#buck tick packs

[dracocorpse]

⠀ׅ⠀ 𓂂 ꧂ 𝆬🚬 ֪ ࣪ ♱⠀ あ ࣪ 𝆬 ࿙♟️࿚

𓂂 🕷️ "ほしい物がひとつきたないささやきを" 🕸️ ֪ ࣪

[writers-potion]

Let's Talk About Pacing Our Fight Scenes.

For Fast-Paced Parts:

Short words with single syllables. Immediately > at once/ endeavour > try/ indicate > point at/ investigate > check out.

Short sentences, the shorter the better.

Partial sentences to blaze through multiple senses and actions within a few lines.

Short paragraphs

Lots of verbs.

Few adjectives and adverbs.

Cut down on -ing form of verbs, as it can make words longer

Use simple past tense

Avoid conjunctions and link words.

Avoid internal thought - your characters are irrational, ruthless and in the flow of pure action.

For Slow-Paced Parts:

Use medium/long sentences

the paragraphs are longer: three lines minimum

Include longer words with more syllables

Use adjectives and maybe a couple of adverbs.

Insert the thoughts of the PoV character.

Words for Action Scenes

act, alter, attack, avert, back, block, bang, bash, battle, beat, beg, belt, bend, best, bite, blacken, bleed, blind, blister, blow, blunt, boil, bolt, boot, bore, bow, box, brace, brag, brash, brawl, break, breathe, brush, buck, bulgde, burn, burst, cackle, call, can, carry, cart, carve, catch, check, chop, chuck, clack, clank, clap, clash, claw, clear, cleave, click, cliff, cling, clip, close, club, cock, coil, cold, collar, come, con, connect, corner, cost, count, counter, cover, cower, crack, crackle, cram, crash, crawl, creep, crinkle, cross, crouch, rush, cry, cuff, cull, cup, curl, curse, curve, cusp, cut, dart, dash, deepen, dig, deep, dip, ditch, drive, drop, duck, dump, ede, effect, erect, escape, exert, expect, feint, fight, fire fist, fit, flag, flare, flash, flick, fling, flip, flock, force, gash, gasp, get, gore, grab, grasp, grip, grope, group, hack, harden, heat, help, hit, hop, hurl, hurry, impale, jab, jar, jerk, join, jolt, jump, keep, kick, kill, knee, knock, knot, knuckle, leak, leap, let, lever, lick, lift, lock, loop, lop, plunge, mask, nick, nip, open, oppose, pace, pack, pain, pair, pale, palm, pan, pant, parry, part, pass, paste, pat, peak, peck, pelt, pick, pierce, pile, ping, piss, pit, pivot, plot, pluck, plug, plunge, ply, point, pool, pop, pose, pot, pound, pour, powder, pray, preen, prepare, prey, prick, prickle, print, probe, pry, pull, pulp, pulse, pump, punch, pursue, push, quarry, quarter, quest, race, raise, rake, ram, rap, rasp, rear, retreat, rip, riposte, rivert, roar, rock, roll, rope, round, rouse, run, rush, sap, scale, scalp, scan, score,scream, seek, seep, shake, shape, sharpen, shock, shoot, shop, slap, slap, slash, slice, slick, slip, slit, smash, snap, snare, snatch, snipe, sock, space, spar, spark, speed, spike, spill, spin, spit, splash, spoil, spring, spur, spurt, spy, squirm, stand, steert, step, stick, strap, strike, stuff, suck, support, swat, sweat, sweep, swingm tack, tag, take, target, taste, team, tear, tent, test, thrash, throw, thrust, thud, tick, tide, tilt, time, tire, top, toss, tower, toy, trap, trick, trigger, trip, triumph, trouble, trump, try, tuck, tug, twril, twitch, weaken, wet, whip, whirl, whirr, whoop, whoosh, whop, work, zap, zip.

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[werecreature-addicted]

u once brought up coyotes and i’ve been hooked ever since 😭😭

so how about a cute sexy coyote who’s been seducing the big bad alpha wolf for so long it got so frustrating that he lets it out on her for days (poor baby can’t walk anymore, can she) idk he eventually wifes her up 😂 a cute lovely ending

love uuu and thanks in advance !

Coyotes really aren't all that different from wolves, they move in packs, they hunt similar prey, and the mating seasons are at the same time of year. So really was it that big of a deal that you were hunting on werewolf territory? No right? you were basically cousins. well, that's what you thought at least, and you were wrong.

The alpha of the pack had caught you sniffing around. you had been warned many many times that wolves didn't tolerate completion on their hunting grounds and killed silly coyotes who got too close hunting for rabbits. now here you were darting through the forest as fast as you could with snapping jaws right on your tail. He's already chased you out of the werewolf territory it's not fair why is he still chasing you? no fair no fair no fair.

he catches you, knocking you to the ground and rolling with you through the grass, he lands on top of you his chest to your back. his big hands pinning your wrists. his knees pinning down your legs so you can't kick him. you struggle, but he's so much stronger than you that the act is basically pointless. You buck your hips back trying to knock him off, he lets out a muffled grunt, then a snarl as your ass pushes back against his crotch.

For some reason, this stirred something inside of you, this isn't so different from the play wrestling male Coyotes did as courting. a warmth spreads in your belly. you were still scared, especially with his sharp teeth hovering over your neck ready to rip your throat out. but there was something else string in you. you had been pinned, face down ass up by a strong powerful male with his groin pressing against you, and your heat was starting to hit because of it. you hated how good this felt.

"I'll let you off with a warning if you don't come back," he growled, his voice as deep and low, you wanted to tell him yes you'd be good, please spare your life, but what came out instead was a low moan as you pushed back against him not trying to escape this time. his nostril flared.

"did you go into heat?" he no longer sounds angry but more, surprised.

"I'll never come back if you just fuck me, let me cum," you pant. he growls again, but you can feel him grind against you, matching the roll of your hips.

"Brat. did you come here just so some wolf might pin you down and ruin your cute cunt? what are those coyote boys aren't big enough for you?" he snarls, you can feel his hardening cock against your behind he was bigger than any coyote you'd fucked before. you'd never been so horny before in your life, it's not even going to fit inside of you this big werewolf cock is going to split you right in half and you couldn't be happier.

"say it, say that this is what you wanted all along," he demands, teasing your pussy with the thick dip of his cock. you try to buck back and take his dick inside of you, he grabs the back of your head and shoves your face down in the grass forcing you to say in place. "Say it," he repeats.

"I just want your cock in me, it's all i want please please pl-" Your begging is cut off as his tick cock pushes inside of you. he's so big you feel like you can't breathe. the pain is delicious. you definitely won't be walking after this, you hope he and the rest of his pack take advantage of it.

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader, past Suguru x reader, in this chap also some Shoko x reader- It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Content warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity. Abusive gaslighting Suguru. Yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Rough sex, whipping, paddling, obsessed behavior, stalking, deep throating, female on female oral, use of nipple clamps and pain play, dacryphilia, breeding kink PSYCHO stalker SATORU but he's hot. And reader likes it!? Toxic relationship some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you)

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 12.6k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Split btwn Satoru's POV and yours

Chapter 6 ꕥ Masterlist ꕥ Playlist

Chapter 7

The next night

Your POV

The bar is packed that night, you’re going to head out early with Satoru to finally get that date you’ve been dying for. And there Satoru is, sitting there at the bar while you work, with his fancy outfit in the wild sports bar, looking like a million bucks. He is sipping on the sweetest drink you could concoct, watching you intently.

The music is thumping and the lights flashing, creating a chaotic yet energetic atmosphere. You and Choso are bustling around, serving drinks and trying to keep up with the demand. As the time ticks by, there is a tightness in your chest, while you bend over now, breasts on full display in a pretty pink corset top. Satoru licks that lower lip, glaring at you, and you give him a wink.

“Gotta get good tips, Toru.” You whisper, taking his glass and shaking him a new drink, his blue eyes glow even in the dark club.

“Little bitch, you're so getting punished tonight.” He murmurs, and your brows raise, as his words send desire, hot straight to your tummy. You tense as his words wash all over you, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“Well I have a short shift so that I can leave for the date, Sir.” You whisper now, leaning close, your hands brushing against his as you pour his drink, the clear pink liquid into that little martini glass. He smirks up at you.

“Quit working and move in.”

“Wha-!?”

He chuckles now, and fuck it’s nice, to see the face so normally in pain, or in anger, genuinely smile. He’s so beautiful he makes your damn heart ache, every movement of his azure eyes lights you on fire, like you can physically feel it all. He’s so intensely watching, the entire time, and you have to wonder if he had done this before but…

You really don’t care.

You enjoy his gaze, his jealousy, his possessiveness. The way he watches every movement, like he’s watching a dance. You like him saying to not work anymore, fuck you almost want to, say fuck independence and let this six foot four man fuck your brains out daily. Who wouldn’t? It also didn’t help that just a smirk from those lips has you wet.

“He’s intense, yeah?” Choso murmurs, earning Satoru sticking his tongue out, and Choso does it back, making you giggle.

“He’s super intense.” You say, earning the middle finger now. “Woah!”

“Brats, both of you.” You and Choso laugh then, as you’re filled with this odd joy just for the moment. Satoru and Choso surprised you by getting along, with Satoru being so possessive with you, and hating everyone, you were honestly surprised. And Choso enjoyed him, even though you did omit Satoru’s more concerning behaviors.

He doesn’t need to know everything.

The bar is a whirlwind of chaos, with the thirsty patrons shouting for drinks, the clinking of glasses, and the constant throb of the bass from the speakers. You manage to keep up the facade of a happy, flirty bartender while serving drinks with a shaky hand here and there.

“Shit, she’s here.” You murmur then, and look to the barback, smiling and batting your lashes. “Could you take over for a few?” You ask sweetly, and he blushes, nodding eagerly.

“Of course!” You walk past the bar then, and up to Satoru who pulls you against him roughly, leaving you breathless.

“Stop flirting, brat. Every time you do I’ll smack the fuck out of you.” He grips you right then and there, and you can’t stop biting your lower lip, as you stand between his legs.

“You jealous of little me, Toru?” You whisper, and he scowls, but then she’s finally here, Shoko Ieri.

She smiles sadly at you, and you leave the position between Satoru’s legs to hold out your hands, which she gladly takes, dark eyes taking you in. “I wasn’t sure you’d come!”

“I am so fucking sorry, shit. I swear… he didn’t tell me you had any rules.” She says, and you pull her away, looking at Satoru now.

“Let’s go where it’s quieter, okay? But first, Cho can she have some wine? The best we have.” Choso pours the fanciest you all have, and she takes it gratefully, eyeing him then.

“Fuck, aren’t you hot.” She says, and you see Choso blush a bit, making you giggle as you look between them.

“Isn’t he young for you, cougar?” Satoru teases, and she shoves at him, glaring now.

“Cougar, then what are you, old man?”

“I’m thirty one!”

“I'm thirty, shithead!”

“You’re very pretty.” Choso says softly, and Shoko melts, as he holds out a tattooed hand, decked out in rings. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, love.” He kisses her hand over the bar, and Shoko’s mouth is left open as he gets back to working. “Why didn’t you just date him!?”

“You bitch.” Satoru grumbles, and she grins.

“What, he’s so sweet! And hot.” She sips her wine and may or may not be checking out Choso’s ass. “You’re a psycho, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah, she likes it.” He says, running a hand down your waist, and you can’t stop your little gasp, nor the dilation of your eyes. Shoko looks back and forth between you now, shifting her weight on one leg.

“Oh shit, you’re in love.” Satoru goes wide-eyed then, as do you, looking at her as she’s so calm, humming to herself. “What, you’re not? Knew it that night, just didn’t know the mess that happened.”

“Come on, you two.” You pull them both now, guiding them to where the pool tables were, a quieter area of the bar where people weren’t shouting and singing drunkenly. They both sit down now, and Satoru yanks you on his lap, despite your protests.

“In love.” Shoko quips again, Gojo scowls at her, but she just shrugs, and you’re blushing under the club lights once more.

“He hates me.” You say, and she scoffs at that, as Satoru’s wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing you firmly on his hard lap.

“I do hate her, so much.”

“Mmhmm, well if that’s hate, cut me off some.” You giggle at that, holding her hand now, smiling. “I thought you would hate me after that night. I really didn’t know what was going on. He told me you two were completely open, and you were like fucking Satoru on the side.”

“What! Oh god. No, the first time Satoru and I did anything was with Suguru…” Satoru tenses under you, you can feel his anger, his upset. You stroke a hand gently with your own soft fingers, trying to calm him. “And I respected his rules, though I will say I did kiss Satoru when not with him. But it was like… the way Satoru looked at me…”

“In love you mean.” You grin, and Satoru is flipping her off, sipping his drink now, grip tightening.

“Whatever it is.” You peek down, and his look softens just a bit, that mad look in his insane blue eyes that wrecks your every sense. You brush his hair back for a moment, and his white long lashes flutter shut, his lips relaxing in that firm set of his jaw, and you enjoy just that far too much, just looking at him. “I knew something was different than how Suguru did.”

Shoko studies you two, grabbing a cigarette then looking at you. “Will it bother you?”

“No go ahead.” You say, and she sighs, pulling a lighter out. She flicks with the lighter, then Satoru takes it, shaking it up and pushing it down, igniting a flame for her. She brushes her pretty hair back, leaning forward, taking an inhale then.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Sure thing, brat.” She rolls her eyes at him and he hands her back the lighter, his hands going back to your hips.

“The way Suguru looked at me, it just… isn’t the same, and then when I noticed how he looked at you um… I was worried. But it wasn’t until Satoru that I really worried, because I could tell he was head over heels, and that I wasn’t that for him.” Shoko looks away then, over at the bar, where Choso is flipping bottles in the air, to the cooes of the crowd.

“I didn’t think he had it that bad for me. I was thrown off too, but then he assured me you two were so open. Now I feel like a whole bitch, I am part of what’s hurt you so bad now.” Shoko says, sighing.

“No, no… it’s on him if you didn’t have that information.” You say, she smiles a bit with her thin, pretty lips.

“I really only played because of you.” You blink then, as she caresses your cheek, leaning forward a bit. “You were so hot, and I was curious about Suguru I guess, all these years.”

“Me?” She laughs, leaning back and taking another hit, dark circles only enhancing her eyes as she looks up and down your body.

“Yeah you, like a little barbie.” You feel Satoru’s chuckle under you, shaking your body gently.

“That’s what she is, isn’t she?” Satoru hums, only further making you warmer with all the attention. “Sexy little barbie.” He nips at your bare shoulder, as Shoko watches with amusement.

“Toru…” You wiggle just a bit, making him suck in a breath, as your thighs shift with desire.

“Of course I was interested, and I must say… she’s elite, isn’t she Satoru?” You’re a mess now, cheeks on fire, red to your damn ears, and Satoru is getting even more insistently hard as you shift more, doing stupid things to your psyche.

“Elite pussy, absolutely. So elite I turned down a blow job.”

“You!?”

“Oh I can’t even imagine fucking anyone again. Too obsessed.”

“Holy fuck, well there you go. Who needs Suguru then.” You giggle a bit, but then grow a little serious.

“That’s not all, he… well he planned all of this, fucking me, to begin with, long before I met him. All because um… you and Toru had sex.” Shoko glares then, slamming down her wine.

“What now? Suguru wouldn’t… would he?” She looks to Satoru, who’s frowning now, just nodding a bit. “Fuck, he’s like that now? I know he’s changed, but… to play you and bring you into this? The fuck, man.”

“And he’s assaulted her.” Satoru casually says, and you stiffen a bit, as Shoko stands.

“Yeah what? He what?”

“More wine, Shoko?” You ask softly, standing, and she nods, caressing your cheek softly.

“Please, angel? I need something stronger for this shit.”

Soon the three of you are talking about everything, and Shoko looks so disgusted as you tell her what Suguru’s done, now she’s taking shots, you all are actually, you split your tips you’ve made with the barback as a thank you. Choso is smiling over at the three of you, and despite everything Suguru has done, he hasn’t broken your spirit, it’s still thriving.

“Satoru sucked in bed.” Shoko says, and he snorts, taking a shot himself now. “What you did.”

“You sucked in bed, so fucking lazy.”

“Worst fuck ever.” She says with a shiver, and you’re awkwardly looking back and forth as they look at you. “Now her…”

“Yes, her…” They both touch your arm on either side, and you look down shyly as they look at each other, then you. “I won’t share her with a guy, and I wouldn’t fuck you again Shoko… yuck…”

“Same, you’re so gross… but…” They’re grinning now, and you look between them wildly.

“What’s in your devious minds you two, I’m not sure I like it.” Shoko laughs, sultry now.

“Well if you don’t touch me at all…” He says, pressing kisses on your neck as he is speaking to Shoko.

“Oh I don’t want to. I’d say don’t touch me but I can tell your hands will be all over her anyway.” She kisses on your neck too, and you’re buzzed and confused. “Maybe I just prep her for you and leave.”

“Prep me!? What-”

“I’m okay watching that. But remember she’s mine.”

“You’re so psycho, Satoru-”

“Hey, I’m here you know!” You wave your hands now, and they just smirk down at you, Satoru all tall and gorgeous, Shoko petite and pretty.

“What would piss Suguru off the most? Me picking you over him.” She whispers then, and you gasp, looking at Satoru.

“But you said no sharing, ever stalker.” He grins at you as you say that, his snowy white hair falls over his brow just so, glinting silver in the lights.

“I’ll give this one exception, it’s a win-win. Watch your pussy get eaten out and Suguru gets fucked? Fucking genius.”

“My pussy… oh.” You’re covering your face with two hands, blushing furiously as they stare at you hungrily now.

“Yeah, sweets, you know one way to test it.” She picks up her phone then, and your heart is pounding as she video chats Suguru. You watch as he pops up on the video then, and she sips her drink, looking positively devious. Satoru’s sliding his hand under your skirt, rubbing over your panties, and you look up at him, wide eyed.

“You like that idea, little slut.” He hums, pressing in, and your eyes flutter shut as you get wetter, against his finger pressing your clit now. You struggle to focus, faintly hearing Suguru’s voice, then Shoko aims the camera towards you, and she kisses your cheek then.

