#but boy when he gets used... he's unstoppable

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi Drabbles,

I wanted to ask if you still do prompts and if you do can you do the one below?

So Danny is the Ghost King and was friends with Bruce’s parents so he felt when they died. They could become ghosts but I’ll leave that up to you. But either way, Danny feels their death and assists Alfred when he can to raise Bruce. Due Danny’s visits and Bruce’s holidays in the infinite realms they (Bruce and Alfred) became very Liminal. So they have slight powers. One day, Danny comes over with Ellie and Dan (who are like siblings to Bruce as both we deaged/destabilised and Danny raised them) but Bruce forgets he never told the newer kids about them as Danny hasn’t come over in a while. Dick has meet them, Jason has heard about of them but the rest don’t know about them.

There were three strangers in their house. Usually, that would be okay, as multiple people came and went through Wayne Manor. It was customary to hire random crews to help set up for a Gala, or maybe some representatives from the various charities they helped would come over for dinner or a meeting.

Sometimes, a few of Bruce's old party buddies would pop up to get him to stop being a dad and return to his party boy days. They've all learned how to dance around visitors and hide their identities.

The thing was, these strangers were kept from the main parts of the manor. Their rooms, the sitting lounge, Bruce's Office, Damian's art studio, Jason's library, Tim's game room, Cass' dance studio, and Duke's music record room were all inaccessible.

Bruce would always ask if someone attempted to sneak away and stop them. There was a time when paparazzi disguised themselves as crew members—the three idiots even got jobs at the cleaning company—and tried to see if they could find a scandal on the children.

Brucie Wayne was seen crying hysterically on the news that night for accidentally pushing down a piano on them. He was trying to take it up to the Music Room as a surprise for Duke and wanted to avoid bothering the cleaners to have them help him. He had no idea the rope he was using to drag the grand piano up the stairs would have snapped and rolled backward onto the paparazzi, who had previously been taking pictures of Cass practicing without her knowledge.

People told him not to feel bad, as Bruce had cameras in the hallways of his home due to the last time someone broke in, and it was obviously not his fault. Some people said they deserved it, but Bruce wouldn't hear it. He paid for all their medical bills and gave them enough funds to tie them over for three weeks while they recovered.

Everyone shook their heads at poor Bruce. After all, the piano had fallen so far that the only real harm was that each of them got a few bruises and a broken arm, but that was all.

The point was that no one went up there that shouldn't be.

Yet here, standing in the middle of the Gaming room, were three strangers who were all aggressively battling it out on an old remaster shooting game.

"This is way harder than I remember," said the oldest one, who seemed to be Alfred's age.

"That's cause you always sucked at games," The woman taunted, but her words were countered by the other man shooting her down. "Hey!"

"Ha!" Barked the last man from where he was twisting his elbows, moving alongside his running character. "I'm unstoppable!"

Tim turns to his siblings, about to ask them how they want to play the dramatic scene where they would throw these people out, but his words catch in his mouth upon spotting Cass' expression.

Her narrowed, guarded eyes watched the three with the same amount of steel she had reserved for only the worst of their enemies. Whoever they are, they set off so many alarms in her. She knows they're dangerous.

At once, this minor inconvenience turned into a severe risk to his health. He snaps back towards the strangers, tense and ready for battle. Around him, the rest of his siblings are in similar stances, quickly signing how they would attack.

What kind of message were they sending if someone on Cass's danger scale was able to break in undetected and choose to play with their things? Was it a show of what they could do? Claim that they could beat the Bats without really trying?

The woman's eyes snap towards them so fast she could have been a speedster. He had even noticed her turning around; one second, she was back to them. The next, she was half-turned, staring at them. It looked like a poorly edited video. Everyone jumps, but all she does is smile. "Hey, it's Bruce's kids! Anyone want to call the winner?"

The older gentleman drops his control, turns around to fully face them, and gasps. He puts one hand on his chest and the other right above his mouth. "Look at them! There are so many! Alfred must be so excited to be a grandfather. Why aren't you two giving me grandbabies?"

"Ugh, not this again." The man sighs, continuing to play despite the fact that the other two are no longer paying attention.

"It's fine time you find someone nice." The other protested.

"I'm not nice," Countered the player. "I highly doubt someone would want to find me."

"That's not true, Dan. Most of my co-workers want your number, " the woman chirps. "Also, stay away from my office. It's gross."

"Aren't half of your office married?"

"That's why I said most, you idiot."

"Just for that, I'm going to your office dressed like a romance novel protagonist. The modern professor who goes home for the holidays and finds his humanity again. I'll have a trench coat and everything."

"How dare you. Then I'll strut by your friends in a bikini."

"That's mean. It's not Halloween; there is no need to scare them."

"I'll kill you-"

"Enough! Honestly, you two, you're in your late thirties. Stop bickering."

"No matter how old we are, Dani will always be my little sister."

"Aw. " Dani poses the same as the older man—hand on chest, hand over mouth—and looks close to tears. "I love you too, you big waste of space."

Cass creeps into the room, somehow vanishing from view as the three strangers chat. Tim is still determining where she is, but he figures she'll strike when she has the opening. He feels Duke palm the knife in his pocket, and Damian lowers himself in preparation to throw a ninja star.

Dan snaps his head up with a laugh. "Wow, you're fast. A little too loud, though. Make sure to flatline your heartbeat when sneaking up on people."

Cass drops down over him, but Dan only laughs. Her blade goes right through him, and her fast place kicks do nothing. She accidentally cuts the controller in half, stopping the man's laughter.

"No! I was winning!"

"Ha!" Dani barks, uncaring the ninja star that goes through her right shoulder and flies through her body to exit on the other side. "Dan forfeits!"

"How does this count as forfeiting-"

"Guys, the children are trying to kill us." The older man cuts in. He levels the Waynes with large, grandfatherly eyes. "Children, why are you trying to kill us?"

He says it the same way someone would as a child why they were putting things in their mouths.

"Not kill. Just harm," Duke responds, voice low and dangerous. " Why don't you answer our questions. How did you get in here?"

"Alfred, let us in. He said we could make ourselves at home while he stepped out." The old man frowned. "He went to get Bruce from his office."

"Who are you?" Tim demands next, filing away the claim that Alfred let them. The butler would have told them days in advance if someone would have access to the game room.

"I'm Danny Fenton. These are my children, Dani and Dan." Danny introduces, eyeing the crowd. "We're close friends of Alfred and Bruce."

"How-"

"It's so good to see you all again!" Dick cheers, running down the hallway and still in uniform. He jumps over his siblings in an impressive flip, not breaking stride to race into Danny's arms.

The older man holds them open seconds before they crash together. "Dick! Look how big you've gotten. Oh, it seems like only yesterday you were waist-high!"

"Ha ha ha, it has been a few years, Granpa Danny. Hi Auntie, Uncle! How are you?"

"Dickie, my sweet pea, look at you!" Dani squeals, leaning in for her own hug. She passes through a confused Cass like a ghost. "So handsome! And Tall! Who told you that you were allowed to grow taller than me?"

"Seeing that you are barely over five' six, everyone," Dan laughs, clapping Dick on the shoulder. "It's a shame we're twins, so I'm no taller."

"Um, Dick?" Tim calls as his brother breaks in fast-paced, reassurances that no matter how tall he is, he will always be open for hugs from the shorter adults. "Who are they?"

"Oh these are Fentons. Danny helped Alfred raise Bruce, so their like our extended family."

Tim blinks, wondering if this feeling of confusion is what his classmates mean whenever they joke about being at family functions and people who last saw them as babies walk up to them like they should know them. It's an odd feeling.

"Oh, them?" Jason says from behind the hallway. He peeks in casually, lowering his gun and raising the soda can in the other hand. "I heard about them but never met them. They have level purple clearance."

"Of course we do! We build that stupid cave for Bruce." Dan scoffs. "He got stuck down there as a kid and thought it was safe just to make an entire headquarters in a hole. Honestly."

"At least Bruce has a career and children," Danny says pointingly.

"Please don't compare me to my cousin." Dani groans. "It's exhausting."

Yeah, this is definitely extended family.

[dissapointu]

how about arcane characters with a s/o that has a cat companion. Like his cat is seen everywhere they can go, on there shoulders, runs to the market, gang shootouts( for some of the more morally grey characters in zaun.) ect. The cat is very protective of there s/o and was hesitant when they first met the characters in question, but the the less is a good boy/girl.

A protective, ride-or-die cat as your constant companion? ICONIC. This little feline bodyguard is out here stealing hearts and taking names, while also being suspicious of anyone who gets too close to you. Spoiler alert: they’re gonna be OBSESSED.

Jinx

Jinx would be INSTANTLY fascinated by your cat.

• The first meeting? Pure chaos. Your cat hisses, and Jinx hisses back just to mess with it. “Oh, so YOU’RE the boss here, huh? Let’s see how long THAT lasts!”

• Once your cat warms up, Jinx is smitten, carrying it around like a baby while saying stuff like, “We’re gonna blow stuff up together, kitty. You’re in the gang now.”

• She’d build it little accessories, like goggles or a harness for “maximum chaos.” (“Every sidekick needs gear, babe!”)

• During fights, Jinx is cackling as your cat perches on your shoulder like a tiny warlord. “Look at us—unstoppable!”

Vi

Vi would think it’s hilarious at first, but the cat’s loyalty earns her respect.

• The first time the cat hisses at her, Vi raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Just like your owner.”

• Once she gains the cat’s trust, she’s giving it belly rubs and calling it tough-sounding nicknames like “Scrapper” or “Claws.”

• She LOVES how the cat follows you everywhere, even into sketchy situations. “Guess I’ve got competition for best protector, huh?”

• If anyone messes with you, she’s jokingly like, “Back off before my partner—or their cat—tears you apart.”

Sevika

Sevika would be skeptical at first, but the cat would win her over.

• The initial meeting? Your cat hisses, Sevika laughs. “This one’s got guts. I like it.”

• Eventually, your cat starts curling up on her lap while she’s playing cards or sharpening her arm, and Sevika’s like, “You better not tell anyone about this.”

• She secretly respects how loyal and fearless the cat is, especially during high-stakes situations. “That furball’s got more spine than half the people I know.”

• Sevika would jokingly side-eye the cat whenever it interrupts your time together. “I get it—you’re the favorite.”

Silco

Silco would be intrigued by your cat’s protective nature but would take his time earning its trust.

• The first time the cat hisses at him, he just raises an eyebrow and calmly says, “Loyalty. A rare trait.”

• Once the cat warms up, Silco quietly appreciates its presence, occasionally letting it lounge in his office or sit on his desk.

• He admires how the cat mirrors your loyalty, seeing it as an extension of your character. “A creature so devoted is a reflection of its owner.”

• Silco would lowkey enjoy the cat’s protective instincts, smirking when it growls at anyone who gets too close to you.

Vander

Vander would LOVE your cat and its unwavering loyalty.

• The first meeting? Vander just chuckles when the cat hisses at him. “Alright, alright—I’ll win you over eventually.”

• He’d bribe the cat with scraps from the bar until it starts curling up next to him while he works. “See? Told you we’d be friends.”

• Vander appreciates how the cat follows you everywhere, especially in dangerous situations. “Good to know someone’s always got your back, even when I’m not there.”

• He’s always sneaking the cat treats, saying, “You keep looking out for ‘em, and I’ll keep looking out for you.”

Ekko

Ekko would LOVE your cat’s adventurous spirit.

• When the cat hisses at him, Ekko laughs and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay—I get it. You’re the boss.”

• Once the cat warms up, he’s geeking out over how cool it is, building it little toys out of scrap and playing with it whenever he gets the chance.

• He admires how the cat sticks with you through thick and thin, even during Firelight missions. “Your cat’s tougher than half my crew. Respect.”

