#fear is rather new for him be nice

[avasts-nightmare]

(#｀皿´) < —- this one is you.

— ( @orangesleepy )

YOU!! I dont remember inviting you!!

none of you know how to respect a damn DNI! what even is the point to it, then!?

whatever. you cant touch me anymore... I think. so it doesnt matter

and Im NOT that angry all the time!!! Id be a cool kaomoji. like a spider with knives. thats cool.

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

hm having thoughts bout making a boy who went forth to learn what fear is eah oc now

[webism]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you. 

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better. 

“Cold feet?” You ask. 

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin.  Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again. 

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day. 

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway. 

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months. 

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you. 

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments. 

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing? 

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end. 

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised. 

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask. 

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo. 

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both.  His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in. 

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?" 

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside. 

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips. 

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it. 

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you. 

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless. 

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is." 

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin. 

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you. 

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe. 

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock. 

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault.  He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours. 

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers. 

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum. 

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently. 

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers. 

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember. 

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going. 

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone. 

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn. 

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him. 

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you. 

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless. 

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours. 

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life. 

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear. 

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next. 

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed. 

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

cont in comments !

[simpjaes]

wife material.

Anonymous asked: Being arranged to jay in a marriage and hes distant at first but notices his new partner who has a nice plush ass, wide hips and plump tits. His brain goes mmm breeding material but youre just an innocent girl with a pornstar body?

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

NOTE: tumblr wouldn't let me answer it as an ask :/ also, not proofread.

So, you're in an arranged marriage for more than one reason. Rather than being "innocent", you're just a total bimbo. Fr, everything you've ever wanted or needed has been handed to you on a silver platter. Your parents are super protective of you though, mostly out of fear that you'd be taken advantage of, right? right.

So, you've never had a boyfriend, no girlfriend, no friends [outside of the maids and nannies that you spend so much time with.] You were homeschooled, never expected to go to college either, because why work if you're already well taken care of and financially protected?

Your parents suggest an arranged marriage, mostly so they can choose and judge who you will be spending your life with. They don't trust you to go out into the world and find someone suitable, after all, so....why not make an arranged marriage work for the whole family? Jay is the first son of a rich C.E.O and is expected to take over the business sooner rather than later. He's polite, bordering too-stoic, but very much a good man in your parent's eyes. He appears to see the arrangement as a business deal rather than anything else, after all, he was raised much like you were except...he's a man. He has needs, and they are frequently met by using the lovely little black card. He's not looking for love anyway, the late nights to the VIP club lounges is really all he needs. Until he saw you. Until he fucking saw you. What he thought would be a great boost to business and a good little photo op, where you're married to him but both of you just do your own thing....turns into, well-

"Shit, are you a virgin?" Jay shushes you before you can answer. Your little whimper of "It hurts" ringing too loudly in his ears. Still, he feels the nod as he presses your face into the pillows with a hand at the back of your neck.

His eyes roll back in pleasure at your nod. Honestly, with a body like that? A virgin? He'd have figured you've fucked around by now. But you haven't, and that just might be the greatest thing he's heard all fucking day. So, he points his hips with intention now, penetrating deep. If at all because he can't fucking help it.

"Can't believe they're just giving you to me." You can't answer with the corner of the pillow in your mouth and all, but even if you could, you wouldn't know what to say to him. Marriage. Business. He'd support you, wait on you hand and foot? Yes. That's what you expected. Honestly, the idea of sex has been forbidden from you for so long that you half expected your father to keep that rule with Jay too, even after marriage. And here you are, meeting him briefly at his house just a week before the wedding. Your driver had dropped you off, the intention of the visit being to finalize all of the wedding details and put in any last opinions considering neither of you are planning it. You really didn't expect to find yourself face down on Jay's bed, where he ushered you the moment he saw you. Muttering something along the lines of "You're alone? Fucking finally." It's not like you entirely mind either, it's not like he didn't immediately make out with you all the way to his bedroom. It's not like you didn't make out with him right back, even if you were surprised. It's really just the fact that you were totally unprepared to have a cock that big shoved in you for the first time on a Monday afternoon. You've wondered for years what it was like to have sex, anyway, always fumbling around with your fingers and never quite feeling as good or as full as you do now. It's overwhelmingly hot, pleasurable, even. And the fact that Jay is handsome only makes this that much better. You'll be marrying him next week anyway, why does it matter if you're letting him do this right now? After next week, your father will no longer be controlling what you do. It'll be Jay, if he wants to. You can only imagine the amount of sex the two of you will be having after it's official, so...you enjoy it. Moaning, groaning, feeling that pit in your stomach intensify with each push of his cock inside of you, his breath on your shoulder, whispering filth to you between questions to get to know you. To anyone else, it would seem insane. But the fact of the matter is, you've never actually been together alone. Never had the opportunity to really get to know each other. "You want kids?" He had whispered right against your neck, pushing deeper into you and holding himself there. You nod. "How many?" He half-groans. You managed to moan out a "4", which had him moving faster, harder. "Yeah?" He hummed, kissing your prickled skin and well aware that you're going to have him wrapped around your fucking pinky. "You feel that?" And there it is, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, thick ropes of cum shooting deep against your cervix, the promise of pregnancy coming along side the ring he's about to put on your finger. You moan out, surprised by how you can feel it spilling out of you with each sensitive thrust he offers to you, seemingly pushing his cum in and out of you while simultaneously snaking his hand under you to reach your clit. A whine falls from your lips at the sudden orgasm, so so sensitive, a feeling so intense and new because even when you played with yourself, never did you reach climax like this. You shake under him, clenching his spent length through your own orgasm until he gently pulls out and flips you over. He eyes you over, only now able to see you this closely because he finally got you alone without one of your parent's attached to your side. You really are totally his fucking type. And you're all his. "I think this is going to work out." He mumbles, inspecting you even more closely, ashamed that he didn't even get your top off before pressing you down on his bed. Embarrassed that he didn't have you facing him through your first time. He'll make it up to you next time.

"I'll take good care of you, and I'll be more gentle too." He continues, watching you try to regain your balance of breath. "I didn't know you were a virgin..."

You smile, eyes drowsy, suddenly feeling very sleepy...comfortable. Knowing that this will be the very bed you'll be sleeping in soon enough.

"It's okay." You whisper, clearing your throat and then repeating it in a more confident voice. "If I didn't like it, I would just tell my dad."

Jay's eyes widen, fear reaching his expression as he stares down at you, but you're quick to reassure him.

"I did like it, by the way."

[chowadoe]

sonadow fankid blast 💥 meet Breaker! his twin is up next 🕺

primarily takes after Sonic, taking over the day shift of watching Green Hills and the 'hero' mantle. beloved face. helps grandmas across the street. avid errand runner. has helpful big brother/camp counselor vibes!

🌖 At first I named him Breaker as a shorthand for 'daybreak' (his twin being named Dusk) and thought it was stupid (bc Sonic would name his kid something stupid) but the more i thought about it.. the more it worked.. windbreaker…. circuit breaker…a breaker being a heavy sea wave connecting to Sonic's fear of water..breaks/brakes… mm wordplay

very aloof! enjoys life. loves hiking. he loves anything with a good view. prefers to take it a day at a time, if given the choice. has a curiosity and interest in the powers and skills of others he's incredibly strong w/ powers including electricity + Chaos Control/time-space manipulation (and still wearing limiters)

he is extremely tactical with when and how he uses Chaos Control. With new opponents Breaker wouldn't use his Chaos Control, relying on speed and fistpower. If he did, he'd make it seem that he was just extremely fast getting places, using the shadows of his opponent and surrounding environment to slip between places

ever since he was a little, Breaker’s always come out on top. he’s always looked up to heroes, naturally- after all both their fathers were. and he’s settled into the role quite nicely, one of Green Hills’ very own, and just as beloved. all the townsfolk know him, all the women fawn over him, a true bonafide role model. But even his twin brother Dusk wonders/isn't sure if thats really what he wants or if its simply a role he’s acclimated to.

Breaker has a bit of an iceberg to his character. Most people see the very top layer, what they see day-to-day of the young aloof Mobian heralded as "Sonic and Shadow's son". there's something else that goes on beneath..

his powers essentially distort him from living the same wavelength as others. Like that moment in Sonic Prime where Sonic is going so fast, time has essentially stopped for everyone else. Tapping into this power has led him to believe he is invincible in ways, but not entirely. he enjoys all the scuffs, he enjoys what life has to throw him, his friends, etc. It keeps him grounded. as a result, he has a curiosity when he finally gets to dance with danger one-on-one like the average Mobian. he appreciates any opportunity to throw himself into dangerous situations because he enjoys the thrill of possibly getting hurt, as the pain allows him to feel 'mortal'.

One of his core principals is that he doesn’t want people hurt. He wants people safe. But sometimes it's unsure if thats the case or if its because he wants other people out of his way so he can set the stage between just him and his opponent.. and thus, minimize the collateral damage/cleanup.

He is rather tactical outside of battle too and does especially well in social settings. he already has the chops for it, being charismatic from the getgo, but he knows how to set people/things/his environment up in ways that would allow him to get to that final push for things to go his way without anyone being aware he had pulled any strings at all. he is incredibly observant, always picking up on the finer details. his hobby for people watching both comes in clutch as a both hobby he truly enjoys and something that could help him in future instances.

Whether Breaker wants to admit it or not, he cares about his image. Although his swagger is already quite effortless, he cares how the townsfolk perceive him, not just for the sake of vanity or narcissism but because he understands that people need an idol- they need guidance. That's what his dad was, and that's what he's for. It's what the stars were here for-- people had to look up somewhere for answers. He understands that he is something like a guiding light, a north star- but if they choose to refuse him, it's no skin off his back bc that’s their choice. He doesn't interfere with the choices people decide to make for themselves.

Breaker is a weird paradox character. where he's direct and very upfront, he is also so incredibly indirect about stuff too. Bro's always contradicting himself which makes it very hard for anyone to really pinpoint just what he's thinking beyond what they might know from the "hero" image he shows off.

Being good is a choice for him. But it's a choice he doesn't think about and something he's trained himself to wholeheartedly believe is instinct, as he doesn't believe himself to be a bad guy (and he isn't!) But it's like making a lie real and true.