“The fuck? Why are you there?” Suguru asks, and Shoko laughs, throaty and sexy, that mixed with Satoru’s finger sliding under your skirt brazenly in a damn bar is making you tremble. It slips under your panties now, finding you hot and slick, and your hips buck up.

It’s so naughty you can’t stand it, how amazing it feels to have his touch, a secret one in a crowded bar you work at. It’s hard to remember Suguru exists at times, not when Satoru is bending down, whispering in your ear. Not when he’s sliding that finger between your lips, and you’re biting back a moan, his other hand splaying the expanse of your waist, pressing in.

Fuck you’re wet.

“I’m here visiting her, of course. You know, she’s just too yummy, isn’t she, Satoru?” Shoko’s intent is clear, and you can’t even face Suguru right now.

“Shoko, what are you even doing. I’ll come and-”

“Nah, we’re headed out soon. R & R, you know. I could video it for you, Suguru, isn’t that what you forced on her while you were whoring around?”

“You don’t know… I didn’t… Shoko, just me and you talk please. I don’t need them there.”

“Well, then leave her alone and sure, I’ll talk to you. Can you do that, can you leave this girl the fuck alone?”

“I was just upset I… yes, if you’ll talk to me, please.”

“Pathetic.” Satoru murmurs behind you, his finger pressing in now, and you start pulsing around it as it curls up.

“Fine then, keep your word. But I’m totally thinking of eating your ex out tonight, does that upset you, Sugu?” She says with a mock pout, and you fade out the rest of their conversation, because Satoru’s fingers are hitting far too good, and he’s moaning softly, turning your knees weak.

“T-Toru…” You murmur, you know no one can see his hand but you wonder if they can see that pleasure on your face. You grip the arm that’s wrapped around you tightly as Shoko and Suguru go at it.

“So wet for me, aren’t you baby? Pretty little fucking… whore… all for me… say it baby.” He’s pumping in and out as he barely speaks, so quiet it’s like he’s in your damn head, and you try to stop your eyes from rolling back, as your nipples press against your corset, begging for more, and your cunt is soaking his hand fully now.

“For you.” You say softly, and he groans now, sending shivers down your spine as he presses that spongy little spot, right in your tight walls.

“Remember, even if she eats you out, I'm letting her, because you're all mine, yeah? You’re all mine, forever… can’t ever fucking leave.”

“Fuck you’re toxic…” He snorts at that, but you agree, nodding again. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod again, then Shoko hangs up finally, smiling at the two of you as her eyes rake over your body.

“You two are already playing, I see. Hmm…” She comes in front of you, bending down to kiss you then, and you feel Satoru pumping even harder as she does. “So don't you have a date?”

You struggle to speak, as Satoru is playing you so damn perfectly. “I… y-yeah, we do.”

“I’ve already got a limo for the date, let me take you home, you two can play on the way. I have drinks and everything.” Satoru says softly. “But just once, and remember-”

“Yours. Damn he's psycho.” You giggle at that but then gasp as his fingers press in deeper and Shoko kisses you once more.

“Fuck thats hot. Let's go, now.” Satoru grumbles.

“Lemme say bye to Cho!” Satoru sighs.

“I'll say bye too.” Shoko teases, and Satoru reluctantly pulls his fingers out, sucking on them, making you throb now, thighs shifting as you watch him, elegant fingers in between his lips. Your mouth is open, earning his sharp grin, only for Shoko to drag you to the bar, but you feel Satoru's gaze burn a damn hole in your back.

Soon you’re in Satoru’s limo, which was far too big and luxurious, the only time you’d been in one is prom, and he’s lounging right beside you, pushing champagne into your mouth. You sip it eagerly, as he watches you, blue eyes glowing even in the dark of the limo, lit up with a rope of LEDs, as Shoko preps to take another shot of tequila, looking at you then.

“Satoru, can I take a shot off her tits?” She asks, and he chuckles, running his hands down your shoulders.

“Please do. I should take one too.” He murmurs, and you take the shot now, putting it between your breasts, making Satoru moan as his lashes lower, long fingers running down your breasts where they’re full and high with your corset. “Fuck you’re sexy, so slutty too bet you’ve done this.”

“Of course I have, you mad, Toru?” You push him playfully, making him grip a wrist, as he licks it, making you shiver. Shoko pours a little salt on your wrist, then takes one of the limes off the plates there.

“Watching you two is like porn, jesus. Open this pretty mouth, sweets.” She says, and you do so, taking the rind of the lime in your mouth now, and Satoru licks the salt of your wrist now, before burying his face against your breasts, sucking the shot down his throat.

You watch that adams apple bob, so fucking sexy, just a drip of tequila running down his throat now, and he then takes the lime in his teeth, the juices dripping down your chin. You’re so eager for him you can’t stand it, it’s like every movement your psycho… maybe boyfriend!?... takes is like sex itself. He gently takes the lime from your mouth now, lapping his tongue along your jawline.

You moan softly, as he licks all the juice off, until he gets to your mouth, and you taste the bite of that agave on his tongue, you greedily kiss him back, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke. He’s got his big hand on your cheek, sliding back to your hair and pulling, moaning softly as he does.

“Y’know, I tasted her first, yeah?” Shoko says, and he turns and pulls away, lips smacking as he does, glaring at her.

“Shoko!” You say, and she just chuckles behind her hand.

“You’re such a bitch. I bet I eat pussy so much better.” He says, and she rolls her eyes, coming to you and licking your wrist now.

“Bet I do. You always had to be perfect at everything, little shit.” She salts your wrist and he scoffs, rolling his blue eyes. Something about their friendship seems so natural and real, they just react differently than Suguru had with her, it was like they were truly friends despite perhaps a mistake in the past.

“How’d you all have sex? No offense, I can’t see it.” You said then, and Shoko grimaces, as Satoru shivers in disgust.

“Oh god we were wasted, and I had a bad break up. We were like nineteen, then, just so young. I barely remember more than it sucked.” She says, and Satoru snorts as he sits next to you, brushing your hair back behind your ears, placing a shot glass back between your breasts now.

“I don’t remember much except the next morning we were so disgusted, we said we’d never bring it up. It was like two seconds in before we both thought, the fuck are we doing.” Satoru says.

“Oh… I noticed that night how you all seemed just like friends fully. Whereas Suguru…”

“Fuck Suguru. That’s what I’ll take the shot to.” Shoko says, and you and Satoru grin.

“Cheers to that. Also I’m putting this on Insta, let’s make him suffer some more, yeah?” Satoru says, filming on the phone then, and Shoko grins, then she is licking your wrist, before taking the shot from your breasts, gulping it down her delicate throat, then Satoru takes the glass as she bites the fresh slice of lime.

When she takes it away she’s kissing you, and Satoru cuts off the video, as he comes to pull on your hair, pricking pain tears in your eyes, and you gasp as Shoko teasingly swirls her tongue in your mouth. Satoru yanks you then, slamming his lips upon your own, overtaking your already addled senses, as the alcohol warms your tummy and desire hits it.

When he pulls back, you remember the time with Suguru, and expect them to kiss, but they’re just hungrily staring at you. “Do you all not wanna kiss or anything?” You ask curiously, they both look disgusted then.

“Don’t make us.” Shoko says, and you laugh as Satoru rolls his eyes again, running a fingertip down your chin.

“I only want you, evil little brat that you are.” He says huskily, kissing you again now, spreading your thighs. “But I do want to watch you, watch that pretty face cum, feel you…”

“Fuck.” You whine out now, and Satoru is behind you, you’re on his lap as Shoko is between your thighs, shoving up your skirt now. Satoru has your chin tilted as he leans forward, so tall and lanky, to watch your face now. “Satoru…”

“Remember you’re mine.” He says, and you nod, as you then turn to look down at Shoko, brushing her silky hair back, as she looks up at you. She licks her lips, and you can feel the heat building between your thighs.

"You're so beautiful," she says, her voice a low purr.

You can feel Satoru's hands sliding down your hips, before they hook in your panties, shoving them down your legs, as Shoko finishes taking them off, gliding them down your ankles. You feel Satoru’s breath against your cheek, as his hardness presses against your ass, and Shoko’s sweet breath tickles your thigh.

“You are so beautiful, so beautiful it fucking kills me. All of you.” Satoru says, husky then, and Shoko's hands glide up your legs. Her mouth is hot and wet as it touches your inner thigh, and you gasp, your eyes closing involuntarily.

“You both are so hot, fuck.” You whine, and they both laugh a bit, tickling your skin even more, you’re a trembling fucking mess as Satoru holds you so tight with one arm around your waist.

As Shoko continues to kiss and lick higher and higher, you’re running one hand down her shoulder, down soft skin, as the other reaches back to Satoru’s face, leaning your head back at an angle to look at him. Desire flaring on his face as he looks right at you, like you’re the only thing in his world, like you are his world, and it takes your breath away.

You can't help but arch your back, your body begging for more, pressing further against his hard body and up for her kisses. Satoru's hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, sending waves of pleasure through you along with Shoko teasing your clit with her tongue, looking up at you, her long nails pressing into your inner thighs.

“Oh my god! Mnh…” You cry out now, making her smile against you, you feel the upturn of her lips.

"You like that, baby?" Satoru whispers, his voice full of satisfaction. You nod, unable to form coherent words when Shoko's mouth moves lower, and you can feel her breath against your entrance, making you shiver. She looks up at you, her dark eyes filled with lust.

"Ready for me to get serious, sweets?" She asks, and you nod again, throat constricted as Satoru yanks one of your breasts out of that top, pinching your nipples hard.

With a wicked grin, Shoko dives in, her tongue parting your folds and sliding inside you. You cry out, the sensation so intense that you're not sure if you can handle it. But as she starts to move, as she explores and tastes, you find yourself lost in the moment, unable to think about anything but the pleasure she's giving you, and the man allowing it.

You can feel Satoru's hand moving down to grip your hip, his other hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head back. His mouth is on yours again, claiming you, possessing you, as if to remind you that no matter who else is touching you, you belong to him. And fuck if you don’t realize it, even as you’re getting wetter and wetter, soaking Shoko’s pretty face.

The very limo spins around you as the two of them work in tandem, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, delicate fingers, then rough long ones. You've never felt anything like this before, never been so exposed and so wanted, even in your experiences before. Because now Satoru could act exactly how he wants to, claiming you, all over you, not holding back.

He’s moaning in your ear, pressing up as she continues to bring you higher and higher now, and you’re crying out, your body shaking as you try to keep it together, Satoru’s mouth on yours, Shoko’s tongue in your pussy. You can’t believe what’s happening, but the feeling is so intense that you’re screaming out brokenly in the limo, to their soft sighs and cries.

Shoko’s tongue swirls around your clit, and you moan louder, your body arching off Satoru’s lap at it, then his hand moves up to your throat, squeezing gently, that perfect pressure he knows. “You’re close, aren’t you little slut?”

“Y-yes, close, close.” You whisper, as Satoru is gripping your hips, moving them and controlling your movements as you grind against her face, as Satoru bites your neck hard, and you’re shaking as the pain mixes with Shoko’s talented tongue.

“Cum, like a good little whore for me, baby. Let go now.” He orders, and you do just as he says, eating up his words as he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you as he watches you fall apart, hunger all over his face. “Let me see you.”

Satoru’s POV

Satoru feels your little body tense now, as you press against him, two lines between those eyebrows, your face contorted in pleasure, as you’re reddening just a bit when he squeezes even harder. Your pretty eyes roll back, and you gasp for breath as Shoko makes you cum, and he looks down to see you’re gushing all over her, and she’s drinking it up.

Satoru’s precum is sticking to his boxers, his pants as you cum, hips bucking up, your hands gripping his wrist as you look right at him with blown out eyes. Your lips part as you struggle to breath, fuck your life is just in his hands isn’t it? You’re all his, and you seem to know it, even as he lets her bring you to orgasm, you’re looking right at him the entire time.

Satoru could cum right now, but he’ll wait, till you’re all alone. He needs to do so many things to you tonight, now that you’re all his, he needs to make you such a fucking pathetic mess under him. He lets you go now, and you suck up a greedy breath, as Shoko rises, licking her lower lip and smirking at you, and you giggle breathlessly, your lush breasts heaving now.

Satoru takes those breasts in his hands, feeling you shiver against him as he feels their weight in his hands, so fucking perfect. His thumbs brush on your perky nipples now, making them taut as Shoko leans up to kiss you, and fuck if it’s not hot to watch you, kissing her back, your tongues messy, just a tiny bit of saliva dripping between both of you as she cups your face.

You turn to him then, a beautiful blush decorating your cheeks, and you turn your body toward Satoru, cupping his face with your small hands, tenderly, resting your forehead on his. And Satoru knows then, this is so past the obsession and lust, and it’s past falling, Satoru Gojo is madly in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

With you.

You.

He can never let you go, he can never let anything happen to you, fuck he can’t stand the thought of you not in his arms. He doesn’t even know how he’ll work without you there, will he bring you every day and have you warm his cock with your perfect cunt as he works? Will he fuck you over his desk and cum in you over and over, until you’re pregnant?

Will he come to your work every day and watch you, fuck you in that break room so much you’ll trip and fall as you try to be flirtatious in your little outfits? The ones that show too much of that tight fucking body, of your supple curves that constantly make his hands itch to grab you? The ones no one should see.

Should Satoru just hide you away?

No, you love your life too much, and he loves you enough to suffer others seeing you, for now. But the thoughts linger, of just keeping you at his house for him and only him, and bringing you everywhere he goes. He could keep you so fucked out you’d not care, not when he controls your body so well, not when you’re so clearly into him as well.

Feelings for him?

Feelings… for him.

You have them.

How?

Satoru kisses you softly then, exhaling, as you turn in his lap, and one of his hands splays your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribcage. You kiss him so sweetly, over and over, until it takes everything not to fuck into you, but he wants to keep that just for you all, he can’t have someone else, not when he has to lose himself in your every breath, your every sound, every touch.

You’re his now.

“You two are gonna make a baby. I need to get home.” Shoko teases, and he laughs as he watches you giggle, and fuck if it’s not so sweet to hear that throaty little laugh, to watch your face scrunch up so happy for once.

“That was amazing, Shoko. Don’t you want me to return?” You ask her softly now, your delicate fingers brushing back Shoko’s dark hair. She smirks a bit, her eyes going lidded.

“This psycho here is about to lose his shit as it is, but I had fun pleasing you.” She says, and Satoru watches you shift a bit, looking up at him now.

“Toru, don’t you wanna see my skills?” You ask, pouting so pretty, and he chuckles a bit, tapping your nose, why do you make him so stupidly happy, what is it about you?

“You can but I will bury my face in your pussy. I don’t know if I can look at Shoko like that.” Shoko laughs then.

“Same, I don’t wanna watch you two fuck again it was weird. But if you want to, Sweets, you can. Oh fuck my phone has gone crazy.” She picks it up as it’s buzzing, she sits next to you now, laughing. “Suguru is blowing it the fuck up.”

“Oh gosh I hope I didn’t give you a headache.” You say, you always care so much about others, and not enough about yourself, it makes Satoru angry, but at the same time he enjoys this so much about you. He’s kissing up your neck now, you tremble just a bit in his arms, he watches little goosebumps form on your smooth skin, everywhere he touches.

“Nah he’s bullshit for all this. Oh, he’s so fucking mad. He wants to come talk to me now.”

“Would he hurt you?” You ask, and she shakes her head. “Are you sure… I don’t want to-”

“Sweets, I’m good, promise. He won’t do shit except grovel at my feet. Now, I should head to my place so I can deal with him, get him to stop fucking with you both, I hope. If I just explain, Satoru and I are not interested and never have been. Do you think he’s too far gone, Satoru?” Shoko asks then, and Satoru sighs, for he can’t imagine how Suguru could redeem himself after what he’s done to you.

Satoru feels so much intense hatred towards him now, he’d been through so much pain because of a stupid fucking mistake years back, and now you have been through pain. Your first experience was now horrible, ruined for you, so Satoru detests Suguru so much, the one closest to him, but he’s going to make sure he doesn’t get near you ever again.

“I’ll keep her safe, don’t worry, Shoko. If he tries some shit, call me, don’t let him touch you, alright?”

Shoko nods, then leans in to kiss you goodbye, before punching Satoru in the shoulder, making him stick his tongue out at her. You slide off him then, sliding between her legs and slipping up her little black dress, looking to Satoru to get permission, and fuck if you’re not so hot now.

“Once, I’ll allow it. For scientific purposes.” He muses, making you giggle as Satoru tells the driver where to go.

You bend over right in front of him, you still have no panties on, so Satoru slides a finger down your slick folds, making your toned thighs tremble under his touch, he feels those muscles as his free hand runs down them, those calves so tight from your heels you prance around in, to the buckle of that heel still around your ankles.

You clench around his fingers, your soppy little cunt sucking him in when he slides two inside, past that tight entrance, as his other hand slips back up your thigh, gripping your ass, pulling your pussy wider for him. Shoko’s eyes shut in pleasure and she’s screaming out now as you bury your face, and he hears little sounds of you lapping her up.

Fuck you’re sexy, Satoru said he wouldn’t watch, but he’s watching you, and your little hand gripping Shoko’s slender thigh, while your free hand reaches back to Satoru, he takes it and shoves it behind your waist, pressing you further down, and you start gushing around his fingers now. You want him to control you, don’t you? With your little whines mixing with Shoko’s moans filling the limousine.

Shoko’s pulling at your hair, arching her hips up for more, and you’re shuddering as Satoru starts pressing on that spot, your hand sliding up to cup one of Shoko’s breasts, as you bring her higher, Satoru is pressing you closer and closer to your edge once more. You’re pulsing, and fuck he could slip into you now, as he’s holding your delicate wrist so tightly.

You come up for a gasp of air, crying out from his fingers, scissoring in and out of your perfect cunt, hair flowing down your back as you do, then you dive back down and with a couple more flicks Shoko has fallen apart, and she’s cumming on your beautiful face. Satoru lets your wrist go, yanking you up by your hair to look at your face now, soaked and glistening, and you lick your lips with a mischievous little grin.