• Ekko would probably try to teach the cat tricks, joking that it’s your team’s new mascot.

Jayce

Jayce would think your cat is the CUTEST thing ever.

• The first time the cat hisses at him, Jayce gasps dramatically. “Hey! I’m one of the good guys!”

• He’d try so hard to win the cat over, and when it finally lets him pet it, he’s grinning like a kid. “See? We’re friends now!”

• He loves how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, always making jokes like, “Your bodyguard’s doing a great job. I don’t even need to be here!”

• Jayce would probably try to invent something cool for the cat, like a heated bed or a high-tech collar.

Viktor

Viktor would be fascinated by your cat’s loyalty and behavior.

• The first time the cat growls at him, he tilts his head and says softly, “I suppose trust must be earned.”

• When the cat warms up, Viktor starts absentmindedly petting it while working, smiling softly when it purrs. “A loyal companion… quite remarkable.”

• He admires how the cat follows you everywhere, even into risky situations. “It seems I’m not the only one who values your presence so deeply.”

• Viktor would probably get distracted by the cat while working, letting it sit on his desk and bat at his tools.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be absolutely charmed by your cat and its devotion.

• The first time it hisses at her, she just smiles and steps back. “Fair enough—I’d probably be wary of me, too.”

• Once the cat accepts her, she’s all about giving it gentle head pats and sneaking it little treats.

• Caitlyn loves how the cat sticks with you everywhere, often teasing you like, “I think your companion’s better at keeping you safe than I am.”

• If the cat ever senses danger, Caitlyn takes it seriously, trusting its instincts completely.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be intrigued by your cat’s presence and loyalty.

• When the cat growls at her, she just chuckles and says, “Protective, aren’t we? I can respect that.”

• Once the cat warms up, she lets it sit in her lap during meetings, occasionally stroking its fur as she works.

• She admires the bond you have with the cat, seeing it as a reflection of your strength and loyalty. “A creature so devoted is rare. You must be someone truly special.”

• Mel would probably spoil the cat, commissioning a luxurious collar or bed for it.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would find your cat’s loyalty both amusing and impressive.

• The first time the cat hisses at her, she smirks and says, “A bold one. I like that.”

• Once the cat accepts her, she quietly grows fond of it, often letting it sit beside her during quiet moments.

• She respects how the cat stays by your side no matter what, especially in dangerous situations. “You’ve chosen your allies well—even the furry ones.”

• Ambessa would probably train the cat to follow commands, just to see how far its loyalty goes.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would immediately be soft for your cat.

• The first time it hisses at her, she’d laugh nervously and say, “Alright, tough guy—I’ll win you over eventually.”

• When the cat warms up, she’s constantly sneaking it treats and letting it curl up on her lap.

• Maddie loves how the cat is always by your side, often joking like, “You’ve got the best backup anyone could ask for.”

• If you’re ever upset, Maddie’s probably cuddling you and the cat at the same time, whispering, “We’re both here for you.”

Lest

Lest would be enchanted by your cat and its loyalty.

• When the cat growls at her, she just smiles and says softly, “It’s alright—I understand. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

• Once the cat warms up, she’s gently stroking its fur and murmuring little compliments like, “Aren’t you a beautiful one?”

• She admires how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, seeing it as a sign of your kind and dependable nature.

• Lest would quietly make sure the cat feels as loved and cared for as you are.

[lady-ashfade]

Mha Characters; Waitress/Waiter Au!!

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

WARNINGS: Waitress au, cute, I love this job but it sucks, smoking[Bakugo and you]

GENRA: Hcs/Concepts

Izuku Midoriya

He’s the type of co worker to be the helper if you need it, like working twice as hard along side of you. Not the half ass ones. Will sweep so hard and quickly- “Just trying to get us home as soon a possible.”

You honestly are jealous of his people skills, he smiles and it’s like money just appears in his pockets. He barely messes up, and some of the times he is even getting the plates off of the tables you are to busy to get.

“I can’t believe it’s so dead in here,” you whisper as you look around at the empty tables, only one table in the past hour.

“I enjoy it, gives us a break.” Izuku leans on the counter, sighing as he relaxes himself.

you stare at him. he is so pretty, uncanny how one person could be so perfect. You often find yourself messaging him, using random things for excuses to, and when you are paired together it makes the night so much easier.

You blink twice before looking away quickly to not get caught, clearing you throat before make sure everything is straightened and in place. “I didn’t know Superman needed a break.”

Izuku titled his head and opened his eyes, giving you a questionable look, “Superman?”

“You are unstoppable, Izuku. Honestly sometimes I swear you are too good at your job, makes the rest of us look like newbies.” you chuckle and grab the check for the table.

“So you think I’m charming?” He teases with a blush creep on his cheeks.

“Nauseously so,” you walk away with a giggle.

Katsuki Bakugo

You trained him, or at least partially. You have been there since a teen, and he joined when he entered college. He had no people skills, and even though he has grown he still gets prissy with costumers.

You still find yourself pushing him aside and talking to his table, then going up to him and yelling at him. But he makes it up with cleaning, like I mean he can carry so much and it’s so helpful.

Maybe you forget what comes on a meal, he will just walk by and say it, and walks back off. You write a order wrong? “Dumb ass, it doesn’t come with onions” since he knows the kitchen well, you are trying to get him to work back there.

“What the hell was that?” You shout as you push the door open, the cold air hitting you hard. Katsuki is leaning on the hard wall, a cigarette in his hand.

“She was a bitch, who yells at their waiter/ress for things you have no control over?” you groan at his words and glare at him.

“Katsuki, I can handle them. I’ve worked here a lot longer then you. Not only will you get in trouble later, i could also get in trouble. I appreciate you trying to help, but we can’t cuss at costumers.”

“I got it, don’t worry about getting in trouble. I will gladly get fired for cussing her out,”

You slap his shoulder, “I wouldn’t let you get fired, because I’ll miss you too bad.” You smile slightly up at him.

He chuckles deeply and rolls his eyes, “Yelling at me, then tell him you’ll miss me…You’re so confusing sometimes.”

you swipe the cigarette from his hands and take a drag of it, feeling the intoxication and burning, “Not exactly you, more like how much plates you can carry. My own personal bus boy.”

[skyrigel]

Ghost would def not say I love you first 👀 or would he ?

I say the former one !!!

Like Simon wouldn't say I love you first but that's not because he's not sure, because he's never ever been more sure of anything more than to spent the rest of his life with you.

But he just can't say it. It's not denial, he's not fighting off the feeling, it's a pointless resistance against you anyway. He's only trying to express it as he feels it, what if he says it and you don't get how deeply he's in love with you. What if it's hollow like the rest of him.

So instead, he kisses all his love to your lips, pours his love like in the way he pours milk in your cereal bowl, weaves the love in same way he braids your hair, or colours it with love like he paints your nails. He may or may not be a man with alot of words, but he's a man of action.

And when's better to finally say it aloud when there's a beautiful ring in his pocket and the man is on his knees, confessing right then.

[ruvviks]

finally found the time to draw beckett :^) he's one of the first (sort of) successful test subjects of arasaka's serpent projects but he doesn't go there anymore. got adopted into vulture's mercenary roster instead and is now one of her bloodhounds :^)

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @mojaves;

@shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption, @ncytiri;

@calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm, @strafethesesinners;

@fashionablyfyrdraaca, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian, @estevnys, @elgaravel;

@aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa, @userbatwoman

[copia]

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn't matter, let's get to know the person behind the blog <33

oh i always find these a challenge kjdjhjh thank you for sending!!

1. i chose the wrong degree (engineering) and long for the day i can start vet medicine because as much as i love a good circuit that's my true calling

2. when i'm not at uni i've got 2 cats and 1 dog :3 (all photos by my mother who recently discovered portrait mode)

3. the cat on the left (tommy) bit my hand at age 12 and left me with a perfect and prominent dracula scar right in the middle of it that shows no sign of fading

there's a bit of a theme to these random facts lmao

[cuntdevil]

★ TOUCHDOWN ON THAT PUSSY !

a good way to celebrate the victory of a game is to have a sweet little treat right after.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, satoru gojo & geto suguru, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5905 words !

╰┈➤ football player!gojo satoru & afab!reader (she/her) & football player!geto suguru, college football!au, threesome, some bantering on satosugu's part, teasing, oral through the panties, dry humping and groping, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, oral (female & male receiving), cum eating, satosugu kiss, not proofread, etc.

( author's note. ) i had a vision of geto licking the pussy clean right after gojo cums in it, so i had to make it a reality. im a whore & also wanted some boy on boy action so accept this because i feel like that's the only right way to do a threesome. especially with satosugu.

Gojo has a promising future ahead of him as he dashes across the football field on the ten second mark. He can’t hear a thing underneath his heavy football helmet, but everyone’s screaming is getting louder as they stand on the bleachers and egging him closer to touchdown. He’s unstoppable. His teammates back him up as they prevent the opposing team from laying a finger on him and if they get too close, Gojo’s an extraordinaire at ducking and dodging. 

An absolute fiend he is, blazing through the bright green grass like the roadrunner, swift on his feet as he’s so close to victory. His coach was right, the Racers were no joke as they gave them their most difficult game in the season. Now they’re at neck-and-neck, tied at 15. His team is depending on him to break this tie, to keep their winning streak going strong and he’d hate to disappoint.

The audience battles between watching the clock and the field, the six ticking down to a five. 

Five… They’re starting to have their doubts, dread creeping into their bones as they begin to believe he’s not going to make it. Knuckles turning white as Gojo continues to speed with the ball in his hand. 

Four… Someone is gaining up on him, only a few inches away from tackling him down until he’s beat down. There’s a stagger on his feet before he picks up the same moment. Three… Tw— It happens in a matter of a split second. With a force that could cause it to deflate, Gojo throws the ball down with his entire strength as he cheers, screaming through the helmet before the huge buzzer overhead goes off and blaring into plenty of ears. 

Their moment of apprehension is replaced with exhilaration as Gojo pulls off his helmet, revealing his white head of beautiful hair, shaking it as sweat beads down his face. His teammates all come to surround him, his coach getting into the mix as they use all of their strength to throw him in the air. The opposing side mopes, heading to their side as they grab their towels and huddle around each other. While disappointment fills their lungs as their coach tries to give words of wisdom, the other party celebrates.

It’s always been overwhelming, moments like this— especially one so big. Soon Gojo will be drafted, leaving college football to go professional and make it within the NFL. There’s already lots of chatter and noise as many people anticipate it. It feels incredulous, though he always expected it. He worked so hard for it and knew he deserved the best, but for it to become closer to him? It feels immaculate to see your dreams coming true before your eyes. They’ve happened to him aplenty, when he graduated high school and got drafted the first time. It closely resembles this, that tight feeling within his chest that’s suffocating him and close to putting him on the brink of death. 

To get to that spot right into the college he’s been wanting to attend since the moment he figured out what he wanted to pursue in life. Everything he put his eye on and decided he wanted, he got it. To know it was through his hard work and dedication to get here, it brings a huge smile on his face.

However, to say he did it all alone would be a lie and a huge disrespect to Geto's name. His close friend stuck with him through it all, holding the same ambitions simultaneously. He put in the same work as Gojo did, landing them both a spot on the same team.The one to pass him the ball and assisting in their victory. The duo was a force to be reckoned with— undeniably good with each other. 

The crowd slowly dissipated around Gojo, finally giving him the space he needed to catch his breath properly. Though, said friend and his coach stayed behind. Gojo extends his arms to be pulled into a tight hug. A retired player himself, the coach engulfs Gojo in pride and happiness for the youth. A burly chuckle that leaves his lips. “Proud of ya, son. You’re one of the strongest I’ve got blessed to work with—” Gesturing to Geto, he drags him into the hug as well. “— You, too, boy! You’ve both made me so proud.”