Breaker, like his brother, has his own brand of isolation. Because of his powers, he lives on a different wavelength to other people. Always looking things through a window. He can look close enough to pretend the glass isn't there, that he's with there with everyone else, but there still exists that separation. So he chases after whatever makes him feel 'alive' and in the moment with everyone else.

[wonsroyalty]

METER : ̗̀➛이희승

pairings/warnings: uni student!heeseung x reader, smut, <18 DNI,, not sure what other warnings to put here yet but i'll add more later

a/n: had this idea in the drafts for a longgg time but never wrote it so i finally got to work!!

“You could never.” your friend gasped from across you.

You could and you definitely would.

For context, you’d just announced to the table that you were planning on submitting a new entry into your collective, ‘Munch O Meter’.

Yes, you had a blog that ranked the guys and girls at your university based on how well they could eat pussy. It was a way of ‘taking feminism into your own hands’ as Yunjin liked to say.

If you weren’t all beautiful and popular, the cancellation of your friend group would’ve began a longggg time ago.

However, top of the list hadn’t been topped in over 5 months and your loyal followers were getting concerned.

Jake Sim had given Hyeju a ‘cosmic’ orgasm and she’d rated him a 97. Out of disbelief, you all took turns hooking up with him and truth be told he truly was as good as she’d said.

His average score was 90, placing him at the top of the list.

For the sake of your entertainment and theirs, you proposed an unexpected candidate.

Deep down you just wanted to see if he was a virgin but disguising your intrigue as concern for the list worked perfectly.

“Lee Heeseung..?” Yooyeon looked at you as if you’d just shit on her plate. “Seriously.”

Yunjin shook her head.

“Definitely not.”

You slouched in your chair sulking.

Whenever they put people forward, you encouraged their suggestions, thinking of their fun rather than the entertainment of the blog.

“I literally never suggest anyone.” you whined. “Just let me have this.”

“No.” Yunjin firmly shut you down.

Hyeju gave you a pat on the head, attempting to comfort you.

“But why?!” you sat up abruptly, slamming your hands on the table accidentally.

“Who even is he? If his name doesn’t ring a bell, he shouldn’t even be considered.” she doubled down.

You sighed exasperatedly.

Heeseung had come over to the table not even five minutes before, handing you the notes from music theory during your group brainstorming for the next candidate.

“He was that nerd.” Yooyeon explained to her. “The one with the baggy clothes and glasses that kept falling down his nose.”

“He’s really nice.” you frowned.

“Nice doesn’t cut it.” Yunjin shook her head. “If he’s a bad fuck you’ll just ruin his chances of getting with anyone else.”

Fed up with their resistance you swiped your bag off the table and announced that you were going to do it anyway.

Despite the protests sent your way you stormed off to find Heeseung.

There was only one place he could be - the library.

And that’s where you found him. Buried behind a pile of books while sipping on one of those cheap energy drinks.

You were just glad that you weren’t giving him a blowjob, out of fear that his sweat would reek.

Your fingers tapped his shoulder rapidly.

“Heeseung!” you sang.

“Shut up.” his friend who you knew as Jay, snapped at you.

You held your hands up, surrendering.

“Um.. Yn? What wrong?” Heeseung panicked. “Were my notes bad? Oh my Pythagoras, did I miss out anything!”

“Shut up!” Jay snapped again.

You shook your head.

“I just need to talk to you… over there.” you pointed towards the book shelves.

He didn’t even have time to respond before you were yanking him out of his seat, ignoring the books that toppled to the ground.

“I have a problem..” you started.

Now that he was up close in a tight space and you were asking for such a shameful act, the embarrassment caught up to you.

“Am I your last resort?” he asked.

“No!” you panicked. “My first….”

He held his hand awkwardly on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. What can I help you with?”

Your brain registered where you were and who you were with. The warmth of his hand felt nice but you had a reputation to uphold.

You shoved his arm off and he immediately gained composure, but not in the way that you wanted.

He wouldn’t hold eye contact with you anymore, feeling the weight of your different status’.

“I wanna enter you into the Munch O Meter.” you bashfully answered.

His head whipped towards yours.

“What the fuck.”

You covered your face with your fingers, curling into yourself.

“You stopped my studying for this joke? Are you kidding?” he glared before storming off.

Your fingers grasped at his jacket, pulling him back.

“I’m not joking.” you confess. “I don’t usually pick people but I wanna choose you.”

He scanned your eyes looking for any hint of doubt but couldn’t find any.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Yes. I’m definitely sure.” you stepped back.

He bit his fist to stop himself from squealing.

“Jay is gonna be so shocked.” he looked over at his friend. “One thing though,”

“Whatever you want.” you replied. “It’s the least I could do to be honest.”

“We need to get ramen, first.” Heeseung nodded calmly.

You smile dropped. “Fucking.. Ramen?”

“I promised Jay I’d get him some.” he shrugged, unbothered and not in a rush at all. “And i’m kinda hungry.”

You fought the urge to walk away then and there. Choosing to stick to the plan for your own pride. Going back to the lunch table would be way too embarrassing.

“Fine. I’ll pay.” you stormed off to their table.

Heeseung trailed after you packing up his things.

“What are you doing?” Jay huffed.

You yanked him out of his seat.

“Hurry up, we’ve got an errand to run.”

***

The whole way to the ramen place, you were forced to listen to their atrocious science jokes. You were smart enough to understand them but the quantity was overkill.

It was surprisingly close to your apartment so that was a bonus, you could ditch Jay as soon as they’d eaten and get on with what you wanted.

You paid and sat waiting for them to start eating.

Jay wasted no time but Heeseung looked skeptical.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked.

“Not hungry.” you shrugged.

“Eating ramen isn’t gonna make your pussy taste weird.” he deadpanned.

An old lady sat near the three of you gave you a look.

“Keep it down, will you.” you growled. “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” Jay slurped. “If you tasted like ramen, he’d eat you out better.”

You flicked him in the head, his vulgar response had sent the old lady away.

Heeseung finally began to eat and you saw what Jay meant.

His eyes closed in pure bliss and he inhaled the food.

You hated how the noises coming from his mouth went straight to the pulsing sensation between your legs.

He didn’t even stop when he’d eaten all the noodles, gulping down the leftover soup without a care in the world. Even licking the bowl to not waste a drop.

You’d never wanted to be a bowl so badly.

“Is it good..?” you croaked out.

“Fuck, that tasted amazing.” he wiped at his face with a napkin. “You would’ve liked it.”

“Yeah..? Fuck.” you moaned out. “We’re going now. Bye Jay.”

You jumped to your feet bouncing impatiently as you watched Heeseung clean up.

“So when will I be on the list?” Jay joked.

“Idk. When we have a threesome or something.” you absentmindedly responded, pushing Heeseung’s arms into his coat.

You missed the way Jay began to choke on his spit, as you were busy shoving Heeseung out of the door.

“Someone’s needy, heh.” he rubbed the back of his head.

“No, it’s worse than that.” you sighed.

Heeseung stumbled after you as you dragged him to your apartment.

The two of you stood in silence as the elevator took you up.

"Are you okay?" Heeseung asked. " Do you still want to do this?"

You didn't respond and instead attacked his lips as soon as he’d kicked his shoes off in your apartment.

"That's not an answer." he pulled away.

"Fuck yeah. I still want this." you responded, dazed by his lips.

You bit, sucked and kissed at every piece of skin available.

He pulled you off by your hair. “Am I not here to eat you out?”

Your hands grabbed his, taking him across the apartment and into your bedroom.

He lightly pushed you onto your bed and hovered over you, placing light kisses on your lips.

His lips messily made their way down to your neck, stopping at the spot where he hear you cry out the loudest.

"Wait," you panted. "Have you done this before?"

You felt his hair brush against your cheek as he shook his head.

"Really?" you sat up.

Yes, you'd thought he was a virgin but but hearing the confirmation made your heart jump for joy.

"I've had sex before, just.. never eaten a girl out." he shrugged.

"Oh."

"Not what you thought, huh?" he squinted.

You scrambled to change your expression.

"That's not what I thought-"

Heeseung used his palm to smush your face into the mattress. Upon hearing you complain he shoved two fingers into your mouth, pushing them further down till you gagged.

"Shhh. Please just stop talking, oh my."

Your eyes widened in shock.

"Who are you talking to like that?" Is what you would've said if you didn't have fingers playing with your uvula.

He moved down to your shirt, popping each button with one hand but by his expression, you could tell he was getting frustrated. The fingers in your mouth popped out and moved to help slip you out of your shirt before unclasping your bra.

Heeseung took a second to fold the items and place them on your bedside table.

"Can you hurry up- Wait, fuck!"

He took your newly exposed breasts into his hands, twisting your tender nipples, painfully.

"What did I tell you?"

You scoffed.

"You can't actually expect me to be quiet. That's- Ow!"

He leant down and took a nipple into his mouth, biting down with his teeth, swirling his warm tongue around it before popping off.

"Shut up."

All the talk went down to where you desperately needed him the most.

Heeseung kissed down your stomach, hesitating at your skirt before unzipping it and folding it with the rest of your clothes.

You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of the wet patch on your panties as he dragged them down slowly.

"Do you always get this wet?" he asked in awe.

You shook your head feeling the embarrassment of being completely bare in front of him while he was fully clothed and composed in front of you.

"So that's your kink." he laughed. "Crazy, but I'm not surprised that you're kinda freaky."

"Shut up, Heeseung. I swear I'll-"

He sighed loudly, interrupting you once again.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth closed?"

He lowered his body down the bed so that his face was eye level with your pussy, eyes wide and curious.

Cold air blew onto your clit as he watched you clench your nothing.

"Fascinating how the female anatomy works."

You sat up, resting on your arms.

"You're gonna turn me off, stop being weird!"

He looked at you as though you'd just called his mother a bitch but didn't respond.

Two of his fingers gathered the slick dripping out of you and lathered it all over your clit, switching up the tempo randomly.

Your head fell back, legs widening in pleasure.

"Cool..." he drawled. "You know you've got more than 10,000 nerve fibers here, right?"

Your arms collapsed from underneath you as you moaned out.

"Wow. When I actually want you to speak, you don't."

He experimentally slipped two fingers into your cunt, feeling around as he kept his other hand circling.

