect knight for my family! Don’t you think so?”

You blinked, trying to figure out a way to escape. “Uh… I’m kind of busy with, you know, my own life?”

“Oh, but imagine!” she gushed, not hearing a word you said. “We’d be so close all the time—like, so close. You could protect me, and maybe… we could have a picnic under the stars? Very romantic, right?”

Your soul was trying to leave your body. You were pretty sure Jack’s ears twitched somewhere nearby, sensing your pain telepathically. And then, like a gift from the heavens, the villainess—your beloved accomplice in all things anti-heroine—made her appearance.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping between you and the heroine with the grace of someone who had seen this movie before and knew exactly how to cut to the good parts. “But I need them for an urgent matter. A very important, not-at-all-romantic-but-very-necessary mission.”

You shot her a look of pure gratitude, but before she could fully rescue you from the heroine’s death trap of unwanted flirting, a shadow loomed over the scene. A very familiar shadow.

Leona.

Without saying a word, he strode up behind you and casually wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest with an ease that had your heart skipping a beat. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his sharp green eyes fixed on the heroine.

“Oh no, carry on,” he said lazily, but his tone was anything but. “I’m just here to see what my mate is up to.”

The heroine blinked in shock, her hands hovering mid-air as if she had no idea what to do with this development. “Y-Your mate?”

“Yeah,” Leona said, tightening his grip around you, his smirk downright feral. “So whatever little fantasy you’re cooking up about romantic picnics or whatever—cut it out. This one’s mine.”

You felt Leona’s lips brush against your temple before he leaned in and, in full view of the now-utterly-horrified heroine, kissed the side of your neck. Slowly. Possessively.

You could almost hear the villainess muffling a laugh behind her hand.

The heroine’s face turned several shades of red as she stammered. “B-But I—”

“You,” Leona said, his tone dripping with amusement, “can fuck right off.”

The heroine gasped, her hand flying to her chest like she’d been physically struck. “You can’t just say that to me!”

Leona raised a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m literally the second prince. I can say whatever the hell I want.”

The heroine opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that, no, actually, she couldn’t argue with the literal second prince staking his claim. She sputtered for a moment before storming off, no doubt to sob dramatically about her dashed romantic hopes.

Once she was out of sight, the villainess finally let out a snort of laughter. “That was beautiful.”

Leona ignored her, his grip still firm around you as he leaned down to whisper, “Next time, you won’t need her to help you out. Just say my name, and I’ll be there to deal with the pests.”

You stared at him, a little dazed from the whole whirlwind of possessiveness, public displays of affection, and telling someone to ‘fuck right off.’ “You really went for it, huh?”

Leona smirked, leaning in for another kiss. “Damn right I did. And don’t you forget it.”

Somewhere behind you, the villainess was still giggling. You were pretty sure this was going to be gossip for weeks.

But honestly? Totally worth it.

Graduation day—the moment where everyone’s future plans would be declared, and all the chess pieces would fall into place. Or, in your case, the moment where you’d cause absolute chaos.

The grand hall was filled with eager anticipation. Everyone was dressed in their formal graduation robes, students buzzing with excitement over their new titles and responsibilities.

Leona, as expected, lounged at the back like a lion who had better things to do, half-asleep. Villainess stood tall and composed, already plotting her return to her family's estate. Heroine was in full glowing mode, ready to take her place as the beloved of the Grand Duchy.

And you? You stood at the podium, trying not to laugh. You knew what you were about to say would flip this graduation upside down.

One by one, people made their announcements.

When it was finally your turn, all eyes turned to you. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, knowing the original male lead—you—was supposed to be the retainer of the heroine. It was all set, all according to plan, right?

Wrong.

You cleared your throat, glanced briefly at Leona who smirked lazily, and then made the declaration that would throw this script straight out the window. “I’ve decided to serve as Prince Leona’s right-hand man, personal secretary, and...well, whatever he needs.”

The silence that followed was glorious. Pure, dumbfounded silence.

King Falena, sitting in the front row, visibly blinked. Once. Twice. He tilted his head slightly, confusion written all over his usually composed face. “What?” he muttered, looking like someone just told him a desert hyena had enrolled in ballet school.

Leona, however, didn’t even open his eyes. He just smirked, crossing his arms smugly. “Told ya he’d choose me,” he murmured, almost too casually for someone who’d just stolen the original male lead’s entire plotline.

Falena’s gaze flicked between you and Leona, still processing. Then, slowly, realization dawned. He saw that look on Leona’s face—the one that said “mine, and I dare anyone to challenge it.” King Falena’s confusion morphed into surprise and then, with the subtlety of a royal diplomat, resignation. “Oh…” he whispered, finally understanding. “He’s down bad.”

Leona cracked an eye open just to catch his brother’s expression and grinned wider, like a cat who knew exactly what kind of bird it had in its claws.

Your parents, bless them, were in the crowd with expressions of supportive confusion. Your mother was squinting as if trying to work out if this was some sort of royal prank. Your father leaned in toward her, whispering loudly enough for the entire row to hear, “It’s a royal job, right? That’s prestigious?”

“Yeah, but… Leona?” your mom whispered back.

At this point, the heroine stood up, ready to throw a wrench into the works. “Wait! You’re supposed to be my—"

Before she could finish, the villainess, in all her dramatic glory, made her move. With the grace of a queen and the audacity of a mastermind, she stepped right up to the heroine, flipped her luxurious hair, and said, “Actually, I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked. Wait, what?

The entire room gasped. You could almost hear heads snapping toward the villainess like a collective whip crack.

Heroine’s mouth opened and closed like she was a fish drowning in air. “I—what?”

“Dinner. Candlelight. Maybe a picnic. You and me, a date. Sound good?” The villainess winked with such charm that even the professors in the back were wide-eyed.

Heroine blinked rapidly, as if trying to reboot her brain. “Uh… sure?” she squeaked, still reeling from the fact that her entire romantic arc had just gotten hijacked.

You stared at the villainess in pure confusion. “What just happened?” you whispered, looking at her for an explanation.

The villainess simply turned to you with a mischievous grin, giving you a sly thumbs-up like this had been part of her master plan all along.

You were still processing the fact that you were witnessing the greatest plot twist of all time. You returned a half-hearted, bewildered thumbs-up, unsure if this was a win or not.

Meanwhile, the professors up front were clearly on their last thread of patience. The head of the academy rubbed his temples, sighing deeply as if this whole day had aged him a decade. “That’s it,” he said, voice strained with exhaustion. “Everyone’s graduated. Just...leave. Please.”

And with that, the ceremony abruptly ended. You couldn’t help but laugh at the professor’s exasperation as the crowd started to disperse, still buzzing with gossip.

Leona slid up next to you, his hand casually resting on your waist as you walked out of the hall together. “So, my right-hand man, huh?”

You shrugged. “Figured I might as well make it official.”

Leona smirked, leaning down to murmur in your ear, “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And then he kissed you. In front of everyone.

King Falena, witnessing this public display of territorial claims, just shook his head with a resigned sigh. “Well, as long as it’s official…” he muttered, casting an approving glance toward you. “Congratulations, I guess.”

Your parents were still in shock, but when they saw that it was a royal seal of approval, they immediately switched gears. “A royal job!” your mom whispered excitedly. “That’s so prestigious!”

With that, Leona tugged you away from the chaos, his arm never leaving your waist as you walked toward the exit. You glanced back one last time to see the heroine still staring blankly at the villainess, who had now looped her arm around her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The head of the academy, now red in the face, shouted after you as you reached the door, “I SAID EVERYONE GO, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT SEVEN!”

You walked out into the sunlight, trying not to laugh, while Leona leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured smugly, “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was a day like any other, except you were meeting the villainess in her newly acquired estate. She had officially taken over as the head of her family, and the new title suited her all too well. The whole place screamed, I am in charge, with a side of don’t even think about challenging me unless you want to cry in public. You admired the aesthetic.

The villainess greeted you with her usual regal flair, sweeping into the room like she’d been born to dominate it—which, to be fair, she had. She offered you tea, which you politely declined, sensing that this wasn’t just a casual catch-up.

"So, what's new with you, Lady Villainess?” you asked, leaning back, fully expecting some grand declaration about her political conquests or business victories.

She smiled—a dangerous, knowing smile that made you immediately suspicious. "Well, I wanted to tell you something rather... unexpected."

You raised an eyebrow. Unexpected? Coming from her? That had to be good.

"I'm dating the heroine," she said casually, sipping her tea as if she hadn't just dropped the biggest plot twist since the whole 'villainess takes over' arc.

You nearly choked on absolutely nothing, mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. "Wait. What?"

She smiled serenely, her expression the perfect picture of innocence—which made it all the more ridiculous. “Yes, darling. The heroine and I are officially a couple.”

You blinked. “The same heroine who couldn’t tell a poisoned apple from a regular one if her life depended on it?”

“The very same.”

“The one who gets lost in her own estate if she turns too many corners?”

“Yes, that one.”

You couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit you, and you burst out laughing. "Oh, that is rich. How in the world did that happen?”

The villainess leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Oh, it was simple, really. I realized I was always drawn to her... naiveté. And once I stopped trying to sabotage her every move, well, things just fell into place.”

You were still laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you two, but this is the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

The villainess gave you a mock glare. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“Oh, impeccable taste, huh?” you teased. “I just didn’t expect it to lead you straight to a walking ball of sunshine.”

“Well, someone needs to keep her from wandering into traffic.”

Still snickering, you stood up. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a saint for dealing with her.”

“I know,” she sighed dramatically, “but love makes us do ridiculous things.”

"Tell me about it," you muttered, still amused. You waved goodbye and promised to catch up later, your mind reeling from this new, absolutely hilarious development.

When you got back to the palace, you found Leona lounging in his usual spot, sprawled out on a couch like a lion that had just taken over the whole savannah. He barely glanced up as you walked in, already sensing the amused energy radiating off you.

“You’re grinning like an idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “What happened?”

You plopped down next to him, barely containing your laughter. “You won’t believe this. The villainess is dating the heroine now.”

Leona’s eyes flicked open, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t believe you. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face as he processed the information. “You’re messing with me.”

“Nope. Dead serious. They’re a couple now. In love.” You leaned in, grinning. “The villainess—ice queen herself—is head over heels for Miss Pure Sunshine.”

Leona actually chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never saw that one coming.”

“I know, right? It’s the most chaotic thing ever, and I am living for it.”

Leona’s smirk turned into a full-on grin, which was rare enough to be considered a national treasure. He shifted, sitting up slightly. “You think we’ll get an invite to the wedding?”

You snorted. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be front row just to see how she manages to keep the heroine from accidentally setting her own dress on fire.”

Leona’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he reached out, grabbing your wrist. “Come here,” he ordered, tugging you toward him.

“What? No, I’ve got work to do,” you protested weakly, but your protests didn’t mean much when he effortlessly pulled you into his lap.

“Work can wait. This is more important,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around you in a possessive hug that made it very clear you weren’t going anywhere.

You sighed, leaning into him. “You just want to cuddle, don’t you?”

“I want you to stop running around and actually relax for once,” he retorted, resting his chin on top of your head. “Besides, it’s not like the kingdom’s gonna fall apart if we take a break.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I should get a promotion. I’m basically doing all the work around here.”

Leona chuckled again, his grip tightening just slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let Falena hear that. He might actually make you his advisor, and then I’ll never get any alone time with you.”

You snorted. “Oh please, you’d just kidnap me from work if that happened.”

“Damn right,” he muttered, his voice low and satisfied. “You’re mine, remember?”

You felt your heart do that annoying flutter thing as Leona’s possessive tone settled over you. Even when he was being a lazy lion, he made you feel like the most important thing in his life. It was comforting—and kind of hilarious, considering how little he cared about everything else.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, and for once, you actually allowed yourself to relax, leaning into Leona’s warmth. His arms tightened around you again, and you could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he started to drift off into a nap, his grip never loosening.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but think that, despite all the absurdities in your life—from slipping on a plushie to your best friend falling in love with her former rival—you wouldn’t trade any of it. Not for the world.

And as Leona’s breath slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep, you allowed yourself a small, contented smile.

Life was chaotic. But it was also perfect.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Idia won the previous poll! Now for the next,

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[caitified]

i luv ur fics omg 😭 could u do paige x reader who loves horror where paige is scared of horror and they go to halloween horror nights (a haunted house theme park event thing) or watch a horror movie together 💜

haunt

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: none! as someone who gets scared easily i basically wrote myself here as paige..happy late halloween.

you and paige had been planning halloween night for weeks, and tonight was finally the night. there was a haunted house in town everyone had been talking about. at first, paige had acted super confident, teasing you about how you’d be clinging to her the whole time. but as the days passed and halloween night got closer, you noticed a slight shift—her teasing softened, and she started hinting that maybe haunted houses weren’t really her thing. you had your suspicions, but you knew she’d never admit she was scared.

as the five of you arrived at the haunted house with azzi, jana, and aubrey, paige tried her best to play it cool. “just so you know, i’ll protect you all,” she said, winking at you while gripping your hand just a bit tighter than usual.

aubrey raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical smile. “sure, paige. we’ll all depend on you.”

azzi and jana exchanged amused glances, both of them a bit more excited than scared, though you could tell they were gearing up for the jump-scares. the entrance to the haunted house loomed ahead, dark and eerie, with creepy music and distant screams filtering out through the walls. you felt paige shift beside you, her fingers trembling slightly as she glanced nervously at the darkened doorway.

“you good, paige?” you teased, leaning close and squeezing her hand.

“me? scared?” she scoffed, sounding a bit too quick to dismiss the idea. “nah, i’m just… mentally preparing.” her voice was confident, but her eyes kept flicking back to the entrance.

you just laughed, finding her bravado adorable. “right, you’ll keep us all safe from the monsters.”

“obviously,” she shot back, puffing up a little. “but, uh, don’t let go of my hand, just in case.”

as you all stepped inside, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and paige jumped, squeezing your hand even tighter. azzi and aubrey snickered, giving her playful nudges as you walked further into the dimly lit, twisting hallways. shadows seemed to move on their own, and every corner held another actor ready to jump out. with every lunge or sudden scream, you felt paige tense, inching closer and closer to you.

“you sure you’re okay?” you whispered, catching the way her eyes darted around at every little noise.

“totally fine,” she whispered back, trying to sound casual, though her grip on your hand was practically a death grip.

the first jump-scare came from a figure dressed as a ghoul, who leaped out from behind a doorway, and paige let out a yelp, practically leaping into your arms. azzi burst out laughing, clapping her hands, while aubrey teased, “our fearless leader, everyone!”

paige shot them both a glare, mumbling, “it just… caught me off guard.”

jana gave her a knowing smile, shrugging. “if you say so, paige.”

moving on, you came into a foggy room filled with eerie mannequins, some posed in twisted, unnatural shapes. the group hesitated, glancing around, when suddenly one of the “mannequins” came to life, lunging toward you all with a guttural scream. everyone screamed and scrambled, with paige clutching you even closer, burying her face against your shoulder for a moment before peeking out to see if the coast was clear.

“that wasn’t… that bad,” she mumbled, cheeks pink.

“not at all,” you teased, leaning in close. “want me to hold your hand through the rest?”

she rolled her eyes but didn’t let go. “don’t act like you’re not a little scared too,” she murmured, though her voice softened as her fingers laced with yours, grounding herself with your presence.

as the group continued, azzi and jana took the lead, laughing as they bravely navigated the dark hallways, while aubrey stayed closer to you and paige, occasionally tossing a smirk your way when paige shrieked at another scare. when you entered a pitch-black room with only faint, echoing whispers, paige’s breath caught, and she leaned even closer, her hand warm and steady in yours.

“i can’t see anything,” she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

you leaned into her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “i’ve got you, paige.”

by the time you made it out to the exit, paige let out a long, relieved breath, still holding your hand as if she didn’t want to let go.

“so… not scary, huh?” you grinned, looking up at her.

paige finally laughed, letting go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “fine, you win,” she said, grinning down at you. “but next year, we’re carving pumpkins or something.”

sorry for the lack of fics, i’ve been really busy but i’ll be writing more now. requests are STILL open!! thanks for reading

[bizarrelovesquare]

Dan posted this video that gave us a HUGE peek into Martin's notes about episodes they're working on...

Screenshots (with about 90% ID of what's visible, bless his handwriting) under the cut! Fair warning, it's long, but there's a lot going on here, and it's so much to think about!

picture 1: ????? chicken head funnier

picture 2: (first page) Reactionator

? Speakers all over town People's phones Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

The shrink is delusional ? ? exercise that is the catalyst for Cand. being delusional

Candace "It's A Wonderful Life" -- After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels sad

Family - I think you discuss it Cruise Ship - P&F Van/Doof Last chance to Candace A / Perry back

(second page) Doof's DEI W/A C's Therapist

Doof same therapist

Ferb is next a speech therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ex(?)nemesis - therapist

Therapist sees - "WAIT, I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING--"

(note going down side of page) GUEST ON DOOFENPUSS

Doof ? regular ? ? - but she can't ? this because of C ? Confidential ALL DANVILLE Doof and Vanessa on cruise ALL CHARACTERS ? Reactionator blackmail secret I ever tell you w/Lindana whose solved mysteries

picture 3: (script on the table) (our first potential season 6 title?) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

picture 4: Vanessay

Change tennis to playground

Roger & slushy guy not zapped

Rog. - reflects ray w/ his teeth - set up teeth first Doof: strong jaw -

Agent T thumbnotes "Up the chimney is a weird visual pun" Stacy: "You know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ambient sounds joke sequence - cut down?

Mono - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I ? ? ?

To Liv for Vanessay Playground - see how ? ? trap sets scene - a handled window box

Stacy: "Hey ? I ? ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

Stacy pushes ? out of doorway

Dimin: after "Shorty" - No prize is worth this!

picture 5: T For Teen For Liv - SC 916 Perry leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

Pitch n buttons for each

Exec note - Thurs - T For Teens 1:48 end of C/Stacy annual ? sudden cut to end ? w "napkins"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

(I cannot make this bit out to save my life. Martin what in the world my dude)

picture 6: Meap pt 2 - thumbnotes

22 to Meap - "Uh-uh! An ship ? us away!" (clumsy)

Fix pronunciation "St. Lois" joke C is shushed by Meap

Tidy up - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode ? ship sucks

Brenda joke sexist "No one tracks you through the universe more than your wife"

picture 7: 501 PT1 Exec notes - bigger intro of Doof instead of him on yearbook 10:27 Buf. throw away Constitution Irving beat #2 too quick to nerd

Deconstructing thumbatic

Instead of "psychosis" "phantasma"

607 - Isa hair - 704 OWCA shredding SC

C feels good - "? ? that every day"

12 min: Viewers see The Murder Board

Biblio Blast anim. notes Perry incompetent - smashes into Doof's roof Cut down - plants surrounding/attacking Cut down Doof/Per table start w/Doof "We have to HIT SELF DESTRUCT"

picture 8: (page 1) song by the paver the wind makes love w/each other again

around us - it all seems so real meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed we're SW in love w/each other again

Middle 1: From nothing we hustle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of unknowing has such beautiful colors But where is it all going ? towards one another? we're SW - in love w/each other again

Middle 2: We seek out each other Every time we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W/DANCING SKELETON

(page 2) Middle 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW in love w/ each other again We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The paver of

picture 9: While Dance

says to hug her how we feel healing each other turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: (So basically)

We're SW Alone by the river We sit on the ? and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/each other again

picture 10: Swampy

is trapped

back build something

element

State Triangle

"It's like the Berm[uda Triangle] totally different

(Teen lounge) & P&F build

too much like

Dan wants PLANE to

Doof is the ship

Jon said we turn strong where Doof is in the clouds - there's

picture 11: It's a whole new summer Perry (reblog if u cried)

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

Staring contest - Try not to laugh

Candace has to be ? at Jeremy's larping tournament but she laughs

picture 12: Perry sick, "Can you take

Candace P&F canoe race

Laughtrack-inator Start ? - reveal Doof hits them w/a Doof keeps cranking it up

Doof rises wall of ? behind at ?

Laugh-inator Cut to surgeon heart

Norm: Good mg. sir Doof: But I programmed you to

picture 13: (this is another view of the page in picture 2, but this one reveals slightly more at the bottom, nothing too noteworthy added except for this)

LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (9) - The Arrangement

Chapter summary: Ava proposes an arrangement, and things get out of control with Astarion... once again.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Alcohol. Innuendo. Body worship. (almost) Fingering. Sexual tension.

Word count: 6k

Series masterlist . Ao3

Ava extended the palm of her hand across the table, expecting you to comply with her silent request.

But you weren’t so easily swindled, especially when too much of her story was beginning to rub you the wrong way.

As such, you feigned complying by placing your hand atop hers, whilst your other carefully unsheathed the dagger at your hip.

Her face held a honeyed smile that you didn’t return, and your watchful eyes followed her every move, 

But before her knife could come close to your skin, you got on your feet, sending the chair sliding across the floor before you made a lunge for her, plucking her from her seat with one hand and pressing her back against the cabinet behind, your dagger firmly held against the side of her neck.

She did try to swing the knife in her hand, but you immediately caught hold of her wrist and squeezed tight until she dropped it on the floor.

“Sharp reflexes,” she noted with a curt smile.

You held her in place with the weight of your body, the sharp edge of your blade ready to slice through her skin.

“You sound surprised.”

She smiled again. “It is uncommon for sorcerers to be so skillful with anything but a staff and fancy hand flourishes.”

“Not many have the opportunity to learn from a seasoned rogue.”

Astarion had taken a liking to honing your dexterity, even when constantly remarking you’d never rival his.

However, in this particular moment, it did come in handy and his teachings had paid off.

“Unfortunately for you,” Ava said, her smile dropping slightly. “You are not the only one with tricks up their sleeve.”

And before you could question her remark, you felt the cool sting of metal tapping against your neck, just above the faint bite marks from the night before.

For a moment, the grip on your dagger faltered, but you quickly regained composure, not easing the blade pressed against her skin.

“This is coated in a most agonising poison.”

You offered a devious smile. “What a coincidence – so is mine.”

“Astarion’s?”

“Touché.” 

A homebrew recipe that he had once shared with you.

Travelling together with Astarion had given you the opportunity to broaden your skill set and that covered knowing how to brew most basic poisons.

She did look far too amused for someone who you could easily incapacitate should she stray but a little.

“And here I thought we had made some progress.”

Her taunt made you snap at once. “How much of an idiot do you take me for?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Idiot?”

You pushed harder into her, causing the glass jars inside the cabinet to rattle. “Your story sounds a little too convenient. You were a monster hunter for decades, then had a sudden change of heart, and tracked down Astarion to aid him,” your words were venomous enough to match the poison coating your blade. “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing someone could just abandon their principles all at once and even go as far as to kill their own kin.”

Her arm was gripping yours, but you didn’t flinch, your eyes boring into hers. “You don’t have to believe me. I wouldn’t either, to be frank. However, you shouldn't be passing judgement when it comes to others having changes of heart.”

You remained silent.

“You took a leap of faith with Astarion, did you not? You trusted him even after learning he could easily turn on you,” she went on, her voice now firm and low. “But he didn’t. He proved he could change, even when it goes against his very nature as a vampire spawn.”

Another wave of anger flared inside you.

How could she even compare this situation to that of Astarion’s? She was nothing like him. She didn’t know the first thing about the two of you. 

“You utter sweetened words and use my bond with him to make me sway,” you said in a low warning tone. “But I simply don’t like you. It’s not even about you wanting my blood – it’s how you so easily take and take from him and expect me to compactuate with it.”

Ava scoffed, trying to push you off of her but to no avail. “So is that why you’re here? To stake your claim?”

" Claim? Astarion is his own person.”

She chuckled darkly. “Yet here you are, speaking on his behalf. Enlighten me on how that works.”