“Thank you, coach,” they say in unison. 

Out of the helmet, a few strands of Geto’s raven locks have left the band of his bun, the sweat making it stick to his head as he swipes them away. “We probably would’ve gotten our ass handed to us if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, ain’t that damn right!” his coach laughs. “Your football careers would’ve probably ended before they even officially started.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gojo jests, hands resting behind his head as he grins widely. “I’d’ve been fine without you.”

Slapping him in the back of his head as Gojo winces his pain, his coach chortles. “Your ass would’ve been in the ground, for sure, with that cocky attitude of yours.”

The coach leaves not too long afterwards before someone’s walking past the bleachers and onto the football field. You weren’t easily spotted at first, maneuvering yourself past hurdles of men as you can only muster up so many “excuse me’s” before you’re tired of the repetition. You’re wearing one of Satoru’s jerseys that he got tailored to fit you just right, it is hugging you and your curves that the football players that want to ogle are immediately deterred they see the number of just who you belong to. Geto spots you first, the white-haired man has his back turned as he grabs a few of his things and is ready to head to the locker room before he’s being nudged. “Your trophy’s arrived.”

Knowing exactly who he’s talking about, Gojo spins on his heel right as you’re easier to make out through the shortening distance. That boyish smile that graces his features as he turns into an absolute fool when you’re in his sights. He goes to close the gap, jogging to close it even sooner. You pick up your pace, landing in his arms as you’re quickly engulfed by his sweaty form. You inhale his scent, accustomed to the sweaty musk after a game. He plants a chaste kiss against your neck, humming as his grip tightens.

“You were great out there,” you breathe, arms wrapping around his neck before he detaches himself from yours. “It’s probably the best you’ve ever played.”

“Thanks, babe,” you murmurs, pulling you into a kiss. “Could’ve done infinitely better if you were out there on the field with me.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t get tired of that stale joke, do you?”

“Because I’m not joking,” he pouts. “If I got to chase after your fine ass out there, we would’ve beat them much faster than we did.”

Pinching his arm so that he can put you down, you immediately go to fix your shirt. You exhale, “Well, you have Geto out there with you. He’s got a nice bubble butt just for you to chase.”

Grimacing, Geto frowns as you come to approach him. He extends his arms to pull you in his embrace. “I don’t think I like your form of objectification. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees. “I don’t think I like your admittance that you’ve checked out my best friend.”

The hug between you and Geto lasts a little longer than it should, though shorter than your embrace with Gojo. Pulling away from the heat that Geto enfolds you in, you push at his chest as you giggle, kissing Gojo’s pouting cheek in reassurance. Your hands wrap around his waist, one lingering to his ass as you give it a few pats. “Don’t worry, babes. I prefer yours, anyway.” 

The field is diminishing as the three of you linger, the boys getting their things together. You planned on waiting for them not too far along, hanging with a bunch of your girl friends in a group, so that you can feel safer before you leave. Gojo comes to peck your lips once more. “I’ll message you when we’re ready, ‘kay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Call or text me if you need anything,” he presses.

“Of course, I will,” you assure him, puckering up your lips some more for more affection that he’s glad to give. With a few more farewells before he lets you leave, you’re throwing Geto a temporary goodbye before you’re sauntering down the field again, your hips swaying with every step you take. The two boys watch you leave before Geto’s glancing at Gojo. “Have you told her?”

He knows his best friend all too well, aware that he can prolong things to the absolute last second. And just as he suspected, Gojo shakes his head. “Nah, not yet.”

However, it still brings him to shock that he’d do it for something like this. Something you might not even agree to. “Why not?”

“Because I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he shrugs, his nonchalance picking at Geto’s annoyance. "Makes it sexier.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.”

“Satoru,” Geto digs, crossing his arms as the two finally make their way to the locker room. He can be such a cocky asshole sometimes, so sure of himself until he’s hearing the word ‘no’ and feeling like a fool. And in this case, Geto can also be one if you end up disagreeing. 

“She won’t! I promise you,” Gojo continues reassuring his best friend. He’s seen the way you interact with Geto. You’ve admitted your attraction towards the long-haired brunette before, when he vaguely tried to get your opinion on the proposition of a threesome with him. He never coined the term exactly, but he assumed that through your attraction, it would be something you’re interested in. “I know my girl better than anything. She’s down.”

Geto sighs as he decides to put his trust into Gojo instead of making the decision to delay things in itself. He’s said it before. I know my girl better than anything. While Gojo’s been wrong on plenty of things, so far, when it comes to you, Gojo’s an expert. Punching his arm to elicit a wince, white eyebrows furrowing before glaring at Geto. He doesn’t have to verbally say it, What was that for? 

Geto points in his face, brown eyes boring holes into Gojo’s blue. “You better be right because I’ll beat your ass if you’re not.”

—

From Gojo: hey, the locker room is empty now. just me and geto. come.

You furrow your eyebrows reading Geto’s name. Typically when the locker room is empty, it’s an open invite for sex. And if another person’s in there, it’s not entirely empty as he says it is.

To Gojo: geto?

Immediately, Gojo’s typing in. Three dots bouncing before your phone is vibrating in your hand once more.

From Gojo: just come. wanna talk about something with u

“Hey,” you call for the attention of the girls that around you at a picnic table. They were all nice to stay with you for the time being. “Gojo said he’s ready. I’m gonna go meet up with him.”

“Do you want us to come with?” one of them asks, eyes brightening up as she comes to stand. However, shaking your head, you stop her.

“No, I’m fine from here. Thank you so much, though!” you bid your farewells, showing your gratitude to them repetitively as you walk off. Then, you’re met with the silence of the night, hearing the chirps of cicadas and crickets deep in the grass and the sizzling of the overhead lights illuminating your path as the sky begins to darken. It’s getting chilly as you hold yourself, the short-sleeved jersey and the tight denim jeans barely doing a thing to conceal you and give you warmth. 

When you arrive at the locker room door, you know in a specific rhythm that immediately lets Gojo know that you’re here. Shortly enough, the door swings open as Gojo’s standing before you, dressed down in a pair of baggy gym shorts that stop below his knees and a muscle tee. He pulls you in by the waist, kissing you quickly and leading a path towards Geto. He sports a similar fit to Gojo’s, just replace the shirt with a regular band one. His hair back in a neater bun as he leans against the lockers, arms crossed and one leg on one of the seats. There’s a shift within the air as Gojo sits down next to his leg, making you cock an eyebrow as you grow nervous. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

“No,” Gojo denies. “Nothing’s wrong. Just need to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?” The tension in the air nips at your skin, bringing you to a comfort that you don’t like. Noticing this, Gojo puts his hand in yours, pulling you down onto his lap to put his lips on yours to ease it. Geto can only watch, shifting to hide the impending erection just in case this goes left. His moist pink lips on yours are sweet. They always are. Making you addicted to them and has you whining when he pulls away. 

“You trust me, right?” Gojo’s blue eyes stare into yours, searching for something that you can’t quite define. Yet, you nod because you do. You always have. “And you know that if you don’t want this, you can say no, right?”

“Want what—”

“If Geto were to kiss you right now,” Gojo interjects. “How’d you feel?”

“‘Toru,” you look at him in confusion, refusing to look over at Geto. “What are you getting at?”

“Man,” Geto finally speaks up. “I told you, you should’ve—”

However, he’s cut off with a hush from Gojo before his focus is right back to you. He takes a deep breath as you’re trying to get a hold of what’s happening before you. Your mind is going to a few possibilities before you land on the right one. But, in denial, you wait for Gojo to continue speaking. “If he were to touch you—” his hands start traveling all over you, from your shoulders down to your thighs to in between your stomach and to in between the crevices of your breasts. Your heart rate starts to increase as well as your breathing as you finally muster up the courage to glance over at Geto, whose eyes are already on you. “—touch you in the way I do. Make you feel good in the way, er, close to the way I do… Would you want that?”

Your eyes haven’t left Geto’s, mind finally wrapping around the current proposition. “You want a threesome?”

Glancing over at his friend, Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it, but we won’t do it if you don’t want to. If you say no—”

“No,” you say so abruptly before you’re sputtering on your words as Gojo’s immediately caught off guard. “Wait, I mean, yes. I agree.”

It takes a moment for either man to register that you’re agreeing to this. That you want to have a threesome. Gojo chokes out a laugh, a grin gracing his features. “You had me on a rollercoaster for a second.” 

“Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly. Geto inches closer to the two of you, hand pushing at the back of Gojo’s head. 

“Guess you were right,” the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “You do know your girl.”

— 

You never took your attraction towards Geto seriously. He was a sweet guy and often people have told you that you should’ve gone for him instead of Gojo. However, you have a type. And while Geto is an angel and if you were to date him, he’d treat you like royalty, you know Gojo’s the one for you. That’s why Gojo has so much trust in you. Knowing that despite it all, you’ll still run to him after this. That despite Geto’s hands on you right now, your back leans against him and holding onto his wrist as he’s got you secure in his hold.

His cock is painfully hard in his gym shorts, pressing into your back as you’re slouched off the seat. Gojo’s hand is snaked under your jersey, your bra hiked over your breasts as they’re pooled out for his enjoyment. Your breathing is heavy, dark nipples puckered and being played with. You’ve let out breathy moans and squeaky whines as the two men are determined to tease you to death. Despite your pleas, Geto continues to play with your pussy through the fabric of your panties, watching how it darkens as your juices soak through it. His thumb would prod at your clit, pressing down as your arousal keeps on coming and pushing through. Your sweet cunt would throb and clench for more, thighs tensing up as the boys sought after your torture. 

Your back arches as you plead, begging Geto to do more. “Please, Sug. Please.”

Then Gojo moves one hand to play with the band of your panties, the hem continuously snapping against your skin as your boyfriend lets Geto continue his teasing. Geto would be a liar to say he’s doing all of this because he loves to see you whine and writh from what he’s doing, but truthfully, it’s not. While he loves seeing how you get so worked up, he enjoys seeing how your pussy can develop so much slick. The bubbles that it forms as you’re just secreting so much that it comes to mess in between your thighs whenever you tighten them together to the point he has to pry your legs open once more. He should stop, his cock painfully hard and wanting nothing more than to empty himself inside of you, but no. Impatience never leads to anything good. 

It feels so good, having you buck your hips out, pressing your body into Gojo and squirming around. You don’t know what you’re doing to your boyfriend, rubbing against him in your lust-fogged mind as you can’t focus on the erection against your back. He wants nothing more than to have you. Fuck that tight pussy of yours and have his fill, but he won’t dare be too hasty for the sake of his best friend. The one down on his knees messing with your pussy as if it were a toy, resembling a cat. But, he himself is growing impatient and he’s afraid that with you pressed into him like this, he’s going to cum earlier than anticipated. 

“C’mon, Sug,” he emphasizes your nickname for Geto. “Give my girl what she wants.”

“Is that why your girl is such a spoiled brat?” the brunette chuckles. “Always giving into what she wants?”

You whine and pout at him Geto. “‘m not—”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees, turning your head to face him and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. “Maybe if you were more giving, you’d have a girl already.”

You find it obnoxious how even in a moment like this, they find a way to banter with each other. It makes you frown as you jut your hip out forward. “Stop arguing and do something already.”

Finally does Geto inch in closer to your pussy, fingers prodding at the hem of your panties, but not moving it. You can feel his breath against your covered cunt, breathing steadily while you feel like an erratic mess. “And there you go proving me right,” he chuckles. 

His tongue presses against your core, not removing your panties as you hoped, but he presses into your cunt deep that it tickles your folds and has you jolting in Gojo’s arms. You can hear a soft fuck leave Gojo’s lips as he bucks his hips out. Hooded eyelids with his sapphire blue eyes peering down at you as yours are shut now. 