Your legs closed around his shoulders as you gripped onto your sheets when he found the spot that usually had you screaming.

You felt Heeseung speed up the pace as you gushed all over his fingers, orgasming faster than expected.

"Are you sure that was your first time?" you gasped for air.

The boy between your legs was clearly distracted.

He licked at the release leaving your pussy, closing his eyes in pure bliss before sticking his tongue in.

You rapidly fought to push his head away.

"No. No more." you sighed.

"I know you can get another one." he rested his head against your thigh.

"I really can't." you shook your head.

"Stop lying." he frowned.

"I'm not lying!" you lip dropped in shock.

"Jake literally made you cum four times and yet you don't want me to do it again. Right."

You sighed from your gut.

"But.. I'm tired." you looked away from his piercing gaze. "And since when did you even speak to Jake?"

"Good thing you don't have to actually do anything." Heeseung scoffed before diving back in.

Your fingers curled into the duvet again as he quickly found a steady pace.

"Heeseung, I really can't." you whimpered.

He picked up the tempo in response, slurping and sticking his tongue as far into you as he could.

"Hee! Please." your weak arms attempted to push him away.

He continued to ignore you, your body setting alight as you got closer to a state of other-worldly pleasure.

"Heeseung, Jake lied!" you cried out. "I can't take it- I can't."

Heeseung seemed to reach a spot even deeper than you had ever tried, the constant stimulation had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably as you got closer to your impending doom.

A loud moan left your lips as your entire body went rigid.

"Hee, fuck!"

In the midst of the best pleasure you'd ever felt you peeked an eye open to see how Heeseung was reacting.

He had his eyes closed and his tongue wide out as he tried to catch ever drop of the release you'd squirted out.

Your chest heaved as you attempted to get a breath in, causing him to open his eyes abruptly.

"Wait what." he frowned.

"Jake, he lied. I only came twice and that was because he fucking edged me for two hours. But I gave him a high score because I didn't know who told him about how I always squirt the second time." you confessed in a ramble.

Heeseung hopped off the bed shaking his head at how you picked at a thread on your duvet to avoid looking at him. He slipped off his boxers and jeans waiting for you to finish you sentence.

"I don't even recommend people for the list because my ex told me it was weird how I always squirt and since then I've just felt embarrassed so I don't fuck people, well aside from Jake because I didn't believe Hyeju, but I wanted to put you forward because, I don't know, I'm kind of admitting that I do in fact have a crush on you and this was like the only way I could get you to not be scared to talk to me outside of class and yeah I overheard you and Jay talking about it in Music Theory, truly shameless-"

Within a split second you had a dick shoved down your throat.

"Fuckk." he moaned out. "Didn't I tell you to stop talking."

He raked your hair into a makeshift ponytail for easier access to use you how he wanted.

"You just don't listen." he sighed, gagging you over and over.

If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs for dear life as he ruthlessly used your mouth.

"I can't focus on the moment when you keep speaking." he looked you in the eye. "And I know it sounds mean but, fuck, I didn't think we were ever gonna do this again, so I obviously wanted to have a good memory of right now."

His fingers left your hair, head falling back onto your pillows.

You grabbed them and pulled them back.

"You're so hot." he moaned. "And your ex is a fucking imbecilic, doltish prick. He didn't deserve you."

You sure as hell weren't letting Heeseung escape your grasp after this. You used one hand to jerk off whatever you couldn't reach while the other fondled his balls. His hips thrust up into you uncontrollably as he let himself go.

He watched in surprise as you swallowed every last drop before composing himself and walking over to the pile of folded clothes.

"Hee, where are you going?"

He gestured towards the door.

You tilted your head in confusion.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I liked you, come back here!"

He laughed in disbelief, landing on your bed and pulling you into his embrace.

"You like me?"

You nodded.

"I have for a while actually."

He kissed the top of your head as you reached to get your phone.

Bitchless Bitches😩

yn

heeseung lee - 100

yunjin🪼

YOU IM GONNA FWJOFNQ

hyeju🌺

OHHH so that's where you went

yooyeon🐰

how do we know that he's actually that good..

hyeju🌺

PREACH

if hes a 100 let me at him🥰

yn

no. off limits.

Heeseung laughed at your messages.

"Next time we'll actually fuck." You nodded with determination as you put your phone away.

"Next time?" he gasped in shock.

"Duh. You can't leave now."

"Wow you really want that threesome with Jay."

"What threesome with Jay?"

[proneterror204]

Fear vs Family Reunions

Wonder Woman: This is nice! Its not very often i get to connect with this side of my family.

Fright Knight: Indeed. It is rare to have such civil conversation with my family, free of any drama.

Wonder Woman: Fear? You don't often get with the family?

Fright Knight: No. War is never good for children. Even its own children are not spared. Mother Love would have been better off with the Forge. He treated my brother and i more kindly than War ever did.

Wonder Woman: I'm so sorry to hear that. I hear you are sworn to a new king? Is this one better than Pariah or do i need to overthrow a tyrant?

Fright Knight: HA! No no no. This king is much more peaceful. Where Pariah was fire, Phantom is ice. He is more than happy to let the Realms govern itself rather than conquer it for himself. Though he does stress himself with keeping the balance between our worlds. War would have been a easier tool for it.

Wonder Woman: You speak against your Father but encourage his craft?

Fright Knight: I do not acknowledge him as my father or support his craft. I merely acknowledge as a tool to use. I mean the threat of a war to scare others into peace not the actual use of it. My liege would never threaten anyone with something he did not intend to use anyway, so there will be no threat.

Wonder Woman: Your king is perhaps wiser than you in matters of ruling.

Fright Knight: Indeed. I am a warrior, not a ruler or politician. I lead armies, not rule kingdoms. But speaking of war. Where did you put my.... male progenitor?

Wonder Woman: Ares- sorry, War is a god. We couldn't arrest him, so we handed him to a government organization that deals with the supernatural. I believe its called the GIW.

Fright Knight: .....

Wonder Woman: What? Is something wrong?

Fright Knight: I fear you have made a catastrophic- no a apocalyptic mistake. I must return to my king immediately. *Fright Knight summons and mount his nightmare steed* I suggest you take a Batman size look at the GIW and realize your mistake.

[emacrow]

Damian and the Dumpster baby.

Damian was doing patrols, with a bit of a minor rescuing and feeding the strays animals until he heard a noise from a dumpster.

Tonight was going to be a storm coming, and he rather check up on the strays, feed them, fixing any of the secure hiding places he put out for them for rain occasionally, and try to smuggle 1 or 6 into the barn again without Father knowing. Alfred can keep a secret sometimes.

Jumping on the edge of the dumpster to see a plastic bag tied up on the pile of trash with something squirming inside, alive obviously. Oh if this another group of puppies, he going to find the culprit himself and break their kneecaps and arms this time.

Easily untying the plastic bag and opening to reveal.. a little baby.

Not a kitten or a puppy, a living breathing human baby, cut and tied umbilical and a pale with a unique birth mark in a shape of a lichtenberg from his tiny hand fading to his chest.

This..

This was out of Damian's comfort line.

He had dealt with saving animals, people, children, hell even toddlers. He never dealt with a baby before much less a newborn.

He could panic later as he hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Carefully picking up the baby by the back of the head and and by the body, using his cape to as a blanket to cover the obvious nudity of the baby. Climbing onto his Red Robin theme Doom Buggy.

Taking care of a baby is no different then taking care of a baby animal, right?

.....

.....

.....

.....

He got caught after 5 month and a half by Alfred during feeding Danyal time, while scolded him about hiding the baby instead of coming to him.

He had a good reason to though, last time he told Alfred about the last newest addition, Bruce sended the Jafar the Ligor to a sanctuary. He still felt betrayed by that.(even though now Jafar is happily spending his days with the other mixed big cat breed but still)

He done a good enough job taking care of Danyal, even though he had to secretly look up baby stuff, medicine, clothes, a soft bedded cot and diapers.(the smell was much less worse then the sewer) he considered himself a great care-taker.(even though in the back of his mind, he feared that he might had unlocked that genetic adopt-bat bait traits that Dick warned him about)

Damian had gotten.. a bit attached, considering the idea of putting danyal in orphanage or a foster care wasn't ideal afterall the corrupted ones that Father and him had broken through over the years left a bad gut feeling if he had actually gone through with his plan. Danyal was one of his babies, only not covered in fur, scales, or a shell.

And he didn't do everything all on his own, Cass was the only who figured it out, kept it a secret and help out.. then steph found out... and Jason, Tim and Duke unfortunately found out after Cass and steph snuck danyal in the manor for a nice bath.

Only reason Dick didn't found out because everyone know he can't keep a secret away from Bruce's ear for long after found out Jason's new girlfriend was the new therapist in Gotham, and telling Bruce would feed his adopt-holic again and he end up having baby fever. (Tim didn't tell him what that word meant but he did look it up in a baby care guide book for new parents. And EW)

They were going to wait it out til Danyal was at least toddler age before sneaking him in the manor to gatekeep gaslight girlboss Father into thinking he already adopted him. (Steph's words, not his)

New post <-

[iarchmybaculaa]

Pairing: Ex! Jungkook x reader

Rating: 18+ (Please be mindful of what you consume)

Warnings: Jungkook is subjectively a little toxic, Mentions of an ongoing divorce, possessive! Jungkook, Girl Dad! Jungkook, unprotected sex (don't do that irl), oral sex (f receiving), Slight brat reader, Jeon Jungkook is a menace, reader is implied to be black

Word count: 5.2 k (I think)

🎧: Woo- Rihanna

For: @hobicakess and Paige💗

Jungkook is good at a lot of things

Hes a fantastic singer. He dances very well (even if he likes to fein shyness at parties). Jungkook can cook, he can multitask seamlessly and (almost) effortlessly, and he can put Jinhae to sleep in a matter of minutes… It would be much easier to list the things that Jungkook isn't good at.

Jungkook isn't very good at sharing.

He doesn't like sharing food, clothes or people.

You think it may be his biggest if not only flaw.

Jungkook considers the people in his life his. He doesn't expect them to have the same importance in someone else's life, as they do in his. And he doesn't expect them to think of other people the way they do of him, either.