Satoru swipes at Shoko’s wetness, his eyes drinking you in, and he smirks a bit as he pulls your hair hard, like you enjoy it. “You better have enjoyed that, you’re not doing it again.” He whispers, you whine out pathetically, leaning up to kiss him, but he holds you just a bit off, to keep you needy.

“Never again why, that’s so amazing. Elite.” Shoko muses, adjusting herself then, breathless, but Satoru glares at her. “Yours, I get it crazy.”

“Mmhmm. She enjoys it too much, slutty brat.” Satoru says, kissing you then, and you make this mewling sound from the back of your throat, back to straddling him. Fuck you feel so good in his arms, so good on him, as he inhales that scent, sweet jasmine mixed with your heady arousal. Shoko giggles at you two, grabbing her purse and yanking a pack of cigarettes out.

“Bye you crazy kids.” The limo comes to a stop now, and Shoko stretches, pecking a kiss on your cheek, looking at her phone now. “I think I’ll beat his ass, sounds fun to me.”

“Bye, Shoko, thank you so much.” You say softly, and she smiles, a little sad looking now.

“I still feel like shit, but maybe it’s all for the best, you’ve got psycho ass Satoru now, hmm?” Satoru flips her off, and the two of you just laugh. Shoko waves as she steps out, and Satoru looks down at you, stroking your cheek.

“Ready to go home for a few, baby?”

“Baby, not slut? And home now huh? That’s quick.” You whisper, and he just thinks of you, on his bed, what if you never leave, just stay there naked, waiting. Fuck the thought has him leaking more pre cum, cock straining.

“I have a dress there for you, brat. Can’t have you out in this where we’re going, hot as it is.” You kiss him then, softly, cupping his face.

“Thank you, Toru, that’s thoughtful.” You say, and he scoffs, but at that look in your glittery eyes? Fuck.

“Tch, it’s nothing, I need to dress you up, like my little doll to use.” He says, running his fingers down your arms, and watching you ignite under that touch.

And just like that, Satoru’s world shifts, the anger is a constant, but it’s now tempered with this fierce love for you, and the desire to keep you safe, to keep you in his arms forever. The intense need to fuck you until you can’t remember anything else except for the feeling of him deep inside you, to make you cum until you can’t walk straight.

Fuck he needs to kiss you until you can’t breathe, to make you love him just as much as he loves you, because there was no turning back now, was there? And as the limo starts moving, he’s already thinking of all the ways he’s going to make that happen tonight, all the positions he’ll have you in, all the ways he’ll watch that perfect face in pleasure.

You’re straddling him, your hands on his shoulders as he kisses along your neck, making sure to bite you hard, your skin in his teeth, making you gasp as your head is against his shoulder, feeling his hardness beneath you. Satoru’s hand is squeezing your ass as he whispers into your ear.

“You’re mine, all mine, you know that right?” You exhale, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“You’re so intense, Satoru Gojo. But yes, I know. I made that choice when I called you that night.” You brush back his hair carefully, fuck your touch feels so good to him, it’s hard to take. “Satoru…”

“Mmm, what brat?” He asks, squishing your breasts in his hand and watching your expression.

“Tell me something no one else knows about you.” And for a moment, Satoru Gojo is surprised, his eyes flickering to the side, for you’ve caught him off guard. He thinks of so much he wants to tell you, about himself, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“That photo, I stole it from Suguru’s phone when you started dating.” He says, and you suck in a breath, eyes going wide. “It’s one of you in lingerie, that outfit that has crotchless panties and your tits out. The amount of times I’ve cum to it…”

“Yeah, you did? Stroke yourself to it?” You whisper as you grind on him, and he moans, yanking you even closer and pressing up, feeling the heat of your eager cunt against his clothed cock.

“I’m breaking you in half tonight for this fucking mouth. Still taste Shoko on you, you know that?” He huffs, and watches your eyes dilate, the pupils overtaking your lighter irises, like a little ring now.

“Do you like that too, Satoru?” You ask softly, and he exhales, pressing up again, watching your head tilt back, exposing more of your pretty throat for his kisses, his bites, his tongue as your heat enwraps his cock.

“Nothing like your taste, evil little brat. You consume me.” He grabs your waist as he keeps licking a trail up the side of your neck, he feels your nipples pressing against his chest. “I would picture fucking you on my desk, would stroke myself in my office looking at it.”

“You need more pictures of me, huh?” You tease, and he sighs, nodding, as the Limo stops once more.

“I have a set for you to wear, under that dress. I’ll tie you up and do a photoshoot like that.” You blush right in front of him, even in the dark, and he smiles at that. “Never been tied up?”

“Of course I haven’t been, crazy. You mean my wrists?” You ask, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“Nah, entire fucking body. Hang you from my ceiling. You blush everywhere, you know?”

“Shush. Letting your crazy ass tie me up seems like a bad decision, what if you keep me tied up!?” He smirks up at you, it’s like you’re reading his goddamn mind, of his baser instincts that he shoves deep down.

“Only one way to find out, but that’s after the date. We’re here, c’mon.” He taps your hips now, and the driver opens the door. Satoru stands and tips him, letting him know to wait for a while, before giving you his hand to step out, when you step in the house he can’t help but press you against a wall, slamming his lips down on yours brutally.

You melt into his arms, lips so pliable and sweet, and Satoru briefly considers fucking you against that wall, but he wants to make you beg, plead, and you’re already close to it. You whine out, reaching down to rub his aching cock now, making Satoru even harder, sticking to his fucking boxers, pressing into your hand.

“Let me suck you for a bit first, please?” You ask softly, and he chuckles just a bit, as he brushes his thumb down your full lower lip.

“Then get on your knees, you can see what you’ve been doing to me all damn day.” You drop right to your knees, and Satoru takes one hand, pulling at your hair as one braces on the wall, and you’re unzipping him, opening your mouth eagerly, Satoru shoves your face on him, feeling the back of your throat, so wet and tight. “Oh my… f-fuck… that’s it, take it down that throat.”

You’re sucking and licking so eagerly, as he uses your throat, looking down at eyes watering with tears that trickle down the corners, landing on your long lashes, dripping to your cheeks. You are so fucking beautiful when you cry, aren’t you? Satoru feels your throat constricting around his length as you suck a breath through your nose, just like he showed you.

“Wanna know how often I came to that picture?” You whine, nodding now and pulling back just a bit to suck him, lapping his precum out of his tip hungrily.

“Please tell me, please.” You beg, voice hoarse from his cock, then he pulls your hair even harder, hips snapping his cock into that perfect throat again and again, you make his entire body shiver with pleasure, as his mind wanders, eyes rolling back in his head at how perfect you feel.

“I would lay in bed at night, picturing all the ways I would have you, how I’d suck, bite and kiss your skin until you’re black and fucking blue. Pinch those nipples so hard they’re swollen, then I’d beat that nice little ass of yours too, hit it over and over till you’re covered in my handprints- ah fuck!”

You’re moaning around him, bobbing on him so good, fuck you’re such a good girl, aren’t you for him? Satoru pulls out then, your cheeks hollow as you suck so hard, until he pulls out with a pop, and sees you’re covered with slobber and drool, dazed out eyes eating him up from down there.

“Satoru do we really need a date?” You ask, and he is tilting your chin up, to stroke your cheek, as he leans down.

“You demanded one, needy little brat. My dick gets you that horny, doesn’t it?” You pout, nodding, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, fuck you make him stupidly happy, don’t you?

“The words more than anything, but of course this.” You kitten lick his tip, and he sucks in a breath at that, pulling back at how sensitive he is now.

“Well if you’re a good girl I’ll show you some of what I’ve wanted to do.” He eases you up now, and watches as you nearly fall, and he gives you a smirk. “Can’t even walk from sucking me? Why are you so pathetic, hmm?”

“You make me this way.” You kiss him then, and he tastes himself, your tongue still has his precum on it, making him moan. “You have good self control, I am afraid mine is shit.”

“Oh baby I’ve had to watch you for so long, I’m patient now.” You blink a bit now, lashes casting shadows under your eyes, where he notices you’ve put concealer to hide those circles you have lately. But it’s not like he’ll let you get any sleep, will he? “There’s a box on the kitchen counter, if you’re not too fucked out to make it there.”

“Fuck off, Toru.” You scowl, and he laughs at you as you stomp over to the kitchen now, taking the black box with blue ribbon, opening it, then you gasp. “Oh my, it's so gorgeous… it’s so fancy!”

“Go put it on. But look under it.” You lift the tissue paper, then he watches your face flush, as you lift the black lace. “You’ll wear that under the dress.”

“Yes, sir.” You’re teasing but you’re making his cock hard again, fuck Satoru is just edging himself, but it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy to do that anyway, to tease his tip and play and play until he hurt. Now you’re right here, and you’re looking up at him, a smile lighting up your face, and it stabs him in the chest.

Satoru Gojo doesn’t hate you.

Satoru Gojo never did.

Hate, no…

He’s loved you since he saw you.

Your POV

You never hated Satoru Gojo, did you?

No, quite the opposite.

As you sit next to him that night in this fancy, beautiful little restaurant, cozy and intimate in a red plush booth together, and you look at him as he studies the menu, it’s like something clutches at your heart. He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, with his smooth, perfect skin, those high cheekbones, those pouty lips that are pursed as he thinks of what he wants.

The soft lighting of the restaurant makes his skin shimmer, the intimate glow of the table lighting casting little reflections in the hollows of his cheeks, casting a striking shadow. His hair is freshly brushed back, but just a bit falls in the front of his forehead, making your fingers itch to brush it back now, but he is brushing it back with long, elegant fingers.

He’s in this three piece suit, a dark blue, and you’re in a glittery navy blue dress, that hugs your curves perfectly, as if Satoru had measured you inch for inch. It has a slit that goes daringly up one thigh, revealing a garter that was pink leather with a metal heart. Satoru had rolled his eyes as you had squealed in excitement at the fact he’d gotten you something pink.

“You staring at me?” He says then, in that husky voice so teasing and conceited, his swirling blue eyes locking on yours, making your mouth go dry. You swallow a bit, nodding then, watching his lips turn up on one corner.

“Can’t help it, too gorgeous.” Your voice is soft, but you see just a hint of pink on his cheekbones, before he scoffs.

“Of course I am. Look at you though.” His gaze flickers, and you feel his looks like a caress as they rest on your neck, then to your collarbone, then lower and lower, heat pooling in your tummy. “Surprised we made it out of the house with you in this. This is how I would dress you, like my doll.”

“Your doll, hmm?” You whisper, he lets out a quiet sigh, leaning close and kissing you gently, just a brush of his sweet lips. “Is that freaky talk, Toru?”

“Maybe you’ll see later tonight. You’ll be up all night, better order something good to fill you up before I do.” You’re a mess now, squirming in your seat, thighs rubbing together as you crave friction, crave him. “Want me to order for you?”

“Please? I’m used to like… a winghouse or something.”

“Gotta get used to finer things.”

“You’ll keep me around, hmm?” Your hand rests on his muscled thigh, and he leans closer to you now, you inhale that expensive, tantalizing cologne in your nostrils, making them flare just a bit.

“You’re not going anywhere. Did you think I’d let you go so easy?” He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, your leg over his own as he keeps looking at the menu.

“Do you still hate me, Toru?” You ask, and he looks away then, as if contemplating something. You wonder at times if you’ll ever get in his head.

“I never hated you.” You blink in surprise then, in shock almost, gasping as he then holds up two fingers and three waiters clamor over, all women who are dying for a chance to serve him. “White or red wine?”

“Pink.” You snort as he scowls at you, then sighs, looking over at the wine menu and running a finger down it.

“A bottle of Rose, please.”

“Yay!”

He glares again, and you’re laughing behind your hand. “Then we’ll start with the Duck Pâté en Croûte…”

“Duck!?”

“Shut it, prissy brat. Let the master work here.” You just watch him, as he speaks oddly perfect french. “Also the cake d’alsace to start, then we’ll have filet mignons for the main course, pick whatever side you think is best here.”

“Yes, of course, such a good choice Mr. Gojo!” One of the pretty waitresses says, and he just looks back at you, smiling a bit.

“Dessert we’ll do the creme brulee and chocolate mousse. I think that’s everything we need for the night.” He hands them the menus, and they eagerly bounce off, well two of them, one leans forward to whisper in his ear, and he tenses a bit, before glaring at her. “I tip insanely well especially if you don’t flirt with me while I’m with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry… Mr. Gojo…” She blushes and runs off, and you look at him in surprise, smiling then.

“I’m your girlfriend, hmm?” He rolls his pretty eyes, long snowy lashes fluttering as he sighs.

“I won’t ask you.”

“Oh then maybe I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Then ask.” You both glare now, and then you laugh, caressing his face with your fingers softly. “I’m kidding. ‘Oh of course I’ll date you, Satoru’ there.”

“Didn’t ask.” You nudge him playfully, drooling practically at his smile.

“You’re so handsome when you’re smiling you know.” He pouts again, narrowing his eyes, and you sigh. “No really, I love it.”

“Yeah yeah, simp so hard for me, don’t you.” You roll your eyes at him, as they bring the bottle and appetizers, he pours you a glass himself, tilting the glass just so, before handing it to you.

“Maybe I do simp for you.” You admit, and he’s grinning again, he tries to hide it but it’s of no use, Satoru is having fun, and so are you.

Who would have thought.

His hand comes to cup your face, as he holds a little morsel of that crazy fancy food on a silver fork, and you part your lips, letting him pop it between. You chew then, eyes shutting, moaning a bit. “Fuck that’s yummy.”

“It is yummy.” He murmurs, and you gasp when he has slid a hand up your bare thigh, under the thick white tablecloth, making your body tense with stark desire. Your eyes open to see him studying you, those eyes so damn intense it’s hard to take. “So you tell me something no one knows.”

“You actually wanna get to know me? Because I’m your girlfriend?” You tease, only earning a rough squeeze on your thigh, bruising as he presses you down into that seat, making you so wet you can’t stand it. You want him so damn bad it hurts.

“You’re mine. Yes, you should tell me things now.”

“So demanding.” You scoff, as does he, then you sigh, taking a sip of the sweet Rose, with it’s tart aftertaste tickling your tongue. “Okay, well my parents um… left me when I was young.”

Satoru pauses then, his brows lowering. “Fuck them.”

You smile at that. “Yeah, they left me with my grandparents, who were sweet but we were very low income. I got picked on for having no money, for not having nice things, so I didn’t have many friends.”

“Fuck them too.” He sips his wine, and you raise your glass.

“Cheers to that.” Your glasses click, and fuck it feels good just to speak to him, for once no insane drama looming over you all. “So I ended up working my ass off from a young age, I bought what I could to sort of fit in, then I guess… boys started finding me pretty, so I ended up popular by default towards the end of high school. But I never felt like I fit in.”

“Why the Barbie bimbo aesthetic?”

“Well I never had barbies growing up, I had nothing really. So I sort of idolized her, she could do anything. I should show you my special collection.”

“No thanks.” You stick your tongue out and he smiles softly, hand soft on your skin again. “If you must.”

“I must, I collect all sorts of them, from the fifties and everything. Mmm, so yummy…” He’s putting another bite in your mouth now.

“So you got popular later. And you own that house don’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“I may have looked it up online and saw you on the deed.” You lean back, glaring up at him now, and he shrugs, taking a bite and looking far too sexy doing so. “What, can’t I be curious?”

“How often did you watch me?”

“Just at night, I worried someone would stalk you.”

“Like you!?”

“No, someone terrible who’d hurt you.” You look up at the fancy ceiling with all the hanging chandeliers then.

“No more of that, got it?”

“If you move in.”

“Satoru!”

“It’s for your own good. Hush now.” He’s slipping his hand between your thighs now, where you’re hot and soaking wet, and he moans softly, as your hips rock against your better judgement. “You like it, stop fucking lying. You like me so obsessed with you I can’t think.”

“Fuck off.” It’s true, there’s something mentally wrong with both of you, you lean your head on his shoulder then, clinging to his silky blue tie and crying out when he finds your sensitive clit with a rough finger in little circles.

“I won’t have to as much now that you’re mine.”

“That’s so… toxic… mmm…” He hums just a bit, pulling that finger back and sucking on it like it’s dessert, your mouth positively waters.

“So you had shit parents, and a rough childhood. That kind of explains the overt daddy issues.”

“Oh whatever. You wanted to be called daddy.” You whisper in his ear, nipping the lobe then, enjoying that suck in of his breath.

“Fuck you, brat.”

“Mmm, you should. Edging yourself all damn night.”

“Just wait, fuck you’re impatient.”

Your hand slides up his lap now, over his cock, and he jolts then, as you tease him right back.

You don’t make it for dessert, that is in the to-go boxes now.

Satoru strips you down, the dress slithering off your body as he avidly stares at you, as it falls to a pool around your ankles, onto the floor of his bedroom. Satoru exhales, stepping back and holding your hands, pulling you toward his giant bed now, eyes devouring you in the lingerie. Your breasts are spilling out, and it’s barely covering anything.

Your first instinct is to cover up just a bit, then Satoru is picking you up in his arms, carrying you and hoisting you up on the bed to sit, hands trembling just slightly as they work down your breasts, your waist, your hips. He squeezes your breasts, bending down and licking your nipples through the black lace, your head falls back as it feels so damn good you can’t take it.

Satoru’s free hand slinks across your tummy, it trembles under his touch, until it goes to your throat, cupping you under your chin and looking down at you. “I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you pick. Tie you up, overstimulate you, or I could cause you so much pain, leave you marked everywhere for me. What does my greedy brat want?”

You’re so nervous you’re shaking, as you want it but you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what all it means. “Um… let’s try the pain?”

“You’re cute.” He says softly, tapping your nose, then he leaves for just a few and comes back, with a wood paddle and whips, and you’re even more nervous when you see little nipple clamps and a silver dangling chain that connects them. “Nervous?”

“Y-yeah. I’m new to this sort of thing.”

“Suguru is vanilla huh?”

“I don’t wanna think of that.” Satoru sighs at that.

“You wish it never happened?” He attaches a collar to your throat, it looks like some goth choker Cho would wear with a chain, then he tugs firmly, pulling your breasts out of the cups of the lingerie, running the cold metal on them, making you gasp.