Your braids tickle his bare skin, and surely a bit disheveled at the naughty actions you’re partaking in tonight. However, he can ignore the scratching as he watches Geto enjoy the taste of your pussy, sucking up your slick through the fabric of your panties. It’s a lewd sight that he can’t help but chuckle at, pushing you more into his tongue as Geto’s arms come to grip your thighs and pull you closer to the edge. 

One hand traverses to press a thumb into your clit while he laps at your panties, sucking at it hard to drag your juices out of it. You never thought you’d have found it so hot for a man to eat you out like this, it's enough being able to have you moaning like this. Your folds feel sticky as you leak and leak into your underwear. However, it’s still not enough, your body begging and aching for more to be done to you. You throw your head back, it nearly bangs into Gojo’s as you whimper out. You manage to maneuver a leg around Geto’s shoulder, bringing him closer to your core.

He’s addicted to your taste already, moaning as he feels you wrap yourself around him, slotted in between you and your boyfriend’s legs. Grunting and groaning, his cock strains inside his pants, his pre staining his boxers and surely to show through his shorts. For a girl that’s not even his to have him feeling this way, addicted off of something— someone— that’s not his. 

“Fuck,” he pulls himself off of you, leaving you unsatisfied and wanting more. He pulls your legs off him rather abruptly as he comes to his feet. He doesn’t have to say a word to Gojo, one of his hands already disappearing into the band of your panties to shove two fingers inside of you. It has you screaming out in the locker room, your cries echoing loudly. They can only hope and pray that the janitors on the night shift don’t come inside anytime soon to stop them. 

The stretch is somewhat painful, Gojo’s fingers are long and they hit deep inside of you, touching at your g-spot. He’s easy on you as Geto shuffles with his pants, pulling at the tie and letting it drop to the ground along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. He differs from Gojo, where your boyfriend has more length to him, Geto has more girth. His shaft is darker, a fat cock that is slightly over the average. His balls hang heavy as his happy trail is carefully trimmed and is wavy. The only thing you can say that the two resemble is that they’re both cut, no mushroom head to fill you up. 

He inches towards you. The fingers stuffed inside you start to move, your walls wrapping around them greedily as your pussy is so responsive. Your juices pooling down to the base of his fingers and dripping down at the palm of his hands and trickling his wrists. It’s a reason why he loves your pussy so much, so reactive and always soaked. 

Geto’s hand wraps around his length, using his pre to spread it around as he pumped it a few times. With his free hand, he comes to caress your cheek, pulling your head closer to him as he pets and touches you. Your skin his smooth, feeling the short and soft hairs as you react immediately to his soft touch. You relax in Geto’s hold as his cock’s so close to your face, pumping himself that your eyes flicker from his down to his length and back. 

“Look at you,” he says, his voice always so smooth that it could talk someone into murder. “Such a pretty little thing looking to get fucked by another man, one wasn’t enough.”

Gojo clears his throat, but Geto scoffs. “Don’t ruin the moment. Remember, you’re the one to first suggest it to me.”

That piece of information sparks your attention that Geto notices it. He chuckles, his hand grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look up at him even more. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend here wanted to see you get ruined by another man. He’s just as nasty as you are.”

You clench around Gojo’s fingers, a coil forming in your stomach as you try to look back at your beloved. However, Geto forces you to look at him. “Aht aht, look at me, dear. Look at the man that’s gonna stuff your face full of his cock.”

His tip kisses your bottom lip first, smearing his translucent pre on them before he props to the opening. Your mouth opens, but not enough for it to fit. You look up into his brown eyes, purposely teasing as you lick a small stripe on his tip. He shudders at the sensation, but his voice doesn’t falter when he says, “Don’t be stubborn. Open up some more.”

“Oh, just like you made me wait,” your retort has Gojo chuckling, him moving a few of your braids to whisper in your ear, “Oh, be a good girl for Suguru, babe.”

His fingers press deep into your pussy then, having you immediately dropping the act as you mewl and quickly coming to obey your boyfriend’s words. Opening your mouth wider for Geto, the head comes to rest on your tongue as you lull it out. He tsks at your obedience for your boyfriend, finding it cute yet annoying in a circumstance like this. “If I remember correctly, you were the one to agree to this.”

Then, he shoves his cock inside of you, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and tear up. Your cry out is muffled as you’re forced to take the whole of him before he’s pulling out completely. “So, like your boyfriend said,” he pants. “Be a good girl for me, babe.”

Shortly after is the sound of squelching heard, Gojo’s fingers starting to rapidly fuck into your pussy, the impact of his fingers inside of you, creating such a lewd sound in the night. In another hour, the lights will go pitch dark, so the three of you better be done by then unless you all plan on fucking in it. Your juices pour from your pussy, sticky strings forming simultaneously as Geto enters your mouth once more. 

This time, he’s easier on you, the bottom of his shaft, grazing your tongue as his balls come to hit at your chin when the base hits your lips. He stays there for a moment, adjusting you to him before he feels your mouth closing around him completely. Your face is becoming teary-stained as you momentarily shut them before they flutter back open, the sting not dissipating, however.

You moan around his length, your tongue flattening out against the bottom of his shaft as it comes to swirl around it. You try to focus on his cock while your boyfriend obliterates your pussy with his fingers, bucking your hips into him while doing so in a visceral need. You grind down into him as one hand comes to hold onto Geto’s waist as you slowly begin to bob your head. Geto hisses at the sight before him, looking down on you as he comes to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. 

You look so pretty like this. Laid up against your boyfriend who’s got you weak in the knees as he fucks into your pussy with his digits. Your sweet nectar dripping down onto the bench and floor as you make a mess of yourself and him. How you manage to stay so level headed keeping up the pace of sucking Geto’s cock, breathing in through your nose as you moan out and send vibrations that go straight to his cock. You’re a dirty little vixen, taking them both like this. It makes the brunette want to cum inside your mouth and your boyfriend wants this to last forever.

His cock’s grown sensitive under the restraints of his pants, pressed into him and rutting like the needy girl that you are. He’s held himself back for so long that he just can’t anymore. His fingers leave you, making you a needy mess as you whine in an attempt to ask for him back. However, he’s lifting you up, pushing you deeper against Geto’s cock and forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth. Still, you behave so well that you continue to suck at it despite it hitting the back of your throat. 

Gojo pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, letting them pool at his feet in a hurry to have himself completely sheathed inside you. Cock bearing free, the tip is red and angry with need that he doesn’t make haste in pulling you down onto him. First, you feel his length against your folds, how he’s grabbing at your hips and bringing you up and down. He glides his length in between your pussy lips, coating it in your juices in preparation before he brings his tip at your entrance, holding his cock to gently push in.

Geto eases himself, pulling you off his cock to watch you adjust to your boyfriend. Watching how your face twists and contorts in pain as you sink down on his length, taking inch by inch. You whimper and pant at the stretch, still holding onto Geto as your nails dig into his skin. When you’re fully sheathed, taking every last bit of Gojo, you’re taking heavy breaths as your boyfriend plants kisses along your neck. “I know, I know,” he whispers into your ears. “You did so good for me.”

“Feel so full,” you babble out, whining out as Gojo’s hands are at your waist, starting to bob you up and down on his length. It’s then that Geto’s back inside your mouth, taking control as he knows that you’ll now be unable to focus. He grabs a handful of your braids, pulling your mouth onto his cock. Eyes mouth shut as you moan out at both intrusions, you let your body be used for their pleasure. Your body bouncing as both men fuck into you. All that can be heard is their moans against the slapping of skin and your muffled noise. Your hands are digging so much into Geto’s skin that you might draw blood, but he can’t find it within himself to care when you’re making him feel so good. 

“Shit,” he curses, eyes shut as his mouth hangs open, hips rutting into your mouth. Saliva begins to drip from the corners as his fingers dig into your scalp, both hands preoccupied in them. Gojo’s lips are on your bare skin as he uses his strength to fuck you onto him, your pussy clenching around him as the slapping of skin sounds the entire locker room. The stench of your pussy fills their air, your smell so potent that Gojo recognizes it within a matter of seconds. It has his chest grumbling out as if he’s a feral animal, burying his nose deep into your skin as he sucks into it. 

Your pussy clenches and pulsates as you didn’t know it’d feel so good to be used like this, thinking that the videos you’ve seen of women being railed by two men to be an act. However, Geto and Gojo’s doing such a good job, ten times better than what you’ve seen before. Saliva pools heavily in your mouth, escaping it and pouring down your chin as you can barely keep your eyes open. Your mind is filled with everything dirty, not managing to stay focused on a single one as a familiar band reaches you. 

Your moans become more high-pitched and you start slapping Geto’s side. Gojo curses the signs heavily there. “S-shit,” he stutters as he feels himself twitch inside you, his orgasm approaching him as well. “She’s gonna cum.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, only fucking into your mouth harder and egging on Gojo as his thrusts up into you become brutal. Your sounds become choppy as he brings you into a quick release, your cream coating his cock in a matter of seconds as he continues fucking with a vigor. The tears that Geto wiped away are back as your sensitive folds become overworked as Gojo doesn’t stop until he’s relieved himself inside you. 

His leg tenses up before that sweet cunt of yours is milking him, flexing and contracting as your mouth is full of Geto’s load inside of you. He pants heavily as he watches your body convulse the longer Gojo stays inside you. It’s as if the three of your bodies were in sync with each other. Gojo emptying himself in you to the brim that his seed starts pushing him out. He drags you off his cock and pulls you back into him further as he can no longer stay upright. He brings you to lay against his back with him and it’s such a sight to behold that Geto’s cock hardens again in a manner of seconds. Your cunt is open and spread, just his for the taking. He can’t help himself for falling onto his knees and pushing you open.

Feeling him against both of you, you and Gojo bring your heads up to see Geto right at your cunt. It takes you too long to process, unable to utter a word and only able to cry out when you feel his lips enveloping your labia. Your folds were covered in yours and Gojo’s cum, a delicacy he wanted to try and uncaring for the man that laid claim on your cunt with his seed. Take it as him cleaning you up, a thank you for letting him have you in such a vulnerable way. 

You jolt in Gojo’s arms, but he holds you tight, his cock hardening once more himself as he watches his best friend eat away at both of your releases. You’re sensitive, he knows, but fuck is this hot. You thrash in his arms, crying out but never saying no. The only thing Gojo does to soothe you are the sweet kisses and an infinite circle drawn into your skin, telling you that you can take this. Geto doesn’t pull away until your cunt is shining and gets rid of the white.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as he’s back to sitting up and caught into the spur of the moment, catching Geto off guard when he says, “let me have a taste,” before his mouth is on him and he can taste himself and you on his best friend’s lips. You find yourself stuck in between the homoerotic scene shared amongst the two best friends, your body humming back to life that you mewl out. It’s long before they’re pulling away, pink tongues dancing against each other as the flavor is embedded into their taste buds.

Heavy panting and breathing as none of you say a word, simply digesting everything that happened. However, the jingle of keys are enough to have you all rejuvenated with energy as the door swings open. The unsuspecting voice calling out as they still see that the lights are on and a few bags thrown down haphazardly. They must’ve been wearing headphones to not hear the raunchy actions taking place prior. 

“Hello,” a voice of a man in his late forties. “Is anyone here?”

( author's note. ) SATOSUGU MY BELOVEDDDD ‼️

[majinbangus]

was tempted to write more of this idea of simon x single mom!reader. ty to @weemansoap for the meet cute idea. mention of past abuse/domestic violence in one paragraph, nothing graphic.

-> more here

There's a young lad that can't be more than five or six years of age crouched behind the overgrown bush near the entryway that leads to his flat complex. A strange sight to come home to after months away on deployment. One he's not sure what to make of yet, but Simon approaches, coming up on the kid's blindspot. He doesn't see any parents around. Best find out what this kid is up to.