You don't know if it's because he fears that he'll be replaced, or because he was raised as an only child. But whatever it was, Jungkook let it consume him. Holistically.

You remember how he had reacted when Yoongi- his mentor,had taken on a new intern. Jungkook and Yoongi had attended the same highschool within a few years of each other; and had met again when Yoongi was a TA at SNU. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing, as less of a student, and more like a little brother; and their bond lasted way beyond college. Yoongi was so proud of Jungkook that he was practically All he spoke about. Jungkook had gotten used to things being that way.

Then one day, all of a sudden, Yoongi was no longer “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook”; he was all “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin” much to the Younger's chagrin.

To his credit, Jungkook was nothing but nice to Jimin during the time he worked for Yoongi. He bought him coffee once in a while and even invited him out for drinks whenever the opportunity arose. Jimin was cool. Jungkook would even go as far as to say that Jimin was his friend. Jungkook barely knew the guy! He had nothing against him.

It was Yoongi he was pissed at.

Yoongi was the one who owed Jungkook his loyalty. Yoongi was the one who had nursed Jungkook through his first hangover, and held him when he cried about failing a class. Yoongi was there when Jungkook got his first, off campus apartment. Yoongi was Jungkook 's Yoongi.

At first, Yoongi didn't understand it. It made no sense that Jungkook seemed so fond of Jimin, yet he soured whenever the latter's name was mentioned. It gave him whiplash. It went on for a solid month and a half of Jungkook's scowls and petulant pouts for Yoongi to finally realize that something was deeply wrong, and that he needed to get to the bottom of it.

It took 2 bottles of soju and 3 glasses of whiskey for Jungkook to crack. His reasoning was so funny that Yoongi almost didn't feel bad for laughing at him. All it took to pacify Jungkook was for Yoongi to give him a hug, followed by a quick

“you'll always be hyung's favourite, Kook-ah.” as he ruffled his hair.

Jungkook was only 22 when that had happened. And he'd like to believe he's grown a lot since then.

He's advanced enough in his career that he's not Mr. Bang's payroll anymore, but rather pays him. Jungkook has grown in a literal sense too, having had a growth spurt one random day after he turned 23 (there was no containing him once he realized that he was 6 feet tall) .

Jungkook has (helped) create life; your daughter Jinhae. It's the thing he's proudest of, second only to marrying you.

But Jungkook is only human.

So it's only natural that he feels an itch rise on the back of his neck everytime he picks Jinhae up from your apartment, and all she can talk about is your new boyfriend.

He got so…irritated the more Jinhae babbled on about “Woo- Woo” that he felt a little silly. But who could blame him? He would be holding Jinhae 's hand as they walked through the park for their daddy daughter time, and every other sentence would be about this ‘’Woo Woo”.

Seokjin had once joked that she had switched from being 'Daddy's girl' to 'Woo-Woo’s girl' , and Jungkook 's body took a screenshot. He shot Jin a look so vile, that the older stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

Jungkook really had tried to ignore it as best as possible. And he (thought) he was doing fairly well until that evening, when Jinhae had let it slip that:

‘’Mama kissed Woo-Woo today.”

He had just picked her up from her taekwondo class, and was about to pull out of the parking lot when Jinhae gave him the oh so lovely news.

Jungkook isn't a monster, he thinks he's let this little charade go on for much longer than was respectable. He wasn't going to let that slide.

He took a sharp left and sped down the highway. If he wasn't so caught up in his head, he would've heard Jinhae 's excited scream of:

“YAY! we're going to Uncle Yoonie's house’

You had just finished taking a long, warm bath. Your feet had been aching, and your back felt worse than it did before you had gotten your epidural. You needed a break; desperately.

The silence in the apartment was a welcome change.

You loved Jinhae with all your heart, but children were tiring to deal with alone. Children could be incredibly difficult, just for the fun of it. Especially spoilt, almost-five year olds who are used to their daddy obeying their every beck and call.

God forbid you didn't do “ the voice” right, after reading “The little Prince” five times in a row! suddenly you were public enemy number one.

At least you could bask in the fact that Jinhae never threw (noisy) tantrums or threw things, but you felt that she had quadruple the attitude your hus- ex, accused you of having.

But tonight, the only attitude you have to worry about dealing with, was from Kim when you researched the earliest seasons of Keeping up with the Kardashians. What can you say? There's truly nothing funnier to you than upper class white women trying to be relatable. To this dat, their target audience was a mystery to you. You can't think of a single person whose biggest problem was how many times their name got googled in a day. You find it hard to take anything they ‘’go through' seriously, because if we're being honest, people really are dying Kim!

You walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white robe.

You reach for the the lilac, silk pajama set laid out on your bed. You had bought it from an online lingerie store, after a few glasses of wine a few weeks ago. You had been so…bored that you did the most exciting thing your numb brain could come up with in that moment.

You scoff at your past self. It was more cute than anything, not nearly as scandalous as some of the items you have hidden in the back of your closest. But you're not complaining.

The shorts are a bit shorter than you expected, but the silk is soft a high quality, and the lace that lines the top isn't itchy at all. You untwist your bun, and your braids cascade down your shoulders. You grab the bottle of black castor oil from your dresser, and run the nozzle along the parts. You sigh as you reach up to massage your scalp.

It's in little moments like these that you miss Jungkook the most. You hate to admit, but you used to be just as spoilt as Jinhae. Jungkook used to pamper you in every way possible. He would oil your scalp for you, order your hair products months in advance so that you'd never run out, and give you massages whenever your shoulders stood too rigid.

But you didn't have Jungkook anymore. You suck your teeth in annoyance at yourself for thinking about him so much.

You had just finished applying your vitamin c serum to your face, when you heard an incessant pounding on your door. You pause your music just as Kali Uchis asks if she can get a kiss. You're confused as to why someone is knocking on your door, when you have a very obvious doorbell attached to the frame. It's even stranger given what time it is.

You slip your feet into your cow print night slippers, as you step off the plush rug that lay on the floor in front of your vanity; and unto the floor.

The slippers slap against the floor as you walk towards the living room, and to whoever the hell wouldn't stop pounding on your door at 9pm on a Friday.

You throw the door open, ready to demand an explanation when you stop dead in your tracks.

To say you're surprised at who is standing at your door would be an understatement. You're not sure who you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Jungkook. You're even more surprised to see him without Jinhae in tow.

You don't think that you've been alone with Jungkook for more than a few minutes at a time since the divorce; and even so, Jinhae has always been just a few feet away.

You feel worry start to settle in your stomach.

“Where's JJ? Is she okay?” You ask, praying that what came out of his mouth next isn't bad news.

He chuckes. It's a sound that comes from deep inside his chest and reverberates across the empty hallway. It's an empty laugh, with no humour behind it. It makes a chill run up and down your spine.

“Jinie is fine. She's with Yoongi; and she's the last of your worries right now” he says.

For once, Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile the entire time he's been in your presence. It's obvious that he's mad, but you're not sure at what. You're not sure that you vare.

He isn't wearing a suit right now, and you can't recall the last time you'd seen him in anything but.

Jungkook worked extraordinarily long hours. You knew that working late and being burnt out would be a part of his life, especially the more his business grew, but it hadn't phased you at the time. There was nothing to be phased about.

At the time, Jungkook always put you first. And when Jinhae was born, he did the same thing. There was never a time where he had left you to fend for yourself with a newborn. He had been there through it all. From colic, to 3 am feedings to explosive diaper changes. He had never let you feel alone as a parent, or in your marriage.

Until around 8 months ago that is.

8 months ago, you feel like Jungkook had just stopped trying.

You know for a fact that Jungkook is terrified of being poor. It's why he always has another merger to make with one of his three companies, and dips his toes into every industry imaginable. His influence spanned over tech, real estate and even clothing. You think Jungkook's fear is understandable, you don't think it's fair. It was teetering on the edge of paranoia and greed.

He was trying so bad to make sure that he could take care of his family, that he wasnt.

He would get home from work after Jinhae went to bed, and left before she got ready for school. You had spent one too many nights falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home; only to wake up in your bed the next morning with a handwritten note on your bathroom mirror. They were sweet and all..but not much more.

As much as you appreciated the affirmations, his words meant nothing when there was no action behind them. Promises to come home home early the, family outings that never happened… You felt like you were a kid whose love was expected to be bought with money, and placated with empty commitments all over again. You could count on a bouquet of roses being delivered at your door every morning, more than you could count on your own husband being there.

You hated it.

You were starting to hate him.

It had gotten to a point where Jungkook had just given his secretary reign over his personal phone. You almost lost your mind when you had called him to ask what he wanted for dinner once, and she answered and told you that he was busy.

You could hear Jungkook 's laughter in the background, and the noise was not a professional setting. In fact, it sounded a lot more intimate and cozy. Like a restaurant or small bar. You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't even get the chance to talk to Jungkook about it, because you barely saw him.

The look on his face when you served him the divorce papers in person at his office was borderline comical. His eyes had widened so far out of their sockets, that you thought the expression was causing him physical pain. You had said nothing. You simply handed him the papers and stayed long enough for him to read the heading. He clearly wanted to communicate through words on paper, so who were you to not oblige him with some?

As far as you know, Jungkook had never signed the papers, but he did follow all the other conditions you had outlined in your petition for separation.

He got an apartment for you and Jinhae in a building he didn't own, and was never late for any pickups or dropoffs, save for once when he had the flu.

A part of you had forgotten how young Jungkook was.

The suits he wore aged him plenty. Not in an old, haggard way, but in a way that made him appear more refined and serious than he actually was. His hair was always cut short and clicked away from his face. The collars of his shirts were always ironed to sharpness. Hell, he even wore sensible shoes.

If you hadn't seen every inch of Jungkook 's body before, and gone to college with him…You would have pegged him for an uptight dogooder. You're sure it helped him get taken seriously in the corporate world, but overtime, it was as if Jungkook had forgotten his roots. As if he had morphed into a no nonsense, mormon-esque version of himself.

But the Jungkook standing before you now, is the Jungkook you know and lov- respected. Jungkook who proudly wore his colorful sleeve of tattoos,silver hoops through his lips and a stud in his nose. The Jungkook who liked to wear cargo pants and oversized shirts with stomper boots he could barely walk straight in.