“I only don’t regret the time with both of you, because that was our first time, wasn’t it, Toru? Mmm…” His eyes flicker with emotion then, and you watch him gulp, before he’s easing the clamps, and you’re whimpering. “Ah- ah… Toru…”

“Our first time to me was that night you came to me. Because that’s when I got to do what I really wanted. All by myself, the only way it should be.” His husky voice gets rougher as he twists the clamps, and they’re steadily pinching your nipples now, getting hard between them. “Fuck they look pretty like this. I can’t wait to suck on them after, you’ll be so bruised.”

“Toru do you even use a safe word?” He chuckles, as he places little kisses down your throat, tickling your skin.

“Sure we can, let it be barbie. But you’ll like it, you’ll do so good for me, a perfect girl won’t you?” You nod eagerly, and then he’s flipping you over, letting your legs dangle off the bed, you’re still in your black heels you notice, but he’s down there, taking them off, one by one. “If you can take ten hits I’ll get you off with my mouth, if you can’t you’ll be choking on my cock. Got it?”

“I’m good with either- ow fuck!” He smacks the fuck out of you now, on your right ass cheek with a paddle, making you glare back at him, while he looks hungry, licking his lips.

“You’ll address me better than that. C’mon, baby, y’know what to call me.” He says, caressing that cheek now, it stings and burns.

Satoru’s POV

“Yes, Sir?” You ask tentatively, bracing for another hit, and he smirks behind you, as he watches you bent over.

“Arch that ass back more. There.” He cooes as you press it up, your ass and hips like some perfect heart over his bed. “I’d brace yourself.”

“Shit-ah!” You cry out as he smacks your other cheek, watching it jiggle perfectly as he’s hit you hard, the sound resounding in his quiet room with a loud smack. You’re shivering, head buried. “Was sir not right?”

“No, baby, it wasn’t right. But it’s okay, I’m enjoying this view.” Both of your ass cheeks have red whelps, and he’s stripping down slowly, loosening his tie and his belt buckle as he’s straining against his boxers. “How should you address me baby?”

“D-daddy. Ah!” He smacks you again, this time lower on your cheek, but not quite as hard, and you’re moaning, shifting your hips, he sees those puffy lips of your cunt so perfectly where your thighs have a gap, and he’s sliding his finger between them for just a moment, groaning as you whimper. “Please…”

“Please what, brat? You have six more. You determine how hard they are.” You take a breath, looking back at him with pretty tears in your eyes, making him even harder.

“Please touch me more, Daddy.” He moans at that, at how that name sounds from your lips, images of him making you a mommy fucking killing him. Now he’s envisioning you pregnant, and he’s yanking his shirt off, suddenly too hot.

“If you don’t make a noise for the next two I will. Can you, slutty little girl?” You nod eagerly, bracing yourself again, fuck you’re adorable, aren’t you? “It’ll hurt less if you relax.” He grips your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples in your lower back, and you exhale, softening your stance. “Ready?”

You nod, then he hits you hard, right between your ass cheeks, over your overheating cunt, and he hears you suck in a breath, burying your face, but you don’t make a noise. He’s so proud of you, especially when he smacks you again, right on your thighs, where he knows it will hurt more, but you’re just quietly moaning into his blankets.

“You’re such a good girl. I don’t think you need more hits.” He puts his paddle down then, and caresses your ass cheeks, covered in red marks, but you look back at him again, lust overtaking your gorgeous face.

“I wanna be s’good for you, Daddy.” You whisper, then arch your back out more. “I can take the rest.”

Fuck.

“You can take four more? You sure, brat?”

“I can do it, promise.”

You like it, fuck you like it don’t you? Satoru bends down on his knees now, kissing where he’s marked, his breath merely teasing your cunt, fuck he’s wanted to lick it all night, but he wants you a mess, and you’re becoming one for him. He stands back up, grabbing the whip instead, stepping back and angling it on your right cheek, leaving another welp.

You keep your noises in, but he sees it, the wetness drooling from your cunt. “You’re making a mess, these carpets are expensive.”

“S-sorry, Daddy.” You’re so good, fuck.

“Three more, you ready?” You nod, and he smacks you again, again, then again… and you nearly fall, he has to wrap an arm around you before you collapse, knees knocking. Satoru cups your face gently, eyes searching yours for any sort of pain or fear, but your eyes…

They’re glazed over with desire, dilated.

“You did so good, baby.” He says softly, and your tears fall down your pretty face in streaks, as you sniffle, clinging to him then, slamming your lips on his, nearly knocking him to the floor with the ferocity.

“Please, please, please.” You whisper fervently, Satoru gently places you up in the center of his bed now, leaning over you on his arms, struck by your beauty as you’re sobbing under him.

“I’ll take care of you baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says softly, and watches as you sniffle, as your hips arch up, your ass must be throbbing huh? But you’re clinging to him desperately, then he’s kissing your lips, drinking in the rest of your sweet cries, tasting those salty tears, before he’s spreading your thighs, kissing down your throat, his mouth watering as he thinks of your pussy on his mouth again.

“Toru… need you. Need you.”

Fuck you need him?

Well Satoru needs you, on him, under him, a fucking mess.

Perfect.

Your POV

Satoru’s looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, and your ass is pulsating with brutal pain, but it only enhances your need for him, of how much you crave this man. He’s so sweet now, such a fucking contradiction, as he parts your glistening lips and swipes his tongue up, you damn near cum from just that, thighs shaking as you scream out.

He moans softly against you, his hands shoving your thighs up as his tongue swirls your clit, before he's sucking it into his mouth. You scream out in pleasure, hands entwining in his snowy white hair, as he hums on it and you feel the pleasure shooting through your body, mixed with the pain of the clamps and your stinging ass cheeks.

Satoru laps you up as you cum all over his face, drinking you with an eager tongue, now he is reaching up, tightening the clamps. The pain just makes you wetter as he then pulls on that chain, and it constricts your breath just so, on either side of your throat, licking more and more fervently.  You damn near can't take it, it's too many sensations at once, along with his blue eyes that look so lovingly at you.

You cum harder this time, this orgasm making your hips buck as you gush all over his mouth. Satoru moans, sliding up now and pinching your nipples again, you feel the tears start all over at the pain, and he looks at you so adoringly, so intensely, brushing your tears aside.

“Yeah, does it hurt baby?” You nod, jerky movements as your thighs quiver around his hips, and you feel that hot length on your inner thigh. “Want me to take em off? Gotta ask nicely.”

“Please d-daddy… mouth.” You're reduced to broken, nonsensical statements, yet again. Satoru makes you lose your sense of self, you forget how to move those lips.

“Okay baby. I'll take care of them.” He whispers, pulling the clamps off to reveal bruising nipples, which he tenderly kisses. You gasp, back arching into the hot embrace, jerking back when he sucks one into his mouth, so sore and aching you are crying more. “Mmm… you know how pretty you are crying?”

“Am I, Daddy?”

“You're so pretty. That mascara running down these cheeks… aw look, they're so puffy and red.” He pinches your nipples, and you let out shaky sobs as he cooes over you mockingly. But you're even wetter, hands reaching for his hips, pulling him down.

“Please, inside… me. Please oh please.” You whisper, pleadingly looking up at his pretty face, and his eyes dilate until they're so dark, and he is pulling your hips up as he holds his cock at the base, rubbing on your clit, making your face scrunch up in pleasure as it hits, you cum just when his tip presses in.

Satoru sucks a sore nipple again, eyes watching as you’re crying in pain, before shoving his cock inside you, so many fucking inches snug in your entrance, hitting your cervix on the first damn thrust. He releases your collar now, your cunt tightening around his cock as he slams into you, so deep, so rough, that you're sure he's going to split you in half.

But oh it feels so good, like nothing you’ve ever felt before, as you fall more into Satoru, the man that watches you, that stole pictures, that looked up your damn house. The same man that turned down a pretty waitress right in front of you, that’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the goddamn world, as his cock wrecks your pussy, and he wrecks your fucking mind.

You can't stop screaming, your throat hoarse as he hits that spot so good, that spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head, his thick leaky tip pressing again and again, until he’s flipped you, and you’re on top. You rock your hips, rolling them and resting your hands on his chest, and he’s moaning as he fucks up into you, sucking on your sore nipples, biting them and making tears fall down onto his face.

He’s fucking you so hard, you're bouncing on his cock, those bruised cheeks smacking against his hard thighs as you are slammed down his length, his hands brutal on your hips. Your thighs are sticky with your cum, dripping down to his stomach, mixing with his sweat in precum, sounding so loud and squishing so fucking obscene. Satoru slides his hands up your breasts, pinching them and making you shiver as you struggle to move.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking perfect. All mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, yanking you down then, gripping your ass that’s covered in whelps, as you fall against his chest, your hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both.

“Yours, m’yours Toru.” You say softly, and he gasps then, his eyes fluttering shut, as you kiss him desperately, tongues entwining so fucking sloppy, and he’s steadily thrusting slower, but deeper, impossibly, you think you’ll break from it.

“Wanna be my little doll?” You nod eagerly, having no clue what he means. “Then stay really still, and don’t speak, can you? Let me use you.” You nod again, and Satoru groans, his movements getting erratic as he lifts your hips up and fucks into you, and you scream out, making him smack your cheek just slightly. “Stay still, dolls can’t move don’t you know?”

You get even wetter as you try to stay still, as Satoru cups your face, looking so deeply in your eyes, his cock making your inner walls throb, so fucking sore but you want more, more, more. You stay so quiet, tears still falling as his big hands brutally use your ass to bounce you, and your eyes roll back, as you bite your lip so hard you break the skin.

“That’s it, good girl. Good girl, my little doll. Just mine.” He cups your face then, flipping you, shoving your thighs up so high you’re going to be so sore, the stretch delicious as he presses you down with his weight. “I’m gonna fill my pretty doll up, that’s what you’re good for, cumming in, hmm?”

You don’t answer, and he grins, shoving his cock back in, holding your thighs down as he cups your face, eyes drinking you in as you’re sobbing at how good it feels, your nipples against his chest, his body dripping with sweat, your ass scraping against the blankets. He’s hitting that spot inside you, the one only he can hit, making you scream against your will.

“Sorry, sorry…” You whisper, and he huffs then, shaking his head, gulping as he grips your face so goddamn tight, squeezing your fucking skull.

“You’re mine, all mine. Aren’t you?” You nod eagerly, and he moans, and you can feel him thicken and throb, as he presses in so deep it hurts, and you’re shaking everywhere as you struggle to stay on this Earth, as Satoru becomes your Earth, your universe, your everything.

“Y-yours, all yours. Yours.” He moans then, kissing you before he’s coming deep inside you, your body milking him, making him pulse out everything he’s got, and he moans so loud, his cheeks flushing.

“Take all this cum, wanna get you pregnant baby. Yeah?”

“Yes, please… please.” You’re gripping him so tightly, cupping his face as he is, as he pumps you so goddamn full, filling you everywhere with those hot sticky ropes of cum, until you’re both trembling messes, kissing desperate, messy, sloppy.

And when he’s done,  his cock still deep, his eyes closed for just a moment before he blinks and looks at you, caressing your hair and looking at you like that? When you’re sobbing into his neck, feeling so empty and so full at the same time. “It’s okay baby, I got you. You did so good, you know that?”

“Satoru…” You’re huffing, your cheeks reddened, your eyes watery, as he eases your legs down, still nestled snug in your cunt, aftershocks making you both gasp, both whine.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He kisses your forehead, but you shake your head then, for once all this drama of Suguru, of everything was shoved back, and only one thing was completely clear.

“Satoru… I… I love you.” You whisper then, between your tears, a mumble, and Satoru Gojo pulls up, resting on his hands over you, his blue eyes wide.

Shit…

ao3 chap: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/151141063

A/N: Stalking isn't cool, Gojo is hella toxic... but it's a yandere story you knew this lol.

Chapter 8

[cryobabyy]

Cooper Adams x Fem!Reader

PART(2/5)

He was peculiarly clean— too clean to be at a hardware store past midnight. No dirt on his jeans, or janitor's name patch, or construction vest. He smelt like most men— Irish spring, sandalwood, musk, bergamot, etc. In daylight hours, you wouldn't have thought anything about his tight and fawning smile, the gallon of industrial cleaning solution, and the seven yards of vinyl tarp he slides across the counter at the end of the month. He always smiles when he pays. You smile back despite your intuition advising against it. Something about the interaction feels cold. God, you sound like your fucking father.

OR

You work the graveyard shift at a hardware store with extended hours to put you through pre-med. You meet a DILF who is definitely not The Butcher.

A pack of deer used to linger in your backyard, towards the thicket of rural Pennsylvania forest behind your childhood home. The biggest of them, a buck with massive velvety antlers and black glossy eyes, was the least afraid of you. You left a paper plate of goldfish and a pail of water out for him every afternoon, hoping that one day he’d trust you enough to eat from your palm. After weeks of looking after the wild animal, he began to inch closer and closer to you. You could make out the finer details; white eyelashes, wet snout, twitching ears. The last time you saw him was the day your father caught you with an outstretched palm full of crackers. The sound of your name cracking through the air like a whip was enough to send the startled animal back towards the brush.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?! What kind of diseases they carry?! Warts, ticks, plague, mad cow disease-”

“But they’re deer, Daddy. Not cows.”

“-And quit fuckin’ feedin’ it! You keep feedin’ it like that and he’ll come back and stick those antlers right through your chest once you stop givin’ him food. You’ll be sorry you ever gave that beast any attention! You understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Come play in the front yard where I can see you.”

It wasn’t long until he began to suspect that somewhere, behind the dense line of trees, the deer was watching the two of you, waiting to spear his mighty antlers through your thin chests.

In the span of a couple of months, the lush green trees had soured to a dull brown, thick summer air had turned thin, and you learned a lot more about Cooper Adams than necessary. His supply runs became more frequent, and with every purchase came a morsel of information about his homely little life that you never asked for. He works graveyard hours at the firehouse Monday through Saturday, his wife hates it, and he’s building her a gardening shed to get on her good side. Above all else, Cooper Adams was fucking bored- so bored that your one-minute interactions stretched into five and eventually ten. 

He played football in college. His favorite band is Smashing Pumpkins. He takes his coffee black. He divulged details freely and without hesitation. The itch in the back of your mind wondered how much of it was true. 

It didn’t matter though. Your skepticism shriveled up every time he came walking in a quarter past 1am; nonchalant, neighborly, and hot. His purchases stay consistent. Tarp, staples, cleaner, light bulbs, and sometimes nails. He sets it down on the counter with a smile. 

“You again?” He cocks his head playfully.

“In the flesh.”

“Anything exciting happening tonight?”

“Nope. You?”

“Depends on how exciting you think paperwork is. I’m only fighting fires five percent of the time. The other ninety-five percent is paperwork and cats stuck in trees.” Cooper puts his big hands flat on the counter and leans forward, his wedding band clinking against the wood. You meet his gaze, the crinkle of his crow’s feet reminding you of his age. 

Your father’s mental instability held you back in more ways than one. You put off school to take care of him in his last years, you didn’t get out much, let alone have time to date. Despite your inexperience, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Cooper Adams– a man with a wife, kids, and a mortgage– was lightly flirting with you. Even worse- you didn’t hate it. It was a relief to be spoken to like a friendly acquaintance and not like the girl who grew up in the hoarder house at the dead end of Bleaker Ave. The girl whose dad sealed up his CO2 detectors and cranked his gas stove because his sickness convinced him it was the only way to prevent the government from reading his mind. 

Cooper didn’t seem to be aware of the rot in you that others could sense. If he was, he didn’t care.

“Yeah, well I’m sure your kids still think you’re a saint. Your wife too.” You assure him. He pauses, holding you prisoner with eye contact. An earnest smile slowly creeps on his face.

“Thank you. That’s a very sweet thing to say.”

Your face felt hot all of a sudden. You take the opportunity to scan his items, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing the conversation.

“Pre-med, huh?” He nods to your textbook amongst the pile of your stuff on the back counter. “Smart girl. Don’t tell me– Pediatrics? Family medicine? Am I close?” 

3 months of acquaintanceship and you never once revealed anything overtly personal to Cooper. Your father ingrained rigid rules for interacting with strangers; No last names, no addresses, no phone numbers, and everyone has bad intentions until proven otherwise. He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, flipping it open to hand you his card. You catch a glimpse of the picture of his kids, and before you can pay mind to your own paranoia, you’re answering him.

“Psychiatry, actually. I want to be a psychiatrist.”

“Shit. Wow. That’s…That’s awesome. I wouldn’t have guessed-”

You cut him off, the words coming up like vomit.

“My dad, uh, he struggled a lot. I took care of him until the end, so It kinda felt right, Y’know?”

Feeling relieved, nauseous, and stupid, you quickly run his card. The printer loudly spits out the receipt. You try to pin down what possessed you to overshare so willingly, but come to no conclusion. Maybe it was his face, soft eyes, and a masculine jaw. The disarming affectation of a competent father, someone trustworthy and inherently good. Or was he truly all those things? You slide his receipt and card towards him, eyes darting around awkwardly, desperate to avoid direct contact.

“Sorry. That might have been too much too soon.” Suddenly, warmth envelopes your fingers. You look down to see Cooper’s hand over yours, and then up to see a softened expression.

“I went through something similar with my mother. You don’t have to be sorry.” He says quietly, offering a reassuring nod. When he slides his receipt and card out from under your hand, you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “It takes a certain kind of person to choose to be a solution to a problem they’ve been victimized by. The world needs more people like you.”

A couple of months ago, you were sure Cooper’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Now, thought you could see something lurking behind them– you weren’t sure what, but it made your pulse thrum uncomfortably against your neck. 

“But sure, I’m the saint for saving cats from trees and building my wife a shed so she doesn’t hate me. That checks out.” He chuckles, shaking his head incredulously. You stand there watching him throw his purchases back into the cart, blindsided by the sincerity of the fleeting moment.

“You stay safe, alright? Don’t talk to too many strangers.” He points to you with a half-serious look, snapping you out of your daze. 