"Oi, what're you doin' out 'ere, lad?"

The kid startles comedically, nearly falling on his rump, but he manages to catch himself before looking up at Simon, a toothy, mischievous grin on his face. "I'm gonna scare Mama!"

Simon raises an eyebrow. "Your mum doesn't know you're here?"

"No." The boy giggles. "I ran ahead while she was putting on her shoes."

"You shouldn't do that," Simon says, though not quite admonishing him. "You probably scared your mum enough pulling that stunt."

The lad frowns. "I only ran away. What's so scary about that?"

A lot of things. Simon remembers his own mother frantically calling out his name once upon a time. The fear in her eyes. The trembling grip when she finally found him again. The sobbing. The apologies. The promises to be a better mother. The pain she experienced when his father blamed her for losing track of a son he didn't care about. Pain that was Simon's fault. Pain that his father later inflicted on him.

Lots of things are scary when a child runs away. But this lad doesn't need to know the extent.

"Your mum loves you, yeah?" He waits until the kid nods, continuing, "Then it'll always scare her when you runaway. Not knowing where you are. Thinking she lost you. Would it scare you if you lost her?"

"Oh..." The kid looks at the ground, penitent. "I didn't think of it that way."

Simon grunts, studying the lad, debating with himself before deciding fuck it. He clicks his tongue twice and the lad looks up. "Which floor you live on, mate? I'll bring you back to your mum."

"3C."

Simon hums thoughtfully. That one was previously vacant last time he was here. "Right next to me."

The lad perks up. "Really?"

He nods, gesturing towards the building, ready to guide the kid back home, but a voice suddenly rings out like a shock of ice water running down his back.

"Simon, you stay right there, young man!"

For a brief- very brief- second, Simon tenses up. He hasn't heard that angry motherly tone stemmed from fear directed at him since he was a boy. Part of him feels reprimanded, as if he needs to bow his head and meekly apologize for upsetting his mother, fleeting memories of his mum scolding him flashing through his brain. But the feeling quickly dissipates when he sees you, frazzled and anxious, running towards him like an unstoppable force that reminds him of the ocean wind.

It's a stunning sight, Simon notes absently; however, he doesn't take any longer to admire the view you make running towards him. Or, well, the boy. Rather than looking at Simon, you're looking at the lad he's been talking to, a wild, worried look in your eyes the closer you get, glancing at Simon quickly, warily, then back at the boy, the look of a mother bear ready to defend her cub gracing your features, and that's when it clicks.

Ah. Simon.

Your boy's name is Simon.

Funny, that. It almost makes him snort.

The lad in question doesn't seem to register your near feral state, but Simon steps away from your wayward son as to not aggravate you any further.

"Mama, I made a friend!" Your son announces proudly once you rush up to them. "He lives next to us! In, um..."

"3A," Simon interjects when the kid falters. You glance at him in acknowledgment before turning back to your child.

"Oh? How sweet." You smile tightly at the lad, giving him a subtle once over for anything out of place, and reach out to gently tug him further away from Simon, crouching to pick him up. "It's good to make friends with the neighbors, honey, but you can't go running off like that. I was worried when you took off without warning."

The boy in your arms looks properly contrite, bowing his head and wrapping his arms around your neck, voice muffled as he apologizes, "I know. I'm sorry, Mama. I won't runaway ever again. Promise. The nice man told me you would be upset."

"Did he?" You look at Simon, gaze still guarded but there's a hint of something grateful in your eyes. "Well, he was right. I was upset, but as long as you keep your promise, you're forgiven."

His little name twin perks up, giggling and hugging you tighter. "I will! I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, hon." You give your son a tender look, pressing a kiss to his temple, but it drops once you look at Simon, studying him with a cautious look. You hesitate for a second longer before adjusting your hold on your boy then hold a hand out, giving him your name and your gratitude. "3A? Are you new? I haven't seen you around... Regardless, thank you for keeping an eye on this one. I hope he didn't cause you any trouble."

"I travel for work." He grips your hand and gives it a squeeze, "And he didn't. Your boy's a good lad. I'm Simon."

Your eyebrows lift, mouth dropping slightly agape and hand lingering in his perhaps a tad too long before you recover, letting go, and smile sweetly at your boy who stares up at him with wide, awed eyes. "My name is Simon, too!"

You don't make a sound, but Simon can see you shake with silent laughter, your eyes sparkling for the child in your arms. He catches your eye, and you tilt your head with a hopeful, doe-eyed look for him to indulge your boy a little longer.

Ah, what the hell.

"Really?" Simon raises a disbelieving brow. "Since when?"

"Since I was born!" The boy laughs and you shoot Simon a genuine smile. "You're funny, Simon."

Oh, Johnny could tell your boy just how funny he could really be. He can already hear the groan his sergeant would give.

Don't put the poor lad through that, LT.

He's not hearing any complaints, Johnny. The lad seems to appreciates his humor. And you do too from the looks of it.

"It's a fine name, innit?"

"Uh-huh! Mama named me!"

He switches to look at you. "That right?"

Your smile turns a hint shy under his attention, but you nod with a noncommittal hum, adding nothing more to the conversation. Instead, you start your own. An abrupt, obvious dismissal. "Well, sorry to hold you up, Simon, but we should get going. This Simon needs to go school supply shopping."

Your son pouts, but otherwise doesn't complain. Good lad.

"Say goodbye to," your eyes wash over him, darting up and down, properly taking him in, "Big Simon, Simon."

A rush of amusement passes through him. That's a new one. Not the worst thing he's ever heard, but certainly accurate. He might even like it.

Big Simon tilts his head, raising a brow, and immediately you fluster at the nickname you've given him, eyes widening and head ducking down so you don't have to look him in the eyes, but it's too late to take it back. Little Simon is already waving goodbye at him.

"Bye, Simon, it was nice to meet you!"

There's a flash, and for a moment, Simon sees another young lad waving at him in another mother's arms, another Riley's voice echoing in his ear, asking him when he's gonna settle down, but then they're gone in a blink and he's looking at you and Little Simon again.

It almost makes him pause, but Simon forces them out of his mind and focuses on you and the boy in your arms.

"Nice to meet you too, kid." He gestures to you next. "Be good for your mum. She's a lovely lady, and lovely ladies deserve the best, yeah?"

Your son agrees with an enthusiastic nod, but while he remains oblivious to your flustered state, Simon feels an unfamiliar sort of satisfaction when you stutter out your own goodbyes, leaving him to ponder on things he hasn't thought of in years.

Settle down, huh? That's not for him, but looking at you and your lad...

Simon can almost see the appeal in a domestic life.

-

wrote this kinda sleepy, idk how I feel about it hope its alright tho

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[rrrrinmaru]

calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw)

wc: 4.3k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, blowjobs, skull fucking, orgasm denial, slight spanking (ass and pussy) brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // part 2 here

It starts, as most things do with Sylus, an incredibly poor decision on your part. 

It can’t be helped—when Sylus smirks at you, one eyebrow raised as he gives you a challenging look, you know it’s only going to end in either one of both ways. You taking him up on the bet, or the both of you in a training room with you trying your damned best to figure out how many bones of his you can break.

This time, he hadn’t even disclosed what the prize would be. “Patience, dollface,” he murmured when you told him to lay the terms out upfront. “Isn’t it fun when you don’t know everything?”

“And I suppose it’s fun for you to keep me in the dark?” Control freak, you thought to yourself, but the bet was simple and there was no way you would lose. 

Sylus had shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless pretense. 

It didn’t matter. You were confident. You were going to win.

==

“I gotta go with A,” Luke says slowly, smacking his lips as he speaks. “I like the spices. No clue what’s in it though—pepper, and er, I’m going to go with cinnamon? Or something similar?”

You could strangle him. Who the fuck puts cinnamon in tomato and eggs? You didn’t even see Sylus go near that section of the spice cabinet. 

“Do you even know what cinnamon tastes like?” You can’t help but ask. 

Luke licks his lips again. “Yeah, I ate a whole spoonful of cinnamon once because Kieran dared me to, and I was out of it for days. Boss got really mad, haha, remember that?”

Sylus sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He choked,” he says unhelpfully when you look to him for more information. 

“He exhaled cinnamon for what felt like hours after that,” Kieran notes from the side. “I wanted to get a scan of his lungs to see how tainted from cinnamon they were, but Boss grounded us.”

“Anyways, it may not be cinnamon, but it’s definitely a c-something,” Luke declares confidently. “I like it. A is the winner for me.”

“Cilantro,” Kieran tells him. You can’t read his expression through the fox mask, but you like to think he’s rolling his eyes. There’s exasperation in his voice that reeks of an older brother forced to reckon with the stupidity of a younger sibling, an unstoppable force crashing headfirst into an immovable object. 

Luke snaps his fingers, leaning forward to spoon another mouth of scrambled egg into his mouth. “It’s good. Who made this one?”

“I have to vote first,” Kieran reminds him. “But I’ll go with A too. It’s saltier. I prefer things with a stronger taste.”

“Hm.” Sylus turns to look at you, cocking his head. “It appears we have a unanimous decision. Our fear of needing a tie-breaker game didn’t even materialise.”

You stay silent. Your arms are folded across your chest, and you get the errant thought of whether you could stamp on his shoe hard enough to break his big toe. Probably not, but giving up without even trying is a defeatist attitude. 

“Woah,” Luke says, looking furiously between the both of you. “Boss made this?”

Kieran suddenly goes very silent. He brings a fist up to his mouth and starts coughing lightly, but he also resembles a cat attempting to cough up a hairball.

“I did,” Sylus replies, looking quite pleased. “Surprised?”

“Er,” Luke says simply. “Er, congrats. Kieran, do you know how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre?”

Kieran coughs again. “I’ll do it on you if you do it on me first.”

“Deal.” Luke hurries to stand, his chair screeching against the floorboards from the strength of his push. “Can we excuse ourselves? Our role here is done, right?”

Sylus jerks his head at the exit, and the both of them scramble to the door. As they leave, you think you can hear Luke mutter something that sounds like “I didn’t know I would like soapy eggs, but there’s a first for everything, right?”

Kieran shoves him in the shoulder in response as they both leave. And Kieran goes to great pains to ensure the door is closed, firmly, behind him. 

“Let me try that,” you demand, reaching for Luke’s chopsticks left on the edge of the plate. 

A strand of twisting red energy wraps around your wrist, yanking it to a stop.

“There are clean chopsticks,” Sylus chides. From across the kitchen, a covered bowl and a pair of chopsticks are brought over by tendrils of red and black energy. 

He leans back, hips pressed against the counter as he collects the bowl and chopsticks. The lid lifts of its own accord and floats over to rest on the nearby countertop. 

Sylus picks up a piece of egg and holds it out to you.

“… You made a separate serving for me?” 

“I had my suspicions. If I won, you would have demanded a taste test to ensure I didn’t rig the competition.” Sylus tilts his head, as if daring you to disagree. “Was I right?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward to take the piece of egg into your mouth. Your lips close around the end of the chopsticks, and you stay like that for a moment, looking up at Sylus from under your eyelashes. 

Sylus’ gaze deepens. 

You pull off, leaving the chopsticks wet with your saliva as you chew on the food in your mouth. It’s good. Pretty good. Salty, but in a good way. It would go excellently with a fresh bowl of rice.

You’re actually kind of irritated. Why is Sylus good at making scrambled eggs and tomato? Did he pencil that into his busy schedule—illicit trading activities at 10 am, cooking lessons at 12 pm, a shoot out in a back alleyway at 3 pm, and prowling the streets of the N109 Zone from 11 pm to 4 am like some kind of avenger?

“It’s not bad,” you admit mulishly. “But it’s not better than my cooking. I’d say it’s at the same level.”

“Crowd opinion begs to differ. There’s no shame in losing to someone better, sweetie.”