You knew he had showered before he had come over, because his hair was still curly. He hadn't blow-dried it. His hair is much longer than it was when you had last saw him. It fell past his eyes now. He had started growing it out sgain because Jinhae told him she wanted to. At least, that's what he had told you.

What had really happened was that Jinhae had been asking a lot of questions about “ when appa wasn't so old” one Saturday when they had gone out for ice cream.

“Appa, Mommy says your hair used to be w-eally long and pwetty. Can it come back? Mommy misses it.”

Jungkook hadn't cut his hair again since.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asks, one eyebrow raised at you.

You fold your arms across your chest.

“I'm not sure why I should. Besides, I don't think that this is a good time.”

“Oh? Why's that? You lip expecting someone else,princess?’ He takes in your attire from head to toe. His eyes linger for a little too long in your chest. His voice goes deeper as he struggles to finish his last question.

You don't answer, and it makes his eye twitch.

It's so ridiculous, yet so on brand of him to create a hypothetical scenario in his head and get all eaten up about it. He takes a deep breath.

He doesn't want to blow his fuse. Not here, Not yet.

“ I need to talk to you. Inside. Please.” He asks, but it's not really a request.

You roll your eyes and turn your back to him as you walk away.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your ass jiggle in the tiny shorts. He enters behind you, and the door closes softly with a click.

You walk over to the fridge and grab the unfinished can of Arizona Iced tea, and a glass from the cupboard. You were looking forward to having a glass of wine tonight, but if you were going to talk to Jungkook… you needed to be stone cold sober.

“You want anything?” You ask, as you pour the content into the glass. “ I think I have some b-”

“What I want is answers.” He says simply, leaning in the arched entryway.

You look at him with confusion written all over your face, before your pettiness takes over.

“ Oh yeah? Well I wanted signed divorce papers, and yet here we are.”

You take a swig from your cup and let the sweetness of the drink coat your tongue.

You see Jungkook release a breath so deep that his entire body shakes.

“ Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says with his arms crossed against his chest. “Who are you kissing in front of my kid?”

You're getting irritated now, because for one, what the hell is he talking about, and two…Who was Jungkook to talk to you like that?

“Jungkook. First of all, she's our kid. And secondly, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And even if I did… I wouldn't tell you jack shit. What or who I do is none of your business.”

Jungkook pushes himself off the threshold and starts walking towards you. His steps are slow and strong. His strides are long,and he has your back pressed into the counter in a matter of seconds.

You haven't been so close to Jungkook in so long, that everything about him overwhelms you in the best way possible. He smells so, so good. He smells like sandalwood and warm vanilla. He smells like home. His proximity to you is dizzying, and you can only pray that you'll keep it together.

He puts his arm on one side of you, leaving your left completely open. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. You stayed in place. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind Y/N?” He questions. He reaches for your left hand and your heart sinks down to your ass. The diamond of your wedding ring glitters under the lights hanging from the the ceiling. The princess cut stone is practically mocking you.

“What do you think I gave you this ring for huh? Fun? Fucking decoration?” He jests, “You know, for someone who never shuts her big mouth up about divorce, you sure keep this on don't you baby?”

You don't deny it. There's no point in doing so. You know that if you do, he'll lift the ring upwards. And you know that when he does, he'll find the unmistakable circle of a tan line wrapping around your ring finger.

He strokes his thumb against your cheek, and you almost preen at his touch. “Who's ‘Woo- Woo’ baby?”

“None of your business.” You bite out.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull, that you are my business?!”

He runs his hand through his long hair, and you can see his face so much better. He's as beautiful as you remember and he's right in front of you.

You don't know who leaned in first, but you do know how soft lips feel as they press against yours. You fell the metal of his lip piercings touch the roof of your mouth as you suck his lip into you mouth.

He puts his hand under your ass, and your legs wrap around him on instinct. He lifts you and bring you over to the cool marble of the kitchen island.

His hand tugs on the hem of your blouse, and you pull away from him.

“Kook, we can't.” You whine as you pull away.

Jungkook uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from the corner of your mouth, and fixes your shirt so your boob is no longer at risk of spilling out.

“Okay baby, we'll stop and we can talk over dinner. Do you want me to make something or do you want to get takeout?” He asked as he pulls away from you.

He doesn't get very far, because you wrap your legs around him, and pull you back to him.

“Wait- I didn't really mean that.” You whisper. Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion that you weren't just talking about telling him no.

“You want me baby?”

You nod your head yes, too embarrassed to open your mouth lest your voice shake.

He cradles your face, and tilts it upwards so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You answer affirmatively, reaching forwards to capture his lips again.

Youre not even thinking about the Pandora's box that you might be opening; and quite frankly? You don't care.

You're acutely aware that you wont be able to blame your decision on being drunk or tipsy. The only thing driving you was a burning need to have Jungkook deep inside you (where he belonged).

He litters kisses along your neck as he slides his hand down your shorts. Your hips buck forward on instinct, and you shudder as you feel his fingers ghost your clit.

“Why are you naked under here?” He growls out. grip tightening around you waist. “I'm starting to think that you were expecting someone tonight.” he muses.

He spreads your folds with two fingers, reveling in the way your arousal leaks out of you and unto his fingers.

“ Is that why you're so eager, baby? Hm? Is that why you're so wet? You decided that you were gonna get fucked one way or another? Is that it?”

He asks each question as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. It shallow. He doesn't allow you the pleasure of going further than his first knuckle. You try to grind down on his digits, but he holds your hips down with his free hand.

“Whoever you've been giving my pussy away to, hasn't been doing a very good job... have they?” He groans as you clench around him.

“Jungkook please. I want-”

“Shh baby, I know. I'll give it to you I promise. Just give me one first” he begs as he speeds up his circles on your clit.

He sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your neck, and you cum almost instantly. Your body shakes and you wrap your arms around his neck as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

You barely have time to recover before he's pulling your shorts down, and cleaning up the mess you made. He catches the slick of you orgasm on your tongue just as it starts running down your leg.

He goes at your pussy like a man starved. You cry out the moment his tongue enters you. You ride his tongue with vigor, gripping unto the counter for stability.

Jungkook pulls away from you for moment. His mouth is shiny from your juices, and his eyes are already so blown out that you want to fuck him even more.

He guides your hand to his hair, and encourages you to grab the tendrils.

“Use me, baby” he instructs.

His voice is so gravelly and raw, that you can do nothing but oblige him.

You grip the roots of his hair and push his head back between your legs. You both moan when he starts lapping at you again. You hold his head in place, guiding him where you want him; where you need him.

The second time you cum, your legs closed so tight around his head that Jungkook thought he had died and went straight to heaven.

You pull him away from your core by his hair, and bring him up to your face. You clean his face with your own tongue, and lean in to kiss him so you both taste like you. Your chests are still heaving when Jungkook carries you to your room.

He lays you gently on the bed, and takes his shirt off at the same time you toss your blouse over your head. He's about to undo the strings of his sweatpants when he stops cold in his tracks..

“ Shit, baby…I don't have any condoms. I didn't plan on this-”

“ It's okay,” You reassure him “ I'm clean. Are you?”

Jungkook looks a little scandalized. “Of course I'm clean, I haven't - I havent been with anyone except you since before we started dating.” His honesty shines so brightly in his eyes that you almost want to pull him into a hug.

You release a shaky, nervous breath you didn't know you had been holding.

“ Good. I want to feel you, all of you.”

The bed sinks as Jungkook climbs over you, one leg on each side of your body.

You've missed this view. Him on top of you, chain swining in your face, and big doe eyes filled with lust for you and only you.

He takes a hairtye from around his wrists, and pulls his hair into a low manbun. His cock is already painfully hard, red and leaking from the tip.

You spread your legs as Jungkook nestkes in-between them. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and presses a soft kiss to your calf.

He rubs himself between your folds, mesmerized by how quickly your wetness coats him.

He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses.

“Are you sure you're ready baby? I don't want to hurt you.”

“ Is that it? Or are you scared that you don't hold a candle to ‘Woo-Woo’ my” you jest. Jungkook doesn't find it very funny.

He pushes himself into you, but as wet as you are, you're still so, so tight. Your pussy is so warm…hot even, that Jungkook almost cums the moment yes fully sheathed in you.

You're just as tight as he remembers, tighter even.

You both moan when he delivers his first thrust. You haven't had dick in so long,that you'd forgot what it felt like. How it felt like to have your walls stretched and your g spot caressed, how delicious and heavy the drag was inside you. How good Jungkook was at this. You feel so good that Jungkook practically forgets that he's supposed to be mad at you.

“You know you belong to me right?” Jungkook demands as he thrusts into you, slow and forceful. You don't answer and turn your face away from him He wraps his hand around your throat as speed up.

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!”

His thrusts become faster, punishing. He practically ploughs you into the mattress as whatever restraint he had before vanishes into thin air. You scream the more intense the pleasure gets.

“ I should fuck another baby into you, you know that? Hm? Should swell your tummy up with another one of my kids, so you have nine months to think about why the fuck you would do something as stupid as try to leave me.”

He finds your gspot as effortlessly as he usually does, and he hits it over and over and over again.

“Jungkook PLEASE” you cry. You reach your hand out to push against the hardness of his abdomen. He takes your hand and kisses it. You're so close. So fucking close, and Jungkook can tell.

“You want to cum, don't you baby?”

You nod frantically. Your pussy is practically raw from overstimulation, and you feel so much pressure building inside you that you don't know whether you want to run away from the pleasure or dive headfirst into it.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I need to please.”

“Then tell me. Fucking tell me you're mine”

“Fuck, I'm yours, Jungkook! Please!” you cry.

“ How many people have you fucked since you left? Answer me!” He commands you, adding a finger to your clit to the mix.

“Nobody, no one, Jungkook Please!”

“ I know baby, I just needed you to admit it.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your temple. He gives you two more delicious thrusts that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Your lurches forward as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls convulse around him, squeezing him so tight that Jungkook feels a bit dizzy.

“Baby,” he whines “unwrap your legs so I can pull out.” He gasps when your legs only wrap tighter around him. “Baby, I have to-”

“N-no,” you protest “ I want it inside Jungkook please.”

He cums so forcefully that his orgasm leaves him winded and his arms almost give out. He spils his seed into you, and you feel the warmth of it coat your walls.