Her words tore through your flesh more effectively than the knife she held to your neck ever could.

You immediately let go of her as if suddenly burned by her touch and took a few steps back, falling silent.

Was that the impression you gave her? That you were taking away his free will on this matter? Would he think the same if he knew how close you had been to sinking your dagger into her?

Shame.

Guilt.

Your chest felt impossibly heavy from the weight of your doubts, and you dropped your arm at your side at once.

Ava adjusted her dress as she straightened up, but there was no triumphant smile on her face. “I am not the enemy. You don’t have to trust me – Hells, you don’t have to like me – but he does to an extent, and I already said that I do not take a single drop of his blood without his full consent, as I won’t take yours.”

It was starting to overwhelm you just how hard Ava was to decode. You wanted to trust her word and to believe that helping her with your own blood could be helpful to Astarion in the long run, especially if there were people out there who wanted to hurt both of you.

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to fully digest her reasoning without asking the proper questions and double checking.

You were once told: “Never swallow before chewing.”

“Why did you kill your group, then? Why not just leave?”

Ava’s pleasant features turned sour as she returned to her seat. “There are no fiercest shackles than those of the mind. I know it. Astarion knows it,” she said nonchalantly, placing her knife on the table. “Not that I expect you to resonate with this as I’m sure you’ve lived a sheltered life.”

You’re wrong…

On so many levels.

But you weren’t going to give her leverage on your past.

Not even Astarion was aware of the intricate details of your upbringing.

“Sorcerers are born with an innate talent for magic wielding,” she went on, her eyes fixed on you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your family in Baldur’s Gate ranked up high with the rest of the nobles.”

You narrowed your eyes, lips still pressed shut.

It was unfair that she was drawing all these assumptions in regards to you when they couldn’t be further from the truth.

There had never been privilege. 

The magic coursing through your body was what made you nearly lose it all once…

But silence was your best weapon now.

“Not everyone has that privilege – I know I didn’t. I was forced to do the bidding of others, because that was all I knew growing up until Astarion’s case put things into perspective. Sure, I did expand my knowledge on Alchemy here and there, but I was never allowed to openly practice it,” there was a faint hint of sorrow in her voice that nearly made you feel sorry for her. Nearly. “So long as they lived, I would never be truly free as they would make sure I’d painfully regret leaving them. But I was done hunting those who could use a second chance, which was exactly what you offered Astarion.”

Her answer absolutely floored you. 

Your mind wanted her explanation to not make any sense.

You wanted a reason to hate her.

A reason to tear her bond with Astarion to smithereens.

Yet here she was, giving you seemingly truthful justifications to her deeds, which further troubled your heart and mind and completely defied your anger.

Eventually, you slid your dagger back in its holster with a long sigh. “Who’s after us?”

She crossed her legs. “I have my suspicions, but I need more time.

As much as you wanted to take her vague answer at face value, your common sense spoke louder this time.

“How can I be sure you’re not just feeding me some fable to cover up your own tracks?”

She chuckled almost in disbelief. “You truly are a tough one to crack, no doubt. I have a solid alibi, if that is what you’re requesting.”

“Go on.”

She paused briefly as if pondering her next words. “I was with a patriar.”

Hold on…

“Who?” you immediately shot back.

“Someone from the Parliament of Peers.”

Now, this piqued your interest. “ Who?”

“Rob Sorel.”

The wealthy baldurian merchant with an uncanny reputation for being ruthless when his interests were involved? The man whose wealth could easily overshadow that of a duke?

That seemed like a stretch.

A very unsettling stretch. 

You crossed your arms. “And what were you doing with such an influential patriar, especially so late at night?”

Ava gave you a long and hard look, lips tugged upwards, unveiling her amusement. 

Oh.

Oh.

“His influence reaches beyond Baldur’s Gate and I am able to gain exclusive access to wares that aid my research.”

You felt tempted to ask what the trade off was, but judging from the way her face twisted deviously, you could tell it probably revolved around carnal pleasure, which you refused to know the sordid details of.“Feel free to have Wyll cross-check this information as I’m sure Rob has mentioned my name.”

This nearly sent off alarm bells ringing in your head. “Wyll had never heard your name before I told him.”

She chuckled again, drumming her nails on the wooden surface of the table. “Oh, but he has . Ava is short for Avalar. I have had long dealings with Rob and he will uphold my alibi. Feel free to ask.”

Against your better judgement, you began to feel less… wary of her.

Not that you were able to fully let go of your gut feeling, but every answer was delivered with almost no hesitancy on her part and, truth be told, you would quickly be able to catch her if this involvement with a patriar was nothing but a desperate lie.

A sudden knock on the door made you jolt in place.

It was Wyll. “We ought to get going. Are you done?”

Your eyes remained fixed on her. “Yes. We're just going over some details.”

He didn't reply again and you saw Ava raise her eyebrows. “Details?”

You ignored her remark. “Will you try to track whoever is after us, then?”

“I will.”

You swallowed. “What's the price?”

She rose to her feet and took slow yet sure steps towards you until she was close enough for you to fully see the olive green colour of her eyes.

“Let's just say our interests are temporarily aligned.”

Bullshit.

“You wanted my blood.”

“I want your blood, yes. But I will settle with running a few more experiments after he's fed on you, if you accept this condition, that is.”

As far as you were concerned, you would rather she stopped meddling with anyone's blood, but Astarion seemed so confident in her promises…

Maybe there was a chance of success… maybe she could truly help with their hunger.

Maybe.

“Only after you tell Astarion about this discovery of yours in regards to his blood mixing with mine,” you said firmly. “Or I will.”

She nodded, offering a sweet smile.

“Don't think of this as payment, though. A mere transaction. An arrangement, if you will.”

You were starting to dread that term as of late. It was as if everything revolved around transactions and that it was the only way people knew how to properly function and establish relationships with others.

Slowly, you nodded and, for the second time that night, Ava extended her hand to you, only this time you took it in yours. 

A mysterious smile settled on her lips until you pulled her closer to you, lowering your voice, “I still don’t trust you.”

“I’d be disappointed if you did.”

You glared intensely into her eyes, hardening your face. “Any small step in the wrong direction, and you’ll hear from me.”

She nodded. “Deal.”

Then you gave her a firm shake before letting go and exiting her room without even looking back, as you were in dire need to distance yourself from the overwhelming events of tonight.

Wyll hurried to your side, glaring at you inquisitively. “So? What did you find out? Is she to be trusted?”

“Do you know a woman who goes by Avalar?”

He tapped his chin pensively for a moment. “Avalar? That name does sound familiar. Wait – she is Avalar? The merchant?”

You nodded as you made your way down the staircase, feeling the uncomfortable and draining presence of the mage slayer right behind you.

“She is connected to Rob Sorel, right?”

He hesitated at first, grabbing your arm and bringing you to an abrupt halt as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Lord Sorel isn’t one to trifle with idly. If she is indeed who she claims to be, then we must keep an eye on her.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, already feeling that you might have given her the benefit of the doubt too quickly.

Wyll turned to one of the Fists by his side and gave him a silent command to which the man nodded and exited the tavern.

“She said she was with him on the night we were caught, and that Sorel will vouch for her.”

The commotion around the two of you from the rowdy and very much intoxicated crowd made it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation.

“I will dig around,” he said with a raise of his voice, guiding you to the door.

But you yanked free from him, which earned a wary look from the other Fist.

“I need a drink. Please.”

The Fist spoke before he could, “My Lord, I don’t think we should linger any longer.”

You rolled your eyes and promptly made your way to the counter, squeezing past a few smelly individuals who grumbled in 

Bork appeared rather quickly in front of you, and you blinked twice.

“What can I get you, missy? ”

Wyll was by your side at lightning speed. “Are you sure you want to have a drink? Now?”

You never felt a particular interest in indulging in alcoholic beverages, but you craved it now more than ever.

“A pint, please.”

Bork’s lips parted into a devious smile and you tapped your fingers impatiently as he shifted to work on your request.

“You are not one to hold your liquor, if I remember correctly, my friend,” Wyll noted, already placing one gold piece on the counter. “Mayhap you ought to take a sip or two before we leave.”

He was absolutely correct, but you also needed a quick way to numb your restless mind. 

At worst you’d get a bit too intoxicated.

At best, you’d find a way to, hopefully, sleep through what was left of this night.

As Bork set the mug in front of you and eagerly collected his payment, you grabbed it with both hands and proceeded to down the sweet liquid.

In one go.

Wyll’s hand tried to ease your eagerness, but you slapped it away with a chuckle. 

“Why do I have the feeling I will have to carry you home after this?”

By the time you were through with the ale, you realised you had made a severe mistake.

If Wyll had not been there to steady your unbalanced feet, you would have certainly tripped on the nearby stool.

Fuck…

By the time you made it back home, it was more than evident you should not have drunk all of it.

But it seemed that your brain was starting to morph a sense of guilt into finding anything within your grasp to be rather hilarious.

Even when you almost bumped into the mage slayer stationed outside your house.

You gave them a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder as if he couldn’t easily split you in half.

Wyll pushed the  door open and guided you inside with both hands gripping your shoulders for added support.

“Easy now. Mind the step.”

You completely disregarded his warning, which led to you almost losing balance if not for his strong arm that looped around yours, pulling you back.

You giggled.

He was truly a sweetheart.

Inside, you were met with the dim flickering of a few candles that provided enough brightness to spot the love of your life.

Wait.

Love of your life?

Scratch that. What a ridiculous overstatement. 

“What in the sweet Hells took you so long?” Astarion said with a scowl, rising from his chair and heading straight towards you like an arrow.

You giggled again, throwing your arms in the air. “You stayed up and waited for me!”

Astarion halted abruptly in front of you, hands on both hips. “I don’t sleep as I’m sure you’re aware. What is wrong with you?”

Wyll patted your back reassuringly. “She…drank a pint, and – well… this is the result.”

Suddenly, there were two Astarions standing next to each other and you yelped in shock, flinching back. 

“Why are there two of you?” you asked, pointing at them.

Both of them cocked an elegant eyebrow. “Two of what?”

Odd.

They moved and spoke in perfect unison. 

If one Astarion was already such a headache at times, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what two Astarions would be capable of. 

Driven by curiosity, you tried to reach out to one of them with your hand, but grasped nothing but air as your vision corrected itself and only one Astarion was left.

Really odd.

But entertaining.

He quickly gripped your gesticulating arm by the wrist. “Will you stop it? You’ll hurt yourself.”

The sudden proximity made your stomach turn dangerously, but you were far too amused to care. “ You’ll hurt yourself ,” you mimicked poorly, earning another scowl.

“I let you out of my sight for a few hours and this is the result,” he said with a sigh, then turning to Wyll. “Why would you let her drink a whole pint?”

Wyll rubbed the back of his neck. “She insisted, and I figured she could use the distraction.”

“What happened with Ava?” Astarion pressed.

Oh, Gods… not her again. “Will everyone please stop talking about her? Gods!”

He then pulled you closer to him, not letting go of your wrist, but easing his grip.

His beautiful eyes met yours and you felt yourself swoon, feeling the image of Ava dissipating into thin air.

Gods… he was the most beautiful man to ever grace this earth, no doubt.

Books should be written on his beauty and songs should be sung in his honour.

You felt yourself smile widely at him, feeling a rush of heat flood your face.

You’re so handsome…

His brows immediately furrowed.

Oh.

Shit.

You had said that aloud.

But you stood by it.

Astarion was so very handsome.

The only man who could make you yearn for him and have your heart and soul enamoured by all of him.

Then his face gradually softened. "Well, good thing there are no newshounds nearby. Can you imagine the headlines in tomorrow’s paper about the hero of Baldur’s Gate making a fool of themselves?”

You felt so giddy and drunk in his beauty that you just nodded at every word that spilled from those full lips that you wish you could just–

Whatever you say, handsome…

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you heard Wyll ask.

Astarion shrugged. “No one else is here, and it’s not as if I’m their mother.”

He was so snarky and it just made you almost melt under his touch.

“I can stay if need be.”

You rapidly turned to face Wyll, and immediately felt dizzy as Astarion steadied you. 

“Please stay! We can have a party!” you suggested with a dramatic pout.

Behind you, Astarion scoffed. “I’m quite sure dear Wyll is busy with his Duke duties, darling.”

Wyll chuckled. “I always make time for my friends.”

“Well, I can take it from here,” he retorted and you could spot a hint of disdain in his voice.

So attractive…

Astarion then lifted your arm and wiggled your wrist. “Say goodbye to Wyll, sweetheart.”

You giggled dramatically again. “Goodbye Wyll!”

He took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow once I have an update on what we discussed.”

Astarion pulled you away from him at once with a gasp. “Keeping secrets from me? Oh, you two lovebirds.”

Hold on!

No! You weren’t that close to Wyll.

As you were about to protest, Wyll spoke, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Astarion.”

“What is there to be jealous of, I wonder?”

You nodded vehemently, finding it utterly amusing how he sounded so territorial all of a sudden.

Adorable man.

Wyll gave a lighthearted chuckle before turning to leave. “Well, I’m sure I can think of a few reasons.”

You laughed way too loudly at his remark, which caused Astarion to click his tongue in annoyance.

Adorable.

The door closed shut behind him, and Astarion immediately spun you on your feet to fully face them.

“What were you thinking? Drinking a pint?”

You couldn’t care less about what he had to say in this moment, and simply glared at his face, your hazy mind reminding you just how much you adored him.

And before you could restrain yourself, the words tumbled from your mouth. “I… I really like you.”

Idiot.

A deafening silence settled around you, and you began to feel an increasing wave of nausea as he merely glared at you.

Then you giggled, trying to disperse the awkwardness as fast as possible.

He didn’t laugh with you, tugging at your hand instead. “I think it’s time to get some sleep, darling.”

Too bad you were clearly incapable of walking in a straight line, which earned his attention. Without a warning, you felt your balance shift rapidly as he scooped you in his arms, effortlessly carrying you along the dim corridor.

“Put me down! Astarion!”

Instinctively, you looped your arms around his neck for support, but still trying to wriggle out of his fierce hold.

“I don’t need to be carried… please put me down,” you whined. “I - I will curse you!”

An amused smile tugged at his lips. “How very ferocious of you. I suppose we should have gotten you drunk more often back then. I’m sure our foes would have fled in horror at the sight of you.”

You slumped into him with a pout. “Mean.”

He pushed the door to your room open with a nudge from his shoulder, before easing you back on your two feet again.

The room was plunged in darkness and you felt him shift away from you, setting alight a single candle next to your bed, and you blinked a few times to adjust to the clarity.

You were now entering the less amusing stage of your insobriety and you could feel yourself scowl at him, clumsily crossing your arms.

“I should have hexed you.”

“Darling, the only thing you’ll be hexing in that state is a doorknob.”

You snorted at his playful jab. “I was perfectly capable of walking!”

“Into a wall? Yes, indeed.”

He then moved back to your side, helping you out of your cloak and quickly wrapping a blanket around you.

The simple gesture was enough to melt your defiant demeanour at once.

The two of you stood there in silence, eyes locked and you found yourself wishing he’d kiss you, but you knew he never would.

Astarion valued consent above all else, and he would not cross any lines. Each time you had gotten ahead of yourself in terms of sobriety, he always reigned you in.

And that was just one of the many things you adored about him.

How safe he made you feel and how you knew he’d never take advantage of your vulnerability. 

“You need to properly rest,” he urged, ensuring the thick fabric around you was tucked properly in place.

Just as you were about to head to bed, you felt the room tilt to the left and you yelped, clutching onto him for support.

“I’m going to fall!” 

The walls around you began to swirl and sway and your own legs wobbled.

A genuine laughter rumbled across his chest as he patted your back. “You silly little goose. Your warped mind is playing tricks on you.”

That term of endearment caught you slightly off guard and your heart fluttered.

Gods…

Why was he so easy to love?

Or was this the alcohol talking? Were you truly so far gone, that the alcohol was merely making it easier to surface your feelings?

Either way, you wouldn’t voice them, and allowed him to guide you to your bed, helping you to slip under the bedsheets. 

It felt rather good being taken care of this way. 

Maybe he didn’t think of this as anything but a nuisance, but you were grateful, nonetheless. 

“Thank you…” you mumbled in a whisper, gripping his hand.

The ceiling was now begging to spin dangerously fast and you had to close your eyes to help with the overwhelming sensory overload. 

He didn’t reply back, but you felt him tugging his hand away from your grasp.

A sudden shiver of panic coursed through your body. “Please stay? You always leave…”

Please…

He relaxed his cool hand against yours.

Slowly, you peeled back an eyelid only to see him easing onto the spot next to you over the covers.

You turned on your side to glare at him and he mimicked you, meeting your eyes in silence.

“How do you feel?”

In love.

“Well…”

He nodded and you smiled warmly at him, probably looking rather silly, but too mesmerised by his face to even look away.

“May I touch you?” you asked hesitantly.

He arched his brow, but nodded.

You lifted your hand and with a single finger, you began to slowly trace the bridge of his nose, admiring how he didn’t just look perfect…

He felt perfect…

“You’re so beautiful…” you sighed, feeling the slight bump of his nose as you trailed down to his lips. “So… so beautiful.”

He chuckled deviously. “I’m all for praise, darling… do go on.”

And you wanted to, but you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and your hand dropped from his face and your eyes dropped close.

“Or not…” you heard him say.

His voice seemed so distant now as drowsiness enveloped your senses. A part of you wished you could trace all of his face with the pad of your finger, worshipping every inch of him.

“Please, don’t leave…” you found yourself repeating.

He clicked his tongue. “I will if you vomit on me.”

You giggled, managing to shift closer to his body and rest your head on his still chest. “Deal, handsome…”

Your heated body welcomed his coldness, and it didn’t take long for your busy mind to progressively quiet down as you drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

It was the soft click of a door being shut that roused you from your sleep. With eyes still closed, you flipped onto your back with a pained groan as your body was hit with the aftermath of last night.

“Rise and shine,” Astarion’s honeyed voice filled the room.

You stretched yourself with a yawn, feeling your mouth dry as sawdust and an overwhelming thirst that nearly made you sob.

“I’m never drinking again…” you whined pitifully. 

The mattress dipped slightly next to you. “Well, how do you feel today?”

“Like death…”

“Your breath definitely reeks of it,” he said, voice dripping with disapproval. “I drew you a bath, as I anticipated you’d need one.”

At this, your eyes flew open. “Is this your chivalrous way of telling me I stink?” you grumbled, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

The curtains were no longer drawn and the faint light bleeding from the top and bottom was enough to tell you the sun had already risen. 

He took your hand in his, tugging gently until you were sitting in front of him with your legs crossed. “Darling, you’re free to bask in that dreadful stench for all I care.”

You shot him a serious glare before bursting into laughter. “Good point. I need to get off these clothes…”

Astarion helped you on your feet and you carefully paced across the wooden floor and into the washroom.

A pleasant smell hit you as you stepped inside, with him following closely behind.

“I borrowed a few bath salts from Gale,” he informed, pointing to the round tub in the middle of the room, almost filled to the brim with steamy water. 

You glared at him in disbelief. “Borrowed as in… stolen?”

He shrugged.

You knew him too well.

“He does have a decent selection, yet manages to always carry the most interesting smells around,” he said, bringing you over to the large basin under a round mirror. “I minced peppermint and it should help with your breath,” he added, handing you a glass of water.

You did as he advised and took a gulp, rinsing your mouth eagerly before spitting the content onto the basin.

“So… are you going to tell me how the conversation with Ava went?”

Wiping your lips clean with a rag, you gave him a look.

“It could have gone worse, I suppose.”

“Charming,” he said. “Worse as in ‘I almost killed her’ or ‘She made me want to pluck my eyes out’?”

“All of the above, maybe,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

To be fair, after hearing her reasoning, she didn’t come across as that bad. But you couldn’t help but to still feel wary of her intentions in the long run.

Astarion was studying your face intensely as you emptied the glass of water to quench your thirst, the minty aftertaste doing wonders to your throat.

“Anything in particular I should know about?”

Besides her wanting to take my blood? Nothing at all, you thought grimly.

You merely shook your head.

“I’ll be waiting outside, then.”

Right.

Bath time.

You took a quick look in the mirror and nearly groaned out loud from the sight of your weary face.

Just as you were trying to strip the shirt you had on, you huffed in annoyance, which earned his attention before he slipped out of the washroom.

“You need help.”

You tried to pull the sleeve, but your body ached too much to comply. “I need help.”

Astarion slowly crossed the room again, and swiftly helped you out of your shirt.

You hissed as his cold knuckles brushed against your bare stomach. “Cold, cold…” you said, teeth jittering.

Being naked in front o fhim had long lost some of its inherent sexual meaning. It used to make you feel too exposed and only when the two of you were about to indulge in one another.

Now, it felt like something casual.

His stare didn’t linger on your breasts for too long or on your now hardening nipples.

“I apologise,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you out of these next.”

Skilled fingers worked on the front of your trousers, undoing them slowly before carefully dropping on one knee and pulling them down along your thighs.

You had to look away to hide the rush of heat that had settled on your face.

Now that felt too intimate…

He tugged at your underwear next and shiveres began to prickle along your body.

You suddenly felt too exposed. 

Astarion had seen you this bare since you last slept together before reaching Moonrise Towers.

And this new predicament had your heart strumming hard in your chest.

You slipped out of your trousers and looked down to meet his crimson eyes. “What?”

“May I kiss you?”

You swallowed. Hard. “Where?”

He leaned in to press his cold lips to the dip of your hip, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and rising to his full height again.

Gods…

“Do you need my help getting inside?” he asked and you could see it .

You could see the lust in his eyes.

You could hear the faint innuendo in his words.

And you could feel the familiar throb between your legs increasing.

“Yes…”

He promptly gripped your hand and you lifted each leg to dip into the nicely heated water, its surface covered in frothy suds. 

Slowly, you lowered yourself into a sitting position before leaning back.

Astarion placed a folded towel under your neck, so you could easily relax against the wooden tub as you sank below the waterline.  

“May I wash you?” he asked, settling himself on his knees behind you.

You immediately nodded, gripping the edges and trying your best to ignore the swell in between your folds.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he could turn you on with mostly his words and intonation. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you jolted briefly when you felt a soft sponge being dragged from your neck and down your breasts.

A sigh parted your lips and you arched your back instinctively, just enough to raise your nipples above the waterline as he grazed each of them in circular motions.

You instantly clenched around nothing, knowing fully well that it would have driven him insane had his cock been buried inside you.

A second moan was heard when he started planting soft kisses along your jaw while his hand kept on gliding the sponge down your abdomen.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered in between kisses.

Your legs parted as you welcomed his ministrations. 

With his other hand he gripped your jaw and applied enough pressure until the back of your head hit his chest, his thumb caressingly you lovingly.

A strained whimper erupted from you when the sponge reached your folds, deliciously caressing the growing swell in between.

Your hips rolled a few times to increase the friction and you begged the Gods above to have him use his fingers instead…

“Please… Astarion…”

He planted a lingering kiss on your lips, pressing the sponge against you so you could grind desperately on it.

“Does it feel good, darling?”

“Use your fingers… please…” you begged against his lips, squeezing your legs together to trap his hand as you gripped the edges of the tub for support.

He chuckled darkly, dropping the sponge and he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to muffle a loud moan as he slid one finger along your folds.

“Do you remember how many you could take?”

Your eyes rolled shut as lust clouded your senses, hips rolling at a faster pace.

All you remembered was struggling to fit his cock inside at first…

The pad of his finger teased your swell a few times before he moved to place it at your entrance.

“Answer me.”

You could cry from the despair alone as he refused to slide a single one inside.

“I - I… two? Astarion… please… ”

He chuckled teasingly in response, and you 

The door to the washroom burst open, causing him to detach from you at once.

Shadowheart.

You let out a yelp, sinking until you were neck-deep in water.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Astarion’s words were dripping with poison.