Oh, you’ve just about had it with him. But a bet is a bet, and Sylus won without any obvious cheats. Luke enjoying the soapy taste of cilantro is something you could never have predicted; if Sylus used this fact to his advantage, you can’t even hold a grudge against him. You would have done the same.

“Give me that,” you say, holding a hand out for the bowl and chopsticks. “So, what’s the prize?”

Sylus doesn’t hand you the bowl immediately. He puts the chopsticks into his mouth, licking them clean before dipping them into the bowl again and picking out another piece of egg. He holds it out.

You lean forward, of course, lips parted as you expect him to feed it to you.

Instead, he turns the chopsticks around and places the egg into his mouth. He hums as he chews on it, nodding like he’s pleased at the taste. 

You snap your jaw shut. You give him a dirty look, pressing forward to brace your palms against the countertop, on either side of his hips. Like this, he’s trapped. 

Your chest is pressed up against him. Your hips align with his. You go on the balls of your feet, forcing him to lift the bowl and chopsticks higher so he doesn’t hit you in the face.

“You think you’re so funny,” you grumble, staring him down. “Bet, reward, now. Tell me what it is so I can be mentally prepared.”

Sylus doesn’t respond at first. He glances down at you, amusement written all over his face, and lets go of the bowl. Strands of energy catch it, bringing it to rest on the counter behind him. The chopsticks are brought along as well, leaving him empty handed.

“You’re standing in a dangerous position.” He puts the knuckle of his index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. “If you offer yourself up like this, I’ll take advantage.”

He tilts his hips forward, rolling intently against your abdomen. The prominent bulge presses into your lower stomach, right above where your womb is, and you flush scarlet.

You move to pull back, but Sylus moves one hand lightning fast, reaching behind to cup the curve of your ass and pressing you even tighter against the hard line of his arousal through his slacks.

He even squeezes, eyebrows rising in a challenging fashion as he waits to see how you’ll respond. 

You know he just wants to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately, it’s working. Your insides clench uncontrollably, wanting to cling tightly to something. 

Somehow, Sylus always succeeds at making you feel empty.

“As if you don’t take advantage on the daily.” You shift your stance until your thighs are spread around Sylus’s leg. He watches you adjust yourself, that mildly interested look affixed on his face as you straddle his thigh. 

Once you’re satisfied, you roll your hips forward, grinding down on the thick thigh to put pressure against your core. It’s a syrupy heat, starting from your tailbone and crawling up your spine. You press further into Sylus’s growing hardness, and he lets out a pleasant hum, tilting his head back to soak in the weight against his cock.

His fingers tighten against your ass. His grip is heavy, holding you tightly enough that you wonder if they’ll leave bruises against your skin. Five pretty bruises, black and blue on your ass. 

“Harder,” he coaxes hoarsely. “You can do better than that. What are they teaching Hunters these days?”

Your thighs squeeze threateningly around him. But that puts pressure on your clit, making pleasure surge deliciously inside you and you do it again—Sylus seems to catch on and he pulls you along the length of his thigh with the hand on your ass.

“Definitely not how to ride the unspoken ruler of the N109 Zone,” you shoot back breathlessly.

He lets out a startled laugh. “You flatter me, sweetie.”

“Stop evading the question,” you remind him, even as you steadily roll your hips against his thigh. Slow, regular grinds as you rub your cunt against his pants. You wonder if your pussy is wet enough to leak through your panties. You wonder if your panties are drenched, sticking to your thighs. You wonder if you’re making his pants damp, and whether he can feel it leaking through to his skin.

Judging from the way he suddenly grips your ass with more force at a particularly smooth slide, you think he might. 

“Remind me, what question were we speaking of?”

“Bet. Reward.” You slide one hand across his abdomen, stopping right over his belt buckle. The nail of your index finger catches against the metal—this isn’t the first time you’ve wished you had some kind of Evol that involved the manipulation of metal. “Want me to go on my knees?”

The pad of his thumb smooths over your lower lip. 

“Should I put this cute mouth to good use? I think I should,” Sylus murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. “But let’s talk about the bet first. The reward is simple.”

His other hand skates lightly along your outer thigh. Light as a feather, his fingers skimming along your skin so gently that it makes you itch. You almost want him to press hard, the same way he’s gripping your ass, instead of this light, itchy sensation spreading across your body. 

His fingers creep up, running under the hem of your dress. They trace the edge of your panties, nails scratching faintly against the cotton. 

“I get to do whatever I want with you for the next twenty-four hours,” he says, voice curling with satisfaction. His eyes are creased slightly, the smile sinking through his gaze. As if to drive his point home, he pointedly looks you up and down, dragging his gaze over every inch of your body. 

He’s lucky. If you were still clear-headed, you would have scoffed and told him to change the bet. Sylus might have convinced you after a while, but it would have taken time. At least half an hour of convincing, you reckon, with lips on your neck and fingers down your panties to get you worked up enough to say yes to a bet as insane as that.

Twenty-four hours? To do whatever he wants? 

Now, with your drenched pussy and your throbbing clit, both just begging for attention from him—this plan sounds pretty good. With the way his fingers playfully run across your panties, the tip of his thumb glancing off your swollen clit then darting away, as if it was an accident, as if he didn’t intend to do that, when you both know damn well he’s very acquainted with your clit—

“Go on,” you gasp, chasing after his sly fingers. Pressure, you need more pressure. If he squeezes your clit between his fingers, even through the wet cotton of your panties, it might be enough. “What do you want me to do?”

“Choices, choices. That mouth looks hungry for something, doesn’t it?” He presses his thumb into your clit harshly, making your body jerk at the sudden burst of electricity that surges through you. Sylus rubs it languidly, watching you shiver on his thigh, then he draws that hand away and brings it to his face. 

You watch, pupils dilated and mouth open as he lifts his thumb to his nose and inhales deeply. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he rubs the pad of his thumb on his tongue. Behind you, his other hand flexes, tightening his hold on your ass. 

“Mm,” he hums, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. “Delicious as always, sweetie. You’ve completely wet your panties.”

“Sylus,” you whine, pulling insistently at his belt. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll just do whatever I want to do.”

“How naughty. Thinking of breaking the rules of the bet this early?” His hand leaves your ass and you almost move to slide off, but there’s a sudden sharp sound and a stinging pain—your cheeks turn red at how that spank made your insides tighten up. “On your knees, dollface. Show me what that talented mouth of yours can do.” 

You go, the tips of your ears blushing when you see the blatant wet spot on his slacks your greedy pussy left on him.

==

Sylus uses your mouth like a fleshlight. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty, mouth open and wet, teeth hidden behind your lips as he holds your head in place and fucks into your mouth. Saliva pools in your mouth, your tongue numb from how loose you’re trying to keep your muscles. You just need to be there, fingers locked around Sylus’ ankles, knees spread on the ground and your arousal dripping on the floorboards—

“Good girl,” Sylus croons, head tilting back to expose the long line of his neck as his hips snap forward. “So fucking obedient for me, aren’t you? Tongue out, sweetie, let my cock slide right in—mmhmm, that’s right, you know what I like, don’t you?”

His fingers are tangled in your hair. There’s no gentleness in the way he holds you there—his grip on your hair is tight, your strands circling his fingers at least twice. He’d stroked your hair right at the beginning, when you were sliding to your knees and dragging the zipper of his pants down with your teeth. Then he’d wound your hair around four of his fingers once, twice, twisting his wrist, pulling sharply so you’d feel the strain at your scalp as you licked up the length of his cock. 

He’d told you to clean it up, so you did. You flattened your tongue along the thick line of his cock and you dragged it up, eyelashes fluttering as you traced the fat protruding vein under the head of his cock. You got his cock nice and slick, shiny from spit and precum. 

And now he’s fucking into your mouth, salty precum dripping down your throat as your cunt clenches around nothing. He grunts, a low punched-out sound that makes your clit throb. You’re the reason he looks so disheveled, sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows, slacks pulled open just enough for you to slip his cock out and suck on it—

The worst thing about Sylus, you think in a haze, the heavy weight of a fat cock in your mouth so all-encompassing that you don’t have many brain cells left for clear thought, is that he loves to talk. He can’t keep his fucking mouth shut, especially during sex. 

“Look at you,” he pants, voice gravelly from arousal. His thrusts are becoming more haphazard, losing the regularity from seconds ago. There’s a familiar stutter and his cock pulses on your tongue, the fat head going so far down your throat you almost seize up, but you hold it back. You can take it. You want to take it. “Do you want it in your throat or on your face?”

You make a noise, the sound muffled from Sylus’ cock. He laughs, a breathless sound, and the ache in your scalp intensifies. Oh, he’s close. 

“You’ll have to speak up, dollface.”

The whine that leaves your lips is louder this time, your fingers tightening around Sylus’ ankles. If your nails dig into the skin, leaving trails of scratch marks, all it does is make Sylus groan, hips jerking as he slams into your throat. 

“Hm, I can’t hear you,” he notes, eyes glinting as he looks down at you. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You have to take whatever I give you, sweetie. Open that throat up for me, nice and pretty—ngh, fuck—”

You bare your teeth just enough to scrape the underside of Sylus’ cock. He’s not afraid to mix his pain with his pleasure, and the sting of teeth biting at his sensitive length while he fucks into your face is something he’s told you is addictive. You know he likes it. You know it makes him tremble, and you see it in his crimson eye when he hunches over, abdomen tightening as his cock twitches. 

“Close,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Suck on it, sweetie. You have to work for the reward you want. I don’t—haaah, fuck, I don’t give handouts.”

You obey, eyes closing instinctively as you suck on his cock. His cock is leaking badly, precum sliding down your throat. You swear you can feel the head of his cock all the way down, right to the base of your throat, right at your clavicle. It truly feels like he’s hitting it that deep, bruising the insides of your mouth and throat until you won’t be able to eat right or breathe right for days. 

You swallow desperately, throat working furiously around the head of his cock, that tight wet heat that drives him crazy, and he bites out a curse as his hips jerk forward, cock throbbing as come spills into your mouth. 

He doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking into your mouth, hips pumping as he slides his cock back and forth on your tongue. You suck at his cock, swallowing mouthful and mouthful of come down your throat. Your entire world narrows to a pinpoint, to the grounding weight of his pulsing cock on your tongue, the ache in your mouth, the sting of your scalp—there might be tears in your eyes, or sweat from overexertion, but your vision is blurry when you look up and watch Sylus watch you. 

Sylus watches you with hooded eyes, mouth open as he pants for air. His lips curve up when he sees you open your eyes, looking down at you with a pleased expression while he rides out the aftershocks in your wet mouth. 

“How obedient,” he says, breathing heavily as he lets one hand go and moves to stroke the side of your mouth with his thumb. He cups your jaw, wiping away a trail of spit from your lips, then reaches down to follow the outline of his cock in your throat. “Swallow.”

You swallow, and his eyes darken as your throat bobs around his cock. He must be able to feel it on both ends—his cock, trapped in that endless wet heat; his fingers, feeling the movement of your muscles under your skin, feeling his heartbeat in his cock through your throat. 

He continues fucking your mouth until the spurts of come finally taper off. Even then, he seems content to let his cock stay in your mouth, rubbing along the textured roof of your mouth and against the scrape of your teeth. 

Eventually, he pulls back. Sylus’ cock leaves your lips, inch by inch, until his back is against the counter again and only the tip of his cock is left in your mouth.

You can’t help it. Now that there’s more space, you move your tongue instinctively, curving it along the over-sensitive head of his cock and licking into the slit. 

Your eyes are trained carefully on Sylus’ face as you do this. He shudders, lips spreading in a smile even as his grip tightens in your hair. 

He gives you this look, half-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile as you mouth at his cock. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely, pulling your hair until your mouth slides off his cock. It bobs in front of you, still half-hard, and you risk your luck with lapping at the fat cockhead. 