“Same goes for you.”

He stops halfway out the automatic doors to mutter a curse under his breath, rummaging through his windbreaker pocket to retrieve something.

“Almost forgot, I got you a little something- Think Fast!” He tosses it to you, and you reflexively catch it.

You huff out a shocked laugh when you realize it’s a small container of mace.

“Cooper, you can’t be fucking serious.” You look up to see his satisfied smile.

“Afraid I am. Sorry, but it freaks me out that you’re still here by yourself so late when there’s a maniac on the loose out there. It’s the dad in me.” He shrugs.

You don't watch the news often, but the mention of a maniac rings a bell. You've heard whispers of scattered remains around campus and seen a headline or two.

“What are they calling him now?”

“The Butcher.”

You scoff, ignoring the fear pooling in your stomach.

“Oh, lovely. This will totally stop him from butchering me. Thanks.” 

He gives you a wink and a thumbs-up before disappearing into the parking lot. You stare at the small blue container of mace in your palm, realizing there's something written in permanent marker on the side. 

Cooper Adams

215-238-6667

Just in case

AO3

Previous chapter

AN: Hi, hope youre enjoying my unnecessary character study fic. The next chapter will have explicit content and minor violence. Just a forewarning. If you see grammar, spelling, or syntax errors no you didn't. I proofread this with 4am eyes, will proofread again in the morning lol. Enjoy, freaks! <3

[magniloquent-raven]

I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

**

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Impossible

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,117 Request: @smoothdogsgir reader finds out she’s pregnant after Dean’s run in with the Hellhounds, She stays with Bobby and is there when he comes back 4 months later, both getting a nice surprise.

Read on AO3

Dean had been up front with you after he made his deal. You’d been seeing him for six months at the time, and he wanted to give you an out. You fought all weekend about it. He wanted you to go and live your life. You wanted to spend his last year with him.

You’d won. 

As the clock ticked closer and closer to the deadline, your stomach sank. You knew this was coming, but how did you prepare for something like that? The answer was simple. You didn’t.

Having been sick, you stayed back while the boys went on a last ditch effort to save Dean’s soul. You argued that you needed to be there, you had to be there. He’d kissed you deeply, tears in his eyes, and told you he loved you. Then, he’d walked out the front door. The second you heard the roar of the Impala, you fell to the ground, sobbing.

When you’d heard the door open, you had no idea how much time had passed since he’d left. You had been in a trance. Sam walked in, bloody, and crying. You lost it all over again, clinging to him. He’d lost a brother, and you felt as if you’d lost your soul mate.

At first, neither of you spoke all that much. It was hard on both of you. Finally, it was you who broke. You’d realized you’d missed a couple periods, and went to get a pregnancy test. Figuring it was all the stress the three of you had been under. Which would also explain you not even noticing.

Two weeks to the day of Dean’s soul being dragged off by hellhounds, you took the pregnancy test. You took it as soon as you woke up, still sleepy. You didn’t have to wait the three minutes. The positive came right away. You were pregnant. With Dean’s baby. Dean, who’s soul now belonged to hell. Who would be tortured, and would never know of his unborn child.

Covering your mouth, you sobbed, your other hand going to your stomach. It felt like you lost him all over again, only now you would have a reminder for the rest of your life. You’d look into a child’s eyes, and think of that heartbreaking good bye. How would you explain that to your child? That their father wasn’t there, because of a deal he made.

You walked out of the bathroom looking pale, wet streaks down your face. If Sam hadn’t known better, he would have thought you were a ghost. “I’m pregnant, Sammy.” You breathed, not looking up. Saying them out loud brought on another bought of tears.

Once you’d accepted that you were pregnant, you quit hunting. However, you weren’t comfortable enough (or financially stable enough) to go out on your own. So, you packed up your little car, hugged Sammy good bye, and drove to Bobby’s. You had called him and explained everything, sobbing over the phone. Without a hesitation, he opened his home to you.

It was an adjustment for both of you, but after some time, things went smoothly. You started helping out with research as much as you could, helping clean, and running errands for him. In return, he helped you clean out a spare room, and revamp it into a nursery. He’d become like an Uncle to you, and you were beyond thankful to him.

Before you knew it, you were six months pregnant. You’d been a bit late on getting into the ultrasound to find out what you were having- you should have gone the month before, so you were excited to reveal to Bobby what you were having. Pulling up to the front of the house, you grabbed your purse, and the ultrasound pictures, before sliding out of the car.

“Bobby!” You called out as you opened the front door, eyes on the pictures. “So, you owe me ten bucks. I’m having a girl!” You laughed. Looking up, you screamed and dropped everything. Your eyes went wide. “BOBBY!”

Dean stared at you, his eyes going to your rounded stomach. “Baby?” He breathed.

Bobby rushed out and sighed. “Idjit. I told you to stay back.”

“You didn’t tell me she was staying here.” Dean snapped.

“Am I going insane here? Because…that can’t be Dean.” You pointed at Dean.

“I’ll explain in a minute, let me get these for you.” Bobby said, crouching to get the pictures and your purse. “Here.” He handed them to you. “Come on, I’ll get you a glass of juice.”

Nodding, you followed Bobby, looked at Dean as you passed. He looked like your Dean, but that was impossible.

“That’s Dean?” You asked, tearing up. Bobby nodded. “How? He’s been dead for four months!”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t even know. Something pulled me from hell.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking your juice. Your feet were up on another chair, your hand resting on your stomach. “I need to process this. I’m going to lay down.” You sighed, putting your feet down and getting up.

The two men watched you go, and it was Bobby who spoke up first. “She’s six months pregnant. Baby’s yours.” He said quietly. “She was barely holding it together when she got here. Finally, as time went by, and we started working on the nursery, her mood seemed to improve. She still cries herself to sleep some nights, but not like before.”

“She said she’s having a girl.” Dean told him.

“Go on, ya idjit. Go comfort her.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” He gave him a small smile before heading upstairs.

You were laying on your side when you heard your door open. Without looking, you knew it was Dean. “I’m sorry I walked out, Dean. It’s just a hard thing to process.” You said quietly.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m back from the dead, that would be a lot for anyone.” He said as he quietly closed the door. You heard his boots hit the floor as he took them off, smiling slightly to yourself. “My first thought was getting to you. I figured the best place to start was Bobby’s. If anyone knew where to find you, it’d be him.” Feeling the bed dip, you closed your eyes. “I didn’t think I’d come here, find you, and get the shocking surprise that we’re having a little girl.” The emotion was clear in his voice. He laid behind you, his face in your neck, his arm around your waist, and his hand on your stomach.

Your fingers laced with his moments before she kicked. “I think she knows Daddy’s home.” You said quietly.

You felt  him smile. “Daddy’s home, and he’s not going anywhere.”

[gallonofgoldfish]

Whiskey and Winning

It's easy to get distracted at the rodeo. At least, it should be, under the lights and in the crowded stands, but you've only got one thing on your mind. Champion bronco rider Abby Anderson could say the same.

Pairing: cowpoke!abby x reader (sort of)

Content: established relationship, fluff, poor attempts at depicting the rodeo, reader is barely described, i swear im not slut shaming i just think the term buckle bunny is funny, i don't think any warnings apply

A/N: wrote this last night in a haze. i hardly know anything about tlou and rodeos actually make me really sad but yk. the parasites. might make another part to this at some point. didn't tell my friends i was posting this so if you guys see this hello i love you thank you for hyping me up <3. also friendly reminder fuck neil druckmann and do not give that zionist your money!!!

WC: 1080

The blare of the announcer’s voice from the overhead speakers is deafening, but you haven’t heard a word he’s said. The lights are blinding, but you won’t squint against their glare. The stadium is packed full—roaring with the drunken cheers of thousands of strangers, glittering with the flash of every camera and belt buckle and rhinestone-studded hat suffocating in the stands—but it may as well be empty save for the two of you.

The world is quiet. Eerily so, though maybe the ringing in your ears is playing a part in that. It’s narrow. It’s tinged by the black splotches at the edge of your vision and strained by the clench of your jaw.

The world is the cowpoke settling onto the bare back of the bronc in the chute only a few feet away from you. It’s the wide-brimmed ten-gallon pressed firmly down over the dirty blonde braid hanging between her shoulders. The collared white shirt stretching over her back, quilted with Marlboro patches and brand logos. The crimson bandana you’d had in your hair an hour earlier, resting around her neck.

The world is Abby Anderson, from the freckles strewn over her scarred, sunburned face to the cold focus in her steely blue eyes that evaporates when her gaze settles on you. Ice turns to the warmth of Jack Daniel’s, neat in its absence. To the gray of campfire smoke winding into the white-speckled sky, burning away the chill in the air. Warding off the spectators and the clamor and the awful, twisting feeling of waiting.

This is what it’s about, right?

The rush. The thrill.

The hitch in the air as her hand tightens on the rigging one last time. 

A grin splits her features.

She winks.

And then she’s gone. The gate swings open and the bucking mare takes off with her on its back and the world bursts back into a mess of color and noise. Eight seconds.

You’re yelling—you’re not sure what you’re yelling, but it’s loud enough to leave your throat raw and earn some sideways looks from the flock of buckle bunnies pressed up against the railing alongside you. 

Seven.

Part of Pour Some Sugar on Me blasts from the staticky speakers, and Abby appears on the jumbotrons in perfect detail. 

Six.

The bay mare thrashes into the air, but Abby’s faster, stronger, the muscles in her arms pushing against the seams of her shirt as she holds her free hand held up in the air. 

Five.

The snarling wolves engraved on her belt buckle flash under the lights. 

Four.

Every kick whips the fringe along the edges of her shotgun chaps, but the timer ticks down anyway. 

Three.

She holds on, anyway.

A closer shot brings her face into focus: grit teeth, a furrowed brow, a muscle ticking along the edge of her jaw. 

Two.

Sweat runs down the side of her features and into the scar on her cheek beneath the shadow of her hat’s brim. 

She’s in the middle of the arena now, gritty sand flying up around her. 

One?

If you could tear your eyes off of her, you’d check the time to make sure you’re counting right.

The music stops. An airhorn sounds. She’s still the rider—some distant, mythical thing up on a screen and down in the dirt.

Abby’s mouth opens in a shout when the second set of floodlights kick in, raising her head only to lock eyes with the pair of wranglers who burst out of the chutes after her to rope the bronc back in. She rocks forward with the mare’s motion one more time before swinging herself off its back and bailing into the sand. 

You finally get a breath out, resting your head against your forearm on the railing and heaving a sigh.

The announcer’s words retreat to the back of your thoughts again, but not before you catch her score. 95.

Ninety–fucking–five. The day’s record.

Just as the stadium begins to die down, the strangers beside you erupt into another round of cheers. Abby’s on her feet again, dusting herself off and sweeping her hat off of her head to shake out the loose strands of hair framing her face. And she’s walking. Jogging. Full-on running, back towards the chutes.

Or maybe not. 

She vaults the rickety fencing at the edge of the ring like she’s been practicing and hauls herself up into the stands. You can’t bite back your smile at the sight of her, shoulders heaving, beaming, alive. The crooks of her boots expertly find the backs of the plastic stadium seats between spectators’ shoulders. As she makes her way over, the strangers along the railing surge towards her, arms outstretched over the section’s edge. 

Abby doesn’t even see them; her stare never leaves yours except to glance at the railing before stepping up on the platform and hooking an arm through the top metal rung. 

She’s real again then—the world in flannel and denim and muddy boots, inches away.

Abby. Your Abby.

You’re breathing it in. Smoke from the night before. Pine and sweat.

Then, you’re tasting it. Whiskey and winning.

Her hat settles atop your head. Calloused, resin-stuck fingers thread through your hair at the back of your neck and reel you in. Your lips are on hers—or maybe it’s the other way around—and you laugh against each other.

Heat creeps into your cheeks long before you pull away.

“You shouldn’t be up here,” you scold, but your smile chases off any thread of sternness your voice might’ve held.

“Agree to disagree.” She wipes her forehead on her sleeve and huffs, one brow arched. The rosy blush in her features lingers even when the sweat is gone. 

The screens over her shoulder change to show two familiar shapes. 

“We’re on the jumbotron,” you say. 

Abby doesn’t bother looking back. Just laughs “Good,” then kisses you again. This one is quicker, lighter, but your stomach flutters all the same.

“Go.” You squeeze her arm. “I’m sure you’re gettin’ somethin’ good for a ride like that.”

She scoffs. “I do this for no damn awards,” she drawls.

“Can’t all be adrenaline,” you murmur, tugging at her bandana.

That sly, smoky look creeps across her features again as the hat lifts from your head and sinks back down onto hers.. The corner of her mouth tugs upward. Her eyes dart over your face. Stepping down, she leaves you two more words and a pounding in your chest:

“It ain’t.”

[prettybuck]

Can I ask for "I'm just so afraid." For buddietommy if it inspires anything pls and thanks 🫶🏼

Thank you for the prompt! I changed the wording up a bit, but I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

send me a buddie/bucktommy/buddietommy prompt

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"You love him."

In the space of a single second, and with three simple words, it feels like Buck's entire world crashes at his feet. The dish he's washing slips from his hands, clattering to the bottom of the sink as his blood runs cold. Gone is the levity that settled over his apartment from the moment Eddie walked through the door with two six packs and a wide grin.

He thought the dinner went well. Jokes were cracked, old stories were retold, and times were reminisced upon. Now, with Eddie out on the balcony talking to Chris on the phone and the weight of Tommy's eyes on him, Buck's mind spins with what could have given him away. There's nothing he did differently, as far as he can remember, but maybe that's the problem.

"Evan, hey."

Tommy is across the room in seconds, the warmth of his hand seeping through Buck's shirt as it settles over his back. He doesn't deserve the touch, the comfort, but he can't bring himself to refuse it either.

"Don't," he manages, bracing his trembling hands on either side of the sink.

"It's okay," Tommy says quietly, rubbing his back.

Buck swallows hard against the lump rising in his throat and the burn of tears in his eyes, but it does nothing to help.

"No, it's not," he says, shaking his head. "It's not."

"Look at me."

Tommy's hand finds his chin, giving him little choice but to turn his head. Those eyes he knows so well by now are filled with understanding that he hasn't earned by any means.

"Do you love me?"

The question catches him off guard, not because he doesn't know the answer but because it's only been a handful of months since their first kiss in this very kitchen. No one is supposed to ask that question, because no one in their right mind falls in love that quickly.

Then again, Buck's never done anything right. Why start now?

"Yes," he says, his voice barely above a whisper because he's already dug his grave and he might as well keep going at it.

But Tommy doesn't look upset by it. The corner of his mouth ticks up just slightly, and there's that sparkle in his eye that appears on rare occasions. Mostly when Buck is rambling on and on about whatever topic has caught his attention.

"And you love him?"

A tear slips down his cheek, and all he can do is nod.

And as if he was waiting for the perfect moment, the balcony door opens at that very moment and Eddie steps back inside with a wide grin on his face. Buck's heart aches at the sight, as he and Tommy both turn their heads to look. Weeks went by without a smile from Eddie, but Chris is opening up again and so is Eddie, in so many ways. And Buck is so proud of him for it, and he's absolutely terrified of stealing away that newfound lightness he sees in his best friend.

"Chris says hi," Eddie says lightly, carefully shutting the door behind him without quite looking at them yet. "He's been going on about this new game, can't wait to play it with–"

He cuts off just as his eyes fall on them, flitting from Buck to Tommy and back, his smile fading.

"What's going on?"

Buck clears his throat, shrugging off Tommy's hand and turning back to the sink.

"Nothing," he says dismissively, wiping the tears from his cheeks before he picks up the dish he dropped.

"Buck," Eddie says at the same time Tommy murmurs, "Evan."

"It's nothing," Buck repeats, scrubbing furiously at the plate.

He has no doubt that there's some kind of silent exchange of looks behind his back, but he tries not to think about it. He can still salvage this night, and maybe even his relationship with Tommy. Eddie doesn't know a thing, so nothing at all has to change. All he has to do is get past it.

It's nothing he hasn't done before.

"Listen to me," Tommy says, leaning against the counter with an unwavering stare fixed on the side of his head. "There's nothing wrong with anything you just said, okay?"

Buck can't help but scoff, placing the plate on his drying rack with more force than necessary and nearly knocking the entire thing off of the counter.

"Can someone clue me in?" Eddie asks, every bit as confused as he is worried.

"No," Buck says forcefully, shooting Tommy a warning look that is answered with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

He feels cornered, and there's nothing that he wants to do more than flee the scene. But his apartment is entirely too small for that, and he finds himself resenting the open floor plan that Ali talked him into all those years ago.

"You have nothing to be afraid of."

"Yes I do," Buck says, letting out a humorless laugh. "I have everything to be afraid of, so just... forget it, okay? Please?"

Tommy catches his arm before he can reach for another plate, and he's strong enough to resist Buck's effort to pull away. He guides Buck to face him, both hands cupping his cheeks.

"Trust me, baby," he says, warm and soothing. "I wouldn't lie to you. Not about anything but especially about this, okay?"

Buck's eyes flutter closed for just a moment, his faith in Tommy battling with the fear that's sinking deep claws into him.

Then he looks to Eddie.

Eddie, who has spent months finding himself and who came out the other side more settled in his skin than Buck has ever seen him. Eddie, who probably deserves better than Buck could ever give him. Eddie, who he loves so damn much it that sometimes it feels like it might destroy him.

It still could.

"Can I?" Eddie asks warily, gesturing to the distance between them.

Something about it hurts, because Eddie's never asked before. Half-convinced he's already fucked this up, Buck can only bring himself to nod. Slowly, as if approaching a spooked animal, Eddie rounds the kitchen island and stops just short of him and Tommy.

"You can tell me anything, Buck. You know that."

Shaking his head, Buck steps out of Tommy's arms and scrubs his hands over his stinging eyes.

"Not this."

"Yes this," Eddie counters, his voice sounding even closer now.

"I can't," Buck says helplessly, dropping his hands to look between them.

Tommy, who seems so unsurprised and so okay with this in a way Buck can't quite wrap his mind around. He admitted to being in love with another man in the same that he confessed his love to his boyfriend. Anyone else would be running for the hills right now, but Tommy is still there, for reasons beyond his comprehension.