“Even heard of not greeting people with... that?”

From this position you were almost at eye-level with his lower half, giving you a privileged view of his rather generous bulge, strained against his own trousers.

You felt heat flare in your cheeks as you remembered just how easily he would drip precum for you.

She hurriedly crossed the room and threw a robe at you. “Dress up. Quickly .”

Lust quickly turned into panic from the way Shadowheart glared worriedly at you.

“What happened?”

“Gale is leaving,” she said. “We just received word from Waterdeep that his contact has been killed.”

TBC

[fartfather]

Audience of One pt.3

Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Word count: 6.5k

Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.

pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐

Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ

Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.

You looked so peaceful.

So angelic.

He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.

His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.

He could get used to this.

"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.

Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"

Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.

"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."

"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'

Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.

Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.

Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.

The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.

Something genuine.

And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.

Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."

"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.

With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.

Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.

Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.

You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.

You didn't want this moment to end.

Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.

"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”

The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.

You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.

Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.

You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.

Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.

“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.

"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.

"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.

"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.

God, his man was truly a treasure.

Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.

Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.

"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.

Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.

"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.

You blinked.

Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.

"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."

You stared at him.

Your brain was blank.

You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."

"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.

Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"

You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.

"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"

"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.

Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.

Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.

"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.

"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"

Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.

Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?

And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.

The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.

Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.

"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"

Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.

That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.

"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”

Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"

Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.

Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.

You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.

Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.

"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."

A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.

"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.

You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"

"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.

"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."

Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.

He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."

The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.

And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."

Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.

"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.

And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.

Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.

The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.

"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.

A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.

Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.

"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."

His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.

"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.

They both let out satisfied hums.

Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."

Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.

You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.

"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.

Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.

"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"

Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.

You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.

Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.

Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.

Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.

Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.

"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"

You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.

Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."

Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"

The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.

"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.

His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.

A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.

You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.

"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"

His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.

"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."

The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.

You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.

"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."

You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.

Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.

To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.

"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.

You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"

”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.

"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."

"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.

You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.

You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.

"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.

"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.

"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.

Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.

Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.

"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.

He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.

Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.

"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.

You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.

"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."

Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."

As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.

Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.

"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.

You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"

"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.

After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.

"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.

"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.

You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.

Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.

Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.

"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"

"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"

A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.

"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."

"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.

"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"

"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."

He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"

Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.

Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.

"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.

Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."

Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.

You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"

"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.

In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.

Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.

"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.

"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"

Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.

You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.

Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.

"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."

Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.

"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."

Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."

Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.

You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.

Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.

You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.

"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."

"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"

You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."

You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.

Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."

"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.

"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."

"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.

"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.

Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.

"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.

A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.

The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.

Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.

He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."

After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.

"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.

You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"

"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.

It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.

The three of you had become comfortable and content.

As if that's how things had always been

Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.

It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.

"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"

You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.

"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."

"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."

"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.

You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.

Gojo was right, it did feel like home.

A warm, safe, comforting, home.

It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.

The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.

He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.

Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.

"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.

"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"

"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"

Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.

Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.

"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"

They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.

"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.

"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"

Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.

"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.

He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Anakin flirting with m reader and ending making out? Pls

Anakin Skywalker x Male reader

Headcanons

You are a non-jedi general during the Clone wars, cuz yall lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship.

This turned out a lot sweeter than i had planned ngl.

You were a general during the clone wars. You weren’t anything special, you couldn’t use the force, you weren’t from some rich or special background, your name didn’t carry any weight. The only gift you seemed to have, was your inability to be affected by the force. All in all, you weren’t anything to write home about.

Of course, that’s also what made you so damn useful in your role. No one kept an eye on you, everyone underestimated you, you could get away with so much because to most people in charge, you didn’t exist. You not being able to be manipulated by the force, also made you extremely skilled in what you did, without anyone seeming to notice.

Your feat of climbing the military ranks in leaps and bounds only got you mild acknowledgments, and a handful of attempted manipulations from some people in power. But when they realized you didn’t bend, but you weren’t important enough to get rid of, they left you alone.

At 22 you had reached the rank of senior general in the republic army, placing you above even a good chunk of the jedi you fought against, which was also why you had been placed with the 501st, to apparently teach their general the basics.

Anakin and Obi-Wan had both been unsettled by the fact that they couldn’t sense you in the force the first time you met. Every being, even the nonliving, had a presence. But you didn’t. it was like you didn’t exist.

That took quite some time to get used too, especially to someone as force sensitive as Anakin. But over time you two started getting along, and though it took him some time and a lot of grumbling, Anakin did learn quite a lot from you.

The flirting had been subtle in the beginning, or as subtle as Anakin could be. From getting your help on reports and readings he just “couldn’t understand”, to getting you to help him stretch after he had spent hours going through his katas.

You weren’t oblivious, you couldn’t be with the life you lived, so of course you noticed his attempts at flirting. It was endearing in a way. To see someone who was supposed to have no connection to people like that, seem so drawn to you.

It also left you feeling uneasy in a way, as you had never really had much time to relationships or even flirting for that matter, having spent all these years making something of yourself.

Alongside the flirting you two became good friends, and you had even signed yourself up to stay with his platoon, even when your training was done. This was also where you learned he had had a thing with Padme, but they realized they were better as friends a while ago.

When you shared your own lack of experience, it seemed to boost some of Anakin’s confidence, seeing as you both were on new ground. And like with anything else, he took to it with gusto.

The fact that you never turned him down or rejected him, sometimes even laughing and playing along, only made Anakin try even harder. It was cute, to see him trying his best to woo you in a subtle and less noticeable way, seeing as he was still a jedi and it wasn’t actually allowed.

The 501st knew though. Of course they knew, and when Ahsoka came around she figured it out very fast, and she most likely took up the role as hype man and background support.

Your flirting became part of your dynamic, it was just something that you two did, which to outsiders was just seen as banter to keep the spirits up.

It also didn’t go past flirting for a long time, seeing as you guys were always surrounded by people. And being besides Anakin didn’t let you slip into the shadows like you were used too, since he would glow so brightly.

The need for privacy was what had you two slinking off to the side during one of the nights in camp, the platoon having settled down on a planet and waiting for their next orders. Anakin and you had decided to wander off, settling somewhere nearby, but far enough away to get some time alone together.

There might also have been a bottle of alcohol in your coat. It was nowhere near enough to get either of you drunk, especially with the force helping clear it out of Anakin’s system quicker than average folk. But it was enough to loosen up and get comfortable.

Your normal banter of flirting was constant, but as the buzz settled it became something softer and somehow hotter, the feelings growing thick in the air and noticeable enough that even you, who was as force sensitive as a rock if not lesser, could sense it.

Anakin must have made some corny pass at you, that cocky grin on his lips and his hair brushed back and out of his face, letting you truly see his handsome features. Something came over you, later you would blame the force, but it just felt right.

Leaning in and closing the gap between you seemed to have shocked Anakin, his eyes wide before he seemingly melted against you, arms wrapping around your neck and torso and pulling you even closer.

The kiss was far from the most skilled or pleasant, but your shared lack of experience was fully made up for by enthusiasm.

Anakin would pant and grunt as the kiss turned steamier, lips parting and tongues rubbing together, spit gathering at the edges of your mouths and a line of drool running down his chin. His eyes were shut tightly in concentration, his brows furrowed and hands grasping as your coat.

You had no idea how long you two were laying there, kissing like two lovesick fools from some romance novel. Hands were grasping and exploring, but never going further than that. Now wasn’t the time to go any wilder than what you were doing, but the possibility of it was enough to make the kiss even better.

When you pulled away, Anakin leaned after you with a soft noise, bottom lip pouting out and red from the insistent kissing, his eyes cracking open to look at you with the softest look you had ever seen from him.

“Not all of us can hold our breath for hours” you snarked with a soft chuckle, since you knew he could, thanks to the force. Your jedi grumbled, but tucked his head under your chin, still clutching you close and brushing his lips against your neck.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just holding onto each other. You found yourself brushing your fingers through his hair, Anakin almost arching into the touch like an affection starved tooka, a sight that only made you smile more.

“I like you a lot” he mumbled, glancing up at you through his lashes with that insistent determined, but somehow still soft and warm look in his eyes. Just seeing him like that made you wanna kiss him again, to devour him whole.

“I think I like you too” you replied, an upwards tick to your lips as you pulled him close again. Even without the ability to feel the force, you could still feel it flare, like the sun rising in the morning. It would be no surprise if Ahsoka knew exactly what had happened, and the padawan would be confronting you guys about it later.

But right now all that mattered was laying there with Anakin, and maybe stealing a couple more of those deep insistent and longing kisses, since he sounded so pretty when you did. You guys could deal with everything else later.

[bkgsdoll]

OCT 1ST: all for you

🖤 bakugou + kirishima, scream!au

Summary: there's been a masked serial killer running around your sweet town, targeting and murdering your friends left and right. however, you soon find out.. there's two killers-- and they're after you. but not in the way you thought. Kinks: knife play, spit, dub-con, kinda maybe some manipulation?, choking, blood kink, coercion, voyeurism, dacryphilia  Warnings: gore, character death

🐈‍⬛╰ 　 first ever kinktober!! im kinda not used to writing oneshots, so i apologize for how choppy this is lmaoo. still hope u enjoy tho! credits in the tags <3 🎀╰ 　 word counter: 5.3k 🐈‍⬛╰ 　 kinktober masterlist 🎀╰ 　 MDNI! this is an 18+ event

"okay your turn..!" your best friend mina giggles, sitting criss-crossed on your bed, a pink duvet draped over her lap. you lay on your stomach next to her wearing a girlish grin while flipping through magazines as you two play two truths and a lie. originally you were supposed to have a double date with your boyfriend katsuki, and mina's boyfriend ejirou tonight, but he canceled due to a family emergency. both of you were a bit bummed (mina threw a fit), but ejirou's not the type to bail for something small. so to bring up your best friend's spirits, you decided to have a sleepover at your house.

you hum softly, flipping a page in a beauty magazine. you rub your glittery lips together and tap your manicured nails against the glossy paper as you think of your lie and truths. suddenly you perk up and tilt your head towards mina. "kay, ready?" you wiggle your brows. she nods with a determined smile.

"i've never done anal--" you start, rolling your eyes with a curled-up lip when the pink-skinned girl points an accusatory finger with a cheeky snort. "lie! wow, that was quick," her dimples deepen as her intrepid smirk grows wider.

you hold your mouth shut to conceal a small laugh as she boasts. "let me finish!!" you let out a giggle, pinching her fleshy thigh. she yelps and rubs her nipped skin before quieting down. you lift your chin up with a goofy smile. "anddd i've never gotten drunk before... and! i'm gonna be a slutty witch for halloween this year." you finish with a confident grin. mina's cocky grin falters, a small pout forming while her face pinches in thought.

a finger taps her chin with a hum. "okay, i retract my previous statement. you're too goody two shoes to get drunk, and you are not basic sooo the lie is you're gonna be a slutty witch this year!-- am i right?!" she grabs your shoulder, shaking you lightly. you giggle, nodding your head. "no fair. you're too good at this." you flop on your back, folding your arms with a playful pout.

mina has thrown huge halloween bashes every year since freshman year in high school. fyi, it's not the large amount of people that makes the parties so huge. it was the drama. the loud arguments over who should've won the "costume awards". yes. this is a real thing that you, mina, and ochako came up with back in high school. anyhow, you're still unsure of what you're dressing up as this year. for the past two, you and katsuki matched (and won the "cunt couple" category both times too). you make a mental note to text him later.

"we should go out tonight! like ding dong ditch as a pre-halloween jest." mina chirps, tumbling off your bed and leaping to the full-body mirror against your wall. you turn to your side, leaning your cheek on your palm as you watch the bubbly girl fix her hair. "right, maybe if we were eleven," you tease, sticking out your tongue. she chuckles, fluffing her soft curls before letting out a gasp. "we should pick up toru and carve pumpkins!" she suggests, eyes brightening. the girl gasps and squeals, "call her!"

toru was more mina's friend than yours. since high school, you never really enjoyed hanging out with her that much. she's snooty and petty, traits you're not very fond of. almost everyone around you understands your miniature distaste-- including mina, but being the sweet girl she is, always tries to make others feel included. you pull your hello kitty cased phone off the nightstand and pull up toru's number before lifting it to your ear. mina plops down next to you, fixing the bows in your hair while the line rings. "she's not answering," you whisper with a frown. she giggles, pinching your side. "maybee she's with ojiro.."

you're brought to voicemail where you hear toru's bubbly voice. you huff, twirling a strand of your hair. when it beeps, you splurt out, "hey! me and mina are coming over with pumpkins and candles in a few so get ojiro out of there don't be mad okay see you in a bit!" you giggle and hang up before grabbing your purse and rushing out the door with mina.

"we should've gotten smaller ones.." mina whines, heaving a large orange pumpkin with both arms.

you huff, struggling to carry yours. "it's just a small walk, we'll be fine." you chuckle at the girl's sloppy walking. she sticks her tongue out with a little laugh. you two cross the street and stay to the right side of the sidewalk as you make your way to hagakure's. it's quiet and peaceful. the nightly autumn breeze brushes against your cable knit sweater as you walk.

mina exhales dreamily. "i've missed these. getting together and acting like little girls again. i only feel like that with you guys. eji's been hanging out with bakugou a lot more than me lately, it makes a girl feel kinda sucky."

you frown. boys will be asshole boys. "awe, honey. i love being with you. you can call me whenever you feel lonely!"

this brings a gentle smile back on her face. unlike your best friend, you're glad katsuki's with ejirou more often, actually, you urged him to hang out. you realized him spending almost every day with you during, in-between, and after classes couldn't have been healthy, so you suggested having bro-time with his "most favorable" friend.

you reach toru's house shortly, walking up the driveway sluggishly. the lights are on, she must be home. "i hate being outside at night." you hear mina whisper as you lug your pumpkin up the white porch steps. mina stays at the bottom, dropping her big pumpkin on the floor and massaging her arms. you gently rest yours on the porch before skipping to the front door. you're able to see through the transom in the middle of it, and your eyes widen in terror. there's broken glass scattered on the entryway floor and a fallen painting nearby. right before you smush your hand on the doorbell, you hear a bloodcurdling scream from behind you. you quickly whip around and stomp down the stairs to your shaking friend.

mina's eyes are gushing tears, her hands pressed tightly against her jaw-dropped mouth. she's looking away from you towards the lawn in the distance. "what's wrong!?! what happened??" your hand grazes her shoulder to soothe her whimpers, but she chokes on a sob, clearly not able to form any words. she just keeps staring ahead. you turn to face the direction her eyes are fixed on. and your heart drops to your stomach.

there, on the tree you used to sit under all together, hangs your friend toru with her insides on the outside. your entire body feels weak. you drop to your knees, mina shrieking when you do. "CALL THE COPS!!" you scream, sobbing loudly. with trembling hands, mina pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials 911.

you're hardly hearing anything around you, including mina, as she breathes in and out rapidly, explaining the situation to the police. "they're-- they're on the way." mina hiccups, dropping down next to you, latching onto your arm with both hands. "oh my god..." she squeezes her eyes shut and digs her face into your side, her tears pouring onto your sweater. you suddenly feel nauseous, but you can't stop gawking at the tree. your jaw is locked open and teardrops leak into your mouth. you see flashes of red and blue reflecting across the grass after a few minutes, but you can't move.

when the cops arrived, they had asked you and mina far too many questions for either of you to comprehend in the moment. you tried to be the strong one and blurt out as much as you knew. you didn't see anyone nearby when you'd arrived. you could tell that didn't help the officers much. as they investigated the property, you called katsuki, choking out what happened. he got to hagakure's house in under five minutes. "her poor parents." mina had croaked, her throat heavily sore from screaming and crying. she hadn't let go of you the entire time.

when katsuki and ejirou pulled up, you dragged mina over to them where she fell into eji's large arms and burst out crying again after just calming down. "what.. happened?" he muttered, looking at the scene while petting his girlfriend's hair consolingly. you clutched the front of katsuki's shirt and dug your face into his chest. "holy shit," he exhaled heavily, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "fuckin hell. were you hurt?" he curses, pulling you away and inspecting you, both hands on your cheeks. you were drained, it appeared so obviously on your face. you very lightly shook your head, mindlessly fingering the fabric of your boyfriend's long-sleeve. "jus wanna go home." you mumble. like mina, your throat is exhausted and raspy. katsuki nods immediately, slapping kiri on the back before tugging you to his car.

the next week was torture. mainly because mina, your cheerful bubbly girl, was in shambles. she only went to some of her classes, usually the ones in the late afternoon, and hardly talked to anyone. you didn't let this get in the way of your academics, however. of course you were upset-- though you never really liked her, she was still just a young girl figuring out her life. and no matter what it was that triggered her killer, she didn't deserve to have her guts spilled out. literally.

sometimes when you go to sleep in your once safe bed with your muscular boyfriend's arms wrapped around you, the image of toru hanging from her tree with a shocked face flashes in your mind.

another week passed, it was better than the last. mina was slowly but surely getting back to her usual self. halloween was inching closer, and you decided that having an even larger party this year might lift your best friend's spirits. and of course, she adored this idea. you two and kiri invited everyone you knew! you planned your costume, you were going to be a cute little vampire and katsuki.. well, you weren't sure until later in the day.

"oh gosh sukiii..!" you squealed, fisting your boyfriend's blond hair. his face was squished in between your thighs, slurping up your squelchy cunt like it was his last meal. "babyyyy.." you whined, tugging on his hair harder. that's when you felt sharp canines dig into your inner thigh. you gasped, throwing your head back, your hips unconsciously rutting against katsuki's face harder. "be patient baby," he muttered, pulling back slightly to stare at your pussy, pinching your little clit with two long fingers. "hey!" you let out a small cry, staring down at the amused man with a pout. he smirks, dragging a finger through your folds. "maybe i should be a werewolf this year, hah?" he jokes, rubbing his digit up and down.

the night of the party, katsuki sits at the end of the bed with a dopey grin on his face, listening to you ramble about how excited you are. he thought your outfit was adorable. you wore a frilly white miniskirt with a showy pink corset, lined with pretty white bows. you best believe he was taking professional-level pics for your instagram.

"we're gonna be late, sweets." katsuki reminds you, glancing at his phone for the time. you're quickly applying mascara with your tongue poked out when a large warm hand is placed on your soft thigh, gently massaging your flesh. he rolls his eyes as you unbutton the top of his flannel. "you look so good!!" you swoon, playfully throwing your hand on your heart. katsuki's costume was simple, really. he borrowed a green flannel from izuku, cut it up with some scissors to look like claw marks (he'll have to buy izu a new shirt..) and threw on a pair of ripped jeans. "how are people gonna know what you are??" you asked him earlier, both hands on your hips. he shrugged, "no one's gonna be paying attention to me, who cares?"

he subtly puffed his chest out at your compliment, mumbling out a small "thanks peach," before twirling your fingers into his own. he looked down at you seriously. "tonight'll be fun nd shit, but you needa be good, kay?" katsuki squishes your cheeks with a veiny hand. your squeezed grin makes him chuckle lightly, pulling away to tenderly kiss your glossy lips. you giggle, grabbing onto his large hand with both of yours. "sweets." he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. you hum, nodding your head. "m always good," you tell him with a silly smile. he sticks his tongue out boyishly before standing and pulling you up with his hand.

the party's roaringly active, the thumping bass from the large speakers reverberating through your chest as you and katsuki walk hand-in-hand into mina's house. you spot a small group of your friends from high school standing in a corner, chatting with some people you recognize from campus. the cozy home was decorated head to toe in halloween decorations, hanging bats and ghosts adorn the ceiling, and cobwebs fill every little corner. "hey lovebirds!" a familiar voice calls out. you turn your head and beam at kaminari, dragging a grimacing katsuki along to join the cluster.

mina grabs your arm from your boyfriend, tugging you down to sit next to her on a small couch. kami sits perched on the arm, both leather-covered arms crossed as he tries to appear intimidating. "what the fuck 're you?" katsuki digs his hands into his denim pockets, slouching over kaminari with a glower.

he scoffs in surprise, dropping his arms in defeat. "i'm aku! from that manga you literally gave to me, dude!!" he whines. bakugou turns his head back to you, clearly not interested in whatever loser villain denki's cosplaying.

"where's eji?" you ask mina, fixing the red hood on her head. she held a little brown basket in her lap, picking at a chipped piece of rattan with manicured nails.

"he went to go grab beers with izuku and hanta." she waves her hand dismissively. "costume awards start in ten minutes!!" she squeals, clapping her hands pertly. you smile toothily, analyzing the turnout. some lesbians were making out with a huddled group around them yelling out cheers, red plastic cups filled everyone's hands, and there was far too much twerking going on. you gasp when a girl who was just shaking her ass onto a very uninterested spiderman lifted her hands off her knees and slipped face forward onto the ground.

kaminari caught this too, letting out an "oooh.." with a wince. he clicked his tongue before taking a sip out of his cup. "y'think she'll give me a lap dance if i go help her up?" he wiped his mouth with his sleeve before shoving the cup into your hand, not waiting for an answer and rushing off. you giggle, pouring some of his drink into your mouth.

mina laughs, swirling the liquid in her cup around. "atleast he's not a pussy anymore,"

bakugou leans against the arm of the sofa, folding his arms. "now he jus wants t'eat it."

you look up at him, letting out an airy chuckle as you lean into his muscly figure. he looks amazing like this. izuku's flannel being a little too figure-hugging, clings to his body, accentuating his brawny biceps and thick pecs. his jawline's sharp enough to stab a man, and his gorgeous, almost distracting face looks enough to eat. damn, he did his eyeliner really well. he smirks at your staring, brightening his eyes and wiggling his brows mockingly.

tsu speaks for the first time this night with a quiet warning. "euhh, look who's coming over,"

...who the hell invited camie?

the gorgeous girl saunters over in her stupid police officer costume that barely grasps her bouncy tits. her finger taps her bottom lip seductively as she reaches your corner. katsuki lightly hums at your sudden discomfort.

without any greeting, camie points to your outfit. "way weird. what are you supposed to be?"

you exhale, "a vampire. it's nice to see you too, camie."

the whole thing between you and her started with katsuki. you thought it ended once he barked in her face telling her to back off, but she still believes she has a chance with him.

she lets out a tiny "eh" and turns to katsuki, pressing a hand into her hip with a smile. "hey hottie! kinda lame costume, but you still look totes fresh. i'm gonna slide over to the kitchen and grab some punch or somethin fetch, don't miss me too much 'kay byeee!" she waved before swaying away.

mina snorts, leaning her head onto your shoulder. katsuki rolls his eyes, grunting something about "no fuckin boundaries".

"i think she and yuga would get along great," mina smirks, standing up.

you raise a brow. "where you goin?"

"awards are in a few, duh! go put your fangs in, i left them on my dresser!!" she giggles before running away. you smile widely, your favorite part of the night is coming up. katsuki clears his throat.

"i'll come wit'cha. jus gimme a sec-- y'want somethin to drink honey?" he pets the back of your head. you sweetly grin, nodding and getting up as well. he kisses your cheek, mutters "be right back" and heads to the other room.

you mingle near the couch, mildly dancing to the pulsing music. maybe a minute has passed since katsuki left, when you hear a wail, a muffled scream pierce the air. some others heard it too, their heads turned near the back door. you're about to go investigate when kirishima comes up behind you, sliding a red solo cup into your hand. "oh hey eiji--" you take the cup from him. you suck in a breath. "i just heard a scream... maybe we should go check it out.." you mutter, gaze fixed on the back door where some people started gathering.

the perky redhead hums, taking a look at the crowd before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "i think they got it. pinky told me to get you your fangs real fast before the contest starts!" he exclaims, rambling about his costume while leading you up the stairs where you steal one last look at the backyard door before heading into mina's girly bedroom.

kirishima stalks silently behind you, slowly creeping in. the lights are off and the sun has already been set. you can hardly see shit. you squint at your best friend's dresser, hand fumbling around trying to find your plastic fangs. "can you turn on a light plea--"

you cut yourself off when a large warm body presses against your back. what the fuck is he doing?? just as you're about to speak again, the ceiling light suddenly flickers on, and you see ejirou standing by the door. your eyes widen.

a familiar deep, rough voice purrs in your ear. "hey."

you gasp, spinning around quickly. your boyfriend, your katsuki, stands tall in the bedroom, flannel shirt unbuttoned and blood splattered all over. and he looks. so fucking cocky. your horrified stare slowly drags towards the ground behind him, where camie lies with her eyes bulged out and her neck covered in slashes. katsuki can feel your quick heavy breath hot against his throat, and he grins.