Sylus stops you by yanking your head back even further. He pulls up, forcing you to your feet, then he unwinds his fingers and smooths your hair down. 

You pant lightly, trying to get your breathing under control. Your mouth feels like one big bruise, and you clear your throat before even attempting to speak. Your voice is going to sound completely fucked, you know, and some part of you revels in it. That you’ll walk around sounding like someone just brutalised your throat, because someone did. 

Sylus doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, the long line of his body stretching out before you as he drops one hand to cup your waist. You eye him, then eye the slowly growing stiffness of his cock—when you look back up, he has that familiar, smug challenging look on his face, like he wants to see what you’ll do next. 

Oh, you know what you want. You take his free hand and bring it under the rucked up hem of your dress. Your panties are sticky with arousal, and you’re certain you leaked enough fluid for his cock to slide in without any stretching, but you like fingers in your cunt. You like Sylus’ fingers in your cunt, specifically. 

Thick and callused fingers, broad enough that two of them feel like four of yours. You like the way they can hunt down that sensitive spot inside you with deadly precision, and you like the way he taps insistently at it like he’s pulling a trigger on a target. You like it when he crooks his fingers inside you and finger you stupid while his thumb flicks insistently at your clit. 

You even pull your drenched panties to the side so Sylus can slip his fingers in. You’re being so accommodating, so sweet and nice and obedient, all hopped up on endorphins from having a cock in your mouth and watching Sylus come—

He runs his index and middle finger through the seam of your pussy, gathering up your sticky wetness. He reaches up to pinch your clit, finding it with shocking accuracy even though his hand is hidden beneath your skirt, and you let out a surprised moan, your knees shaking from the pleasure that bursts inside you. You are going over the edge the moment he sinks those clever fingers inside you, you just know it.

But he draws his hand away. You’re so shocked that you let him do it, let him pull his hand away and bring it to his face again, almost an exact copy of what happened earlier. You watch, pussy clenching around nothing as he presses those two fingers together and pulls them apart, letting thin silvery strands of your arousal stretch in between the fingertips. 

Sylus rubs them together again, then puts those fingers in his mouth. He looks at you, holding your gaze as he sucks on them, throat visibly moving as he swallows. 

“Sweet,” he notes, nodding in approval. “A sample before the main course.”

You stare blankly at him. Your clit is throbbing, desperate for attention. “Sylus,” you demand, reaching for his hand again. “I want—”

“I know what you want.” His hand cups your exposed pussy. His palm is hot, heat radiating off his skin as he rubs slowly along your slick cunt. “But for the next twenty-four hours, you’re at my mercy.”

He slaps your pussy, so suddenly that it makes you yelp, both hands reaching out to grip his bicep in a bid to stabilise yourself. It stings, so pleasantly that it makes your clit tingle—you want more of it, more of everything and anything, as long as he makes you come. You’re so close it’s not even funny. One more slap could push you over the edge, as long as he does it hard enough and right across your twitching, swollen clit—

“Go take a shower,” Sylus suggests, eyes dark as he stares you down. “I’ll find you when I want to, dollface.”

“You—!” 

His smirk just makes the heat in your gut flare up. You want nothing more than to push him on his back and straddle that face, wipe that smile off with your cunt and force him to eat you out until you’re shaking from overstimulation and crying over his tongue. 

But a bet is a bet. And you respect the sanctity of a reward, even if it frustrates you to no end. 

“You are infuriating,” you hiss, and stalk off to find a change of clothes.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)

★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut

☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.

☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 

It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.

“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.

“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 

“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”

“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes

“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 

“It was a mistake!”

You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 

You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 

“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 

“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”

Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 

You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.

“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”

Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.

 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 

You also know he would never let you live it down. 

You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 

"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,

“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers

“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”

You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly

"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”

"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.

You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.

She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 

You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.

It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.

As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 

You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.

“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 

“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests

“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.

"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”

It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.

You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.

You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

You could hear the scolding now…

”it's too cold to be wearing that”

“it's too dangerous for you to be here”

“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”

It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.

He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.

Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.

Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 

Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.

Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.

You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.

The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 

On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.

“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.

“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 

“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 

Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.

You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 

Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.

 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 

Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.

“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.

“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.

“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  

Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.

“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish

"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 

“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.

Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds

You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 

“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.

Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.

“Gross,” you grumble

“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.

It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 

You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 

“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.

Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 

He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”

"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.

He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 

When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.

He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 

You are grown now!

He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.

 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.

 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.

"Ok,” You grumble 

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.

"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 

“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.

Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.

You are grown now!

Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 

Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 

You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 

“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 

You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.

Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.

“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”

"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.

“I dont think—”

“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 

You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 

He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.

With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.

You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.

“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.

“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.

“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 

You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.

You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 

“He did what?!”

“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly

“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.

“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her

“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 

“I'll figure this out” 

“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.

When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.

You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.

“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 

“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”

You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.

You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 

Summer freshman year of highschool

You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 

It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.

“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically

"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”

He just nods his head and waits for you to continue

“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.

You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet

You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words

“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out

Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.

‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.

“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”

“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.

Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”

"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.

“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand

You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns

“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 

“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 

(¬_¬) snitch 

He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 

“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”

“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you

Point taken.

You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to! I was worried”

"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”

"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.

You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.

You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.

You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!

Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 

"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.

The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”

You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 

You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 

Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.

Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.

“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 

Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”

“I'm not asking for your help!”

“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”

“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back

“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 

“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.

“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”

You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.

“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 

You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 

“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.

Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 

Hes going easy on you

You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.

“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.

You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 

“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 

Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.

"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.

You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 

"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 

He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.

“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 

You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.

Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.

How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 

It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?

The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 

“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 

“I want to see what your doing”

Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.

“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.

He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.

Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.

Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  

Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.

As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 

Come on, please

You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.

He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.

“What are you doing!?” 

“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.

“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”

“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states

You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.

“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”

“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.

“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.

"Good,” 

You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 

It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.

Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 

“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.

You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage

“I had a match the other—”

“Don't lie to me,” you urge

“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses

Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.

“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says

You didn't respond.

“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”

You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 

"Maybe,” he winces

“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”

“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 

“Let me clean you up” 

Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood

He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 

“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 

You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 

“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.

"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”

“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.

A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”

"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession

“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—

You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?

“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue

“What are you talking—”

“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.

You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe

Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.

“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock

“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 

He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 

"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 

“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.

“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.

He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”

Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 

You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.

“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases

This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 

He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 

“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.

“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips

“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.

You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.

 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.

“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly

You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.

“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 

“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 

He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.

“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features

“What if I do?”

“I want you to,” you whisper back 

That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 

You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.

He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 

It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.

Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.

“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.

“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh

Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.

He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.

You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 

It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.

찬스노래방

Chance Karoake

You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 

This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 

You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 

Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.

“Welcome home, doll”

You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.

“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.

Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 

“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts

“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.

“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.

You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.

All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.

With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.

“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.

With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 

The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.

When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 

You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 

You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.

“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.

“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.

For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 

“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls

“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man

“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 

“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.

“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 

“”I found Yuta”

“Jeno…What did you do to him?”

“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”

“Jen—”

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”

“I had too. I had to do it for me”

“Where are you”

“At your apartment”

“Stay there”

You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 

You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 

"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.

Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.

“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”

“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”

You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 

He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.

“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”

“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”

He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.

You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.

“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers

“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess

He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”

And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.

[alanisinstone]

okay bluecollar!rafe but yall. can we make it MARINE!RAFE?? or more specifically MARSOC!rafe* who works for ward at cameron construction co. on leave?? like hello i need him bad guys.

cw: MDNI smut, cursing, stuff in public, food play, cum eating, military stuff, ass play, manhandling, 1 mention of fighting, recording

*marsoc: Marine Forces Special Operations Command - basically what COD men do

like he starts off as a standard private officer after enlisting when you guys graduate high school. he works his way up from private to corporal to sergeant major, and then eventually to captain, colonel, then general. i mean hes fucking unstoppable, hes blowing thru these ranks like nobodys fuckin business, and he not stopping anytime soon baby he in his primeeee.

he moves on to MARSOC and leads a small team on SPEC-OP missions in like borneo. hes literally the best of the best. his full file is like 4 pounds, full of successful recon missions, confirmed kills, successful captures of enemy targets, accurate tracking efforts, successful counterterrorism efforts, successful hostage rescue and successful direct action raids. when theres a REAL threat? they call LT Cameron. callsign? RAIDER

NOW. when baby comes home on leave he works at the family construction company ward owns, building giant beach houses for rich kooks. he eventually inherits cameron construction when ward gets too old to work and he helps ward retire bcs of the cash from being the most elite soldier in the US military. bae is tannnn bcs of construction work ofc, but also since being in the military he likes to go on runs and be in nature to clear his head. and yall alr know hes yatteddddd, both sleeves done by his boy at home on the cut, who happens to be a very talented tattoo artist (barry...)

strictly keeps a buzz for deployment but will grow out a mullet when hes home. signature gold chain is always on, and has a tat on his ring finger for you and maybe one on his forearm. does he have both ears pierced with fake diamond studs in? yes.

is currently in the blueprint stage for a beach house he wants to build you on figure 8 (and one in florida... and will probably start planning another one if he ends up having a long ship-out next deployment) even tho he despises rich fucks and is suchhhh a country boy. i mean hes like pogue!rafe but hes more of a mudding, dirt biking, bonfire, shotgunning beer, lifted truck, bar hop, football game kind of guy. and the most elite soldier in the US military ofc.

takes you on stargazing dates and fucks you in the truck bed, a big beach towel set down and his head in your neck while he ruts into you short and fast. occasionally gets into bar fights when some dick is tryna say sum to u. is such an ass man and will smack and grope that shit wheneverrrr whereverrrr - has zoned out of convos with people while feelin HIS booty up + loves to grip your pussy with his big ass paw when no one is looking.

has a super firm grip due to years of being a marine and WILL manhandle ur ass around - into various positions, onto the bed or couch or counter or etc., up over his shoulder when you gettin on his nerves. gets actually animalistic when yall fuckin, and yk that boy a munch. growls and grunts sooo loud the whole time.

will take you to the dock and fuck you on the family fishing boat. will christen any new bar yall go to by fucking you in the gross bathroom and carving both your initials in the wall with his pocket knife that ward gave him when he was 15. is kinky af but lets u bring it up bcs he feels awkward talking about it. is sooooo nasty - will eat his cum out of you with his whole mouth, eyes locked on yours, sucking your lips into his mouth. then, when it’s not enough, he drags you up to sit on his face and rubs your clit, watching you clench and letting his cum drip from you right onto his tongue.

will stick a thumb in your ass during doggy, while reaching for his phone bcs the way u throwin that ass back on him? yall bout to make another movie. loves watching you clean him up after round 5, when his dick is covered in his and your cum - will not let you miss a spot, even where it dripped down over his hefty balls to his ass. and he rarely shaves - uncut.

if it’s a hot day, he’ll turn the ac off and find you so he can lick the sweat off every crevice of your beautiful body while he’s fucking you over the counter. both of you completely butt naked bcs it’s hot. has a sweet tooth - will interrupt you while you’re baking and strip you, laying you on the counter like the dessert you are and eating the frosting off his favorite parts. get especially excited when it comes to sweets on your nipples.

honestly if that aint a FEASTTTT i dont know what issss

[pinkcowzz]

dick had bruce as a partner. there was a mentorship there yes, but at the end of the day dick & bruce were a team.

jason had bruce as a father. bruce took him and made the extra effort. he actually adopted jay and stayed home when jason was sick.

tim had bruce as a liability.

tim went to bruce- bruce never found him. i just really love the idea that because of the difference in dynamic, tim is one of the few people who can shame bruce into compliance so easily.