He pulls out of you as he begins to soften, and collapse beside you as he tries to catch his breath. You both turn to look at each other, and Jungkook offers you a soft smile.

He notices the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, and turns his head to switch your fan on.

That's when you see it. Your eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Jungkook, what the hell is that on your neck?”

“ What are you talking about?”

“Right there,” you turn his head to the right to get a better look. Your heart starts thumming uncontrollably in your chest. Because there it was, your name in bold black letters for everyone to see.

“Jungkook…When did you get that?”

“Hm…about five months ago?” he chuckles. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Jungkook!” You say as you slap his chest “ We weren't even together!”

“ Correction, we are together, we just have separate living arrangements.”

You look at him incredulously.

“You're crazy, you know that?’

“About you? Yeah..Real crazy baby” he flirts “Hey, you never told me woo this ‘Woo-Woo’ guy is anyways .”

You roll you eyes at him as you climb of the bed.

“I can't tell you who he's not. He's not the one whose cum is dripping out of me right now. Are you gonna join me on the shower or what?”

Fin.

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake had a lot of free time.

In between the time little Timmy was deemed old enough to not need a nanny and his ninth birthday when he got his first film camera, Tim Drake had so much time after school to explore his big, empty house. And so he did, hours upon hours were spent exploring his house.

Mansion, Tim corrects himself. His house isn’t a house. It’s an abandoned mausoleum disguised as a mansion. He intimately knows every creak of the floorboards in the out of the way galleries, every heavy weight curtain shut closed so what little sun that makes it way through Gotham’s gloom is reflected in order to protect the artifacts stored within the walls. Tim probably knows the exact amount of fleur-de-lys on the fourth sitting room’s wall paper- by extrapolation from preexisting data and personal data collection. Basically, he laid on the floor and counted.

Tim had a lot of time. He also had a lot of artifacts to pore over, making stories as he goes and double checking the actual history of the object.

Tim thinks he’s an artifact, almost. To his parents, at least. A child, a thing, they collected at one point in their lives and put on display at the galas they deem worthy to return to Gotham for. Perhaps he’s worth even less, had his parents bothered to look at him more than the lesser art pieces in their storage-mansion. The story everyone knows about him is prerecorded by people who weren’t really there.

Regardless, Tim Drake knows every single corner of his prison mansion. He’s catalogued everything, after all, on a nice spreadsheet. 

And that’s why, as he entered the fifth- and least used- guest bedroom, Tim’s attention immediately cut to the wrong bit of detail. Eyes flickering between the indent on the bed, the mussed- but not terribly dirty- state of the sheets, Tim slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed on the spot on the bed, he called out a soft “hello?”

He immediately cringed. He’s not an amateur, and that little “hello” was a mistake that might get him killed.

Tim trembled as the panic set in, tears pooling at his eyes. He wished Batman and Robin were here, they’d know how to-

There’s something appearing on the bed. Tim Drake stares as a glowing figure with white, wispy hair and a black hazmat suit appeared sitting cross crossed on the guest bed. His gloved hands were held out in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Don’t- don’t panic!” The thing said, looking rather panicked itself. “I’m, uh, Phantom.”

Tim Drake’s curiosity and mystery-solving mindset slammed down on the toddler’s mind, quickly banishing the fear and panick in favor of interrogating this new, exciting thing.

“I’m Tim. Are you…” Tim frowns, wishing he had Batman’s intimidating growl. “A ghost?”

“Got it in one, kiddo. I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything! I just wanted to rest.”

Tim blinked. He decided right then and there that he likes this person. This… Phantom. If his trust was based on the fact that the loneliness was worse than a dead person, no, it wasn’t.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead..?”

——

Danny stared at the child in front of him, watching the kid- Tim- pout at something. Danny is distracted from the staples holding his ghostly guts from falling out of his non-consensual vivisection when the kid asks him if he’s a ghost.

“Got it in one, kiddo!” Oo, he should tone down the energy. Danny’s too tired right now to maintain that level when speaking to Tim. Now, gotta reassure the kid he means no harm before he reports Danny’s presence to whatever authorities around.

His parents, at best. The cops, at worst.

“I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything!” He could tell he landed in some richie rich mansion by the opulent decorations in a seemingly impersonal room alone. “I just wanted to rest.”

Ancients, that had been more honest than he’d wanted. He really was out of it.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, but you can almost never have enough sleep, you know?”

The toddler looks unsure but nods anyways.

“Listen, would you… not tell anyone that I’m here? I’ll be out of your hair soon, promise.

Tim looks like a smart kid. There’s no way he’d fall for-

“Okay.” He fell for it. Danny blinked, stupefied. “My parents won’t be home for a while.”

“What.”

Tim shrugged. “You can stay. The housekeeper is only around a couple of days.”

“You… are you supposed to tell me that?”

Tim sent him a derisive look, clearly bolder now that Danny made no moves to hurt him.

On his cherubic but skinny face, the effect is both adorable and absolutely devastating.

“You’re hurt.” Tim fidgeted with his hands. “I can… I can get you water…?”

His core purred.

“Please. Thanks… Tim?”

The kid beamed at him and left.

Crap. New fraid member it is.

——

Danny, naive: “Surely him trusting strangers is just a one time thing, he’s so well behaved”

Tim, staring Danny in the eyes as he jumps out of the window to go stalk his vigilantes: “I’m gonna go take a walk in Crime Alley”

——

Tim gets Danny water, but it’s tap water from Gotham and is infected with both an ungodly amount of toxins (that doesn’t affect either of them bc one’s dead and the other had been chugging it since they were a baby- Gothamites get bottled water or from Wayne Foundation’s Clean Water Stations) and also like trace amounts of ectoplasm.

Danny: woah this is so healthy water!

Tim, pleased because Danny ruffled his hair: yes, I’m perfect

The rest of Gotham, if they knew: making warding sigils against these two eldritch gods

——

Basically, Danny gets attached and stays mostly because of said attachment but also Danny could see Tim’s budding world dictator tendencies and went yeah gotta curb that

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC Prompt. Dead on main with priest Jason: Father Todd brings the Ghost King’s cult into the World of the Living.

So, when Jason dies and returns, the League of Assassins fails to hold him for long because spirits from Far Frozen pick him up after seeing teen through the Lazarus pit.

Jason quickly realizes that, well, they’re kinda obsessed with their cult of the Great One. And yeah the cult of the ruling Ghost King was very popular during the reign of the Pariah Dark but back then the rituals were carried out more out of fear. Now things are different. The population of the Ghost Zone has become interested in the activities of Frostbite and his loyal spirits because of an attempt to understand what kind of ghost the new ruler is and how best to thank and appease him. So Jason had no shortage of stories about the teenager's deeds.

~~~~

Jason to Frostbite: Well, you guys and your lil hobby are nice but I don't understand at all what's so cool about this guy, even if he defeated Pariah Dark and gets along with most of the Ancients…

Danny: *comes to visit Frostbite*, *slips and falls three times, sets the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make coffee then sheepishly smiles at Jason*.

Jason to Frostbite: ... Okay, Understandable, I Hope Danny Has a Nice Day and Some Sleep.

Tucker: Congratulations, you've acquired another Paulina. Great job. Danny: I'd rather he just asked me out instead of worshipping me. What the hell? I'm just a semi-ghost.

Tucker: Maybe things would be easier if you just gave him your phone number, you know? Danny: But he didn't ask. Tucker: Why didn't you ask? Danny: I couldn't! He's Robin himself, you know? Tucker: Well, good luck to you idiots to grow old alone near the altars of each other's name. Danny: Actually lil altar in his honor is not such a bad idea. Maybe this way he'll understand that I like him too.. Tucker: Danny, no!

~~~~

New in Gotham robbers break into Jason's place: Hey, father, God ordered you to share with your neighbors, so bring us some money or we.. Jason, who is talking on the phone with Danny: In fact, he just said that if you don't get out of here now, he will turn a blind eye to the fact that I will use my guns.

Danny*screams internally*: Oh Ancients, he's sooo cool!