"dumb bitch won't get in the way of us anymore, huh?"

you jaw slacks open, ready to scream, but nothing comes out. you hear a lock click on the door. your boyfriend is relaxed like nothing is wrong. he sighs, lifting a hand to twirl a strand of your hair.

"knew you wanted this. but you were too scared to do it yourself. my poor baby, lost in what society forces you to think." katsuki's gruff voice drones. "y'wanted to be so fuckin perfect, right? boring like those extras."

you watch kirishima pull a knife out of katsuki's hand, hastily wiping the blood off on his pants. your chest heaves up and down, struggling to ignore the excited expression etched on the sweet boy's face. bakugou grunts.

"maybe that's why ya tried to push me away. 'spend time with kiri, katsuki, it'll be good fa you'... do ya not love me anymore?" his hand darts to his pec, holding his heart teasingly. he knows he's right about you having.. unnatural urges. but how the fuck did he know that? and he's all proud of himself, arrogant bastard. but that's your katsuki. fuck, you weren't ever gonna actually kill someone!

while you were stuck inside your head, his hands reached to your hips, slowly guiding you to mina's cozy bed. your skirt gets flipped up and panties pulled down to your ankles. you suck in another breath, squeezing your eyes shut.

your boyfriend starts to rub your pussy with small circles. your eyes are all hazy and glossed over, you can't help but feel stirred up by all this, no matter how wrong it is. you yelp when you feel two thick fingers pinch your clit. you lift your head to see your boyfriend quirking an eyebrow, waiting for his answer. you let out a quiet moan, tilting your head back again, your hips gently rocking into his idle fingers. "o-of course i love you.. s'much suki.." you whimper, staring at your hunky katsuki with dumb eyes.

this swells his heart, a proud smirk curling onto his lips. "course ya do. such a perfect girl, huh?" he coos, gently stroking your pussy.

kirishima watches from a wooden chair with a small grin and slightly widened eyes. the sight of you bare, his best friend's girl. tears pooling in your pretty eyes as your cunt gushes arousal. katsuki's crimson eyes catch this, a thin scowl creasing his features. "oi," he grunts, removing his attention from you. ejirou lightly shakes his head and opens his eyes wider when meeting katsuki's, who lets out a huff. "you wanna fuck my girl or somethin'?" the blond spits, his voice deep and rough.

kiri's cheeks sting as he swallows hard and glances back at you. his expression alters into a semi-confident beam. "yeah, man. i do."

if you were paying more attention, you would've visibly cringed at his words. katsuki's never, not once, liked when another man viewed you in any special aspect. you were his, and he made that very clear. though he doesn't curse out his friend or even bark at him to leave. his eyes smooth over to yours, calm and nonchalant. you huff, an angry pout forming on your lips. your thighs squeeze shut, but katsuki simply pries them back open.

"don't be a brat." he pinches the chubby flesh of your ass, jaw clenching.

"you killed them!" you cry, a little sob falling out of your throat. what you said isn't really what you mean, and bakugou knows it. your mouth says one thing, but your pinched eyebrows and puffed out cheeks truthfully tell him, i wanted to do it.

"why don't you get it?" katsuki sighs, kneading your ass with his thumbs. "we did it all for you, princess."

your cunt throbs, and you can feel your mascara running down your face. fuck it, you can't pretend any longer. your breath shakes as you exhale with a sniffle. "thank you sukiii.." you whisper, shutting your eyes shyly. you feel a kiss on your stomach as the bed shifts and your boyfriend crawls on top of you. suddenly bloodcurdling screams reverberate through the house. katsuki groans. "fucking shitty hair, why didn't you hide it better." he states rather than asks, shaking his head in annoyance.

kirishima chuckles, playing with the used knife. "dude, i had like two minutes to do it!"

it. you know what they're talking about. the scream from outside. you knew that shit sounded familiar.

"w-was it mineta?" you manage to squeak out. bakugou clicks his tongue, starting to push his fingers into your slicked hole.

"yeah, that asshole."

you moan, letting your head fall back onto the mattress. lengthy fingers pump in and out of your pussy with calculation. katsuki smugly grins at your blissful face. "yknow what ei? i think m getting a little hungry."

he slides back down the bed, face right in front of your messy cunt. he hums lightly before licking a long stripe from inbetween your cheeks to your sensitive little clit. you sigh at the tingle. your boyfriend watches you through lidded eyes when he starts sucking on your bud and fingers continue to push into you quickly. his free hand grips your inner thigh while he tugs on your clit harshly.

every lick and suck is given with precision. he's proud he was able to get rid of those jackasses for you (who is he kidding, he didn't give a shit about any of them either) and wants to make you feel good, let you know it's okay. "such a good girl," he mutters against your slit.

his fingers pull out of your tight hole to rub fast circles on your clit and dig his face into your pussy, nose bumping under his fingers as he ravages your juices.

your hips stutter and a lengthy squeal falls out of your mouth as a wave of pleasure washes over you. you can't see it, but ejirou's eyes darken as you release on your boyfriend's face. he's panting, his rocky hard-on only becoming even more visible, yet he holds his hands at his sides, refusing to touch himself.

"idiot, gimme." katsuki demands, holding his hand out towards him, keeping his gaze on your blissed post-orgasm face.

kirishima stalks over, dropping the sharp knife into his best friend's hand. bakugou sighs, gripping the knife as he leans forward to cut open your pretty pink corset. you gasp, but he shushes you gently. "i'll just buy you another," he mumbles.

ejirou sits back down in the creaky chair, clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon.

"what would pinky say if she saw this.." katsuki jeers, not meeting kiri's startled glare. "you, about to watch her best friend get fucked into next week." he chuckles tauntingly. he pulls your corset off your body and unclips your bra with his free hand while the other rubs circles into your hip.

he sighs in relief when your tits bounce free. like they just saved his life. his hand immediately leaves your hip to fondle one while leaning in to mush his lips onto yours, the other hand latching onto your throat. you whimper into the kiss when he sticks his tongue inside, sucking on yours. while he's distracting you with his sloppy lips, he removes his hand from your tit to tug down the zipper of his jeans and pull them down along with his boxers before stepping out of them.

he grabs ahold of his knife again, slightly pulling away from your mouth and giving your neck a squeeze. you feel his erect cock brush against your thigh. you bat your lashes like a pretty fawn, cupping his cheek with your hand. he unconsciously leans into your touch before raising the knife to your shoulder. you feel the razor-sharp blade graze your skin ever so lightly, swallowing quietly.

he sighs, kissing the palm of your hand. "y'wanna be mine angel?"

you scoff, "i'm already yours doofus."

he smirks, kissing you one more time before digging the blade into your flesh. you yelp with his hand pressed against your mouth. "ow, fuck!" your whine comes out muffled.

"easy, man!" kirishima exclaims from the stands with a worrisome expression.

after a few seconds, the knife is lifted to your boyfriend's mouth, licking the blood off as he stares at his initials tattooed into your skin. he throws the blade across the room, adjusting himself right above you. he grabs his dick to rub his leaking tip through your sloshing folds. you whine needily. katsuki smirks before pushing in. the stretch hardly burns with your waterpark of cunt being prepped.

he's halfway in when he pulls out and slams back in. you mewl, gentle hands gripping his shoulder blades. he lifts one of your legs, his pace speeding up. his mean cock pumped into you roughly, just how you liked it. "fuckk! 'ts so good sukii..!"

you release a long string of moans and squeals, the passion of your murderous boyfriend's fat dick turning you dumb. he coos, bucking his hips up harder, "my girl's so slutty, huh?" he taunts. "takin me so well- fhuck,"

unlike katsuki, who was evidently composed, you were a babbling mess.

"ohhh.. you're fucking crazy!" you moan, throwing your head back. he chuckles, sucking a lovebite into your neck in response. your mind becomes foggy as you cling to him, drool dripping down your chin. he leans up, licking up the spit from your face before grabbing the back of your head and smashing his lips onto yours, pushing your saliva back in with his tongue. you were completely fucked out with a fuzzy brain, and all you can think of is katsuki, katsuki, katsuki.

he adored being able to make you act to whorish, have his sweet innocent girl screaming his name like a slut. his heavy balls slapped against the curve of your ass while he pounded his fat dick with an almost fatter smirk.

he groans your name, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he nibbles on your flushed cheeks, drawing blood. you cry out, your back arching.

"y'gonna cum, sweetheart? in front of that idiot?" bakugou teases, nudging his head towards ejirou.

your vision's blurry, pretty tears clouding your sight. you blink them away, let them flow down your face so you can see your beloved, the man who slaughtered the ones you despised. your nails scratch down his back as his large tip reaches your g-spot with ease. "oh fff-ffuck! please, pleaseee, need to-- oh god katsuki!" you scream as his fingers ferociously attack your clit. it was enough to have you squirt around him, your back arching so that your tits were pressed against his. "shit, m gonna cum. all for you baby.. FUCK!" katsuki cums with a groan, pumping his seed into you lazily.

kirishima awkwardly clears his throat, abruptly standing up from his chair and heading towards the window he skillfully climbed through every week. "i'm gonna, uh, go see what's happenin' with the cops." he cups his rock hard dick with his hand, blushing furiously. "and um maybe we should-- okay, yeah, i'm going." he sighs, realizing neither of you are listening. he pulls open the window and crawls out, climbing down a tree.

katsuki digs his head into your shoulder where his initials bleed leisurely. he kisses the mark before dropping his full weight onto you. you grunt, tangling your hands into his ashy blond hair.

he hums, "y'gonna help me with 'em next time?" he looks up at you with soft eyes despite the topic of discussion.

you heavily exhale, biting your lip. "katsuki, i dunno. i was never gonna kill--"

"aht aht aht. what're you talking about? you tellin me you bought that rope that's layin in the closet for no reason? did ya plan on going fishing or somethin? cuz i don't think you'd like it baby." he stares at you with a confused frown. you huff, wrapping your legs around his. "not fair," you pout. he smirks, pecking your chin.

"you wanna know someone else i killed?"

"who?"

"that damn deku before i took his shirt."

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away. 

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?" 

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock. 

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment. 

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it. 

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you. 

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil. 

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast. 

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage. 

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips. 

"Just... peachy." 

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth. 

"You always have options." 

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?" 

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated. 

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin. 

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down. 

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time. 

"It's me," Blue greets kindly. 

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good." 

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes. 

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them. 

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

[turcott3]

would you maybe be interested in writing a fic about having a threesome with Jamie and cam🤔🤔

(OFC I WOULD BE INTERESTED) (and here it is)

wicked games

jamie drysdale x fem! reader x cam york

warnings?: SMUT, alcohol, cursing, threesome, unprotected sex, oral m and f receiving, nasty and filthy basically

masterlist

-

“have you seen the way you look at him?” your friend yells over the sound of the loud music.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, you know exactly who i really want.” you reply sternly, well, as sternly as you could for being hammered at stagecoach.

“be fucking serious with yourself y/n. look at them, do you see what cam can give you versus what jamie can give you?” she says. you couldn’t deny that she was half right in the fact of you wanting to yank cam’s pants down, even if it was in front of everyone. you’d craved his touch for the many months you’d known him, the thigh tat making you horny each time his shorts ride up a little bit, but you didn’t think he was capable of providing that safety you’d always longed for since you were a little girl begging god every night in your prayers to turn you into a princess and marry a handsome prince. that was something jamie could easily provide you. you’re snapped out of your thoughts as she shoves you lightly with a chuckle, sending you bumping into cam. your heart leaping in your chest with nerves.

“careful there babe.” he laughs, hands placed carefully on your waist to help you stay on your feet.

“woah sorry.” you say, placing light hands on his chest with a small laugh. a nervous laugh. you danced and sang with cam for longer than your sober self would allow, but you weren’t upset. you found yourself with your back to him, fighting the strong urge to grind your ass up against him, in hopes of making some physical advance.

“cam.” you whine, turning around, gripping on his shirt to get his full attention.

“what is it?” he asks dipping his head down to yours.

“i need a bathroom.” you say and he nods, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you through the swamp of people. when you arrive outside the porta potties, you turn to cam, a confused look spreading on his face.

“okay well, i don’t need the bathroom.”

“then what are we doing at a bathroom?” he scoffs, you waving him over to whisper in his ear.

“so you can bend me over behind one of these things and fuck me.”

“you naughty naughty girl.” he giggles, a tease lining his seductive tone.

“please cam.” you ask grabbing onto his hand, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. moments later, he’s tugging you behind him sneakily finding his way behind the structures without too many eyes on you.

“can we make this quick? this is technically fucking illegal.” he says, sounding like a smart ass but you nod in response. you turned around, pulling the short skirt of your dress over your plump ass, placing your hands on the plastic of the structure in front of you as your heard the quiet unzip of his denim shorts. it didn’t take long for him to get where he needed, his fingers pushing your thong to the side and sliding his dick right into you with ease, considering you’d been wet practically since your friend shoved you into him.

“fuck.” you moan quietly, praying there was no one in the stall you were pressed up against. his hands grabbed firmly onto your hips, pulling you onto him harshly, his cock stretching you out with ease.

“such a bad fucking girl huh?” he grunts out behind you as he wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling you back toward him.

“y-yes.” you reply as his thrusts quicken.

“you don’t want me.” he teases.

“i do cam, fuck, yes i do.”

“i know you do baby, but not like you want him. if you really wanted me, you wouldn’t let me fuck you behind a porta potty at a concert like a fucking drunk slut.” he teases further, his thrusts growing faster and deeper, your knees locking as an orgasm came crashing over you out of nowhere.

“cam oh my god.” you moan out loudly, your hands gripping onto the wrist that held your hair, your knuckles turning white, his thrusts continuing their quick pace.

“get on your knees.” he says pulling out of you quickly, which you of course don’t hesitate. you find yourself on your knees in front of him as he came on your tongue, leaving no mess to be cleaned. you pull your cum covered tongue back into your mouth and swallow it like it was frosting off a cinnamon roll.

he brought out a completely different side of you than the usual, chill personality you possessed, and you were scared that you just got addicted. you stood up off the ground, not even bothering to fix your panties, pulling your skirt back over your ass.

-

you found your way back to your group and stayed for the last few songs before deciding to beat the traffic and leave a little bit early.

“your knees?” your friend asks.

“oh um.” you start, looking down at the dirt and small cuts the dripped on your knees.

“i fell when cam was helping me back from the bathroom.” you lie, and frankly she believes you….. maybe.

“we’ll make sure you get those cleaned before you go to bed.” she says, you sat between her and jamie.

because who else would it be.

“i can help you out with them.” he smiles lightly.

“thank you jamie.” you reply, your language slurred as you finish your last drink, tossing it out the window and leaning your head on jamie’s shoulder, wrapping your arms around his.

“yeah you’re welcome.” he giggles, patting your thigh lightly.

you just lied to everyone. and now jamie is gonna help you clean the cuts you got from his best friend cumming straight onto your tongue, behind a porta potty about 50 feet away from him.

what the fuck.

you arrived back to the house and found yourself sat on the bathroom counter with jamie, knelt down cleaning your knees for you. you couldn’t help but realize the lack of coverage you had on your vagina considering you’d ignored the chance to pull your thong back over it after cam fucked you, and you couldn’t do it now. when jamie looked back down, you pulled your thighs together, covering your pussy from view. thankfully, he never bothered to look, which was something you admired about him.

he wasn’t looking for any reason to sexualize you like cam did. not that it bothered you when he did, you just loved the stark difference between the two, yet they were best friends.

“thank you jamie.” you say as he places the last small bandaid on your knee.

“of course. maybe i should be the one taking you to the bathroom next time, i wouldn’t have let you hit the ground.” he giggles as you open your arms to hug him, which he graciously accepts.

maybe he would’ve done it too, if it were him i took to the bathroom instead.

who are you kidding? he would never.

“alright, i’m gonna go try and rest, you should too.” he says, helping you down from the counter.

“i’ll see you in the morning.” you smile lightly at him as he bids you goodnight and sees himself out, disappearing to his room rather quickly.

“fuck me dude.” you groan squeezing your eyes shut. under no condition were you sleeping tonight. you couldn’t stop your mind from racing.

after hours of laying awake on your bed checking the time and playing your stupid games, it hit 6 am.

“fuck it.” you say sitting up, not a wink of sleep under your belt as you make your way downstairs, flopping down on the couch, flipping on the tv.

“oh look who’s up.” you hear from the front door, looking over to see the ginger that drove you mad.

“i couldn’t sleep.”

“no kidding, it’s fucking 6 am and you’re awake.” he scoffs.

“we have such a long day and i’m running off like five total minutes of sleep.” you complain.

“i mean you still have time.” he replies, flopping down on the couch next to you, setting his water bottle down on the coffee table.

“cam i really need to go to sleep.”

“well why can’t you?”

“i just need to shut my mind off. last night is keeping me up.”

“well maybe i can help you with that.” he replies, as if he’s not the reason you can’t fall asleep. his hand find its way onto your leg as he sits at your feet.

“cam i- it’s 6 in the morning.” you say.

“and? no one’s awake. just let me help you huh?” he nods and you groan, growing wet at his gaze all over again.

“cam.” you whisper as he readjusts his position, pulling you closer before tugging at the waistband of your shorts.

“i want to b-“

“but nothing babe. you just have to stay quiet for me.” he smirks, pulling your shorts off of you. famously, you go to bed commando, so it’s not like he had a lot of fabric to fight. he pushes your legs open and locks eyes with you as he kisses teasingly up your inner thigh. when he finally makes contact with your core you let out a breathy gasp, or maybe a sigh of relief.

“god, you taste so good y/n.” he says running his tongue along your clit, retracting briefly to spit out his nasty words that strung you along worse and worse. his tongue made contact once again, twirling and sucking your swollen bud in the best way. your hand gripped tightly on his red locks as he ran his tongue in circles around your clit, your soft moans fighting the urge to grow into loud yelps. you could practically see a galaxy in your eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers gripping onto the outside of your thighs harshly. your hand slapped over your mouth as your long awaited orgasm finally came, washing ever ounce of pain out of your body, shakes rippling through your muscles.

“jesus fucking christ.” you sigh as he pulls away with an evil smirk on his face. he pulls your shorts back onto you before you sit up, grabbing his neck and pulling him to your lips, your tongue diving directly into his mouth, his large hand gripping your jaw from below.

“just had to have a taste for yourself huh?“ he says lowly as he pulls away.

“maybe i just wanted to kiss you.”

“well it doesn’t matter now because, i’m going to shower, so if you care to join you know where i’m at.” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing up and walking away like nothing happened.

“that cheeky fucker.” you say quietly, flopping back down on the couch. just minutes later you were passed out, finally.

“y/n.” you hear someone say above you as your eyes flutter open.

“woah, what time is it?” you groan.

“it’s 10. no one else is up yet but, i made you breakfast since you’re down here.” the mystery figure says before you’re able to get a good look.

jamie.

“breakfast? oh jam, you didn’t have to.” you frown, sitting up.

“well since you were down here i figured i should, here’s your plate.” he says, placing it down on the coffee table in front of you before taking a seat right next to you.

“well i appreciate the gesture, i couldn’t sleep so i came down here a few hours ago. must’ve crashed watching tv.” you giggled nervously, lying straight through your teeth once again.

“happens to the best of us.” he replies, leaning back on the couch with the plate in his hand. the two of you sat in comfortable silence watching the tv until you were both done.

“will you help me pick my outfit for today?” you ask sweetly, toying with the ends of his shorts.

“yeah of course.” he nods, setting his empty plate on yours before following you up the stairs. he shuts the door quietly behind you and sits on your bed, waiting for each outfit.

“what do we think?” you ask, on outfit number three at this point.

“yep. this is the one.” he nods, standing up off your bed and walking closer to you, standing almost flush against your back.

“are you sure?” you ask again, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

“yes, you look beautiful.” he says, you could tell he wanted to put his hands on you but was afraid you’d turn him away. boldly, you took matters into your own hands, grabbing both of his hands and placing them on your hips.

“y/n i-“

“i could tell you wanted to touch me somewhere, you were just scared.” you giggle, turning around in his grip.

“well um, i-“

“jamie it’s fine. i promise you i am more than okay with you putting your hands on me.” you smile, wrapping your arms over his shoulder.

“okay, i just wasn’t sure.” he blushes intensely, your hands locking in the back of his neck. hesitantly, he closes the gap between you, connecting your lips softly. only for a few moments were your lips planted on his before he pulled away.

“oh wow, i’m so sorry.” he giggles, stepping back.

“don’t apologize jam….. i loved it.” you smile, placing your hands in his cheeks, capturing him for one more short kiss.

“i’ll see you down stairs.” he says nervously, stepping out of your room as you giggle to yourself.

you’re fucked.

-

“no i’ve gotta take you back, you’re too drunk.” jamie says, practically holding you up.

“but i don’t wanna leave them, and im not that drunk.” you slur.

“i’m plastered and you’re making me look sober, i’m taking you back to the house.” he insists as he grabs onto your arm, tugging you out of the crowd, almost like you’d wish it were him last night.

god you wanted him. so badly.

the two of you safely made it back to your airbnb and he helped you to your room, placing you on your bed.

“i have a confession, maybe two.” you grit your teeth, grabbing onto his hand.

“okay?” he questions.

“i fucked cam behind a porta potty last night…..” you paused reading his expression.

“and then he ate me out on the couch this morning because it would quote, help me go to sleep.” you continue and he sighs, letting go of your hand.

“please don’t be upset jamie, i don’t have any emotional connection with him, not like i do with you.” you beg and he nods, seemingly understanding the situation, he turns to leave.

“jamie wait.” you say sitting up.

“what is it?” he replies turning back to you.

“stay jamie, please.” you beg, poking your bottom lip out.

“i figured you’d just wanna go to sleep.” he says scratching the back of his head, walking back toward your bed.

“no i want you to stay, i wanna….” you trailed off, stopping yourself.

“you wanna what?” he says sitting down on your bed. without a response you climb into his lap, reconnecting your lips again, his hands finding their way to your ass as he deepened the kiss. you may have been drunk but you knew this was exactly what you wanted. what you’d been longing for.

you pulled away after a few moments, shoving him to his back as you climbed over him, reconnecting your lips again, palming at the ever growing bulge in his pants, small whimpers leaving his mouth between kisses.

“y/n.” he says sitting up with you, scooting back against the headboard. quickly, the both of you discarded your clothes. sex was on both of your minds now.

“finally get me a taste of you.” you say lowly as you take his hard cock into your hand, pumping him slowly.

“fuck.” he groans as your lips make contact with his sensitive tip, the taste of his salty precum covering your tongue as you took almost all of him into your mouth. he was too big without the assistance of your hand, firmly holding him from the base. you pulled him out of your mouth with a loud pop before climbing over him, straddling his hips with yours. anxiously, you sink onto him. the sensation of his cock hitting the sweet spot deep inside you was everything you’d imagined and more. he filled you all the way up, zero room for more.

“fuck.” you whine out as his hands found their way back to your ass as you bounced up and down on him at a quick pace. jamie brought your lips together once again to silence your moans as you rolled your hips back and forth.

“god you’re so hot riding me like this.” he grunts, his hands gripping more harshly on your ass.