Eddie, who has that familiar look in his eyes like he wants to take Buck in his arms and shake sense into him every bit as much as he wants to hold him close. There's no tension in his shoulders or unease in his gaze. He stares with open worry and at least a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Talk to me," Eddie says quietly, his arm lifting and his hand settling in that spot on Buck's shoulder.

As if he gravitates there, it's almost always where he lands. Just close enough for his thumb to brush Buck's collarbone in a touch that never fails to soothe him.

"I'm so afraid," Buck says, a hitch in his voice that betrays the depths of the fear he feels.

"Of what?" Eddie asks gently, tipping his head to the side, those warm, dark eyes wide and imploring.

"I'll ruin everything."

"What if you don't?" Tommy speaks up, stepping closer to them both. "What if you get everything you want?"

Buck can only blink, because how can that be possible? It's him they're talking about. He doesn't get to have any sort of happiness that lasts. He never has, not even when he was a kid. He's gotten so used to fucking things up and letting go of what he wants most, that the mere idea of getting to have this is something that never truly occurred to him.

"Stay with us, sweetheart."

He doesn't realize his mind has drifted until Eddie's voice brings him back. Buck's eyes snap to him as he tries to wrap his mind around what he just heard.

"Talk to me," Eddie repeats, nodding his head as if to confirm that yes, Buck heard exactly what he thought he did.

"I love you."

It's the easiest confession he's ever made, and yet the hardest three words he's ever spoken all at once. Eddie's eyes soften even more, if possible, and a smile pulls at his lips. A beautiful, bright, unrestrained smile that Buck will never, ever get tired of seeing. And... he put it there. Didn't he?

"Was that so hard?" Eddie says, a note of teasing in his voice.

Buck all but sobs out a laugh, tipping his head to the ceiling as relief sweeps over him and nearly brings him to his knees.

"Yes," he says honestly.

Eddie sighs, reaching up to brush a soft touch over his cheek.

"I know," he says, his eyes dropping to Buck's lips. "But the world isn't ending, and you didn't ruin anything."

"I didn't?"

Eddie shakes his head, his fingers slipping into Buck's hair as he steps in close.

"Not even close."

The words are all but breathed against his lips, and then Eddie is kissing him. It's tender and featherlight, and it's absolutely perfect. His eyes flutter open as Eddie draws away, just in time to see him glance at Tommy. Buck can't help how his heart drops, and he's almost afraid to look at his boyfriend too. But there's nothing but satisfaction in his gaze when he meets his eyes.

"You were right, Tommy," he says, pitching his voice differently as he sidles up close to them. "However should I thank you, Tommy?"

Eddie huffs out a laugh as Tommy's arm slides around Buck's waist, bringing them all closer than they've ever been.

Buck never wants it to end.

"This is... okay?" he asks warily.

"Evan, what did I say?" Tommy says, his other hand lifting to take hold of his chin in a gentle grip. "There's nothing wrong with wanting both of us, okay? I promise, you aren't the only one feeling it."

Buck's eyes grow slightly wider his eyes darting to Eddie.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Buck," Eddie says, a note of amusement in his voice. "What, I haven't been dropping enough hints?"

It only occurs to him then, that Eddie might have been doing exactly that. There's over a dozen instances in the last month alone that he can recall, and it leaves him open-mouthed and shocked.

"And you?" he asks, his attention shifting to Tommy.

"I love you," Tommy says easily, and without a beat of hesitation. "I don't feel the same about Eddie yet and, if I'm reading the room right, he doesn't either. But that being said, I can see myself getting there one day."

Eddie hums his agreement, his eyes dropping to absolutely one hundred percent check Tommy out. Slowly and salaciously, with clear want in his eyes that's returned a thousandfold in Tommy's.

"How did I not see this?" Buck blurts out, unable to help himself.

"Because you were too busy making yourself miserable over all that love you have to give, and you believe that you don't deserve to have exactly what you want," Eddie says, turning back to him. "Not that I can throw stones. A few months ago, I would've been running for the hills before I let myself have this."

Buck nods, because he knows it's true, about both of them.

"You do deserve this, by the way," Tommy says, and it's impossible to know exactly who he's talking to.

Not that it really matters.

"We're really doing this?" Buck asks, almost tempted to pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming.

"I think so, if that's what you want." Eddie says.

He lets himself think about it, even if his immediate reaction is fuck yes.

"Will you call me 'sweetheart' again?" he asks.

Eddie grins and Tommy laughs, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

"Anytime you want."

"All the time," Tommy says, his voice serious even as his eyes crinkle happily. "I'm just warning you, he's going to want it all the time."

Buck hums, leaning in to brush a kiss over Tommy's lips as he daringly grabs a handful of his ass, feeling more like himself now that everything is out in the open and he hasn't burned his entire world down.

"Not the only thing I want all the time," he says in a low voice.

"And this is why I need back-up," Tommy says, tapping his cheek lightly. "You're insatiable."

Buck smirks, looking to Eddie who is watching them with poorly hidden hunger in his eyes.

"You sure you're up for it, Diaz?" he asks, suddenly recalling another evening years ago, when he sauntered up to Eddie and challenged him with a hand on his own belt.

In hindsight, this really was a long time coming.

Eddie doesn't say anything, instead grabbing a fistful of his shirt as he draws him into a far less chaste kiss. It's all consuming, stealing away his breath and his bravado all at once, leaving him dizzy and panting for more by the time Eddie pulls away.

"I guess we'll see," he says, his voice cocky in a way that has Buck fighting his own temptation to jump him right there.

"Guess we will," Buck says with a grin, leaning into Tommy's chest as his hand slips into Eddie's.

And for once, he thinks he might just get to have everything he wants.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

HOW COME?

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you go to the Joke shop and take a look around, not realising one of the owners watching you the whole time Warnings: none?

the shop was filled with kids and their parents, looking at everything that piled the shelves, kids wanting to buy everything and the parents shaking their heads at them. you managed to squeeze through and get some room to breath

they'd only been open for a week and it was this packed, it was an understatement to call this shop a hit.

the fluorescent colours were blinding you as you turned to see a boy, his face turning green with his mum by his side.

you looked around, smiling at every item you see. not knowing you were being watched from the second story of the shop.

you always knew the twins were gonna open a joke shop, but now that you're in it, reality hit you, they had really made their dreams come true. and they were successful.

you were friends of theirs, sort of- you weren't in their group but you three definitely talked quite a bit. if there was a project for potions- they would ask for your help and if you were paired up in transfiguration they would do their part.

you made your way over to the area that was glowing with pink and saw a large stand in the shape of flowers, glowing pink and creating little heart bubbles, it made you smile.

you picked up one of the bottles and read the label. you shook your head with a slight laugh as you read love potion in a pretty font.

"I'll give you a discount for that if you want" you heard his voice from behind you

you turned to see Fred with a smile on his face

"but, then again, it would be a useless purchase" he smirked at you, stepping closer, looking down at you

"how come? do they not work?" you asked curiously

"oh they work perfectly, but you're not gonna need it" he shook his head ammused

"and why is that?" you questioned, tilting your head

truth be told, you always had feelings for the boy, he ticked all your boxes. funny, loyal, tall, confident, passionate and witty.

but he was just so popular and almost every girl you know was swoon over him

"why try to use something when it's already worked without it?" he chuckled.

Fred would be an idiot to deny his feelings for you. he never would've told you this in Hogwarts, he never would've been this straight forward with you about this before, because even THE popular Fred Weasley was self-conscious sometimes.

he sometimes just looked at you and felt as though he wasn't enough, that he couldn't give you what you deserved

but now he was a successful business man, making big bucks. when he saw you enter the shop 10 minutes ago, he knew what he had to do, he knew he could give you anything your heart desired, if you'll have him

"how so? last time i checked I've had no guy chase after me" you laughed, putting the bottle down beside you on the flower stand.

you raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response

"who knows, maybe he hasn't been around you for a while, maybe he was waiting for you to come to him" he shrugged confidently.

you knew what he meant, he never failed to make flirtatious comments, so you brushed it off, even though the butterflies made their way to your stomach.

"and who might this young man be? I should probably go find him, I wouldn't want to keep him waiting" you smiled coyly

"I can't remember his name, but I can describe him for you, maybe tell you were he is" he smirked, leaning down

"do tell" you leaned in too, eager to continue and get to the point

"well I heard he has red hair, he's pretty tall too, I heard he's 6'3. he's pretty handsome too, I think you'll like him, he comes from a pretty big family, and I'm pretty sure I see him in the shop everyday" he informed you cheekily

"wow, I never knew George felt that way about me, I should probably go find him" you snickered, looking at his annoyed face. you were only teasing.

"George? that doesn't seem to ring a bell, I'm pretty sure his name started with an F" he rubbed his chin, looking deep in fake thought

"wow" you gasped "you're not implying what I think you are, are you Fred?" you gasp in faux shock

"Fred! that's his name, he sounds dreamy, doesn't he?" he clicked his fingers

"you should see him in person" you chuckled, his smirk dropped and instead, a small smile made it's way onto his lips

"maybe you should go and ask him out, I heard his favourite place is the three broomsticks" he replied joyfully

you hummed, thinking for a second "nah, I'll let him ask me since he's so in love with me"

"I don't know, he might be nervous" he tilted his head

"then you should go tell him he has nothing to be nervous about" you leaned in and whispered to him, as if it was a secret. he smiled and looked at the ground, his tongue running along his upper teeth, tapping the wood of the floor with his boot

"will do" he answered, a sweet grin on his face

"you stay right here, I think I just saw him" he pat your shoulder, stepping away from you before coming back a few seconds later

"hello there" he said happily

"hello Fred, fancy seeing you here!" you beamed

"I know, I thought I'd pop in and see how successful the shop is" he looked around, motioning to all the chaos, making you shake your head in amusement

"it's incredible isn't it? I must say I'm very proud of the two" your comment made him blush slightly, and you could tell it caught him a bit off guard

"so, I don't know if you know this but some handsome young bloke came up to me just then and said you would go on a date with me" he responded

"only if you asked" you blinked

"well then, how would you like to go the three broomsticks with me this weekend, Saturday maybe?" he asked you

"your favourite right?" you raised your eyebrows

he gasped "how'd you know?" he placed a hand over his heart

"lucky guess" you giggled

"so what do you say? will you go out on a date with me? a successful businessman, who is -said to be- very attractive" he question sheepishly

"Saturday?" you asked "I don't know I might be busy-"

"-Sunday?" he cut you off

"I was kidding, Saturday sounds perfect" you grinned up at him

"great, perfect. Meet me here at 11- in the morning, or night, is night better?" he rambled quietly

"11 at night? bit late don't you think?" you questioned

"right yeah, morning is more reasonable" he nodded

"well th-" he started but got cut off by George

"-Fred, I need help!"

Fred looked back at his twin and back at you, sparing a kiss to your cheek

"see you then, Love" he winked before rushing to George

--------------------------------------------------

[diazsdimples]

Thinking things. Specifically Buddietommy things. Even more specifically, the Eddietommy of it all. We know they're similar, they got on like a house on fire in 7x04, Eddie's mentioned his time in the army, they've got similar interests etc etc.

I was thinking specifically about the anniversary of Eddie's convoy going down, and him not being alone while mourning them for the first time. Tommy comes home from a shift to find Buck alone on the couch. It's unusual because Eddie and Buck usually wait together for Tommy to come home, normally cuddled up on the couch with at least one of them asleep. After he's put his gear away, Tommy goes into the lounge and gives Buck a kiss before asking where Eddie is. Buck explains that he's in their room, having said he needs some space. Tommy instantly remembers what day it is, and tells Buck that he's going to go check on Eddie.

Tommy and Eddie show their love for one another in a very different way to how they show their love for Buck. Buck is very tactile and loves words of affirmation, whereas Tommy and Eddie prefer to show their love through acts of service and quality time with one another, such as sparring, fixing the car, and making each other coffee in the mornings. Tommy’s also the only other person who understands what it’s like for Eddie on days like today. Sure, Buck is very understanding and tries to make it as painless for Eddie as possible, giving him lots of hugs if he wants, or space if that’s what he prefers. But only Tommy knows what it’s like to lose his brothers and sisters in combat. Only Tommy knows what it’s like to do everything you can to save their life, and still not have it be enough. That might be why Tommy feels he’ll have better luck talking to Eddie than Buck might.

He finds Eddie standing near the closet, with a small box clutched tightly in his hand. Tommy recognises it immediately from when Eddie showed him, and it makes sense for Eddie to be looking at his Silver Star on a day like today. Tommy wants to hug him, but he also doesn’t want to give the guy a fright.

“Sweetheart?”

When Eddie looks up, Tommy sees that his eyes are red rimmed and swimming with unspilt tears. His jaw ticks as he rhythmically clenches and unclenches it, trying to contain his emotions. Tommy slowly walks towards him, his arms extended for a hug, but with enough time for Eddie to say he doesn’t want it. Instead, though, Eddie collapses into him and clings onto his shirt as he cries and cries and cries. Tommy holds him through it, not caring that his shift is becoming a snotty mess. When Eddie’s crying slows into little hiccups, Tommy leads him to the edge of the bed, where he tells him to sit and wait for him.

Tommy goes into the kitchen to get Eddie a glass of water. On his way back, he finds Buck and tells him how Eddie’s doing. Buck is obviously concerned, but Tommy kisses him and strokes his hair and promises that they’re all okay. When Tommy goes back into their room, he finds Eddie sitting on the bed where he left him. The Silver Star has been packed up and the box is sitting beside Eddie on the bed. Tommy hands him the glass of water and strokes his hair while he drinks, leaning into Tommy’s side.

“When I had days like this, I used to go on drives. I found it helped clear my mind,” Tommy tells Eddie. Eddie lists further into Tommy’s arms, his breathing still a little shaky. “Would that be something you would want to do? We don’t have to go anywhere, can just drive until you want to come home.”

Eddie nods in response, and Tommy kisses his temple, then his cheeks, kissing away the tears.

“Get your shoes on and I’ll meet you out the front.”

Tommy goes back into the lounge and tells Buck of their plans. Eddie emerges a few moments later with his shoes and a jacket, and cuddles into Buck’s side when Buck opens his arms for a hug. Buck gives him and Tommy both a kiss before they leave, telling them to have a good drive and not to worry about dinner.

They’re quiet in the car, and Tommy drives along the residential roads, not taking the freeway. Eddie looks out the window and doesn’t say anything, but he clutches onto Tommy’s hand tightly. Tommy rubs the webbing between Eddie’s thumb and forefinger with his own thumb, occasionally bringing the hand up to brush a kiss against his knuckles. About 20 minutes in, Eddie starts to quietly give directions. Tommy figures out where they’re going, and no longer needs directions by the time they’re four blocks away from the cemetery.

When they get out of the car, Eddie begins to walk through the headstones. Tommy follows behind him, not touching Eddie, but still remaining close so he knows he’s here. Eddie stops in front of a grave that reads “Anita Mills.” He explains who she was, choking up occasionally. Tommy lets him speak, listening to every word Eddie says. She’s buried out here because her parents moved out to LA just after she was deployed. She’s the closest one to Eddie now, and he goes to see her once a year.

Eddie wants to talk to Anita on his own for a bit, so that gives Tommy the opportunity to send Buck a quick update. Buck tells Tommy that he’s got dinner underway, and for them to take their time, there’s no rush at all. So, when Eddie’s ready, Tommy takes his hand and leads him through the headstones once again, telling him that he wants to introduce him to someone.

They come to a stop in front of an older looking headstone, with a name carved into it that Tommy hasn’t seen for a long time. It’s his wing leader, he explains to Eddie. She was shot down over enemy territory and Tommy was part of the rescue mission that was sent out to recover her body. She was a role model to him, and taught him a lot about the kindness of the world. Him and Eddie stand together, Tommy’s arm over Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie’s head against his chest, and they just let themselves mourn. Tommy doesn’t know how Eddie’s feeling, but it’s really nice for him to have someone by his side who feels the same pain.

“I think I want to tell Buck about this,” Eddie whispers a few moments later. “I don’t want him to always feel left out when this comes around. I want him to know how it feels to me, how he can help me like you have.”

Tommy pulls Eddie in for a gentle kiss, and strokes his cheekbones. “He’ll be happy you trust him with this. We just want you to know you’re loved, Eddie.”

They go back to the car now, Eddie feeling a little better after having seen Anita and being with Tommy. Tommy drives them past their favourite ice cream place, where they both get a cone, and bring back a small tub for Christopher and Buck to share when they get home.

When they walk in the door, Buck already has dinner ready, and he’s set up the couch with a nest of blankets. Christopher is nestled beside him and looks up with delight as his dad enters the room. Eddie cries a little more as he holds Christopher, and kisses Buck, thanking him for the effort he put in, and for the food. They all snuggle up together, Eddie and Chris in the middle, with Tommy and Buck bracketing them on either side, and Eddie sighs happily as Tommy’s arms circle his waist, pulling him against his chest. They sleep really well that night, all three of them cuddled against each other. Eddie’s in the middle tonight, and Buck and Tommy hold him and kiss him and stroke his hair, while also trailing loving fingers over each other’s arms.

That day is the last time Eddie ever feels alone on the anniversary, because from then onwards, he has his boyfriends by his side, who hold him and let him grieve, and show him how much they love him. And he loves them so much too.

[fashionteahouse]

She’s in love with Paul and he loves her too they spend every day together but then he imprints on Rachel and slowly falls in love with her too so without meaning to he two times them cause he doesn’t wanna lose them until the reader comes out pregnant and he realizes he need to choose but then he doesn’t have to cause she met embry (Paul doesn’t bring her around anymore so she didn’t meet embry, quill or Jacob) and she doesn’t know why she has a connection with this guy

ohhh the drama i love it😭💜 hope you enjoy :)

crystal ball - paul x reader x embry

You and Paul walk hand in hand at the beach. You look to the right and the sunlight rays flash majestically against the features of his face. Highlighting the beauty, you stare at him in awe.

He catches you, smiling and asks, “What?”

You look down and blush.