Pandora: Honey, we're happy for you but stop flooding us with spam. You have already told 5 times during prayer how good his abs and chest look and how perfect Todd is when he reads aloud. We get it, okay? Clockwork: Well, I actually enjoy it. It's so much more interesting to watch while listening to the internal dialogue. Show must go on~ Danny: ...Get out of my mind! Nocturn: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lords in vain if you don't want to share with us, lil blob. So rude.

~~~Team Song: You Are My Religion · Firehouse~~~~

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I was wondering if you can do Yandere dick and Tim with a Childe reader who seems to favor Tim over Dick.

Just imagine Tim finding this little Kid following him like a little duckling and thinking that he is soooo cool!

No matter how much Dick makes the kid like him Tim is always his favorite!!

(It will be funny if Batsis who doesn't like Dick at all is also around. He will be losing his mind!!)

A/N:Oh my gosh yes! Lowkey Batsis and Tim being co-sibling-parents lolll. Honestly Tim and Batsis duo is so iconic. I need to do more. I love them. look at him...he's such a good brother.

Here's the thing, Dick is the honorary dad of the family. Like he's changed diapers, taught how to tie shoes, walked his siblings to school and gone to graduations... All the siblings go to him with their problems before Bruce.

Now new baby alert,,,,Dick is in full papa mode and is ready to do the same with batchild and is so hurt when the kid screams in his arms. Like anytime he's near or picks the child up like this kid is in distress. O my gosh I feel so bad. Poor Dick.

Dick is seriously trying so hard to make batchild love him but nothing he does works. Dick could have cocomelon on full blast and wearing a Barney costume and this kid will be trying to get away.

Eventually like Jason has to be like..."dude, please just let someone else take care of em'. They need more time to adjust to you."

It's because of his blue eyes isn't it? Dick unintentionally has the Miley Cyrus blue eyed stare and the kid cannot take it. lol

All jokes aside it's really not that bad but it's clear that Dick isn't their favorite. There's definitely cute moments where Dick is sitting down with batchild in his arms and they are munching on some snacks. Or Dick is singing to them or doing a fun trick with them in the air. But ultimately the kid seems to gravitate to other siblings instead.

Dick doesn't really know how to function though. I mean we've seen just how insane he is with batsis. Only problem is he cannot be as forceful with the child in fear of scaring them.

I think the batchild and Tim situation won't get to him until he sees batsis, Tim and batchild all together.

The whole Tim obsession is out of the blue. Like Tim is almost always in his room or in a dark corner somewhere doing research. He decides to come out one evening as he had a bit of time after solving some cases...

I like to think Tim is a super geek who probably wears cartoon pajama pants or silly slippers and it caught the kid's attention so he's waddling towards him.

Tim is kind of like...what is happening? What do I do with this young human? He's kind of awkward with the kid at first but the kid is just loving himmm. Tim will try to explain the character that it is on his clothes to the kid, and they will try cutely mimicking him and Tim's heart just melts.

"Oh uhh...this is Link from..well Zelda.."

"lwink...frwum zweldwa..?'

The kid is dead set on sitting with him during dinner too. Like they climb into his lap and starting eating off of his plate. It's perfectly okay because Tim doesn't eat much at all so he didn't mind the kid messing the plate up.

He stays out in the living room a little longer than usual that night to play with the kid a little, it's super sweet.

I like to think Tim and batsis are rather close siblings so there are times where Tim will be coupe up in this room and batsis will come in with batchild and pull him away from his work. Batchild loves playing pretend with the two, specifically knights and dragons and hospital. It's nice seeing Tim a bit out of his element and having fun.

Sometimes batkid will just fall asleep in Tim's arms as he's working late. Speaking of, Tim takes to the kids like they're his little apprentice. Oftentimes you'll find them together with tons of case files out and the kid is grabbing items or pinning things on the board for Tim. Seriously that child's reading level went from first grade to 10th in the span of a few months lmaooo

But there's often times where batsis and Tim are with them. Quickly they become the kid's favorite siblings and they want them to do everything. Like when the kid is hurt, they'll cry for either. If the kid need to get ready for school, they want either to help. If it's movie night, the kid is squished in-between the two. You guys basically broke the honorary parents and it's so adorbs.

But this is where I said Dick is not having it. I feel like Dick was never threatened by Tim until now. Like sure Dick knew that Batsis and Tim were kind of close in a way and he was okay with batkid taking a liking to him...but all three of you being your own little squad is killing him.

He hates being excluded and not being needed so he's like ripping his hair out. He'll try inviting himself into the group and like the kid is just ignoring him...

Dick will try to open a juice box for the kid and now the kid doesn't even want it anymore like....bruh I wants Timmy to open it for me :(

Honestly I am not even sure really how Dick copes...Like I just feel like he doesn't explode because like I said he doesn't wanna scare the kiddo but idkkkk

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part one)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

author’s note hugs to @nemesyaaa for sharing the idea of singledad!zach. i couldn’t stop writing (and the one-shot hit 15k words and became a two-shot… i love slowburn…) hurt and comfort. fluff. no smut. divider credit.

content warning parental abandonment

» masterlist

Zach is sure, without a doubt, that he has already lived the best day of his life.

The moment he held Ella in his arms was when the world bloomed into a color he didn’t know existed. Nothing could ever and would ever top that feeling.

He didn’t expect that before thirty, he’d already experience the worst day of his life, too. But he’s certain he has.

He was in a fog, a bad dream he kept trying to wake himself up from. He had stepped into the guest room to see a piece of paper on Jade’s bed and he knew before he even unfolded the letter that she was gone.

He read the last line of the letter over and over again. I can’t live like this anymore. Deep down, he always feared that she would give up on them. But not like this. And not this soon.

After Ella was born, bitterness permanently etched itself into Jade’s face. To her, the baby was always a mistake and Zach stopped being someone she loved and became nothing but the man she regretfully had a child with.

She became the antithesis of the girl he fell for. The love they’d once had was replaced with a cold distance. She started sleeping in the guest room. She ate her meals alone. She left the house as much as she could.

Still, he respected that she had learned to tolerate motherhood. While she didn’t love being a stay-at-home mom, he didn’t think she hated it.

But then she left. And if she could abandon them like this, four years in, not even having it in her to look into her little girl’s eyes to say goodbye, then that tolerance had a cruel end.

That’s why now, a month after her sudden departure, Zach is sitting in his living room, fingers curling the corner of the resume belonging to the woman scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.

Dishes clatter as his mother tidies up his kitchen. Normally, he’d feel guilty and nag her to sit down. But things aren’t normal and he’ll take all the help he can get. It’s been an uphill battle trying to pick up the pieces on his own.

His family drove in a few nights ago. They offered to visit as soon as he called with the news, but he didn’t want to put Ella through too much at once, so he waited a few weeks. Once he asked them to come, they dropped everything and set out for the four-hour car ride.

Ella’s playing in the backyard with her grandpa and aunt while Connie helps Zach run interviews. His team’s managers were understanding when he asked for time off, but Zach can’t be away forever. With his training and match schedule, he needs to find a nanny.

He’d rather not introduce a new person into her life, especially this soon, but it’s unavoidable. At least with a nanny, he can control that Ella will always be in the comfort of her home. A place she knows.

Moments like these, he wishes he hadn’t been drafted to a team a state away. If he’d stayed close to his hometown, Ella would see both sets of grandparents more often and he’d have dependable childcare until he figured out how to function as a single dad.

Zach looks over his shoulder through the window, swallowing the lump in his throat when he sees his daughter running circles around her grandpa in the morning sun. The chime of the doorbell throws him out of his trance.

Soft blue eyes meet yours when the door swings open. The stranger on the other side is tall and handsome and younger than you expected, his half-smile clouded by sorrow. You introduce yourself and he offers you a firm but gentle handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Zach. Come in.”

You trail him into the large house, mind already racing with the potential of it becoming your workplace. The agency had set up the interview. You don’t know much about the client, except that he has a four-year-old daughter and that he requested a nanny who’s adaptable to a changing schedule.

After meeting Ella’s grandmother, you settle on a couch and make small talk and answer their questions. You learn that Zach is a professional soccer player and that his work can be demanding and inconsistent, but with your apartment being close by, you assure him that you’re reliable and flexible.

By the end of the interview, the idea of a nanny doesn’t make Zach nearly as uneasy as it did an hour ago. You’re kind and experienced and knowledgeable and every time you see his little girl through the window, you smile in pure endearment.

Zach likes the idea of his daughter being around someone joyful. Jade grew to be so cold that Ella learned to go to her dad whenever she wanted to feel reassured and loved. It’s comforting to imagine her growing to like you, maybe even love you, and to be met with the same warmth she’s so full of.

The rest of the interviews go fine, but Zach has always operated on gut feelings and you’re a clear winner. His mom agrees.

────୨ৎ────

After an agency rep calls to tell you that you’ve been offered a trial period, you spend five days at the house getting to know Ella while Zach shadows to answer your questions. He’s friendly and helpful, but visibly tense.

The final afternoon, you’re playing with Ella in the living room when Zach’s phone rings. Ella rushes over to his side, asking if it’s her mommy calling. You notice the nervous way his jaw clenches when he kneels to the floor.

“It’s grandma,” he tells her, holding his phone out so the camera will capture them both.

You pretend you didn’t hear Ella's question. You know nothing about her mom and you wouldn’t dare risk crossing a boundary by asking.

Soon after the call, Ella’s drawing at the dining table while you and Zach periodically glance across the room to check on her from the kitchen. He’s been teaching you how he prepares Ella’s favorite foods. He likes that you write everything down, asking him for details down to exact measurements. If he wasn’t sure that you took the happiness of his daughter seriously before, he is now.

He already told the story to his family and to Jade’s parents and to his closest friends, but that was with people he knew well. People who could comfort him. He’s not sure how to share with you that she left, but he wants to hire you, and this is something you should be aware of.

After he slides a pan into the oven, he stands to face you, towering over you as he wipes his hands with a tea towel.

“You have the job if you want it,” Zach says quietly. You smile at him appreciatively. You weren’t feeling confident, considering how on edge he’s been, but you realize it must not have been you he was nervous about.

“Thank you,” you reply. “I do.”

He nods, looking down as he leans against the kitchen island, and says, “She starts kindergarten next fall. You’d be alright with part-time hours then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Uh, you should know…” he says, turning his head to look over at his daughter, “her mom left. A little over a month ago. It was out of the blue.”

Your heart twists in pain at his words, at the agony that draws itself into his face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, staring up at his profile. Zach blinks a few times, gazing at his daughter. You press your lips together, wishing you knew what to say.

“Ella didn’t get a goodbye,” he tells you. Neither did he, not a real one, but that’s irrelevant. “I told her that her mom chose to leave and I don’t know why she made that choice, but I’m not going anywhere. If she brings it up, please say the same.”

“I will,” you reply with an understanding nod, “and only if she mentions it first.”

“Thank you,” Zach says. “I’ll be honest with you. I really don’t want someone to leave her again. You are planning on staying as long as we need you, right? Even when the hours get shorter during the school year?”

He had that same note of desperation in his voice when he asked you about your commitment to the job during the interview, too.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I understand that she needs stability right now.”

Based on the way Zach’s eyes lower, you can tell he needs stability, too. His wife not only left him, but she left him with their child. You can’t imagine the hole that it dug in his heart.