“you don’t even know how long i’ve been wanting to get you like this.” you say in a breathy voice, reaching closer to your climax, taking his face into your hands and locking eyes with him.

“fuck i’m coming.” you whine as an orgasm shreds your muscles, finding yourself flush against his chest as he pumps you full of his milky climax, something you hadn’t let cam do.

“hey yall wanna go to- oh.” you hear a voice open the door, but not shutting it. you turn your head as sharply as you could to see cam standing in the doorway. something in your was telling you to make him leave, but you couldn’t.

“come in here.” you say sitting up, as he hesitantly shuts the door and locks it behind him.

“uhm, okay.” he says walking slowly over to the bed as you beckon him over.

“take off your clothes.” you insist and of course he does so. after all, when it came to you, he’d do anything. you peel yourself off of jamie’s chest, telling him not to move as you shifted to the end of the bed and sat on your knees, waving him over.

“just like yesterday.” you whisper to him as you take his already hardening cock into your hand, spitting on it aggressively as you worked the saliva into his skin.

“jesus christ.” he groans run in his hands over his face.

“what? you know you love it when i’m on my knees for you.” you reply as he shuts his eyes throwing his head back, taking him into your mouth, your tongue focusing on his sensitive head.

“god.” he scoffs before you pull out, turning around back to jamie and positioning yourself on all fours.

“don’t worry jamie baby, i’m didn’t forget about you, just had to make sure he was ready.” you say, taking his cum covered cock back into your hand as cam grasped onto your hips, pulling you onto him with a moan.

“now you can watch what you do to me huh?” you say making eye contact with him before running your tongue up his length. sucking him clean of the mess he’d made. jamie takes your hair into his hands so he can see your face as you take him with cam thrusting harshly into you, your moans vibrating his cock.

“god you’re so fucking hot.” cam says slapping your ass suddenly, a yelp leaving your mouth.

“such a good girl.” jamie says lowly as he takes your cheek into his hand, your face frozen in an O shape as cam thrusted into you so deeply you could hardly form a conscious thought. jamie’s other hand guiding your hand up and down his cock, pumping him firmly and tightly.

“oh my god.” you moan out, somehow mustering up words to say.

“speak up baby.” cam says from behind you.

“fuck.” you yelp out louder as he brought you closer and closer to your next orgasm.

“atta girl.” he replies, you could hear the same devilish smirk in his voice as your muscles began to shake intensely as your orgasm came back in a bigger wave. cam knew better than to finish inside you but he couldn’t help but notice that jamie had, stinging his feelings slightly, but he knew that you wanted jamie in a real way, it could never be him. quickly, he pulls out of you and spurts his seed directly onto your ass.

you felt jamie’s hips begin to stutter and his cock twitch in your hand. you gasped as jamie reached his climax too, all of it hitting you on the lips and on your chin. you found yourself now laid flat on the mattress recovering from the fucking you’d just received, scraping jamie’s cum off your face and sucking it off your fingers, cam using a tissue to clean your ass of his mess.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sigh out, jamie running a soft hand up and down your back, shooing cam out of the room as you smiled at him one last time. carefully, jamie pulls you onto his chest, continuing his soothing motions against your back.

“you did so good y/n. so so beautiful.” he mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to thre top of your head.

“jamie i wanna be with you.”

“i know.” you sighs as you sit up.

“but i know we can’t. i’m not ready yet.” you reply with a frown.

“i’m not really either but, you know i’ll be here waiting whenever we are ready.” he smiles, brushing hair out of your face.

“yeah.” you smile lightly, bringing his lips to yours again.

“i’d say friends with benefits might help us figure it out?” you suggest.

“whatever you want my love.” he replies, his hands placed delicately on your waist.

“i think this means i have to talk to cam in the morning.” you giggle.

“yes it does, i don’t want him fucking on my girl anymore.” you giggles jokingly, your heart tugging at the idea of being his girl.

the next morning you found yourself alone on the couch, waiting for cam to return from his run, which of course like clockwork he did.

“hey y/n.” he says, tossing his rag on the ground next to his shoes.

“we need to talk.” you say and he nods, waking over to you.

“we can’t….. see each other anymore. i’m not saying what we’ve done is a mistake and i’m not saying last night wasn’t fucking amazing but, i really wanna try to peruse something with jamie. i’m sorry.” you explain to him.

“y/n, it’s okay. i already knew.” he replies with a chuckle.

“okay, i’m sorry again. i really enjoyed what we had together though, please know that.”

“i do, and me too. but if you need me, you know where my door is.” he winks, jogging up the steps as you sat in awe.

you’d never been so confused by a man, but luckily he’s not yours. he was just another body under the belt, no strings, no feelings…. or at least no real feelings. not for him, so you think.

what you and jamie had was real. you could feel his affections for you through all his actions, and you’d never do anything to lose that.

maybe…

[ph4ngz]

BACKSEAT LOVE || mechanic!bkg x anxious!reader

PART 1

A/N : ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED YOU GUYS *HAPPY DANCE* :D

It's been two days since your last encounter with that gorgeous mechanic.

You'd be lying if you said he hadn't been the subject of your dreams, daydreams, wet dreams… all you can think about is him. Him and that perfect face, you still remember every splatter of grease and oil laid out on his features, you think you may have burnt the image into your brain.

His card is right there in the pocket of your denim shorts, just begging you to pull it out and stare at it for the nth time this Sunday morning. Your legs kick up and down on the bed as you lay on your tummy, doing nothing to help your friends pack up and get ready to leave the motel. Glancing back up at them, your eyes only seem to lose focus and any thoughts of packing your bags are, surprise, replaced by a certain blonde.

You wanted to call him, you really did. Would it be odd to show up at his garage again after two days without contact? It's possible you've missed your chance with him now that you've basically been ignoring the guy. You could pretend something is wrong with your car as an excuse to apologise! Nah, because then he'd check it out...

"Whatcha thinkin' about babe?" A mischievous, high pitched voice and a bounce of your mattress breaks you out of your inner struggle.

"I wanna see him…" you admit, realising too late that you hadn’t told your friends about Katsuki.

"See who?" Another voice, much more softer than Mina's, pipes up. Not many things can grasp Jiro's attention, but regarding you and boys…

Oh god, here we go. You and your stupid brain. There's no escaping this nonsense now. You can already hear the giggling and terrible impressions and they haven't even started yet.

But really, should you tell them about him? There'd be nothing wrong with that! However, something is telling you to keep him all to yourself. Jealousy? Panic? Perhaps he's so perfect that you're wary of other better girls stealing him away from you?

"Oh, just this guyyy, y'know… just this guy who gave her his number? And he’s a mechanic by the looks of things." Mina reads off the card he had given you that day, you having been completely unaware that she'd swiped it from your pockets until now.

"Hey!" You squirm under her weight, an elbow leaning on you as if you were an armchair as she carries on.

"Is he hot? What does he look like?" Jiro grins and leaps onto the mattress beside Mina, and before too long Uraraka is straddling your lower back, keeping you pinned down.

"Is he like one of those guys in the movies? Like, all sweaty and dirty and dreamy with a nice smile…" Uraraka's eyes trail upward to the spinning ceiling fan as she describes your mechanic with deadly accuracy.

Your eyes widen involuntarily.

"AH! Ochaco's right! You've gotta go see him again! Did he ask you out? Have you called him?" Mina squeals beside you, but then her face falls into a state of great suspense.

You know what's coming now. Sigh.

"Don't tell me you pulled one of your specials…" she guesses ominously, referring to your notorious moments of Boy Anxiety™.

Jiro smiles menacingly from behind her, "D-D-Did you?"

You find a smidge of respect for Uraraka for not joining in although you know she wants to. Rolling your eyes, you respond with a muffled "almost" after throwing your head into the covers out of embarrassment.

The hyperactive trio share a quick, knowing glance and simultaneously drown out the click-clacking of the old fan airing the motel room with a loud "AAHHH", Uraraka shaking your shoulders and Mina slapping the bed sheets.

"Where did you even find that anyways?" Jiro asks softly amidst the noise.

"It was hiding in one of her ass pockets." The pink haired thief replies proudly, jokingly smacking your asscheek and making it jiggle as your face heats up, still concealed by the covers.

The girls gossip about you as if you're not even there, and you decide you're perfectly fine with that if it means nobody is nagging you, so you let them talk. A few minutes pass by without a single word leaving your mouth until a finger messily taps on your bare shoulder.

Craning your head around to rest atop of your crossed arms, you shamefully eye the cutie straddling your back, internally smiling at the way her fringe is tied back on top of her head.

"Mm?" you hum groggily, awaiting her next words.

"I can always ask 'Zuku to give us all a ride home...?"

Your grumpy pout swiftly fades into a light and appreciative curl of your lips at her suggestion...

"...We aren't the only ones goin' for a ride today-"

...But soon enough the grumpy pout returns.

Excited cackling, thumping of dancing feet upon the floor and a group rendition of "tryna' catch me ridin' dirty" that is least to be desired fill the small room.

"UGHHughhhUGhhhhh," You exhale a tired groan into the back of your forearm, a wavering one at that, courtesy of Uraraka twirling an imaginary lasso in her hand and rocking back and forth on you like she's at a rodeo.

Eventually, an amused grin makes its way onto your face, with their antics (Mina's horrific excuse for dancing) too hilarious to even attempt keeping a straight face.

|| || || ||

"Oh, so you know Kacchan?" Izuku Midoriya's question almost has you jump as you open the car door to your driver's seat, curse him from coming up behind you like that.

"Who?" you furrow your brows innocently, your back pocket feeling particularly empty for some odd reason. You subtly glance behind the mess of green hair partially blocking your view at the three of your friends singing along to the radio in the backseat of his car.

"Whoops, sorry! I meant Katsuki." The thick fingers suddenly shoved in your confused face hold and point at a certain card you'd only just pried from someones grabby hands. God, this guy too!? Is everybody here a damn pickpocket?

Hastily snatching the card from Izuku's hand, you stutter an unnerved answer, "U-Uh! Yeah! No! I mean, we only met the other day, that's all..."

No way this bastard is going back in my pocket, you think.

"No need to freak out, promise I'm not being nosy or anything. I was just wondering, seeing as me and him are... I guess you could say childhood friends! He's actually doing some work on my Jeep, hence the basic rent-out. I knowww, I don't look like a Ford guy." He drawls on cheerfully, ignoring how you stuff the card inside your bra. You smirk at his choice to disregard your actions, and force down the invasive questions you so badly want to ask concerning your beloved mechanic.

"You better go before the girls set up a makeshift concert venue in the trunk." Beaming, you gesture to his bouncing vehicle.

"Shit, you're right. Ah, it was nice seeing you again!" Izuku waves whilst stumbling backwards, making you stifle a giggle whilst lowering into your own car.

|| || || ||

Pesky butterflies erupt within your chest when you finally pull over, the garage you so thankfully came across on your way to the motel stood conspicuously along the deserted highway. The garage door is shut this time around, the worn metal glinting under the aureate setting sun. However, the smaller door located at the side of the run-down building displays a twisted 'open' sign hanging behind the chalky window.

You've done it before, you can do it again. That's what you repeat to yourself inside your head as you hesitantly exit your car and approach the door. After a two minute standoff between your nervousness and the handle, you decide "fuck it!" and let yourself inside. You peer out from behind a brick wall separating the entrance from the main garage and it's nice, just like last time. Slow guitar and heavy bass emitting from what sounds like a vintage cassette boombox, the strong scent of gasoline and copper, fake potted plants hung up in every empty wall space unoccupied by shelves and posters, a huge dusty jeep... you can't see him though.

He's still here, you can hear a few faint grunts and the clanking of metal from beyond your place leant against the doorframe. You wonder, is he fixing some other girl's car? What if he isn't groaning for the reasons you think? The garage door is closed. Is somebody here with him? You're probably stupid for coming here after two days with no contact, he's most likely fallen for someone else thinking you would never come back. Subconscious curiosity leads you into the main room, fretful thoughts diminishing with no wall allowing your train of thought to stray from its tracks.

"Katsuki?-"

Your meek call of his name dies out on your tongue when the man himself emerges from behind the raised hood of the jeep with a "hm?". He's still as breathtaking as you remember, you reminisce about your last encounter whilst he's approaching you, his heavy booted feet seeming to send vibrations to your racing heart.

Your knees weaken when you realise the mechanic threw off putting a shirt on this time, specks of splattered oil glistening on his hard abs underneath the warm sunset rays filtering through the blinds. Forcing yourself to pay attention to his face instead of rudely ogling at his body, you come to find that he's secured his scruffy hair back with a clip, just like Uraraka, allowing you to view all of his features. He's been observing you for about a minute now, silently enjoying the way you're studying him as if he were a stone sculpture. Just give him a second, he'll say something eventually.

"Voice disappear or somethin'?" He asks cheekily, the sudden movement of a smirk emerging on his face breaking you out of whatever pesky trance you fell into.

"Oh! Uh, no! No, it's here! I can speak… yeah…" You spew a panicked sentence that would've been incoherent if you'd forced it out any harder. The anxious smile you’re wearing slowly fades as you start to chew on the inside of your cheek, nostrils flaring at how self aware you've become. Gosh, you're so stupid. Why can't you just speak like a normal person!? Stuttering and stumbling all over your words like this must look really sad. You hurl a mental slap at your face, scolding yourself for being so pathetic. Bakugo chuckles through his nose at your timid state and lightly scratches his bare stomach, deciding his next move. A big hand impulsively moves to your bare upper arm, mindlessly stroking your soft skin with his thumb for a short moment.

"Chill, it's just me. Stop acting like 'm gonna turn around and kill you." The man says casually with his usually downturned brows raised in amusement, removing his arm from you to take a few steps back and continue his work behind the jeep's hood. It's just him? JUST HIM? Being killed doesn't seem to be at the top of your list of worries right now, but the possibility increases as you're starting to picture your heart failing on the spot purely because of his existence. How are you supposed to "chill" when the sight of his broad, shiny, tanned, firm chest is enough to coax your eyes to roll back?!

You're thinking so damn hard about what to say as he's working, but nothing is good enough. Maybe you should leave and apologise, save your last ounce of self confidence. Maybe you should tell him the truth about your little anxiety issue. Nah, he wouldn't get it. Would he? Before you can stop yourself, a few words come tumbling out of your mouth to form the most unexpected question that leaves yourself dumbfounded.

"C-Can I kiss you?"

You stop breathing once Bakugo peers at you from behind the metal, mildly surprised and overwhelmed by your sudden request. That was fuckin' quick, he muses. Amidst a moment of fleeting courage, you will yourself to continue even if it's dizzying due to your heart beating a million miles per second.

"I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. Or at least— text you! I got so nervous and my friends all make fun of me whenever I talk to a guy so—"

"C'mere." The blonde gestures with his free hand while the other supports his leaning weight by pressing his palm upon the edge of the hood, spanner held tightly between his fingers. Now or never, you chant to occupy your brain. Head hanging low, you do as he says and come to a halt when only a few inches are left between your bare arm and his. Without another word to spare, Bakugo takes hold of your waist and veers your body to the tight space in front of him, caging you in. You fit underneath the metal canopy, the jeep's ginormous wheels providing some serious height. You're still staring intently at the dirty concrete area uncovered by either of your feet, unknowing of how to react.

The boombox in the corner of the room provides the only sound other than your ragged breathing, the music doing its best job to calm your nerves. You want this. You want this so bad, so don't fuck it up. Just move your damn head, that's it! Tears eventually cloud your vision, but before they can drip to the ground your chin is nudged upwards, letting the salty droplets slide down your heated cheeks. You're forced to look him in the eye whilst his heavy touch travels to the top of your muddled head, narrowed crimson gaze boring into your own, guilty and utterly captivated.

When he gently pulls you in by the nape of your neck, and his surprisingly soft lips make contact with yours... it's like all energy is drained from your body. As you kiss, you find your weakening form melting into his broad and hard chest, gradually tipping closer and closer until your bodies are pressed against one another's. Any thoughts previously occupying your mind have vanished without a trace, brain completely blank and depending entirely on the feeling of instinct. You're both sighing contently through your noses, each noise emitted from one has the other deepen the slanting of their mouth until a tinge of ferocity is thrown into the mix.

Your knees buckle abruptly at one point and breaks the kiss in a way that's too depriving of elation to bear, although Bakugo doesn't appear to care that much as he urgently hoists you up by your thighs to recklessly brush all the nuts and bolts strewn across his desk and replace them with your ass instead. A smile appears on the man's face when he catches your shoulders jerk at the reverberating clangour of metal hitting the floor. He situates himself further between your legs after making sure to shield the back of your head from the wall, worried that he'll hurt you with his ungentlemanly tendencies. His heavy breathing is causing your brows to bow in a state of pure bliss, the occasional grunt he sounds causing your jaw to go slack.

The amorous mechanic takes advantage of this and hungrily slips his tongue past your plumped lips to slither in tandem with yours for a while, evoking a muffled and greatly pleasured sob to escape into his mouth more than once, all of which he gladly engraves deep within his memory before yanking you forward by the waist once again, this time positioning your lower half close-packed and pressed to his hips. Bakugo is panting once he separates his face from yours, directing an avid ruby-red glance your way before lowering his head beside your neck.

The summer air is so hot, laced with the scent of diesel and unrivalled desire. Everything is surreal. The moody, crackly guitar in the background, the setting sun decorating the paint-splattered walls with strips of gold, the mess of blonde untamed locks you're tugging on brushing along the line of your jaw. His eagerness is evident with how rushed and sloppily his tongue glides across your skin, teeth providing harsh nibbles just under your ear and his lips hurriedly ghosting over any areas left untouched so he can suck on them hard enough to leave an instant bruise.

He's got his hands beneath your loose tank top, thick and skilled fingers splayed out and exploring every inch of your arching back. The hefty, warm touch backtracks to run over the goosebumps that had formed in its wake, sending intense shivers all throughout your limp form that have the muscles in his arms vibrate with your shaky movements. Venturing lower, Bakugo drags his palms all the way to your hips, almost drooling at how your soft flesh juts out the slightest bit above the hem of your denim shorts. He's acting hastily, like he's been set a deadline, moving to skim his thumbs over your ribs to the ticklish area below the cups of your bra.

Both of your bodies are rolling into each other now, sweat glazing the skin left uncovered by your clothes. The dim lamp and other miscellaneous items rocking back and forth on the desk struggle to stay upright or in place when every brusque, heedless motion of the mechanic's hips comes paired with the sheer power of desperation. Before you know it, he's fervently sucking on your tongue once more with a steel grip cupping the back of your bent knees, blunt nails digging in and making you uncontrollably exhale breathy whimpers that have his ears almost twitching to hear more.

Mixed saliva is coating your lips, an outcome of paying less attention to the kiss when your abdomen started to clench with anticipation. Confidence still a bit on the wobbly side, you take his bottom lip in your teeth and lightly tug on it as you pull away for breath, earning a pleased, sexy open-mouthed groan from Bakugo. Neither of you have opened your eyes in a while, much too focused on experiencing every overwhelmingly delectable feeling as they come. Jaws too tired to close your mouths, the taller man decides to give a harder thrust of his lower half and revels in the little gasps you reward him with, the growing bulge filling the space between your plush thighs gyrating into your pulsing core just right.

Long fingers abruptly spread out over your bra, opting for a quick squeeze before eagerly unhooking the clasp and greedily taking a handful of your bare tits from underneath the loosened cups. It seems he can't be bothered to seductively throw it to the ground like in the movie scenes Uraraka forced you to watch on YouTube earlier. And yet I prefer that, you smile to yourself and let out an erotic moan when your excited mechanic's huge palms rub your nipples. The sudden stimulation coaxes your inner walls to aimlessly contract, as if they're yearning to clench around the hardening, clothed length relentlessly grinding on you. His teeth return to the marked surface of your neck.

The steady speed and strength Bakugo infuses his thrusts with is impressive and you would probably be wondering how he hasn't wasted all of his energy if his hard-on wasn't consistently nudging the thick material of your shorts into your clit, the pressure so perfect it's dangerously close to maddening. The swollen bud throbs urgently at the sensation, a warning which you take notice of a mere second too late. The loud, repetitive knocking of wood swiftly being forced into solid bricks only serves to pull on the knot within your abdomen until only a single fraying thread remains intact. Not for long though, all it takes is simply a short and gruff "fuck" from the focused mans chest to snap it.

"Nnnguh!" your muscles tense instantly as you abruptly cry out, barely managing to yank him in further with the heels of your sneakers pushing at his ass. Bakugo hurriedly opens his eyes, vision blurred a bit when he moves to watch your features scrunch up under the control of absolute ecstasy. Although he's pleasantly surprised by your sudden release, his hips keep moving under the greedy pressure of your feet. Soon enough, your facial expression morphs into one of wide glossy eyes and quivering lips following the slow disappearance of your orgasm. He's smitten, without a doubt. Looking down at you like you're the one he's been looking for all his life, almost melancholic with the unmistakeable glint of rapture prominent in the pretty red rings of his gaze.

"Jesus, what brought that on?" he teases with raised, bushy brows. Ready for an embarrassed excuse, one that he'll remember forever. You’re out of breath already, one orgasm enough to render you far gone, too far gone to watch your words. You see the way he’s looking at you all expectantly, waiting for a reason to pick on you and make you burn up. If he wants an answer, he can have one.

"You, you did." your response has the mechanic blushing like a mad man, the three words prompting a sudden few drops of pre-cum to leak into the fabric of his underwear. Acting as nonchalantly as possible, Bakugo clears his throat and straightens his slumped posture with a try hard grin.

"That so." His voice is a smidge softer than before as he contemplates ripping off your clothes and going at you right then and there. The soggy feeling of his boxers rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock serves as a reminder. A reminder that he's not the type to hold back when he's inside. ...Alright, he'll wait for you, just let him wash away the oily mess painting his hands first. Hastily propping you up so that you don’t fall, he orders you a quick "sit" then rushes to the sink stationed opposite from you.

You scoff at your own impatience whilst you're unbuttoning the shorts hugging your waist, something that Bakugo catches on his way back to you. "Someone's excited," he murmurs like it's second nature and gestures to you with dripping hands. "Take em' off for me."

Choosing to let his attitude slide, you obey willingly. You hardly get to finish removing the denim before your mechanic is pouncing on you akin to a wildcat, bared fangs hovering just below your navel then hungrily clamping down on the lacy material of your panties. It's fucking delicious, the manner in which the man prises the lace waistband away to release it unexpectedly, letting it snap upon the hypersensitive skin with an addictive sting. A devilish smile plays on the man's lips, the adorable sounds you bless him with doing nothing to lessen the discomfort between his legs.

Taking your underwear in his teeth again, he repeats his last actions. However, the stretching fabric doesn’t make contact with your abdomen this time around, instead they're being dragged just below your knees. Ah, you see. Your restricting panties leave enough space for his head to fit between your thighs, but they don't allow you to spread them any further. Swollen clit pulsing, you grip the edge of the desk tighter with anticipation as Bakugo lifts your legs to situate himself underneath and rests them on his broad shoulders.

"Hngh, please please please~" you whine for him whilst twirling strands of his hair with antsy hands. A genuine laugh from the mechanic blows a few puffs of cool air directly over your pussy and the abrupt change in temperature has your body rolling closer in hopes that his mouth will bring more heat. His fingers are still wet with water as they refrain from touching the top of your thighs, the droplets cooling your skin when they land.

"Gah—!" a pathetic, surprised gasp evoked from you makes the blonde's heart melt into a puddle. Did you think he was going to warn you with a sweet kitten lick? Who do you think he is? Of course he'd start with a harsh suck on your clit. Your grip loosens in Bakugo's locks when he opts to suck and flick his tongue simultaneously, the seemingly endless flow of pleasure sending your body into an exhausted state almost straight away. "K-Katsuki, Katsuki— mnnghWAit!"