You two have been together for quite some time now. You felt lucky to have been picked from Paul. You were hesitant at first, due to his reputation of being a player.

He’s shown you nothing but loyalty and you felt very happy. You were always happy with him. He was attentive, caring, and wasn’t afraid to show affection. Your favorite part about him was how he didn’t care about displaying it in front of others.

That night, he made you your favorite dish. He was a good cook too? You felt like he ticked all of the right boxes in your book. You loved spending the night at his place, knowing you were going to be satisfied all around.

He always made sure he held you close, whispering words of affection in your ear until you fell asleep. Most of the time, he showed through action more than he would with words.

He was picking you up tonight and you couldn’t wait. You were packing your overnight bag like you always did.

You sat on your couch, looking out of the windowsill, expecting his arrival. He told you a certain time that he would be there but it was getting later and later.

Soon enough, the sky was darkened and you had dozed off.

A knock on the door jerked you out of your slumber. It was Paul. You smile and hug him.

“Finally! I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say, you take a look at him.

Usually he would’ve came back with a witty remark but he just seemed too mellow. You tried not to think too much of it. He still made sure to smush his lips into yours and tells you how happy he is to see you.

You’re riding in his car and asked him what took him so long.

“I uh..got caught with some shit at Sam’s.” he says and stares straight ahead at the road.

As you look out the window, you hear vibrations of his phone. You don’t say anything. Until they vibrate with more force, implicating more messages.

“Who’s texting you?” you ask curiously.

He shrugs and rests a hand on your thigh and rub a little, “I don’t know but I’ll look at it later. Right now I’m with you so I’m not worried about it.”

You believe him. He’s never been dishonest with you before. He although, kept looking like something was on his mind.

He takes you into his house and immediately embraces you into a whirl wind of affection. Articles of clothing lying on his bedroom floor. The skin he pumps inside of you is filled with passion. As if this was the last time he got to make love to you. You didn’t care, it was mind blowing, driving you crazy, shivering, bucking your hips to meet his movements.

Some time goes by and you don’t notice anything out of place.

One morning you try to go about your day until a wave of sickness overcomes you. You vomit into your toilet bowl. Trying to pass it off as a stomach bug, you don’t think into it. The cramping but no period cycle is what worries you.

You buy two pregnancy tests, scared of the unknown.

Two blue plus signs stare back at you as you look at them like they were going to change. Accepting your fate, you call the man that is part of what made this happen.

He doesn’t answer. You’re confused. He always answers your phone calls. Even if he couldn’t talk, he would still answer to tell you that he will call you back. When he finally answers, you invite him over. You sit him down and show him the tests.

“We’re pregnant.” you breathe out.

He opens his mouth as if to say something but he just looks at them. Conflicting emotion is what is on his face. He looks at you and you can tell he’s unsure about something.

“I’m happy for us.” he tells you and embraces you.

You go to the library to check out some informational books. You had no idea about what to expect with pregnancies beside of what you saw on television.

You reach on your tippy toes to try to get a book that’s on a top shelf, the librarian already busy with someone else.

A long arm is now in your eye shot and it grabs the book with ease. The arm now extends the book to you. You look up at him and sees the contentment in his face. Your stomach flips and you know you’re way too early to feel any type of movement. You know this guy in front of you is responsible.

“Thank you.” you say and give him a smile.

“No problem.” he replies and without shame rake his eyes over your body. This makes you feel self conscious.

But he starts up a conversation that lets your shield come down a bit. You haven’t felt this nervous in a long time. Not even with Paul.

Embry was his name. You couldn’t believe how funny and easily likable he was. You didn’t want to bring yourself to have a crush because you didn’t know if that was just hormones. Plus, you were pregnant with Paul’s baby.

“Pregnancy books?” he finally asks.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m expecting.” He doesn’t seem to be scared away. He just nods and takes in this information as if he’s mentally keeping track of the facts about you.

You leave the library with him still on your mind.

Your dreams are vivid, containing him. He was just a stranger but yet your feelings were so overwhelming.

Paul came over, read some of the material over with you.

The thing that worries you is that when Paul feels your body in his hands, you would imagine how it would feel if it were Embry. With shame, you would get even more excited.

You imagined Embry being the one to be on top of you, to rub on your belly, to hold your hand on walks.

You haven’t heard from Paul this day and to be honest, you didn’t mind. It kind of gave you room to think about the guy you met.

You return to the library to return them and possibly find new books.

Embry was there. Warmth seeps through your entire body. You didn’t know why such guy made you feel so crazy. You felt like a schoolgirl all over again.

He sees you, and it makes you flattered how happy he is to see you.

He asks to take you out, without thinking, you accept. You’ll worry about the consequences later. You just wanted to be around him.

He kisses you goodnight and you add that to your late night fantasies. He just didn’t know what type of effect he had on you.

You two see each other more and more, even blowing Paul off to see Embry. Embry even takes over the role taking you to your appointments, being supportive in every step of the way.

You eventually invite Paul over one day and you sit him down.

“I think we’re better off as co parents.” you tell him.

He freezes, “You can’t do this by yourself. I have to be there for you.”

You shake your head and smile.

“What? You met someone?” he asks as he puts two and two together.

You nod.

He looks down sad, but he accepts this.

“I have something to tell you.” he says.

You look at him with attention.

“I imprinted.” he says.

“Who is she?” you ask.

“Her name is Rachel. Look Y/N, we can still make it work..” he starts.

You nod and have a seat. You’re not even hurt by this. You’re mostly relieved. But you don’t want to make it work. You’re excited for the future that entails you and Embry.

“I’m happy for you. I wish you both happiness.” you tell him and you mean it.

“I just have to ask, who is he?” he asks you.

“His name is Embry.” you tell him.

“Embry Call?” he asks.

You nod.

“I know him.” he says in a trailing tone. He takes one good look at you. You look genuinely happy. Happier than you’ve ever been with him. Glowing even. He was going to be mad at first but he sees that Embry has clearly been giving you the happiness that you deserve. He had no choice but to accept this and he does for the sake of the love that he had for you and his child.

[footballffbarbiex]

player: unnamed - anyone you want OC: female reader who isn't described. type: smut theme warnings: theme of sugar baby / sugar daddy.

-

the already impressive length of the text you're typing out to a friend is growing longer with each second that passes as you wait for him to come out of the shower. you're perched on the edge of the hotel bed, switching between replying to the texts and doing a little online shopping. the hotel that he's paid for is one of four that he books for these nights with you. he will only have the best room, in the best hotel and it shows.

the floor to ceiling windows boast the best 360 views of the city and you can still pinpoint the exact window that had your silhouette pressed against it like the touch from a ghost, leaving your presence within the room for hours after you've physically left it. the room is simple yet everything screams expensive. the mini bar is stocked with bottles of only the finest of champagnes, wines, and selection of spirits. you've image searched the art and it costs more than what he gives you a month. the bedsheets are the highest quality cotton and silk on a bed that was certainly not flat pack.

by the time you're dropping your phone back onto the bed and debating flinging yourself backwards too, he's stepping out of the bathroom in a blur of condensation and towards you.

"it's a good thing you don't have to pay me by the hour for these visits." you state, taking time to allow your gaze to linger over his body as he steps further into the room. the towel he's wearing is hanging low on his hips, not leaving much to the imagination at all.

"and why is that?" he's not oblivious to the way that you drink him in and there's already tell-tale signs of arousal. his own gaze drags over your body, admiring the new lingerie that he had sent your way as a "thinking of you in and out of this" gift. "You took your time," you comment, parting your legs and leaning back slightly as he fills the gap between your thighs and brings his torso close to yours. he's still slightly damp but you don't mind as you slot to him so perfectly it should be a crime to do so.

"you should already be nice and wet for me since you've been waiting so impatiently." he replies with a slight tone that brings a grin to your lips. he leaves enough of a gap to bring your hand between you both, hand reaching for his cock which is already stiffening against the towel. when your mouth opens to retort, he seizes the opportunity to claim your mouth.

Closing your fingers around his covered shaft, you stroke him ever so teasingly, enough to draw a slight whimper from him. you don't have time to be smug about such a thing, because you can already feel his own fingers brushing over the inside of your thigh and against your underwear.

your hips act with a mind of their own and buck up into his touch before you can stop yourself and you mirror the sound he made only moments ago. this arrangement was supposed to be financial only. and while there were no real feelings involved in a romantic sense, you did enjoy the genuine connection and chemistry that the two of you had which couldn't be bought.

"see," he says, middle finger stroking over the gusset of your panties, feeling the silky soaked patch increase as time ticks by. "so wet." "maybe that was from the thought of how I was going to be spending your money" you tease, and he grins; the action making your teeth clash together a little.

"you know what you did last time?" he asks in a quiet voice before his teeth nibble their way over your bottom lip. all you can do is hum your response as his fingers swipe over your swelling clit. "if you do that again, I'll pay for your shopping spree on top of this weeks payment."

the thought of having him powerlessly at your mercy once more is almost too great of an opportunity to pass up. you'd have done it again for free but if he was offering...

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I have been crying on and off about that Tommy MCD fic idea since you posted about it. The way you write emotional devastation is soooo good. It always punches me in the gut.

Thank you thank you here’s some more of it… using this as my fuck it Friday post, thanks for the tag @eddiebabygirldiaz, tagging @colonoscopys @homerforsure @chronicowboy @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @daffi-990 @butchdiaz @ anyone else who has stuff they want to share!

Going to put a lot of this under a cut because one its long two it’s a major character death au and there’s a bit about past contemplation of suicide. But it’s kind of happy generally I swear! This is Buck and Eddie getting together sort of!

For more of this au I’ve been tagging it ‘the seconds ticking killed us all a million years before the fall’ (lyrics from standing outside a broken phone booth with money in my hand)

I’ve hated and thought this scene was pretty good in turns over the last few hours so whatever here you go!

Eddie thinks the creaking on the front porch might be a raccoon, at first. It’s light, comes and goes for several minutes. He should probably go shoo it away, but it’s two am and he’s sore all over and can’t be damned. He’s settling further into the couch and his various ice packs when the raccoon knocks. Hesitant, hesitant, loud, loud, louder. Eddie stands up with only a slight groan, ice packs flopping all over the place, and goes to the door.

Buck stands on the other side of it.

If Eddie hadn’t been so exhausted yet in too much pain to fall asleep, he thinks he might have expected this. If he was a little more exhausted, a little more hurt, he might have admitted to hoping for it. As it is, all he can do for a moment is blink at the apparition before him. Buck is pale, wild eyed, looking somehow thinner than when they’d last seen each other not that many hours ago. His hands come up to hover near Eddie’s shoulders as Eddie is also reaching out, so he ends up with his fingers colliding into an awkward fist against Buck’s elbow.

“Eddie.” He sounds wrecked. “I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright,” Eddie says, soft, shaking his head. “I’m okay, Buck. I’m still okay. Like I promised.”

Buck makes a terrible little noise and steps backward, and again, off the porch. Eddie follows, hands out, trying to make sure he won’t trip. “Eddie,” he says again, “Eddie.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, keeping his voice low, calming, less likely to wake any neighbors. “Buck, it’s okay. Do you want to come inside?”

Buck looks up behind Eddie, where the door is wide open. Light spills through, shining in his eyes, in the unshed tears there. “I don’t want to… waste… any time I have.”

“What-”

Buck kisses him. The sound Eddie makes is more frightened than anything, even as his arms come up around Buck, to hold him close, to hold him up. It’s not- it’s wet, and Buck’s fingers almost hurt where they’re dug into the sides of Eddie’s head. Their faces are pressed too hard together, noses crushed into cheeks. Their lips are barely even aligned. Buck gasps a hitching breath into his mouth and Eddie pulls back. Not away, just enough to speak.

“Come inside,” he pleads. “Buck, come inside, just- please, come inside.”

Buck doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t give him an inch, but lets Eddie pull him into the house. Eddie’s not sure how he manages not to trip going blind and backwards, but they make it through the door, down the hall, to the living room. Eddie’s not even sure if he’d count what’s happening as kissing, but Buck’s mouth presses into his over and over as they go.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, between the moments of contact. “It’s okay,” he says as he kicks a shoe or something out of their path, “It’s okay,” as sits back down on the couch. Buck climbs on top of him immediately, and Eddie hopes the combined weight of them doesn’t pop the ice pack that ended up crushed under his thigh. It is kissing, now, the desperate kind of making out Eddie remembers with Shannon in the day or two on either side of his deployments. Eddie slides his hands to rest firm against Buck’s lower back to anchor him — or maybe both of them — and follows Buck’s lead as their lips slide together, as Buck gets his mouth open and chases his tongue, as they gasp raggedly for air without ever breaking apart. He’s not sure, but he thinks Buck is crying. Eddie isn’t, barely. Buck needs someone solid right now, someone who will let him take what he needs and be okay if this is it, if this is the only time they have this. Because Eddie’s not fooling himself. He laid there at the bottom of that pit under all that rubble and heard Buck’s scream, first wordless, and then Tommy, and then Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He knows that this might all be too much, too soon, too mixed up, and if Buck pulls away from this kiss and never comes in for another one that’s okay. He wishes, maybe, that it could have happened different. He wishes Buck had been smiling, and it had been gentler, on a bright afternoon, on a good day. But it’s okay.

It goes until Buck’s elbow catches a bruise and Eddie can’t stop a small, pained sound from getting out. Buck jerks back like he touched a hot stove, eyes open to near circles as he looks Eddie all over. Eddie knows it's sort of a rough picture, all purple and blue and a fresh line of stitches cutting a half moon around his temple from forehead to just under his mole. Buck’s fingers come up to trace it, not quite touching the skin. Just the shape, in the air.

“S-sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says again. He wipes a thumb under Buck’s eye, though it doesn’t do much to clear away the still falling tears. Buck leans into the touch, though, and then in further, head cradling against Eddie’s shoulder as he slides half off him onto the couch. Eddie slides his fingers into Buck’s hair, wraps his other arm around him as Buck coughs muffled little sobs into his t-shirt.

“S-sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Buck.” His hair feels a little limp, greasy. Eddie wonders if he went home at all, took a shower, ate. His own fridge is kind of dire — he was planning on going to the grocery store after work until a building collapsed on him — but he could probably scrounge up something. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Buck scoffs a single, wet laugh. “No,” he says, voice thin, scrubbing at his face as he sits more upright. “It’s not- you didn’t do it on purpose. That’s the job, right?”

The job that killed your husband. Why would you want to do this a second time? I care for you so much and I’m so sorry you reciprocate. “Yeah. Still.”

Buck inhales and exhales, shaky, and nods in thanks. He makes a face and pulls another ice pack out from under him. It’s all floppy now, probably too warm to be effective. “God. Let me…” He stands, gathering up all the ice packs he can see and heading towards the kitchen.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be just a minute.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch and listening to the freezer door open and its contents get shuffled around. The soft hiss of it shutting, Buck’s footsteps, Buck in the doorway sheepishly holding an armful of frozen vegetables. Eddie arranges peas and carrots over the worst sore spots as Buck sits back down beside him.

“Did you take anything?”

“Yeah, just before you got here.” Extra strength ibuprofen, so he won’t be good to take anything else until morning. Wasn’t going to be a problem when he thought he was just going to sleep, though he wishes he’d taken a smaller dose now so he could spread them out, time it better to however long they’ll be talking here.

“Good.” Buck sighs, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Sorry I… I didn’t mean to be so dramatic, coming here.”

Eddie laughs, startled and genuine. “It’s, uh, been a dramatic day.”

Buck hums agreement, a tired and beautiful smile pulling at his lips. He flops his head sideways onto the couch. “I kind of had a… an idea.”

��Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Of what I was going to say. Because…” he searches Eddie's face. “I'm not- I'm not making it up, right? There's something here? You feel it too?”

Eddie can barely breathe. “Yeah, I- it's not just you. But- Buck, I understand why you wouldn't want to do this, why you wouldn't want to take the risk. I- I have feelings for you,” it feels like a childish way to say it even as the words leave his mouth, “But I… you're my friend. I think you're my best friend. And I am truly fine with that. You don’t have to… it’s okay.”

That smile. “That’s the thing. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. N-not just today. Though, I guess- you scaring the shit out of me made it more- more real.” He chews at his lip for a moment. “I… spend a lot of time wishing… that I had more of it, with Tommy. That we had longer together. Or at least that I- that I’d made sure every minute counted, you know? B-but I think maybe I did? I loved him so much and we- it was good, what we had. Just because it ended, that doesn’t mean the rest wasn’t worth it. I’d love him again, knowing what was coming. And, so…” he takes a deep breath. “So I’ve been thinking that… even if I… even if something bad could happen- I don’t want that to stop me from having something good, now.”

“Buck-”

“Hold on,” Buck says, a hand up, a wry smile. “I have a part two.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s turned towards him without really noticing, both of them sitting one leg folded up on the couch so their knees touch.

“I’m not… going to stop loving Tommy. And I’m, uh- kind of a fucking mess, as I just demonstrated. I don’t- know that I’m- going to be any less messy any time soon.” There’s a furrow in his brows that Eddie wants to smooth out. “I don’t know that starting something would be fair to you.”

“I-”

“You’re a very kind man, Eddie.” Buck says it very softly, and one of his hands comes to rest so gently on Eddie’s leg. “I think you’d let me fall apart here forever, but I want- I want you to really think if it’s worth it-”

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice is sharp enough that Buck blinks several times, quick. “Don’t- you’re worth it. Your pain isn’t- it’s not some kind of chore to me. I haven’t been just- hanging around, waiting until you’re a fun guy. I like you, Buck, right now, not- not some other perfectly okay version of you.”

Buck’s fingers twitch against Eddie’s thigh. “You’re a very kind man,” he repeats.

“I don’t even know if that’s true,” Eddie sighs, the material of the couch soft where he rests his cheek against it. “I just…” He thinks back to that first day Buck showed up at the station, and then to every day after that. “I think I always just wanted… to make your life easier.”

“Oh.” Buck shuts his eyes, whistles a breath through his nose. “You- you do. You do, Eddie.”