dick and bruce will get into shouting matches that neither one of them walk away from being satisfied, bruce is an unmovable object and dick is an unstoppable force. when they meet, its not pretty and there is almost always collateral damage.

jason and bruce are like setting off two firecrackers next to each other when they fight. it's loud, it's bright, but it burns off fast. the anger and righteous fury is there one moment but then gone the next.

tim and bruce fight differently, because a lot of the time, tim understands where bruce is coming from. he saw bruce start on his path to self destruction and managed to get him to switch tracks. bruce was never the same after jason's death (what parent is after seeing their child die) but batman was able to correct himself. after stepping into the role of robin, tim understood. he too lost so many people he cared about because of the weight of the cape he wore.

and i think the first time that damian and bruce go head to head, dick may be the one who comforts damian and assures him of his place in the family, but tim is the one who goes to bruce. it's the first time bruce has ever seen tim this angry. tim is seething with a fury that would put the devil himself to shame. he is so angry that he is shaking and bruce can the restraint that tim is using to keep the discussion from becoming physical. tim tells bruce, or rather lectures him, in all the ways that he has fucked up with dick ('kicking him out, never officially adopting him, forcing him to go through with the spyral mission- you treat him as your partner when its convenient but the moment it's not he is your soldier again. its unfair bruce. he's more of a man, more of a father than you have ever been'), with jason ('do i even need to say it? actually, let me address it. you cannot see the forest past the trees. jason isn't who he was before he died. he never will be. same as you. he lost a lot more than his life when the joker blew him up. he lost his innocence, he lost his faith in you. i'm starting to think he may have been right') and with himself ('i love you bruce. i have always cared so deeply about you and your mission. it's why i came to dick in the first place. but this isn't about me.').

and bruce remembers why his relationship with tim is so different. tim trained overseas, tim got to patrol on his own as robin so much sooner than his other boys did. tim was largely unsupervised during his run with the young justice. tim had made up an entire fake uncle to keep his indepence. tim would never argue with bruce about himself in this way, but he would argue about- ('this is about damian. and i swear to god bruce. if you can't pull that stick out of your ass and find a way to apologize to damian that leaves him feeling properly taken care of. superman himself wouldn't be enough to save you from my wrath.')

and it's only later, after bruce does apologize to damian in a way that leaves dick speechless. when barbra happened upon the cave's security footage that she shares with dick who shares with steph who shares with jason that his family figures out just how fitting of a last name that drake is for tim.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Nikolai (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: There was a poll past this picture. Don't scroll if you don't want spoilers. And also since I have y'all here, thank you for all of the support on this little series of mine! Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Themes, Angst

So, no, things were not fine.

Especially when the only person who gets an ounce of your kindness these days is Nikolai.

When the only person that is allowed in your office to “do work, because the rest of the place is too gloomy” is Nikolai. 

When the only person who is allowed to ask you about your well-being and actually get an answer is Nikolai. 

When all the 141 can do is watch.

Was this their punishment? To see you get closer with someone else right under their noses.

No, this was not their punishment.

Although you are constantly in their mind, Johnny, Kyle, John, and Ghost were hardly in yours these days. Maybe a few months ago, they were. Maybe when you saw a good piece of art, or smelled something really good, or touched something really soft, or heard a beautiful piece of music, you used to think of the boys. Maybe when you laid in bed at night and needed a quick release, you used to picture their bodies on top of yours to get you to that high point - maybe it was just one of them or all four at one time.

But, these days, they just exist how you exist in their minds: co-workers with no obligations to one another. Just a group of people who only need the other to get their job done and that's all. If that's what they wanted, that's what they get. If that's how they'll treat you, you'll treat them the same.

So you being friendly with Nikolai was just you matching his energy. He's friendly, so you are too. There was no ulterior motive here, because doing anything out of spite means you care and honestly you didn't care (that much) anymore.

All you cared now was your work and earning your ticket out of here.

But, to your dismay, it seemed like Nikolai had his own ulterior motives.

The last time Nik was here, which was around your second month with the 141, he noticed the way all of the guys looked at you. He knew that they liked you, probably before they did even. So now that he's back, he wanted to play matchmaker.

And honestly, this was the perfect scenario for the team. All 4 of them dating the same person. They were a unit, a package deal, a team. None of them were able to hold down a partner on their own... he's seen it with his own two eyes. But together, they would be unstoppable. And it seemed like you had more than enough love to give so honestly this was a win-win for everyone. But, things weren't exactly where he wished they were.

That's why when the current mission was over, Nik decides to take matters in his own hands.

After wrapping up on the final reports for the latest mission, Price calls for a celebratory bar trip. Nik is right behind the rest of the guys when he notices you falling behind.

"Aren't you coming?" he calls out. The 141 freezes while you look up like a deer caught in the headlights.

"No, I actually have--"

"Nonsense! We can't celebrate without you. Right Captain?" Nik looks at Price for support who only looks at the ground. Nik didn't take John to be the shy type. And not just John as everyone else looked at either the floor or the walls. Wow, this might be more work than he expected.

After begging for 20 minutes, Nik eventually wears you down. He would not take no for an answer.

But now as you sit with the 141 and Nikolai, you really wished you had told the Russian to fuck off. This was just painfully awkward. The only person that's talking is Nik and he just got up to get the next round of drinks. You would try to make small talk but they wouldn't even bother looking at you.

Thankfully, Nik comes back quick with 6 beers. After handing each guy a beer and taking one for himself, he slams the 6th one in front of you.

"We're here to celebrate, so drink with us!" he cheers as he tries to pull your soda from your hands.

You pull back and admit that you don't drink. The rest of the guys still at that.

Nik lets out a hearty laugh. "What do you mean you don't drink? The last time I was here I saw you down 5 tequila shots like they were water."

"Well, I stopped after... a bad night. I don't want to make the same mistake twice," you say before taking a sip out of your soda. Nik backs off and happily takes the beer for himself. The rest of the team just sit in silence. John and Ghost immediately down their drinks in an attempt to push down their guilt. Johnny starts to bounce his leg as he fights the urge to say something. And Kyle watches the condensation runs down his beer as his mind races.

A moment passes before Nik starts the conversation up again. He calls out your name and asks if you were interested in anyone on base. Everyone chokes on their drinks.

After catching your breath, you asks Nik why he would ask such a question.

"Oh c'mon, you're telling me that no one has caught your eye. Not even these big guys?" he quips while signaling at the 141. Their eyes widen at Nik's question. Wanting to know if you were interested in any of them, they finally look at you.

They wished they didn't, because your face twisted in utter disgust.

"Nikolai, I am here for one thing and one thing only and that's to do my job. I have no time nor desire to pursue anyone on this base and less this team," you got up from your seat and dropped some bills on the table.

"Wait, I didn't mean to offend or anything," Nik cries. He reaches for you. This is not where he thought this conversation would go.

"Of course, no one ever does. Everyone just talks and talks and assumes that I won't take it to heart. Well guess what, I'm done," you finish up your soda. "So I need you, and everyone else here, to get it together, because starting Monday, we are starting that joint mission and I refuse to look like a fool because you guys can't be professional" And with that, you leave the bar.

Nikolai is gasping for air. What the fuck happened? He looks at the rest of the team and is met with guilty faces.

What did they do?

Word Count: 1107

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[retroaria]

ੈ♡˳ boyfriend Isagi ｡.｡:∞♡

summary: cutsey headcanons for everyones favorite egoist Isagi Yoichi (HIMsagi GOATichi) a bit of a school AU but you can add your own nuances to it ofc I just tried to be general

warnings: purest of fluff (your heart might explode)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🤍 - aria

pre!boyfriend isagi who shows his feelings through sweet acts of service before he’s ready to tell you head on. Need a partner for that project? He’s already slipping into the desk beside you, a smile on his face. Left your pencil case in homeroom? He’ll run however many miles to ensure it gets back to you. (could’ve texted you but he wants to hand it to you like Prince Charming). Forgot your lunch that day? he’s already splitting half his bento to give to you.

pre!boyfriend isagi who may be afraid to confront you about his feelings off the bat but will go so far out of his way to form a friendship with you first. Immediately introduces himself as soon as you catch his eye. You guys exchange numbers and socials and the rest is history: late night phone calls, weekend hangouts, walking you to school every morning. This boy wants to be your bestie before he swoops in for the goal (and steals your heart!)

pre!boyfriend isagi who wants to immerse himself in your interests and vise versa. No matter what it is you’re into he knows that understanding your passions will help him further understand you. Loves seeing you in the stands during his practice or games. Will literally melt at the sight of you cheering for him. “Clean up on left field, this boy just turned into a puddle of mush!”

pre!boyfriend isagi who can’t help but brush his hand and arm against yours when you walk together. Can’t help but press his leg to yours when sitting together. Can’t help but offer to carry your bags or books. Can’t help but pick that “lint” out of your hair or that “eyelash” on your face (totally not an excuse to touch you). Can’t help but tug you closer to him in crowded spaces. Can’t help but stare endlessly into your eyes everytime you speak (the BEST listener ever btw)

pre!boyfriend isagi who realizes he doesn’t want to waste another second of his life not being able to call you his. Uses the first moment he gets alone with you to take your hands in his and give you the most honest and heartfelt confession. He’s blushing lightly but confident in the connection he’s worked hard to build with you.

boyfriend!isagi who cant wait to be able to hold your hand in public, pull you in for quick kisses, wrap his arm around you whenever he wants, hold you close to him on the couch or in bed, tell you how perfect you are everyday, and never let you forget that he feels like the luckiest boy in the world when he’s with you.

boyfriend!isagi who can’t wait to introduce you to all his friends. You meet Bachira first (obvi) and the three of you become an unstoppable trio. Loves having you at post game celebrations and having you as his personal cheerleader (this boy would do anything to win the game and make you proud)

boyfriend!isagi who dies at the thought of you referring to him as “your boyfriend” and getting to say “my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner. he loves talking about you to his parents! They’re so happy to meet you and so glad that he has someone who cares for him. His mom def shows you all his baby photos (babysagi!)

boyfriend!isagi who takes you on the cutest dates and loves when you take him on dates too (makes him feel like a special boy). He always tries to do something where the two of you can spend a lot of time talking or have a nice experience together. He’s so open and willing to try new things with you, having you in his life has opened him up as a person. He’s also never not happy to just spend the night in snuggled up watching a movie/tv show/anime. (Aside: I have an isagi x reader one shot idea where they go on a date to a butterfly garden that I may potentially post Idk yet)

boyfriend!isagi who is constantly worrying about your health and wellbeing. You can’t tell me he isn’t the kind of guy to constantly check up on you, making sure you’re ok physically and mentally as often as he can. If ever you’re feeling upset or in pain/sick he goes into doctor mode and will do everything in his power to help. If all else fails he will just hold you and promise that his love will make it all better (he’s a loving optimist what can I say)

boyfriend!isagi who is the first to admit that he is absolutely smitten and totally wrapped around your finger because he will forever be in awe that he had the chance to share his love and be loved by someone so special <3

I’d love to do some more specific headcanons on him but I kept these as generic as possible and tried my best to capture just how sweetboy coded he is lol.

[arlestial]

❝lavender haze❞

synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..

pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)

word count : 2700~ words

author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡

A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.

"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.

"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."

"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."

"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.

"Maybe it’s personal."

"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."

With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.

"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."

Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.

"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.

"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.

"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."

"Someone like me ?"

The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.

"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."

If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.

"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"

"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."

Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.

RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.

RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.

"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"

"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."

Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,

"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."

Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.

"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"

With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.

"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.

"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.

"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."

The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.

"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"

"He told me about it, Rin."

You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.

"I thought we said no lies between us."

"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."

"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."

You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.

"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."

At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.

"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."

You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."

Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."

"I thought he was going to choke me to death."

"Oh, he could."

RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.