Finally, his skilled mouth detaches from your overwhelmed bud with a muted pop and you can take a deep breath. So it looks like having your legs forced to remain in a relaxed position heightens the effects. You're mind-blown, nobody's ever done something so confidently, so assertively to you before. If he had continued whatever that was then you might've…

"Too much f'you? Shorry shweetheart," the muscular fiend muffling apologies beneath you is still gliding his tongue over your saturated entrance, swallowing greedily and peering into your fucking soul with those ruby eyes. "Mnnbut you shoulda known, m'nothing like anything you've ever had before…"

Without a second's notice, Bakugo easily slides his dripping middle finger inside of you, a hot and amused laugh vibrating through you due to his face still being pressed into your throbbing cunt. "Sho eashily…" you hear him comment. You're squirming with every movement he makes, the digit creating pressure within your contracting walls coaxing animalistic moans from your chest that even you don't recognise. It's when his eager tongue begins to lap relentlessly at your clit too that your focus wavers, poor brain trying to acknowledge everything at once. Eventually, the euphoria has you doubled over with your mind seeing nothing but crimson stars studying you from between a pair of weak legs.

"Good girl, yeah yeah yeah," the blonde praises whilst savouring the view above, his jolting cock demanding for him to push three fingers inside just to hurry things up. "So f’ckin tasty and wet for me, think you can take three fingers?" he asks lowly, almost states it. You nod rapidly, barely in the know of what you're agreeing to but you get the gist. It's slightly embarrassing how his thick fingers slide in without an issue, though it doesn't look as if Bakugo has anything to say. Instead, he's elated. If only you could see how rock hard he is right now in this moment, how much of an effect you have on his body. If his dick could get any bigger it would tear a damn hole in his clothes!

"Like you were goddamn made for it." he confirms to himself and nuzzles his face further.

Twisting, turning, tapping, your horny mechanic bullies your narrowing inner walls with his heavy touch. You're holding your breath again, you can't even help it with how insanely good he's making you feel and he's not even inside you yet. The mere thought of his cock draws a long, somewhat frustrated groan from your throat, voice cracking softly when his plumped lips close over your heated pussy to suck on your overstimulated clit once more. On cue, your mouth opens in a silent scream before the words can come out prepared.

"Katsuki! Too, huh, good! I-I think—" you try to warn him as best as you can in such a state but Bakugo proceeds to dart his tongue, coated heavily with your sweet arousal, back and forth over the sore bud until you're clenching on his fingers so much that he can't move them. "Hhhhhoh my god! Again-n! M'cumming!"

And with that, the man between your thighs swiftly withdrawals to stick his tongue out and carelessly skim the convulsing bundle of nerves by shaking his head. Somehow the mechanic expected the clear liquid to come spraying from your sopping cunt, he'd just prepared himself and you saw it. Your body is tensing in ways you've never experienced in your entire life as your juices hit the concrete with an obscene splat. The fact that you're squirting everywhere is shocking enough, but the fact that the man who's face you're currently cumming on already knew exactly how to make it happen...

Your walls are vicelike around nothing as Bakugo savours the flavour present on the tip of his tongue, the fading end of your release enhancing the emptines within. Did he do that on purpose too? To keep you wanting more? Your widened eyes immediately search to be met with his own narrowed and lust-tainted leer, and then you realise something. This guy really does know what he's doing, so much so that you're almost scared by how good you feel. His head certainly would've been crushed if you hadn't tried to keep your legs open. After retreating from his spot in front of you, the mechanic mutters a "let's get these fuckin' things outta my way" breathlessly and proceeds to rid of your cute panties. Your cunt drools arousal as he dangles them in your face, giving his wrist a little twirl before pretending to throw them to the ground. Little do you know, they're actually stuffed nice and cozy in his pocket. How sneaky.

"Need you…" whispering sweetly once he's stood before you again, you reach over slightly to cup his clothed and ever-hardening length. The low-key gasp that's sucked past the burly man’s lips is then exhaled as a deep "ah", the forceful back and forth motion of your palm causing him to feel as if his spirit is about to ascend to fucking cloud nine and beyond.

"Need me, hah?" he asks rhetorically. You don't stop as he's soon hurrying to unbuckle the belt looped around his waist, in fact his visible determination has your blood sparking with newfound energy. A kind of energy that influences the muscles in your legs to feel unused, begging you to ride him until they give out. Bakugo is moments away from letting his leaky cock breathe, finally able to free himself from the painfully claustrophobic material that is his underwear after removing the first layer—

"Wait, wait, in the car... can we? In the back sea-"

The sound of a car door opening hardly registers and you're being thrown playfully into the velvety backseat of a spacious jeep before you can even finish your question. Luckily, you're given a mere few seconds to reposition yourself until the unruly blonde sits beside you, bare legs spread to make room for one hand lazily grabbing and shaking the base of his hard-on beneath damp fabric. Observing his current state, your half lidded eyes are drawn to his shiny pink tip poking out from under the soaked cotton briefs you so badly wish to yank down. It's swollen, trying to jolt whilst being pressed into his abdomen and causing even more cloudy, sticky pre to droop in a string of small beads. The desperate mechanic is also watching with bowed brows, eventually turning his head to you as if to silently plead, simultaneously lifting his ass up to fidget halfway out of his underwear.

Holy shit, he's big. You knew he was big, but… he's big. And veiny. His huge fingers wrap around his bare member for a second time, influencing him to throw his head back and toy with himself. You’re stunned for a good moment, zero thoughts as you play witness to Bakugo’s solo pleasure. You hadn't seen his features contort in such a manner before, as his face had been hidden from your eyes whenever they were open. He's got this look about him right now, like he's totally losing himself in rapture for you. Mesmerising, truly. Those rock solid abs rise and fall at quite a fast pace, you shouldn't keep him waiting but… This guy is fucking delicious, you could just lick him right now. You bet even the sweat coating his face in a pretty shine tastes like salted caramel. You want a taste. Without hesitation, you straddle the man's lap, a firm grip stationed on his shoulders with his cock bobbing involuntarily into your puffy clit. Daringly, you grab him by the chin to lick a clean, wet stripe along his pink cheek.

Such a salacious action offers no small reward, you realise this when a clenched fist in your hair pulls you back just enough to have your noses bumping into one another, a dangerous growl fleeing from behind gritted teeth, straight from the tasty mechanic's dick rather than his brain. You're rather puzzled as he slowly ghosts his mouth over your own, until he speaks.

"M'I okay to rough you up a little? Hm?" Voice gravelly and deeply smooth enough to have your head spinning, he asks impatiently and narrow-eyed. You're most likely getting yourself into some kind of trouble judging by the sheer size of him, but how can you say no to something so utterly passion stoked? Answering with a simple nod and another teasing lick over those talented, wetted lips of his, you lower your already bucking hips. It burns, it fucking burns. Yet it's intoxicating. How odd for such a searing pain to have you wishing time would stop. Whimpering and grimacing, you've just about managed to fit half of his length past your soaking entrance.

"Want me t' rough my pretty baby up in the backseat?" He's asking you rhetorically, almost tauntingly, though somehow there's more than a hint of soothing behind his words. "Take it easy, baby. That's it…" he's being so gentle with his tone, breathing shaky as he memorises every damn detail of the view in front of him.

Fuck, it's stretching you out so much! The slippery, warm tip is squished between your succulent inner walls, gradually nudging them further apart to accommodate more with the shallow rise and dip of your body. "Hngh... fuck— nngh!" your pained grunts and contracting around him both have Bakugo digging his front teeth into his tender lower lip, ruby gaze tracking a lone drop of sweat trickling down your temple. Hyper-aware of your existence, of the velvety soft ridges massaging his length, a subtle smile enhances the shamefully mushy blonde's features and a thumb swipes the rolling droplet from your face.

With every inch nearly a struggle to slide past your tender, wet entrance, the longer and less frequent your trepidatious gasps for air grow. It's the pure fervour dancing in the depths of your abdomen to blame for your lack of air intake, for this overwhelming lightheadedness that makes you feel as if you might just pass out on your mechanic's fat dick. Then it becomes apparent, you've been so focused on easing the pain that the rapturous inferno spreading within yourself has been stealing your breath away. A flustered giggle is pulled from you when Bakugo cracks a stupid joke regarding your breathing pattern.

"Damn, I knew- ah, shit..." he shudders when the sensitive head of his cock reaches deeper parts of you, canines chattering together with a moan before carrying on. "I knew I was hot, but fucking breathe, heheh..."

However, your embarrassed grin flickers in the presence of intense enjoyment as you sense your frame succumbing to the man's increasing touch located at your sides. Rough hands are guiding your hips from their ongoing gentle bob to a faster, shorter and heavier bounce. This new movement finally drives the remaining inches of the mechanic's length inside of you, the harsh impact producing a pornographic splurt to sound as your arousal caves into the building pressure and escapes from your throbbing, stretching entrance.

"GAH—!"

"Oh-hohoooooh, baby..."

He doesn't stop there, either. The back of your thighs smack upon the top of his own, the lewd noises increasing in volume every time Bakugo lifts himself up to brutally slam you back down simultaneously. Strings of your slick connect to his sticky skin, linking the both of you together like some filthy double meaning in a movie. Your insides experience a sinfully pleasing ache with the continuous and vigorous moving, the way he's ramming in and out so fucking fast and rough and perfectly— God, there's absolutely no way that you can delay another orgasm like this, no chance in hell. How are you even supposed to function right now when his cock is so amazingly able to stimulate your over-sensitive clit from the inside?

"Ka-a-at'ski-i~" your near sing-song-ish moan of his name is prolonged by the drag and drop of your weight. It's the whiniest shit he's ever heard, the wavering of your wobbly voice positively addictive to the unruly mechanic.

"I can't stop, can't stop it!" a hurried, raspy whisper into his pink-tinged ear indicates the unstoppable approach of another brain-melting orgasm on your end, and Bakugo really can't help himself from pistoning his long dick as deep as your spasming cunt will allow before the involuntary push of the juicy walls clamping over him can render you empty again. This is the hardest one yet, this time causing your form to lock up as soon as your palms caress the prickly stubble on the blonde's jaw. He's fucking delighted, peeking up at your distressed features from beneath your weak hold. It's so adorable, how you can barely handle the pleasure he's gladly supplying you with, slutty little body already so drunk on sex.

"Ugh-huh! Plea—easeeee," you cry out and impulsively bring the mechanic's head forward to bury your sobs and babbles into his natural, soft spikes. "Mmnn- please, so good..."

He notices that you're not fidgeting anymore. Instead, you've been ultimately paralysed by ecstasy. Your back arched and your trembling thighs raised, needy body in prime position to just fucking take it. You're doing exactly that, perky tits jolting into his chin whilst you let him pound your sweet pussy however he wants. Narrow eyes rolling back, a husky moan breaks the hold of his lips. There's no need to see your face to know how far gone you are, but just in case, Bakugo checks in with a dirty laugh and an utterly sexual "don't even know whatcha' beggin' for, do ya?"

Hardly capable of a simple yes or no, you can only respond with a long, broken hum into his tear-dampened hair. Fuuuuck, the car is rocking with the man's thrusts and it has the act of jutting his hips upward becoming so much easier. After a short moment of sucking on one of your pebbled nipples to have you squeezing his length, he decides a slight change needs to be made before he can cum. Without warning, Bakugo hastily manhandles you so that you're facing away from him with your lolling head leaning upon the headrest in front of you, arms around the seat and gripping on for dear life.

The musky, intimate scent of sex has an incredibly intoxicating effect, neither of you able to get enough of the lusty, hot air filling the vehicle. It influences the mechanic to ram his cock in you once again, but this time he doesn't pull back, choosing to drag you into his broad, glistening chest and guide your tired hips to gyrate in his lap. You're absolutely fucking destroyed down there, he notes pridefully when he lets his fingers slip back and forth over your numbing clit. At this point, you can only feel the pleasure his fingers are bringing you, rather than his actual digits themselves. Your mind is completely de-railed, train of thought tipped over onto its damn side. This guy is literally going to fuck your brains out!

"Keep goin', gorgeous. M' almost there," Bakugo groans whilst one of his hands trails to your throat. He can feel his dick stirring within your tight cunt, he can feel your entrance squeezing the base as your walls attempt to milk him for all he's worth. To be honest, hes lost count of your orgasms. You have, that's for sure. In fact, he doesn't think you could count to 3 right now, even if you tried your hardest. Let's make that 2, he muses to himself just as your clit starts to pulse beneath his dangerously intense touch.

"Ka... Kat'ski..." you mumble through the pressure situated under your jawbone, unable to keep your head from falling back into the crook of his neck with a silent scream. The contracting of your mellow insides circling his blunt tip has the tense mechanic blurting:

"Cum for me, baby. C-cum f'me, m'gonna cum for you too, n'kay?"

Another splash of clear liquid is sprayed from between your legs as soon as Bakugo's words register, his endless rocking and thick fingers creating gaps in stream which only makes everything that much messier. You're still in the end throes of your release when the man behind you loses control of the curses previously sat at the tip of his tongue, all of them falling from his quivering mouth within a matter of seconds.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— cuh—! Cumming!" he strains into your tangled hair, the hold around your throat gradually tightening with each forceful spurt of white from his jumping cock. Hips bucking lightly during the fading continuation of his orgasm, the brawny man removes his hand from your neck, allowing you to inhale a deep breath.

Then.

Reality kicks in.

Full throttle.

"Oh my fucking god. We need to fuckin' get out."

Slowly coming to your senses, you angle your tired head to peer at your mechanic who seems to be troubled.

"Why's that?" you question and kiss his flushed cheek, face plastered with cute curiosity. However, that cute curiosity is quickly replaced with utmost panic when Bakugo doesn't reply, instead observing the mess surrounding the two of you. "Shit! This is..."

Izuku's fucking jeep.

|| || || ||

Hours pass, all spent scrubbing the entirety of the jeep's backseat area. You'd prefer not to remember the chosen method of exiting the vehicle whilst being impaled and full of cum, although it was pretty hilarious at the time. Oh, right now? Right now you're on a stealth mission, currently waiting for Bakugo to signal your leave with obvious hand gestures whilst Izuku asks about his car. Hm... you feel like you're forgetting something— Woah, shit! He's signalling, okay. Refraining from letting a giggle escape at the blonde's tight-lipped and wide eyed expression, you sneak out from behind his childhood friend and quietly leave the building.

"So it's all good now?" Izuku pats the hood of his jeep, emerald eyes eager for his answer.

"Mm, yup. Stay there a sec while I go get your keys, loser."

You're on your way to your own car, still wondering if maybe you'd left something back there when Bakugo appears from behind the door in the corner of your vision. Spinning on your heels, you tilt your head at the cocky smirk he's blessing you with. You're confused, until you clock him dangling your lacy panties on one finger.

'Wh— HEY!' you mouth at him with a frown of disbelief. So that's what you were forgetting! You're about to storm right back over there, but the manner in which the blonde peers over his shoulder with an awkward face tells you that Izuku's waiting patiently. He doesn't mouth anything back to you, just opts to blow you a mischievous kiss, a kiss that he plants on the fabric of your panties, before cheekily shutting the door on you.

"Unbelievable." your hands flail around as you murmur with an amused smile. Guess you'll have to come back for those.

|| || || ||

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@artdumpsstuff @endlessfreaky @passionateuchiha

[shirefantasies]

hello :) im new on your page so im not extremely familiar with what you're going through but I'd still like to wish you a smooth recovery before saying anything else.

considering your condition you can absolutely take as long as you need on this request or just not do it at all but i just NEEDED to get this idea off my chest

so last night i read your LOTR characters and how many children they would have hcs and now i absolutely cannot get the idea of frodo with a little girl out of my head :(

just imagine a hobbit toddler with frodos curls like running around and being silly ☹️☹️☹️

anyways if you could elaborate on that or just some hcs of frodo as a dad in general would be so greatly appreciated :)

i wish you a smooth recovery and i hooe that you're alright

Thank you so much! I'm sorry this is an OLLLLLDDDD request and I can't remember when this was originally put in but it would be so funny if it was pre-emergency room trip 😂 but no matter what all healthy here finally 🥰 I hope it's ok that I decided to expand on this a little for everyone!

The Hobbits as Dads (Wife!Reader)

Frodo

✧ As I've mentioned, Frodo wants a smaller family, so you end up with two children, a daughter first, then a son. Both of whom just love their sweet father to pieces!

✧ Frodo and your daughter especially are just joined at the hip. She’ll sit on his desk swinging her legs while he writes or illustrates, asking him what he’s doing until he’s basically reading to her and working all at once!

✧ She chases him around the meadows, giggling as he lets himself almost be caught only to turn around and swoop her up into the air with a wide smile of his own!

✧ Frodo gets so soft whenever he holds your son, who looks just like you! Your daughter has his eyes, but your son is the spitting image of you and he just loves it. He could watch you just sitting there with your little boy in his arms watching forever, but in the end his feet carry him right to your sofa to snuggle in, your little girl on his heels!

✧ Dances with your daughter at every party, even when she is little and has to stand atop his feet as they twirl.

✧ Every morning Frodo wakes your children up with a kiss to the forehead and it almost brings tears to his eyes sometimes at the way your little boy absolutely leaps into his arms to be carried out to breakfast, the biggest smile on his little face, so reminiscent of his beloved wife's.

Sam

✧ The absolute king of making all his children feel heard despite having so many! He's invested in so many hobbies, but the children make him the dearest things, so it's ever so worth it.

✧ For example, Elanor pens the most amazing tales and Sam is always talking about her way with words. Saying how she certainly didn't get it from him! It must be from her brilliant mother. Having heard stories of Gandalf's fireworks, Hamfast works tirelessly to unlock their secret, creating his first little sparklers just in time for his father's birthday party! Sam tears up a little at this.

✧ The father who carries as many kids at a time as he physically can. One hanging around his neck, one on his back, and he strains to lift the ones dangling from his arms, too.

✧ So sweet whenever his children cry that they go to him just as often as you! Takes them in his arms and always has the kindest, most uplifting words ready.

✧ Has a tree, bush, or patch of flowers named for and aided in tending by each child as they chose their favorite.

✧ All the ladies of the Shire giggle at the sight of Sam wrangling three little ones at the market, trying so hard to keep his words gentle as he's holding another of their siblings and they want to put their hands on everything. "But that's simply not polite, now is it?"

Merry

✧ He’s always wanted at least one son and one daughter, and let me tell you: his daughter will have him wrapped around her finger.

✧ Even if she looks just like you, your daughter has Merry’s smile and as a baby, she mirrors his expressions exactly. You catch him playing peekaboo with her all the time and making faces just to see them spreading across her soft cheeks.

✧ Making toys for his kids becomes a passion of Merry’s. He spends hours carving a little wooden sword for your son that looks as close to the one gifted to him from his fellow soldiers of Rohan.

✧ The dad who takes his kids on outings so mama can have a break! After making you breakfast, Merry runs off with the little ones to go beery picking and brings them back a complete mess of dirt and juice splatters, but also grinning excitedly and holding up brimming baskets of their harvest.

✧ Congratulates your daughter the first time an angry mother complains to him about her slapping her son, who had pushed her down. “That’s right. Don’t let anyone treat you like that.” Turning to you, Merry grins, eyes all aglow with admiration. “Hear that? She’s a fighter!”

✧ Bedtime is a whole production. Bath time, a story, time laying with each child to talk about anything they want, tucking them in…and you can pry it all from Merry’s cold dead hands.

Pippin

✧ The dad who thinks all of his children are so neat, no ifs, ands, or buts, and is best friends with them all. Also the proudest father who cannot stop talking about them all into any remotely available set of ears.

✧ Your firstborn son is Pippin’s best friend, running as soon as he can walk and toddling after his father anywhere he can go, and Pippin always welcomes his company!

✧ Lifts his young ones up onto the Green Dragon tables too and lets them show off their moves or simply holds them while he jumps a little more gently! Your older son is jigging at his side, your second son leaping, and your little girl is on his hip all while Merry and his son dance next door and you watch with the baby in your arms!

✧ Encourages his children’s off-the-wall imaginations with all sorts of questions about their little worlds and creatures and of course taking on some of their roles when they need him for a game.

✧ Chaotic apple picking trips with the whole family, which comes to total you, Pippin, and all six of the kids running around like beheaded chickens between the trees and trying to show you the best apple! The oldest boys start tossing them back and forth like a ball, but they also help you bake pies by corralling the little ones and making the process fun for them. Pippin brings the baby in and holds him, teasingly pretending like he’s going to let his little hands steal your apple pieces.

✧ The father who learns every goofy magic trick to make the kids laugh. Always pulling something from behind their ears.

Bilbo

✧ Had you asked him only a handful of years prior, he would have said no children in the house, thank you, but here he is now having tea parties and making boats to float in the stream with your daughter.

✧ The most devoted dad, if a little overprotective. Always hovering behind her, hands raising over her curly little head the moment any possible danger could strike.

✧ Teaches his daughter all the proper tea etiquette after he buys her the perfect little set, fretting a bit when she spills but grinning so proudly as she pours him his little cuppa! They have tea parties all the time and Bilbo addresses all her dolls by name. She insists, after all.

✧ He also takes her on a lot of “adventures” that mostly consist of walking through the woods on the edges of the Shire and picnicking on bread and cold meat and cheese from your larder alongside the fruits they pick.

✧ Is very disconcerted when your daughter insists that not only is she going to visit the Lonely Mountain with her papa someday, she is also going to marry a dwarf. Guess she really enjoyed his stories!

✧ Your daughter knows how to do everything. Mend handkerchiefs? Definitely. Finally take that crack at the plumbing? She's right there with her father. Botany? But of course, for how else will they know what all the books they read are describing! Fighting? You both are teaching her that. Your daughter will never be afraid to take on anything with you two for her parents!

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[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, so many character cameos, denial is a river in egypt, chaos. || sfw. 2.4k words.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE Utahime's not in this welcome party," Gojo grumbles as you descend the steps off the jet. You just snort, and then Yuji skips the last three steps and starts running across the tarmac. Nitta, despite your insistence that she didn't need to, has met you at the airport along with two of the Samurai players.

“Christ,” you say as Yuji drops his bag on the ground, leaving it unattended.

“Choso!” he shouts, practically leaping onto the player on Nitta’s right. The taller man has a mess of brown hair wrangled into space buns, and he ruffles Yuji’s hair when he sets him down.

“Good to see you before we beat your ass.”

The man beside Choso opens his arms expectantly. “No love for your brother?”

“Todo.” Choso crosses his arms. “I’m actually his brother.”

“Half,” Todo retorts.

“Half is more than you.”

“We’re bonded by the college oath,” Todo says solemnly, pulling Yuji into a hug.

“Kari!” you yell, and she grins and meets you halfway. “Oh my god. It’s been too long.”

Akari Nitta, your small forward in college and also your senior year roommate. “I missed you,” she says as she pulls you into a hug. “How’re the Sorcerers? You like it there, they treat you well?”

“Good, yeah. I’m happy,” you say, honestly. “You?”

Akari’s been with the Samurai for four consecutive seasons now, and you already know she has no intention of leaving. She loves it there, loves the team, and you can’t deny how excited you are for this round of the competition.

It’s the best kind of game, you think, when the teams are evenly matched and actually respect one another. But you’re still worried—the issue now isn’t that they’ll play dirty, like the Phantoms. It’s that they’re good. Really good.

“Nitta,” Kento greets, holding out a hand. “Good to see you.” He glances over her shoulder, at where Yuji is talking animatedly with Choso and Todo.

“You too, Nanami.” Nitta follows his gaze and chuckles. “Haibara’s wrangling the rest of them at practice. I said family only, and then Todo basically forced himself into the car. At some point it’s just easier not to fight him.” Kento chuckles and nods at Nitta before falling back in with the rest of the team.

Haibara played for the Sorcerers before getting traded a couple of years back. You don’t know him personally, but you know your team is very fond of him. Ieiri catches up with you and strikes up a conversation with Nitta, and the three of you follow the team through a wide hangar and to the line of vehicles waiting outside.