They’re quiet, at an impasse. The whole world is quiet, here at nearing 3 am with all the colors purple dark outside of this lamp lit room. Eddie can hear crickets and frogs if he listens hard enough. “Tommy was my friend. I’ve felt… guilty.”

Buck opens his eyes again. “For liking me?”

Eddie smiles a little at the phrasing — Sophia’s 8th grade voice saying like-like in his head — and nods. “It feels… disrespectful. He loved you so much, I don’t- I don’t know how he’d feel about it.”

Buck scratches a nail absently against the fabric of Eddie’s sweatpants. “We talked about it, a little.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The jobs we have, you know? It’s not like- it’s not like we never got hurt, never thought about what would happen if one of us…” Buck shrugs, and his smile aches this time. “I told him if I died he had to be sad forever, only love me the rest of his life.”

Eddie laughs. “Mm. Reasonable ask.”

Buck nods, smile getting bigger, almost a grin. “I didn’t mean it, but… You know, I think he would have. He was teasing when he promised, but… he was serious, too, I think.” He sighs. “He told me he was scared I wouldn’t let anyone love me. He said I-” Buck’s voice cracks badly enough he has to wait a few moments to continue. “I’m too easy to love. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t go without it.”

Eddie feels a little wide eyed. “That’s…”

“Isn’t that just annoyingly romantic?” Buck laughs, wiping his eyes. “Reasonable ask. Jesus.” He scrubs harder. “I think he… he wanted to make my life easier, too. You’re… you’re so alike, sometimes.” He winces. “No, that’s- I don’t mean- that’s not why I-”

“No, it’s… I know you’re not trying to replace him.” It’s not like he hasn’t had the thought, himself. He and Tommy got on so well in part because they were alike. Shared hobbies, both army, both carrying around a complicated relationship with their families and their sexuality. But they’re their own people. And- “I wouldn’t want to… try to be that, for you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

There’s another quiet minute. Hesitantly, Eddie rests his hand palm up next to Buck’s. Buck slides their fingers together, and they fit as well as any hands do. “So… what do you want to do? What do you want to happen?”

Buck squeezes. “I… I’m not sure.”

Eddie nods. “Has there… am I the first person? After?”

Buck’s eyes get a little calculating, like he’s not sure he should say whatever comes next. “I hooked up with a girl, a few months in, uh, a little before I came to the 118. In a bar somewhere, I don’t even remember… And then I went home and, uh-” he winces, glances to the side. “I almost killed myself.”

“Buck-” Jesus, jesus-

“No, no-” Buck squeezes tighter, sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t. I didn’t and I wouldn’t. I- I’m safe, I promise, Eddie. It wasn’t- it wasn’t even actually an attempt, I just… thought about it.” He swallows. “It was close, I guess.”

Eddie’s clinging more than holding his hand. “Buck- if- I don’t want to-”

“No,” Buck shakes his head, firm. “I didn’t tell you because I- I thought if we-” his other hand wraps around the two of theirs. “I don’t want you to think if we move forward you’re putting me in danger. You’re not. I- I wasn’t doing well back then, it was hardly even about- it was a lot of things. I’m going to be okay, I swear.”

“If- If you’re ever not-” words feel like physical objects in Eddie’s throat, choking and uncomfortable. “Promise me you’ll tell someone, Buck. It- it doesn’t have to be me, just- promise me.”

“I promise,” Buck says, solemn, serious. His thumb rubs gently at the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees immediately. “It’s… I asked. I want to know. I-” they complete another loop on this circle of a conversation. “I told you, your pain isn’t a chore. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

“Right,” Buck sighs.

“Buck.”

“No, I-” Buck laughs a little at Eddie’s admonishing tone. “That was a right, I understand, not a yeah, right. I just-” he takes a hand away from the tangle they’ve got going and runs it through his hair. “God, I’m tired.”

Eddie nods. He’s exhausted, down in his bones. “Okay. I’ve got two things to say that don’t really go together, this time.”

“Okay,” Buck smiles at him, eyes crunched up and fond. “Hit me.”

“First, I think…” Eddie sits up straighter, too, takes a deep breath. “I like you, Buck. I- care for you. I- I-” Truth has to go both ways. Fuck it. “I’m in love with you. You should probably know that.”

Buck nods, eyes wet again. “Okay.”

“But I think if we… If you want to try being together, we should take it slow, and if you need to back out, that's okay. You’re my friend, and I swear to you that’s more important to me than anything else. So… So we have to just keep being honest with each other, even if it might hurt.”

“Alright,” Buck nods again, wiping his eyes. He manages a smile. “Was that the second thing, or…”

Eddie shakes his head, lips quirking up. “No. The second thing is, you wanna come sleep with me?”

Buck throws his head back laughing, almost losing balance where he sits. Eddie grabs his elbow to make sure he won’t fall over. “Eddie-”

“It’s late,” Eddie explains, not bothering to keep the adoration out of his voice now that he doesn’t really have to. “You shouldn’t drive home, my bed’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Buck laughs again, resting his elbow on the couch and his chin on his hand. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie thinks there’s plenty of adoration in that gaze, too. He shakes his head, though. “I think I’ll still take the couch tonight, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

Buck raises their still clasped hands and kisses Eddie’s knuckles, holding his smile pressed into the skin there for a few moments. “And in the morning we can start to… figure out the rest of it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. Smiles once, twice. “See you then. Looking forward to it.”

Buck ducks his head, though his smile is still visible. “Yeah. Me too. Go- get some sleep, Eddie. I’ll-” he laughs, looking around them. “I’ll put away your peas.”

“Oh,” Eddie lifts up a bag of mushy vegetables. “No, I can do it, don’t worry about it.”

“Eddie.” Buck stands, gently taking the bag, and hesitating only a moment before he bends down and carefully kisses his cheek. From only a few inches away, eyes soft and close and blue, he says “I want to make your life easier, too.”

Eddie swallows hard, rests his hand against Buck’s cheek for just a second, and nods, momentarily incapable of words. Buck is halfway to the kitchen when he manages to say “Goodnight, Buck.”

Buck turns in the doorway. Smiles. “Goodnight, Eddie. See you in the morning.”

[anachilles]

something something bucky using the extremely short time he’s back at base before flying out on what would be his last revenge mission to pack buck’s trunk (whilst at the same time insisting to anyone that’ll listen that they don’t actually ship it back to the US yet).

something something amongst buck’s things, finding one of the man’s silk (?) neckerchiefs/cravats still soaked in his signature aftershave, and it landing a visceral double hit to both his chest and his gut.

when nobody’s looking he slips it somewhere underneath what he’s wearing. takes it into the air with him on the mission and then hurtles from the sky down into what feels like hell, all with the soft material stretched against his skin and the achingly familiar scent lingering about him.

days later, he’s able to give it back to buck and all when they’re reunited at the stalag. for appearances, surrounded by the other, buck accepts it with a hint of a smile and a joke about bucky going to such an awful lot of trouble just to get it back to him.

but he also sees how bucky’s hands hesitate just a beat in handing it over, how his jaw ticks just a little despite how he’s smiling in the levity of the moment.

buck can read this man upside down and back to front, after all.

so he grabs him later on in a moment alone and gives it back, the lingering brush of their hands and a loaded look as much a promise as the gesture itself.

[ubernatural]

Due to the overwhelming majority of positive votes on my poll, this is a small snip of my as of now unnamed destiel fic. Please please please talk to me about how I can improve or what you liked about it <3

———

Cas was alone. Again. His roommate had fucked off, predictably, and left him to stew alone in their half unpacked room right before his first classes of the year. Normally, he’s fine being by himself. Thrives in it, really. But after the way he left things with his family, he’s craving human contact more than ever.

His parents will tell you he “ran away,” but, really, he just never told them he got accepted into KU. He just packed his bags, and left for the fall semester. He had been working jobs since he was fifteen and had saved every last cent of his pay, so he had some money to help with tuition. He also got one mean scholarship, so all he really needs are the books. But that won't stop his parents from calling him “selfish” and “entitled” when all he really wants is to live his life not being constantly squished into the image of the perfect son that hasn’t fit him in a long ass time.

It also doesn’t help that they are super religious and did not support him coming out as gay. They insisted it was a “phase” and “would pass.” But Cas had known for years that he was into men. He knew it before when he picked a girl in class to “like” just so he would fit in. He knew it in Senior year when Hannah, a girl in his school, invited him over to her house to study, or so he thought. She said she was going to change into something more comfortable and he figured that meant pajamas, but apparently that meant buck ass nude. He was embarrassed and, frankly, grossed out. He made a speedy exit, and avoided her for the rest of the year. His parents, Chuck in particular, kept asking him what ever happened to “that lovely Hannah girl.” Well, now they know why they never saw her again.

Pushing away the thought of his family, he rises from his bed to get ready. He throws on a pair of worn dark wash jeans, a black shirt, and pulls a battered gray zip-up over it all. He grabs the old messenger bag he was able to snatch from his father before he left, and fills it with the books he’s going to need today.

The walk to class was pretty uneventful. It was a nice day, and Cas only got lost once. He quickly asked for directions, and was relieved that he wasn’t even that far off course.

He was still pretty proud of himself when he got to the lecture hall. It was relatively full, but not so that it was hard to find a seat. He ended up picking one close to the middle next to a small redhead with glasses. They shared a polite smile before she reached her hand out for him to shake. “Hey there. I’m Charlie.”

Cas tentatively grasped her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Hello, Charlie. My name is Castiel.”

“Oh, that’s so cool! I might have to steal it for my new DnD character,” she playfully shoots back.

“Yes, well, you would be too late considering it’s already the name of mine.” His lips tick up in a smile as he sees her face brighten.

“Dude, you should totally come over and play sometime! I’ve only got one other friend who plays, and his younger brother who’s usually our DM.” Her eyes widen a fraction before she continues frantically, “I mean, obviously you don’t have to, and this is kinda weird since we know basically nothing about each other and-”

“I would love to join you, Charlie.” He cuts off her rambling before she can talk herself out of his invite.

Her face splits into a wide grin, and she’s beaming again. “Did we just become besties?” she asks.

“Yes, I believe we did,” Cas amusedly answers.

-

The Queen: handmaiden, come quick

emergency dnd meet in my room

now!

and bring the good popcorn

-

Dean gets the text as he’s finishing his last class for today. He’s pretty drained from all of the “introduce yourself” and “get to know you” chats that he was forced into all day. The sun’s setting, and all he really wanted was to curl up in bed and maybe watch Tombstone for the millionth time. But he loves Charlie, and he can’t refuse his queen. He shoots off a text saying he’ll be right there, and heads for his room to get the requested snack.

Ten minutes later, he’s standing outside Charlie’s dorm with the half cheesy, half caramel popcorn that she likes. He knocks once and is utterly unprepared for what he sees when he lets himself in.

“Hey, Charles-”

He stops in his tracks as he takes in the scene. Charlie and some guy are sitting on the floor as Charlie is very animatedly ranting about something or another and the guy is just sitting there, softly but excitedly smiling at her. Upon second glance, the guy is hot. He’s wearing a shirt that hugs his shoulders perfectly and matches his messy black curls. The guy also has a straight nose and full lips. When he looks up at Dean, he’s struck by just how blue his eyes are. Blue enough to drown in. Shut up, brain.

Their impromptu staring contest is interrupted by Charlie springing up from her spot on the floor and practically yanking him all the way inside the room. “Dean,” she says, “this is Castiel. We have English together and he mentioned he plays DnD, so I invited him over to see if we could coerce you and Sam into getting a game started.” He raises a quizzical brow and her responding look says “just go with it.”

“Uh, hey, man,” he says, transferring the nearly forgotten bag of popcorn under his left arm, reaching the other out for the guy to shake.

“Hello, Dean.” And damn, if he hadn't thought this guy was hot before, he definitely thinks so now. His voice is whiskey smooth yet still has a gargling gravel quality to it. His handshake is strong, too. And just as he realizes that fact, he also recognizes that he’s held this guy's hand for a beat too long and was staring again.

He clears his throat and extracts his hand, trying to control the flush he’s feeling. Judging by the small smirk on this Castiel guy’s face, he’s failed miserably.

Turning back to Charlie, resolutely ignoring the self satisfied smile on her smug little face, he extracts the popcorn from under his arm and offers it to her with a small bow. “M’lady,” he recites.

“Why thank you, handmaiden,” she says liltingly, and pats him on the head.

“Anything for you, my queen,” he says as he straightens.

He throws a glance back over at the guy, who is doing a comically adorable squint-tilt of confusion. He sniggers a little to himself. Where did Charlie find this guy? “So, Cas,” he starts, “are you a sweet or salty kind of guy?”

The squint deepens until the whole look smoothes out. “Well, I prefer sweet to salty snacks, if that’s what you’re asking. Although I do believe that opinion is almost entirely based off of my older brother sharing his sugar addiction with me.” His face turned contemplative and almost yearning.

“Well, that’s good since that half and half crap she has me pick up is more 70-30 on carmel to cheese. Now it works out,” he grins, “you two can split the 70 and I’ll get the 30 all to myself.”

“That’s… agreeable.”

His smile widens much more than the comment earned, but he can’t help it. He’s swooning and the man only said two words. “Great, I’ll get Sammy on the phone. Charles, why don’t you and Cas set up the game?”

Sam picks up on the third ring, predictably still awake and not trying to ignore his big brother. “Hey, Dean. How did your first day go?”

“Ah, it was alright, Sammy. Met some people, found some classes, nothing real eventful until now.”

“Until now? What does that mean?” He sounds equal parts concerned and cautious.

“Nothing bad, you can relax. Charlie found herself a new bestie, and we were just wonderin’ if your dungeon master skills could be brought out for a quick game.”

There’s a large sigh on the other end of the phone before he inevitably relents. “Fine. Put me on speaker, I’ll go get my notes.”

“Yes, Sammy!” he shouts excitedly “This is why I love you.” He puts his phone on speaker and flashes a thumbs up at the other two in the room who had looked up at his outburst.

“There’s gotta be more reasons than that, jerk,” Sam replies petulantly.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out, bitch,” he throws back.

There's grumbling and shuffling on the phone, and Dean grins triumphantly, even though the comeback didn't make much sense. “Ok,” Sam pauses, “am I on speaker?”

“Yeah. Hi, Sam!” comes Charlie’s reply.

“Hi, Char. And, uh, hi, Charlie’s new bestie?”

“Hello, Sam. My name is Castiel. It is good to speak with you.” Dean could listen to Castiel read an organic chemistry textbook and never get bored.

“Hello, Castiel. It’s nice to meet a fellow nerd,” Sam jokes.

Cas laughs and if Dean likes his voice, he loves his laugh. He could bottle it up and get drunk on it each night. God, when did he turn into such a sap?

They stay on the phone with Sam through a two hour adventure that he found lying in his notes. Afterwards, it’s pretty late, but they stick around and chat for a bit. They find out some random things about Cas, like, he’s 20 (just a year younger than Dean), his favorite animal is a bee (”But that’s not an animal, Cas, It’s an insect.” “And insects are a type of animal, Dean.”), he has one older brother, and apparently is in a band.

“No way, dude! That’s so cool! What do you play?” Charlie practically bounces off of her perch on the edge of her bed in excitement.

“Well, I play guitar, but I also sing, sometimes.” He shrugs, “We’re very flexible with who takes the lead, though. It usually comes down to who wrote the song and what they want to do with it.” He then smiles shyly, “Then again, most of the songs are mine as well, with more than a few written by my friend, Meg.”

Charlie nearly chokes on her own spit. “Wait, Meg, as in Meg Masters?”

The squint-tilt is back. “Yes. Megara Masters. Do you know her?”

Charlie scoffs, “Know her? No. Know of her? Hell yes. What kind of lesbian would I be if I didn't know the hottest gay in school?”

“Hey,” Dean protests, “the hottest gay is obviously that Aaron guy.”

She reached over and gently laid her hand on his cheek, “Oh, sweetie,” she said pleasantly, “you keep telling yourself that.” She pats his cheek lightly before she withdraws her hand. The whole exchange leaves Cas more than a little confused.

The topics ebb and flow however it wants, and soon they’re debating the merits of each Hogwarts house.

“I don’t care what either of you buffoons have to say, I gotta back my girl Harmionie,” Charlie yells.

“We’re not talking about characters, Char, We’re talking about the house itself!” Dean yells back.

“But if we were talking about characters,” Cas chimes, “That would give Hufflepuff a point because of Sedric.”

“Oh, yea?” Charlie snaps. “And where’s Sedric now, Cas? That's right, he’s dead,”

Dea narrows his eyes, “That was a low blow, Char.” No one disrespects Sedric and gets away with it.

Cas is about to speak, presumably to come to Dean’s aid, when his phone chimes. “Oh dear,” he says.

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asks as nonchalantly as he can, but if the look Charlie shot at him is anything to go by, it didn't work very well.

He laughs breathily at his phone and begins tapping away, speaking distractedly as he goes. “It looks like it’s much later than I thought, and Gabriel seems to have been trying to contact me for quite some time now.” He bites his lip thoughtfully before he starts typing again. Dean tries not to let his gaze snag on the gesture.

“If you gotta go, man, that’s cool,” Dean relents.

“Yeah,” Charlie chimes, “we should all probably get some sleep, anyways.”

“Yes I think I might do just that,” Cas answers. Just then his phone starts buzzing in his hand. “I have to take this, but it was lovely meeting both of you, and I hope we can possibly do this again sometime?”

“Of course, dude,” Charlie answers and goes in for a hug. Cas is a bit awkward, but he’s smiling, so it can’t be too bad. “We nerds gotta stick together!” she declares.

Dean sticks his hand out for Cas to shake. It’s firm and strong and lasts a little bit longer than a normal handshake, but Dean’s probably just imagining that. He also probably imagined when Cas’ eyes seemed to flick down to his lips. He had to have imagined it. No way would this guy be interested in a sack like Dean.

Cas seems to come back to himself abruptly when his forgotten phone starts buzzing again. He answers swiftly with a sort of fond and annoyed look that belongs to most younger brothers. “Gabriel, ya kak raz sobiralsya pozvonit'. Chto vam nuzhno?” He casually shoots them a wave, and closes the door on his way out.

Dean and Charlie are left staring after him in shock. Was that Russian?