“Still think you should’ve stayed with me,” Akari tells you as you board the bus that’s taking you and the team to the hotel.

You grin. “It’d be preferable. But I have to babysit.” She laughs and squeezes you on the shoulder before pulling Choso and Todo away from Yuji, herding them back into the car to get back to their own team.

You watch the old city go by through the bus window, thankful you don’t have to try to navigate driving the streets of Savannah yourself during rush hour. The scattered horse-drawn carriages and swarms of warm-weather tourists punctuate every street corner, and though it’s nowhere near the same extent as the chaos of New York, you don’t envy the ones who have to focus on the roads instead of the river, running silvery-blue in the evening light.

Gojo briefly tries to sing again in the back of the bus, and he only gets as far as “concrete jung—” before somebody silences him with a thud that you assume is a backpack, if his offended squawk is anything to go by.

"What part of this place looks like concrete to you?" Megumi asks dryly.

Even the day before the game, you see Samurai jerseys and hats dotting the sidewalks, a few flags hung in the doorways of shops.

First seed, you think, staring out the window at the slowly darkening streets. You hope the team can pull through.

—

Iori Utahime is looking at Gojo like she’s going to castrate him on the spot.

“Utahiiiime!” he sings. “It’s been so long!”

“Not long enough,” she says, crossing her arms and turning up her chin. Long, purple-streaked hair falls past her shoulders, the back tied up in a bow you’ve never seen her without. “Any chance you’re less of a menace than you used to be?”

“No,” says a voice from behind you, and you’ve never seen a person’s entire countenance shift so quickly as Utahime catches sight of Ieiri and immediately breaks into a grin. She sprints toward her, launching into her arms.

“Shoko!” she shrieks, and Ieiri laughs and wraps her arms around her. “I missed you!”

“Utahime,” she says warmly. “How’ve you been?”

They launch into conversation—or, Utahime launches into conversation while Ieiri smiles pleasantly and nods along—and Gojo is forced to abandon his quest to annoy Utahime in favor of actually doing his job and playing basketball.

“She just doesn’t get me like you do,” he whispers on his way past.

“I don’t get you,” you retort, but he’s already gone.

The atmosphere in the Samurai stadium is entirely different than the rest of the games you’ve been to—this is a rivalry, sure, but a friendly one. Players greet each other across the court, the boys ecstatic to be reunited with Haibara, and the fans seem to be aware of the connections across the two teams. There’s significantly less hostility than you’ve gotten used to as the Sorcerers are introduced.

You catch a glimpse of blue hair in the front row of the home side and realize Kasumi Miwa is here. She’s already attracting quite a bit of attention, a massively successful WNBA player herself. You played with her in college, too, but you know she’s here for their point guard, Kokichi Muta.

Gojo stands at center court, ready to take the tip-off against Noritoshi, the other Kamo on the Samurai. You don’t remember quite how he’s related to Choso, but it’s amusing just how intertwined all the players on the court are right now.

For a second you think Kamo’s going to win the tip-off, but Gojo’s arm shoots up out of nowhere and then he’s running with the ball. He darts around Kamo and passes to Yuji, and the Sorcerers are 2-0 within the first thirty seconds of the game.

And then Haibara gets one in, and they’re tied. And then Gojo nails a three-pointer. And then Choso does, too.

Your neck is starting to hurt from how much you’re snapping it back and forth, both ends of the court in constant play as the advantage shifts every other minute. Megumi isn’t starting today, and you can feel his anxiety even from your place near the hall doors.

This game is insane.

Toward the end of the first quarter, Megumi subs in for Toge, and the second he hits the court he plays as if he never left. Kento lobs the ball his way and Megumi scores another three, and then Ino slips by Todo and leaps, fingers almost touching the hoop as the ball slams in.

It’s one of the tightest games you’ve seen in a long time. They’re always within five points of one another, back and forth, back and forth. The Sorcerers are leading at halftime by two, but it’s not a lead anyone is confident in.

While the team is back in the locker room, you slip over to the home side to talk to Kasumi. She grins and tugs you into a hug. “Alley-oop!”

You laugh, the stupid nickname so familiar falling from her lips. “Kasumi!” You pull back and smile. “How’re the Shadows? Do you love it? You fucking killed it this last season.”

She flushes a little, never having been big on accepting compliments. “Ah, I’ve got a great team.”

You arch a brow. “And they’re lucky to have you.” Taking mercy on her, you switch the subject. “So things with Kokichi are going well.”

She gets that dreamy look in her eyes, and you decide Kasumi and Muta are maybe the only couple you’ll accept being this fucking sappy all the time. They’ve been together since your senior year of college, and you’re pretty sure the basketball gods made them for each other.

“I think he’s gonna propose soon,” Kasumi whispers, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a squeal.

“Kasumi,” you gasp.

She giggles. “Don’t say anything. He just can’t keep secrets from me. He’s not slick.”

You mime zipping your mouth and tossing the key, and she pretends to unzip it as she asks, “What about you? How are things in the Southeast?”

“Hot,” you say. “Humid. Busy. But good.”

“And Gojo?”

You blink. “Gojo?”

“Uh, y’know, star player, six three, easy on the eyes?” She raises her eyebrows like she knows something, and the implications hit you all at once.

“Oh my god, Kasumi.”

She blinks innocently. “Reunited after three long, long years. No romanticism in that?”

“We work together,” you hiss, which feels like a gross understatement. “And he’s…”

She raises a brow, waiting. You can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks. It’s such a ridiculous notion that you don’t even have a proper response.

“I honestly think he just became tolerable,” you say. “God, I wouldn’t date—”

“Oh, you say that now,” she says, a smug curve to her lips.

“What does that—”

“Oh, look at the time.” You follow Kasumi’s gaze to where the players have started filing back into the gym. “Back to your coworker, you.”

“Kasumi Miwa—”

“I love you too!” she beams. “Good to see you. Really.”

Rolling your eyes, you wave your left hand at her, pointing discreetly at your ring finger as you retreat across the gym. You watch as the bright red returns to her cheeks and return her smug grin from earlier.

God. Easy on the eyes.

It’s not like Gojo’s not attractive. Girls fawn over him and you can understand why, objectively. Tall, strong, all lean muscle, those stupidly bright blue eyes and whiter-than-white hair. But he’s one of those guys who’s just hot until he opens his mouth.

Even if he hasn’t been quite as annoying lately, the natural progression of a conversation about Kasumi’s soon-to-be-fiancé should not be to start talking about Satoru Gojo.

On the sidelines, he winks at you, and your roll your eyes but have to turn away before he sees the heat rising to your cheeks. Not helping right after Kasumi decided to put those thoughts in your head.

Fucking hell. What’s wrong with you?

You shake off the encounter as the game starts back up. You might’ve had the lead before the half, but the Samurai come back strong. Very strong. Todo is impossible to get around, he’s everywhere at once, and Muta is making shots from insane distances while Choso just keeps dunking. The disadvantage to having played with Haibara is that he knows the way the team plays, and he seems to have relayed whatever tips he can to his teammates.

But it goes both ways. Kento knows every shot Haibara will take before it happens, and Yuji and Todo are so tuned into each other’s movements that they can’t get the jump on the other.

It’s insane and it’s stressful but it’s damn good basketball. With damn good people, too. Yuta gets knocked down and Todo helps him back up. Choso keeps making faces at Yuji across the court. When Choso dunks right over Ino, you even hear Gojo let out a low whistle of appreciation for the shot.

When the buzzer signals the game’s end, the Sorcerers have lost by three. Muta scored the winning shot, and after the game is called he runs right off the court to sweep Kasumi up in a hug. Across the court, you see Gojo terrorizing Utahime again, Kento bumping fists with Haibara, Choso and Todo crowding Yuji as Megumi watches in amusement.

Nobara sighs as she looks up at the scoreboard. 81-78.

God, it was close. Really, really close.

It’s one game, you tell yourself. They can swing it. They’ve got time.

The mood after the game is a weird mixture of excited and tense—the guys knew they were walking into a match with a better ranked team, but now they’re feeling it. It’s the hardest they’ve had to play in a while, and Yaga and Kusakabe are talking strategy before they even hit the locker room.

You get back to your hotel room late, another night of emails and scheduling and a too-bright screen, and when you get back, Ieiri is smirking at you.

“What?”

She nods to your bed. “Had a visitor a while ago.”

You follow her gaze to a folded pile of blue and green fabric on the end of your bed, a note on top of it. “Oh my god.”

You know what that is. You’d know it from a mile away, because you wrote the renewal contract for it, because it’s been scattered throughout the stands at home games, because you’ve approved ads and worked on shoot screenings with Nobara.

The shirt is soft in your hands, and you pick up the note, scrawled on a piece of paper torn from the hotel notepad.

figured our star manager deserved free star merch, right? you’re welcome!!!!!!

His handwriting is messy and slanted, the line of exclamation points nearing horizontal toward the right edge of the page. It’s so incredibly boyish you have to stifle a laugh, and in place of a signature Gojo has doodled his own face in the corner: a little circle with spiked up hair and a black headband, tugged over his eyes like a blindfold. Probably because he didn’t want to deal with drawing eyes, you think.

The shirt’s in your size, a long-sleeve that starts out blue and washes into a light green in a vertical gradient. LIMITLESS is printed across it in a thin sans serif, a Nike swoosh twisted into an infinity sign above the T.

“Idiot,” you mutter. Star merch. Arrogant idiot who sneaks into hotel rooms to leave his own merch and assumes you want it. Actually, he probably knows you don’t. That’s why he didn’t give it to you in person. That makes it worse. He’s just taunting you in his typical Gojo way.

You toss the shirt into your bag and slide the note into your laptop case, not seeing a recycling bin. Ieiri chuckles, and you look up at sharply. “What?”

She holds her hands up, palms out in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

When you try to fall asleep, staring at the shadowed popcorn ceiling, you’re reeling. Kasumi’s words pinball around your skull like it’s an echo chamber. The Limitless shirt sits heavy in your bag against the wall. Gojo winks in your mind’s eye. You feel his hand curled over yours, pen in your fist.

You hope you don’t dream.

directory. || prev. || next.

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@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro

[pigeonpeach]

The perfect date!

Prompt: Genshin men and women’s ultimate idea of a date by their standards!

Fem reader

Characters: Diluc, Shenhe, Jean, Cloud retainer, Arlecchino, Kujo Sara, Furina

Jean

Jean ,despite her upbringing and high class education, isn’t very picky. What she values most is the effort and thought put in. To earn her heart is relatively easy. Just be a cute little thing and offer her gifts and flowers to cheer her up. Compliment her and overall just look at her with eye contact and a smile as she chats your ear off about the latest romance novel and how disappointing it was.

For you? Your best shot is to go out of your way to pick her favorite flowers, and dress yourself up enough to show you care then she wouldn’t mind where it was even if it was a picnic. In that scenario you would also have to show thought and care. You can’t just smack a blanket everywhere. You have to pick somewhere the knights are available or with a nice scenery. The tree at windrise is perfect as its already her safe spot. A picnic is actually perfect, Jean is a romantic but there’s nothing more romantic than seeing how you fret about every little detail, like a bird preparing the perfect nest for its mate, she is more flattered by effort than compliments. Even if the food you prepared isn’t the best she can see how you tried. Afterall with enough practice you could prepare it properly in the future. When she saw your effort she was starting to swoon. Keep up the effort and you’ll have her last name in no time.

As for how she’d set up the date? A casual lunch at Good Hunter and a stroll through city to Springvale because the scenery is beautiful and the wind is nice but not too cold. She’ll pay for the meal and you will make up for it by being her entertainment. But she’s also picked that route because the wind can pick uo and get a bit chilly with the lake right next to path, giving her the perfect opportunity to offer you her cloak, just like a true Gentlelady!

Diluc

Oh he’s difficult! Not a romantic, not a small talker, not too expressive, not too friendly either. You basically court him the way you would earn the trust of a feral cat who’s never been pet before. Patience and lots of perseverance. The best way to earn his heart however is to be interesting. Go to the bar when nights are slow and tell him interesting stories. Some new fact you learned? Questions that make you stand out from any other bachelorette looking to score it with him. Like “whats your second favorite color? Whats your first memory? Does his hawk have a favorite color?” I should mention to not get too personal too quick. But overtime he maybe endeared by your odd conversations, you stand out in a pleasant way that has him contemplating those questions.

Now that you’ve finally got his trust you can ask him out! Very likely he will take the reins. Likely a typical restaurant date. He picks you up, pays, coat if your cold, walks you home. He isn’t the most creative.

As for you? Well you still won’t be able to spoil him because he will pay you back no matter what. He doesn’t have expensive tastes. You prepare a nice picnic meal? You want to go on a walk through town and lunch? Unfortunately he doesn’t really like the idea because he knows it will spark a huge rumor and end up with you probably glared at by many a lady looking for his hand. The picnic idea is however novel to him. Just be sure to pick a area clear of monsters. Not that he wouldn’t immediately leap into battle to defend you but that he might burn the grass to much. Then you would have to move. But he secretly adores how persistent you’ve been, trying to provide for him, trying to handle everything. He secretly likes that. Unfortunately he has a serious poker face so you don’t notice that until later.

Shenhe

Out of all of them i’d say she’d be the hardest to romance because she’d struggle to understand when she is inlove. She likes you yes. But is it different than how she likes being around Ganyu or sitting in the grass? Overtime it does become different but it isn’t until Cloud Retainer points out that she is obviously being courted that she recognizes your efforts. So she return them.

Easiest by far because she has no concept of romance or what is romantic like everyone else but rather just that: she likes you. She likes spending time with you. She doesn’t care if you don’t get her enough flowers or you don’t pick a good enough restaurant. What she likes is you and talking to you. You could pick a dingy street vendor for a date and she’d still love it. Really its cloud retainer who would disprove. To earn her approval you must work to prove you’re worthy and trustworthy too. She won’t give her blessing out freely. And what better way for Shenhe to learn about romance than by example? But truly, Shenhe would prefer a date on Jueyun karst. With fresh flowers and a gentle breeze in the warm sunlight. Just talking to you, alone. She doesn’t like restaurants unless its a slow or quiet day but she will put up with it for your sake.

Arlecchino

Obviously she lives for the luxury. She knows time away from the children is scarce nowadays so she books a private booth secluded from the other guests, a luxury restaurant with the finest of tastes. She will ensure you don’t go away hungry or feel uncomfortable. The difficulty is the timing. The reason its best to leave her to schedule dates is because she will already have made time for such occasions. One date st least per month! Unless of course there’s complications or scheduling conflicts. Rest assured she will make it up to.

If you’re planning a date for her it would be best to follow her line and not surprise her with it because again, her schedule. The most she’ll let you do is probably make the reservation, she’ll pay for it simply because she likes to provide for you. Better to just let her because she isn’t going to let the mother of her children pay for dinner.

Cloud Retainer

Oh you want to romance a full blown adeptus? Good luck making it up that mountain alot. Your offerings do not go unnoticed by her, as she enjoys your gifts more than most mortals. She even clears out monster camps herself in preparation for your visits. As cloud retainer how ever she isn’t too emotionally available.

But as Xinyun she is far more open minded to the idea. Recognizing you as her favorite human she will humor your offer of lunch. She does prefer more traditional methods but not to a great extent. For instance, a decent restaurant with high quality food. Especially if it’s a date. You dont have to pick the most luxurious of restaurants but if you do it is a good impression to her. But putting effort into your appearance is also very important too. She doesn’t expect you to pay for her tab but she would appreciate. She will find some way to repay you.. perhaps a invention to help you in some aspect of your life? Or perhaps a kiss will do.

Furina

Little bit of a tsundere. It wasn’t actually that hard to win her heart, but she didn’t make it obvious until you asked her out. Just stick with the fancy stuff, flowers and sweets as offerings. She is very traditional in that regard. But oh Miss Furina is so lonely, the second she saw your gentle and loving smile she practically fell face first and head over heels for you.

Of course high end restaurants are her favorite. Especially for desserts. In fact you could just skip dinner and go to a bakery instead, that’s probably cheaper. If you offer to pay though do be prepared for it. She won’t spend too much since it is your money but the things she buys aren’t too cheap either. But overall the perfect date for her is mostly just.. having someone by her side. It may end up be her window shopping or shopping with you dragged along but she has a great time like. She has a great time with you by her side :> after that point the dates can be anything as long as you’re not taking her hiking through the mountains or something, she might like to go outside the city for a picnic though. Maybe even see the cute otters.

Kujo Sara

She was also not that hard to win over, but it was much harder to tell when she did. But her coworkers knew when they saw how she seemed to miss you when you left, or how you made her smile. But before you know it, she’s asking you out!

Kujo Sara will pick the best restaurant for your tastes, preferably a bit high end, and she will encourage you to eat as much as you like. Don’t eat like a pig though that is a bit off putting to her. She isn’t too great at conversing though, especiallt in non professional environments. Considering how nervous she actually is to be on a date with you too, its a bit hard to be confident in such a unfamiliar situation. Just be patient and sweet. Overtime she’ll get better and more open with you.

[luveline]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve doesn't really like the holidays, but he likes you. So, he makes some concessions. Rainbow lit, tinsel-covered, pine tree-smelling concessions.

6k words, christmas centric, fem!reader who celebrates christmas, mutual pining, gingerbread houses, mistletoe, ugly sweaters, friends to lovers, idiots in love, allusions to s4.

❆

Steve hates Christmas. He doesn't want to get into it and he won't, not when you love it the way that you do — quietly, and yet every movement hints at your excitement. 

Your hands are basically shaking when he lugs the new box onto the desk. It's adorable. 

"Thank you for doing this," you say, meeting his eyes and sending him one of your too-nice smiles. Kind that makes him nervous and sick and excited all at once. 

"I don't know why you're so eager. They're the same cheese-fests this year as last year," he says.

You lean over the counter enough for him to smell your perfume. "That's not true. You said you have The Christmas Star, right?" 

"Ten whole copies." 

He pulls open the cardboard box and digs for your desired tape. The case is cardstock and crisp with newness, and it squeaks as he pulls it up and displays it against his chest. 

You beam. "Yes. How much? Expensive 'cos it's new?" 

"Not with the employee discount," he says, placing the tape down neatly. 

Your smile turns shy. Steve has always thought you were pretty, in the same way he thinks that grass is green and stars shine at night, but lately you've turned to a sweetness that has his teeth aching if he thinks about it, all manner of terrible emotions flooding his idiot brain. Jealousy, protectiveness, and — he shudders — affection. Even now he's tempted to round the desk and make up an excuse to touch your arms, or your hands. Your face. 

"Thanks, Steve," you say softly. 

"Of course. There has to be one pro to working in this dump, right?" 

"Is it a dump? It looks super clean." 

He hesitates. "We had to fix it up. Holiday decorations are coming in tomorrow." 

"Make that today!" 

You both turn to see Robin struggling out of the back room, two boxes held in her arms and hiding her face. She stumbles to the desk and Steve leaps to help her, unveiling her grinning face. There's a meanness to her eyes that Steve abores. 

"Well, yesterday. Keith says they got here last night, which means today is officially the first day of Family Video Christmas." 

"It's November," Steve says, narrowing his eyes. 

"Thirty first!"

Robin pries open one of the huge boxes and thrusts both hands in unafraid, pulling out streams of green and silver tinsel like festive innards. Her eyebrows jump up. "Nice," she says appreciatively. 

"I almost wish I worked here." 

"You can stay and help," Steve says. 

Your laughter makes his chest hurt. "I can't. I have decorating to do all by myself next door." You straighten your Palace Arcade polo and your black, plain skirt. "Do I look okay?" 

Steve has a terrible lapse in judgement wherein he thinks about telling you exactly how you look, lips pressed together ready to make a 'b' sound, but he stops himself in the nick of time. Friends don't really do that. 

"You look fucking adorable," Robin says, having wrapped the tinsel around her neck in a makeshift scarf. She sparkles as she turns to Steve. "Doesn't she?" 

"Adorable," he says tightly. 

You scratch under your ear. "Thank you.” 

You promise to come back at the end of the day for The Christmas Star and escape before Robin can poke fun at your shyness. 

The door closes behind you and Steve buries his face in his hands. His cheeks are hot. 

"That was pretty bad. Better, though," Robin says, an air of genuineness about her that he knows she doesn't truly possess. 

Steve scrubs a hand through his hair, temper welled to the surface quick and uncomfortable as usual. He pushes it down and turns away from Robin and the glaringly bright Christmas decorations rather than say something snappy that she doesn't strictly deserve. 

"Maybe by Christmas you'll be able to look her in the eye." 

"Maybe by Christmas I'll have friends I actually like." 

"Points for quickness," she cheers. Steve can feel her moving to stand beside him. "But ultimately weak." 

"It could happen." 

"Could it?"

He rolls his eyes and starts to log The Christmas Star under his name for you. Employees get pretty good privileges, like reduced rates and nulled late fees. You could keep it 'til the 25th, if that's what you want. 

Robin drapes tinsel over his shoulders. "I really, genuinely think that, despite your bad posture, your hair, your clothes," — Steve scoffs — "and your dismal taste in movies, she likes you." 

He's so distracted by her (mostly) joking insults that he doesn't quite hear the end. Then, when it sinks in, his incredulity lends itself to a new target. 

"What?" 

"Steve," Robin says flatly. 

"She likes me?" 

"I think so. She's not coming in here every day for me." 

"How should I know? I'm not exactly a good judge of it." 

Robin taps her foot against his. They're overly familiar if not overly affectionate friends, and he relents in his bad mood, pulling the tinsel from his shoulders with a dejected sigh. 

"I doubt it. She was excited about the new movies." Not me. He doesn’t think you'll be back tomorrow.  

"Why aren't you excited?" Robin asks.

"You know I don't like the holidays." His agitation is clear in his annoyed hand gestures, fingers furling and unfurling. "Weeks of torture. Cranky moms walking around like somebody shoved a candy cane up their-" 

"Steve, that's like, ten percent of the holiday season! There's a bazillion other things to like about Christmas." 

He snorts. "Like what?" 

—

Steve doesn't know how she managed it, but Robin has someone orchestrated the older gaggle of their friends to sit down anywhere but next to him. When you arrive, late and full of abashed apologies, the only seat empty is the chair to his right. 

You collapse beside him and the December chill outside follows you. Cold emanates off of your clothes. You peel out of your black denim jacket and press the back of your hand to his. 

"Cold, huh?" you ask. 

He swallows around nothing. "Cold." 

Your touch lingers. If he were your boyfriend, he'd take your cold hands in both of his and blow on them generously. He'd rub your stiff knuckles until they were loose and your fingers limp. 

Robin opens her arms and a half a dozen boxes clatter into the middle of the table, upside down and on their sides. Steve turns his head to read the font, and then promptly sits up. 

"No," he says. 

"Steve," Robin pleads, already turned away to retrieve a wicker basket full of candy. "Don't be a loser." 

"Too late," Eddie says, painted nails digging into the cardboard flap of his box. 

"You don't want to make one?" you ask Steve. 

"Gingerbread houses are a little elementary school, aren't they?" Steve turns to Jonathan imploringly. "You agree, right?" 

"No," Jonathan says with a laugh. "Me and Will still make them every year. El's getting good at them, too." 

"Will made one with a door that opens last year," Nancy says, pride for her boyfriend's brother clear in her pert smirk. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "That's good for him, and I mean it, but why are we doing this? Tell me there's beer, at least." 

"Yes!" Eddie cheers, slapping his thigh. "Harrington, you're finally saying something I can get behind. I have a little something extra in the van, just say the word." 

"There's beer," Nancy says emphatically. 

Eddie pretends to die in his chair. You giggle like crazy at his dramatics and set about opening your box, fanning gingerbread walls and roof panelling out over the table. 

Steve feels old resentment for Eddie bubble up like it never left. He wants to be the one who makes you laugh like that, all sweet and secret like you're trying not to make a fuss but you just can't help it. The resentment fades when you reach across from him and open a second box, laying supplies out in front of him one by one. 

"I think we should be a team," you tell him. 

"That's not fair," Eddie says.

"Can it, Munson-"

"We can all be teams," Robin says, returning with a blessedly cold six pack, three piping bags, and a handful of metal tips. "You two, me and Eddie, Nancy and Jonathan." 

Steve doesn't miss her suggestive eyebrow wiggle, and neither does anybody else. You turn to Steve in confusion. He shakes his head vigorously in a rapid and untrue show of I don't know, arm weaving under yours to bring your attention to the bigger piece of gingerbread. "This is the floor, right?" 

Steve’s surprised by how good of a team you turn out to be. Your gingerbread house takes shape slowly. Steve holds the pieces in place and you apply the icing seams like caulking, smoothing the lines out with your index finger and licking it clean. You’re a picture of happiness, happy jabbering interspersed between singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio and warding off insincere insults sent your way. 

"My grandma can decorate better than that, and she's pushing ninety. She has glaucoma."

“Cut the shit talking, Eddie,” you warn, flicking him with a jellybean. It hits his neck, and his retribution comes in five more aimed at your gingerbread house. 

The sides wobble unsurely.

Steve frosts the roof, assuming it’ll be easy. It isn’t easy at all, and soon any cuteness you’ve made is ruined by his ugly hatching. He winces, then frowns, then glares, eyebrows furrowed in agitation. 

Jonathan and Nancy are the ones to beat. Both nerds, both neat. Jonathan’s an artist and it’s obvious he does this every year, their house made up of pretty white swirls and gem decorated doors and windows. They're bantering quietly, insincere declarations that make Steve jealous — not of Jonathan, exactly, but of their relationship as a whole. They fit together in a way Steve and Nance never had. They’re effortless. 

Robin and Eddie make a good go of it, surprisingly. Steve had expected Eddie to throw the competition before he could lose, and hates to be proven wrong. Dorks combined with too much imagination, their gingerbread house has become a sort of macabre scene with a dead gingerbread man outlined in the snow surrounding, and icing stalagmites rise under the roof’s overhang.

You pull your chair in as close to Steve’s as you can, your knee pressed into his thigh and your elbow glancing off of his bicep every time you place a jellybean.

“There,” you say, pulling back. “That looks awesome, doesn’t it?”

It’s a hot mess. Unbalanced, too much icing on one side of the roof and not enough on the other, you lean back into Steve’s chest, your skin to his skin and your hair smelling of jasmine, appraising the work you’ve made just as it begins to fall apart. The weight of the roof becomes too much and the walls split either side of one another, in both slow motion and fast. Steve sees it happen incrementally, and it’s too quick to stop. 

Your gingerbread house collapses. 

“Fuck,” Steve says. “Fucking fuck.”

You get second place. 

“It looked good when it was actually standing,” Nancy reasons, her lies obvious in her raised pitch, her queasy shifting. 

“It did,” you agree. 

Steve’s self-loathing abates ever so slightly. 

“Pity win,” Eddie says with a cough. 

You laugh like crazy, and Steve decides gingerbread houses are for kids. 

—

After the gingerbread house disappointment, Steve thinks things cannot get worse. He is swiftly proven wrong. 

It's his turn to host a party, Robin's idea, and Christmas crawls ever closer. When he closes his eyes at night he can see the faces of every annoyed mom asking for The Christmas Star. Carols play in his ears unbidden. He finds himself humming songs he hates out of nowhere and clamping his mouth shut hard enough to chip a tooth every time. 

You love decorations, and so he and Robin have spent the last hour making his big empty house something fit for a rom-com, wreaths and tinsels and rainbow flashing lights. You love Christmas music, and so the stereos dialled to a cruel thirty in preparation for your arrival. You love cookies, and so, to Steve's amateurish expense, plates of sugar cookies line the kitchen countertops, along with all the finger foods one could ever desire. 

Though in Steve's case, that's none. He hates Christmas parties, reminded of his parents' misaligned efforts to earn favour with equally pompous parents. He and Tommy would hide out in backyards with stolen booze, and when that got too cold they'd shuffle inside, warm in their chests and numb in their fingers. 

He frowns at the memory and wizzes it all away. Tommy was an asshole. Steve was an asshole, he still is. This party isn't for his parents. 

It's for you. 

Not that anyone can ever, ever know. 

"What do you think?" Robin asks, pulling at the edges of the sweater she's changed into. 

It's a movie reference he should understand, but doesn't. "I love it." 

She smiles. Rare for them to operate above dry sarcasm and quick wit. Christmas makes Robin squishy, like she's forgotten how shitty the world is, and Steve wants her to have a good time tonight. This includes being nice (which he should be more often, anyway). 

"Go change. She'll be here soon."

"Who, Nance?" 

Robin tips her head back. "Oh, yeah, Nancy. Definitely who I meant." 

He flips her the finger, putting an end to their Christmas niceties. She's still laughing as he climbs the stairs and barrels into his room. He doesn't bother closing the door even as he hears the doorbell ring. The pizza should be getting here around now. 

Steve doesn't rush. He’d left cash on the countertop. Robin can deal with it. 

He ducks forward and pulls his polo up the length of his back, hair puffed out like a cloud. He'd set aside his ridiculous reindeer sweater on the top shelf of his closet. Or, at least, he'd thought he had. He searches once, twice, and then gives in to his short temper and drops his face into his hands. 

Stupid Christmas. Stupid sweater. Stupid party.  

He hears your inhale like a whisper. Breath caught in your throat. 

"Steve," you say, sounding surprised. 

It's his room. He's not sure what's so surprising. 

You're standing in the doorway looking angelic, all things considered. Your features softened by powder, wearing a white Christmas sweater with dainty beaded snowflakes and a plaid skirt. You look pretty, and Steve's not one for dramatics but he wishes he was dead. 

"You look nice," he says pathetically. 

"You, too," you say. You clear your throat. "I mean. Uh-" 

"You okay?" he asks, pushing hair out of his eyes. 

Your smile falters. You look at his naked chest. Steve worries he's making you uncomfortable and turns as nonchalantly as he can to his closet again, says, "I can't find my sweater. It's…" He lifts a bundle of jeans up. "Horrifying." 

"I can help." 

You step into the room. Each footstep silent, you've already discarded your shoes. He looks down to your stockings and then up again, ignoring the blush that wants to emerge at the sight of your thighs. 

"It's brown, and it has a weird red thing hanging off of it. Rudolph's nose." 

You step close enough that he can feel the heat of your arm and run a hand down the shelves. It takes a couple of seconds at most and you've found it, pulling it from the pile carefully. He loves the way you move, each inch deliberate. 

You press the sweater into his chest. His hands come up, his fingers cover your own. 

When he's with you, Steve feels as though everything — every movement, every moment — is broken down into its finest details. He thinks he could draw your fingerprint if asked, each miniscule line embossed into his skin as you touch him. 

"Steve?" 

But that's ridiculous. 

"Thanks. I think I got tinsel in my eyes or some shit," he mutters, averting his gaze.

"You're welcome. Robin sent me to see what was taking you so long. I'll tell her it was a Rudolph related crisis." 

You stroke his arm. 

He loses his shit internally, hand reaching for your retreating figure as you turn your back. He doesn’t know why. Maybe he would’ve kissed you.

"Steve?" you ask, now standing in the doorway. 

He recalibrates, muddled. "Yeah?" 

"Get dressed,” you encourage. You give him a short smile, blinding, and laugh quietly as you leave. 

He's hopped up on hope as he gets dressed, a smile plastered over what had felt to him like a seasonal scowl. He's no idiot; arm-touching, your tinkling laughter. Maybe his crush isn't as hopeless as he'd thought. 

He smooths down his hair for much longer than necessary, listening as the door opens and closes and opens again, friends trickling in with happy hellos and complaints about the weather. It's cold but too wet for snow, and evidence of it trails in from the front door through the hallway where shoes lie discarded in clumsy pairs.

He picks over them and finds his friends, ones he made willing and otherwise, draped over his living room like old throws. Max and Lucas have stolen the couch where they sit laughing, clearly gossiping about something. The rest of the lunch club stick close by, bowls of snacks already claimed and in cross-legged laps. 

"Steve," Jonathan says, "what the fuck is that?" 

"Fucker," Steve says. He's the butt of too many jokes, then, and he glares at Robin even as she plates him some still-warm pizza. 

"Sorry," she mouths. 

You curl up on the couch next to Max. He appreciates the unlikely friendship you've formed, sort of a sistership. You only know her through Steve but he genuinely thinks you'd pick her over him, and that makes him like you more. 

That's all he does, lately. Finds new ways to fall in love with you. 

"That is the ugliest sweater I've ever seen," Max says.

Fucking Christmas. 

—

Steve's been in a bad mood since he came downstairs, and you're not okay with it. Despite your shameless meltdown in his bedroom at seeing him shirtless, you don't quit. You spend some time with Max on the couch, and when she seems a little less agitated you track him down. 

He's definitely hiding. 

"I think Max's glasses are hurting her nose," you say. 

Steve looks over his shoulder at you, and he smiles, the slopes of his face kissed by the open refrigerator light. "They'd hurt anyone. The lenses are like, five inches thick." 

“Poor girl,” you mumble, more to yourself than him. 

He turns back to the fridge and pulls out a two litre of coke. “You want a drink?” 

You shake your head. His hair looks incredibly sweet from this angle, and you don’t mean that in a condescending way. It curls toward the bottom of his neck, that tiny bit too long compared to his usual cut. His neck moves as his head swivels, and there’s ligaments, there’s muscle, the bump of his Adam’s apple, all of it commanding attention. You think about stepping forward to touch him, his neck, to curl your finger around the side of his throat and hold him in place. If there’s one thing about Steve lately, it’s that he’s always fucking moving. He can’t sit still. He looks between you and the empty glass in question, twice, a third time. 

“I don’t read minds,” he says eventually, near pleading. 

You decide some flirtation is in order. 

“I’m glad you can’t,” you say lightly, crossing what’s left of the kitchen tile between you to stop at his side. You pretend that you’d wanted a drink, taking a glass down from one of his cabinets so he can fill it for you. Something he could’ve done himself. You hope that’ll be clear enough for him — the blatant want to be close. 

It isn’t, unsurprisingly. 

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, I think…” You lower your voice,a private confession. “That sometimes what I’m thinking, it might be- Uh, telling.”

Poor Steve. That hadn’t come out anywhere as smooth as you’d anticipated. It’s harder to tell him now you’re confronted with him, his every detail. And Steve, sweetheart, angel Steve, he misses the mark. Forget different pages, Steve’s reading a separate chapter, and your flirtation reads as a deeply unromantic confession. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asks. 

“No,” you say. “Of course not.”

His eyebrows jump and his forehead crinkles. “You sure?” His protective tone melts into something softer. “Let’s hear it, whatever it is.”

Steve isn’t patient. You know that about him. His temper is short and fierce. You like how hot he runs, love his agitated pouting and his dark-eyed scowls — he’s handsome in every expression. 

He isn’t patient, but he tries. He’s kind, and if you wanted to sit and talk about the hypothetical that isn’t bothering you, he’d listen. 

“I actually wanted to ask if everything was alright with you,” you say gently. 

His hand wobbles, fastening the coke cap. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’ve noticed you don’t really like Christmas.”

He smiles, and soon the smile catches, a shy lip bite that has you fighting with your hands to keep them where they hang at your sides. 

“You got me.”

Steve pushes the twin glasses of coke back and then turns around, resting the small of his back against the countertop. You step in front of him without thinking, head ducked to catch and keep his eyes. They’re such a lovely brown, light and earthy, potted with white dots from the fluorescent kitchen light like falling snow as his eyes slip down. You swear, Steve is looking at your lips. 

“Is there something I can do?” 

It’s a terrible time to ask because you genuinely mean it, you’re not just trying to cop a feel. He doesn’t smirk or laugh as you’d thought he would, he only smiles. 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” He tips his head back, criminal, neck arched and ever-enticing. “Fucking sick of this itchy straight jacket,” he groans, pulling at the collar of his sweater like he’s hot. 

He is hot. You’d both benefit from a sudden winter breeze. 

His head drops, eyes lit with confusion. “What? Something on my face?”

“Something,” you agree. 

You look behind you to check what you’d thought you’d seen was truly there. When it is, you turn back to Steve with a feigned concern. “Here, come step into better light.”

You hurry into the doorway, frowning. 

Steve frowns in turn and follows you. You give the game away without meaning to, looking up at the sprig of mistletoe pinned sloppily above you. 

He sees it. He lights up. The happiest he’s looked all month, Steve scrubs a hand over his face and into his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he comes to meet you. Your stomach flips with excitement, because oh shit, he looks like he wants to kiss me. 

“Butler, I’m in need of one of your finest cokes, please.”

Oh, no.

Eddie bounces into view with a certified shit-eating grin, hair decorated with tiny metallic baubles. His sweater is surprisingly normal, a black and white knitted affair with reindeer and snowflakes. 

He comes to a stop beside you. “What’s happening?”

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look-

“Shit, hey! Mistletoe.”

Eddie opens his arms. You sigh, to his delight, and lean in so he can give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You try to look at Steve and find your view blocked by a mass of hair.  

“Wow, sweetheart. And I thought we were friends,” Eddie says good-naturedly. 

You scrunch your hand in his sweater to push him away, not unkindly. Guilt gets the better of you and you pat the place over his heart. “We are.”

He makes a kissy sound and dives in toward your neck. Startled, you squeal, stumbling away from his rabid affection and back into the kitchen. He follows, though he doesn’t try anymore kisses. 

“Harrington! I wasn’t joking about the coke. Can I-“

“Help yourself,” Steve says. 

He sounds miserable. 

—

There isn’t time or opportunity to smooth things over with Steve that night. Actually, a week becomes two, and neither do you kiss nor talk about kissing. You want to explain to him what he probably already knows — you really had been standing there for him, hoping for a kiss, a proper kiss. 

He’d looked crushed. You don’t use the word lightly. Steve looked as though somebody had stepped on his chest and pressed all of their weight against his ribs. Frazzled, unhappy. You can’t get the look out of your head, and Christmas doesn’t feel so cheerful with the gap that yawns between you, an icy crevice. 

You try to explain and things get in the way. At the video store, you show up with a plate of apology cookies hoping for a second chance and suddenly the radio breaks and gets stuck blaring ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’ like a storm siren. You meet up for games night with a twig of mistletoe in your purse hoping to be a tad more brazen about it and he sits on the opposite sofa, doesn’t take any pee breaks, effectively foiling your plan with inactivity. You ask him out for hot chocolate over the phone and he can’t come. 

“My parents are flying home. I gotta pick ‘em up from the airport.”

You don’t know whether he’s lying or not. His parents actually being home feels outlandish. If he is lying, he doesn’t want to see you, and if he doesn’t want to see you… 

He doesn’t like you. Not the way you like him. 

You worry you imagined the whole thing, his enthusiasm, his starry eyed smile. 

So you’re giving it one last shot. If it doesn’t work you’ll spend your Christmas heartbroken and sulking, but if it does you might actually get to kiss him. It’s a huge thing, and your hands are shaking with more than the cold as you bump up the small step to Steve’s front door. 

The green wreath hanging below the peep hole jitters as you knock, a fragrant twining of pine and cinnamon sticks. 

The door opens all at once.

“Hi,” you say, biting the tip of your tongue. “Hi, I’m, uh-“

The man who’s answered, who you summarise to be Steve’s father despite never having seen him, looks disinterested. “Steve,” he calls. “One of your friends.”

He walks away with nothing else to say, a dark brown liquid lapping at the sides of his small glass. You pull the wrapped box in hand closer to your chest, shifting from one numbing foot to the other as a small tumbling sound comes from upstairs. A pair of hinges squeal, and Steve is halfway down the stairs before he’s even looked up. 

He slows as he approaches the bottom. 

He’s in pajamas. Sweatpants, nondescript, but his too-tight shirt clearly of the Christmas variety. A snowman smiles over his chest. 

“It’s laundry day,” he says. 

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go out with you-“

“Steve,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Is that… for me?”

The box in your hands is wrapped modestly. You hadn’t wanted to shove Christmas down his throat, trading reds and greens for a shiny silver paper pressed with fine glitter snowflakes. 

“Yeah. It’s for you.”

Steve stares at you. You stare back. 

“I’d invite you in, but…” He shakes his head. “Let me get my coat.”

Steve doesn’t close the door, to his father’s annoyance, deep grumbling echoing from the kitchen area. You watch him shove his socked feet into a pair of sneakers and scramble to grab his coat and a scarf. 

“Okay?” he asks, stepping out onto the path and closing the door behind him. 

You don’t answer, distracted by his hands suddenly held up, the scarf thrown neatly around your neck. He does a single knot and tucks it under your jaw. “Awesome,” he says. 

You walk down his street. Hawkins is half woods, and soon you’re weaving between naked trees, no destination in mind, not one unspoken feeling acknowledged between you. 

“Why do you hate Christmas?” 

It’s just dark enough for Steve’s clouded breath to show against the sky. “I don’t,” he says.

Your footsteps break over leaves so frosted they crackle. 

“I mean, I guess I do,” he says. “I don’t know. I think I want it to be better than it is.” He stops under a tree that’s clinging to its last handful of leaves and gives a low-hanging branch a playful shake. “I never enjoyed it, as a kid. Or, I don’t remember. I’m sure I liked it when I was still snot-nosed.”

“So, last year?” 

He chuckles warmly. “Exactly.”

You walk a little further, too awkward to hand him his gift. 

“I don’t hate it. But it’s cold, and everyone’s rushing, and the bad outweighs the good.” He sounds tired. 

He breaks your heart like that. 

You stop walking and Steve takes your cue, the two of you toe-to-toe, your sneakers dirty, his socks odd. One white and one grey. 

“I got you this because… um, I have something to tell you. I don’t think I can say it out loud, but- but I hope it adds something to the scale.” You extend the box slowly, your fingers stiff with the cold. “You deserve some good. You deserve a lot of good.” 

You laugh, flustered, and Steve joins in, chest lifting with it as he accepts his gift. 

He rips off the wrapping paper, at first carefully and then less so, shoving little pieces into his pocket as he goes. You take the bigger scraps from him so he can look at the box itself. 

Your gift is actually multiple gifts contained inside, and the first isn't technically a gift at all. The Family Video copy of The Christmas Star.

"Is this-" 

"I've been meaning to give it back to you. I'm sorry, I know it's not a real gift, I just figured- I mean, you've never seen it. I thought we should watch it, and that you'd like it if you did. Or maybe you'll hate it, and that would be fine too." 

He nods and moves to the next gift, lips twitching with an emotion he won't share. 

"That's your size, hopefully. I asked Robin but she didn't know. I kept the receipt." 

Steve smiles at you. "Would you hold this?" he asks. 

You put your hands out and take the box back, worried, but he's only unzipping his coat. Quick as a flash he's shrugging into the sweater head first. It's a simple thing, red wool, soft to touch. A Christmas sweater, though there's no decoration beside a tiny holly leaf embroidered at the collar in dark green. 

"This is fucking sweet," he says. 

You agree. He looks good. 

A shiver racks his spine. 

"Put your coat back on, you're gonna freeze," you say gently. 

He beams at you. "My dead body will be the best dressed in the morgue." 

"Don't joke about that!" 

He laughs and gets back into his coat, zip right up to his neck. He still looks cold. 

The third present is a gingerbread house kit. The fourth, a sprig of mistletoe. They're obvious now the sweaters in action, and Steve seems mildly confused by them. You leap to explain. 

"I thought, I mean- I want a do-over." You tilt your cheek toward your shoulder, scared and fond at the same time. "I wanted you to kiss me. I think you wanted to kiss me, and then Eddie," — you laugh loudly, cheeks burning with the cold — "was being himself. And Steve, I brought that stupid plant with me to Robin's house last week hoping we'd be alone, and to work the week before. But you're hard to pin down." 

You take a deep breath before continuing, eyes determined at his collar, "If you don't want to kiss me, that's okay. That's why I brought the gingerbread house, because ours was awesome before it fell apart, and I'm pretty sure Robin gave us a dud on purpose. We made something really cool together, and I think we can do it again." 

"I did want to kiss you. I do." 

You bite the inside of your lip, nose scrunched up in happiness. "You do?" you ask, and there's this feeling in your chest like you could burst, and all the cold shrinks into nothing. You're warm in your arms, your fingers, your fingertips. 

His hand comes up to his face briefly, shielding his eyes. "Am I obvious?" 

"Am I?" 

His exhale tickles your cheeks. "No," he says breathlessly.  "No, you're not." 

He says it like it's a good thing. A great thing. 

"Everybody else knows," you say similarly. 

"I know." 

He brings a hand to your cheek. It's cold, cold as your face, but he still winces and rubs at the apple with his thumb. "You're freezing," he says as he inches forward. 

His lips are warm. More gentle than you'd imagined, hesitant, and the box you're holding stops him from getting as close as you want him to get. He kisses you once, then he pulls away and kisses you again, his lips slightly parted. 

It's better than you'd thought it would be. His palm stroking your cheek, the pressure, the heat. Knowing he wants to kiss you now as he wanted to then. 

"No fucking way," he says, tilting his head back. 

You tip your head back too. Something wet falls in your eyelashes, a drop of rain. 

Not rain. "It's fucking snowing," Steve says. 

It's snowing. Because it's Christmas, and the powers that be are on your side. 

"Happy Christmas, Harrington," you say jovially. 

You're given another kiss in reward. Reward, or to shut you up. You're not sure. 

—

Steve is impartial to Christmas. He doesn't want to get into it but he will, because you love it. 

The snow — the snow, which had fallen thick and fine as powdered sugar, which you adore, and which makes coming to see you in the days leading up to Christmas near impossible. It's something out of a movie, Steve, seriously, and you need to appreciate what's happening. 

The music you play when he comes to see you, records on your record player and cassettes in your tape deck lying on your chest, knee to knee and thigh to thigh with him. Your quiet humming; you won't sing, but the small sounds alone are enough to make him want to kiss you (though everything does now). He can't hate Here Comes Santa Claus when you hum along under your breath, lips skipping over the skin of his bicep, your hand scratching a rhythm into his hair. 

Everybody knows Santa's coming, I don't see why they have to have a whole song about it. 

Are you jealous? I'll write a song about you. Or maybe I can steal one. You ever hear Santa baby? We can make it Stevie baby. 

Christmas music? Not his thing. You calling him baby? Fine, he can get behind it. At least until January. 

Christmas sweaters! He fucking hates them. They're ugly, they're scary, he doesn't wanna walk around with a pom pom on his chest thank you so much, but he has to allow them. Has to. If only so he can watch you get dressed with one eye hidden in your pillow and the other wide open. Thank little baby Jesus in the manger for Christmas sweaters so you have something to tuck into your skirt, so you have a reason to wear a skirt at all, and a reason to take one off. 

Christmas snacks he can get behind. Or, he can get behind this. You on the couch, a needle threaded in your hand. A bowl of popcorn in his lap, and your face as you lean back. 

He throws a kernel and it lands in your open mouth. 

You both holler, twin expressions of unadulterated joy, popcorn spilling over the sides of the bowl. You just look so happy, he climbs on knees to steal a kiss. A smiling kiss, the very best kind. 

"Aren't you supposed to do this stuff before Christmas eve?" he asks. 

"I've been a little busy." 

Steve digs his face into your neck so you won't see him blushing, hands curling around your waist in an impromptu hug. Yes, he supposes you have been. 

You kiss his temple sweetly. 

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs. He really, really means it. 

❆

thanks for reading! im so out of practice but hopefully this is okay!! i meant to post it yesterday but anyhow, i hope you enjoyed <3