“Thanks,” he says. He takes a breath. He wasn’t strong enough not to cry when he told Ella her mom was gone and he’ll always hate himself for it, but at least he kept his tears from falling this time.

“Do you want to ask her what she thinks about it?” you offer. “I can go put away her laundry to give you some privacy.”

Zach nods in agreement. And as he expected, when he asks his daughter if she’d like for you to hang around here more often after he goes back to work, she gives him an enthusiastic yes.

You’re purposely slow with the laundry to give them time. You come back into the kitchen to see Ella happily eating a freshly baked muffin and swinging her feet, smiling up at her father as he sits next to her at the dining table.

“My daddy said you’re gonna be here every day,” she says to you with a grin, overjoyed by the news.

“Not every day,” Zach corrects her gently. “But most days.”

“Try this!” Ella exclaims, stretching her arm out towards you, the muffin in her fist. The way you happily accept the food even though it’s reduced to smushed fragments in his child’s small hand makes Zach’s heart feel a little lighter.

“That’s delicious,” you say after you take a bite, settling at the table across from them.

Zach’s still getting used to having a woman around who’s so sweet to his child. Jade would hardly ever accept Ella’s offers to share her food, telling him that saying yes to everything would only raise a spoiled child.

“My daddy’s the bestest cook,” she proudly says.

“Best,” Zach corrects. “Thank you, honey.”

“He really is,” you reply. “I don’t know how I’ll fill his shoes, but I’ll try my best.”

Ella’s face pinches in confusion as she kneels over in her booster seat to look under the table.

“I think his shoes will be too big for you,” she mumbles, pointing to your feet. You laugh, meeting Zach’s gaze, seeing the first genuine smile on his face. You didn’t know he had dimples.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed, really laughed, with someone like this. Life’s dealt him a tough hand, but you’ve given him relief.

────୨ৎ────

Zach is organized. So organized that it sort of amazes you. Not only does he give you his, and in turn, your work schedule a month in advance through a color-coded calendar, but he also provides you with a meal plan for Ella so that you don’t have to worry about making one yourself.

The first day on your own with her is perfect. She’s energetic, well-behaved, and loves to talk. Zach left for training at noon and you were surprised that he found the time to text as much as he did. You replied to his every message asking for updates, sharing what you’re doing and reassuring him that Ella’s doing okay.

He gets home an hour after Ella’s bedtime. He’s been on edge all day, worrying that all this was too much, too fast for his little girl. Maybe he should have taken more time off.

You’re finishing up loading the dishwasher when you hear his keys jingling. You turn to greet him as he paces into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was bedtime?” he asks.

“We read three books and she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep,” you tell him. “No issues.”

Zach sighs in relief. He never liked afternoon training because he missed bedtime. Ella preferred bedtime with her dad over with her mom. She preferred everything with her dad, really. But hearing that she wanted you to stay is reassuring.

“And she ate well?” he asks. He settles on one of the stools lining the kitchen counter, watching you cross the room to stand opposite him.

“Yes,” you tell him. “She was great.”

“Sorry if I was annoying with all the texts,” he says with a small, apologetic smile.

“You weren’t, but I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you want to set up cameras. I know some parents like having live video they can tune into throughout the day.” You’d already noticed the security cameras outside when you first came to the house. You understand why he’d be so protective.

Zach threads his fingers through his dirty blond hair, damp from the shower he took in the training center’s locker room.

“Alright, I was definitely annoying if you’re offering to be surveilled,” he mumbles with a chuckle.

“No,” you laugh. “Ella did get a little frustrated, though. We were playing princesses and she said princesses aren’t supposed to go on their phones this much.”

Zach breathes a laugh. You’ve only been here for six days, but he hasn’t smiled this much in a long time.

“Thank you for all your work today,” he says. “I won’t keep you any longer.” You give him a bright smile and wish him a good night before you head out.

When Zach trudges upstairs, he peeks into Ella’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up with her favorite plushie. Now that he has a semblance of normalcy back in his life, he realizes that beneath the sadness and betrayal, he feels anger.

It’s not typical of him to feel angry. But Jade set everything ablaze when she abandoned them and he’s been left in the ashes, trying to stay level-headed while he’s choking on smoke.

He knows he lost Jade’s heart long ago. She lost his, too. It’s the fact that she broke their daughter’s without any hesitation – that’s what kills him.

────୨ৎ────

Zach never takes you up on the offer to have cameras installed. He starts to let go, little by little, eventually going a full day without sending a single check-in text. It’s gratifying to know you’ve earned his trust.

Before you know it, you’ve been Ella’s nanny for two months. She’s made herself a home in your heart. The only way you’d ever leave her is if you were told to, and you can’t even imagine being fired. Zach often checks in to see if you’re happy with your job and asks if there’s anything he can do to make things better. He clearly values you and doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s mid-morning when you’re playing with Ella on the living room floor and Zach comes through the front door. She rushes to him and you smile as you watch him drop his duffle bag and happily scoop his daughter up.

He had an away game last night and flew in early. His skin is blanched, dark half-circles under his eyes, but like always, he finds energy for his daughter. You admire it about him, how she’s never too much for him.

“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen,” you tell him when he meets your gaze.

“You don’t have to–”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. Zach has already told you many times that Ella’s the only one you have to feed, but you can tell he appreciates coming home to a meal. “There were leftovers.”

“Were there?” he asks, brows quirked, an unconvinced smirk on his lips.

You shrug and laugh again. You’ve grown into a friendly level of comfort with each other and you appreciate how you can joke around with him.

Zach sits in the dining room to eat, listening to Ella tell him all about her playdate yesterday. You tidy up the living room as you overhear her chat about how her friend was showing her ballet poses and how badly she wants lessons.

You’d sent Zach a courtesy text before you fell asleep in the guest room last night: We had a great day. She had a lot of fun on the playdate. Just so you’re prepared, she’s VERY into ballet now and is going to ask you if she can get lessons. Sending some options. Then, you sent him a few links to children’s dance classes in town.

You woke up to two texts from him. The first said: Appreciate the warning and the research. Am I crazy for holding on to hope that she’ll like soccer one day? You smiled at your screen. You’d briefly talked with Zach about how Ella has no interest in the sport her father dedicated his career to.

The second text from him, sent fifteen minutes later, read: Would you be alright with taking her to 6-6:45 pm classes on Wednesdays when I can’t? The season starts next week.

You replied when you woke up: Definitely.

You enter the dining room to see Ella hanging off her dad’s shoulders while he tries to eat, continuing to rattle on about how she’d never miss a lesson and would always listen in class.

“Alright, take a breath,” he chuckles. When he tells her you found her a class at a studio uptown and that he’ll enroll her if she’s sure she can commit, she squeals in delight. She hugs Zach, then runs over to hug you, too, nearly knocking you over.

“Easy,” her dad tells her. Ella asks you to turn on the ballet music playlist you found for her yesterday and launches into twirls across the living room.

“Remember what I said,” you tell her over the music. “If you start to get dizzy, you…?”

“Sit down, I know!” she shouts. You meet Zach’s eyes, both of you wearing smiles. You can see the fatigue on his face under the bright dining room light.

“Do you want me to stay another hour so you can catch up on sleep?” you offer. “I don’t mind.”

He knows his heart shouldn’t skip when he looks at you, but it does. He can’t help it. You don’t see this as a job you clock in and out of. You’ve integrated yourself into Ella’s life, into his life, so seamlessly. He doesn’t feel like you’re an employee here. You’re a friend who goes above and beyond to help. You’re someone who his daughter adores. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out.

He looks down at his plate, embarrassed, as if you can read his mind. His head has been doing this lately, rushing into thoughts of you that are much more than professional. He shouldn’t be thinking that his daughter’s nanny is beautiful.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “You can head home. We’ll see you soon.”

You nod and call Ella over to look at the calendar Zach made. It’s a routine with her every time you leave. She likes knowing when you’ll be back.

When Zach heads upstairs to drop his things off into his bedroom, he stops when he passes the guest room. You left the door ajar. Even though you always keep it neat, only leaving an overnight bag on the nightstand, there’s a lived in feeling, a warmth in the room that never existed before.

Once again, he has to remind himself that you’re paid to be here. But it’s hard not to like you, because even when Jade was living here, he felt alone, whereas having you around makes it hard to ignore that life doesn’t feel all that empty anymore.

────୨ৎ────

“Which one’s yours?”

You look over to the man sitting next to you on the dance studio bleachers. Young girls hop and whirl over the glossy hardwood floor in a sea of pink tutus, five minutes into their lesson.

“Oh, I’m...” You point to Ella. “Her nanny.”

Ella’s been in ballet for a few weeks now and it’s all she talks about. Zach’s schedule allows him to take her to most of her classes, but this is the second one you’ve come to and you can see just how much she enjoys it.

You make small-talk with the man and a few other parents, which makes the time pass quickly. When you get back to the house, Ella scarfs down her dinner and falls asleep during the first book you read her. You’re sitting in the living room when Zach comes home from training.

He’s nearing playoff season and he’s mentioned that he has much more practices booked in his schedule. At this point, he welcomes how you always pretend to accidentally make too much food. He doesn’t expect you to prepare meals for him, but after you’d reassured him that you don’t mind since you’re cooking anyway, he’s relieved to know he’ll have dinner waiting for him tonight.

“Hey,” you greet him from your spot on the couch. “Ballet was the best idea ever. It really tires her out. Bedtime was a breeze.”

“Right?” Zach says with a smile, pulling off his jacket. You look away to avoid gaping at his biceps under his t-shirt. You thought he was good-looking the moment you met him and getting to know him has only made him more attractive.

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d like any help with her birthday,” you offer, turning the tv off and standing up. Ella’s fifth birthday is in a month.

“I have some ideas for her party that I’d like your opinion on,” Zach tells you. “Do you want to stay for a few minutes? Or I can just text you.”

“I can stay.”

He’s relieved to hear it. He doesn’t have many moments with you alone. Usually you’re like passing ships in the night, chatting for just a couple of minutes to catch each other up about Ella before one of you leaves the house, so any window of time with you is something he welcomes. Your presence is comforting.

You sit at the kitchen island together. Zach eats as you scroll through his phone, gazing at screenshots of party ideas he saved.

“Oh, she’d love this,” you say, stopping at a photo of ballerina-themed cupcakes. He gazes at you in awe as you look down at the screen. You’re genuinely delighted at the idea of giving his little girl a perfect birthday. “Do you want to have the party here?”

“Yeah, do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks.

“Yeah. If you’re worried about decorating or cleaning up, I’d come early and stay late,” you tell him, continuing to scroll. “She deserves something big.”

He nods, swallowing down his food, too distracted to go for another bite. He can’t wrap his head around how sweet you are. You have no connection to Ella at all, but you treat her like she’s yours. Sometimes more than her own mother did.

You’ve been here for nearly four months now, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t that long, but he likes that you have such a deep sincerity to you that he can trust that you care about Ella. That you won’t leave.

You look up at him and he glances away, worried he’s been caught staring, clearing his throat.

“Do you know how many people you’re thinking of inviting?” you ask as you hand him back his phone.

Zach’s face falls as he scratches the back of his neck. You’re suddenly tense, the air of familiarity between you now thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” he says.

“Sorry,” you say, nervous you crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “Sorry. I’ve just been going back and forth on whether I should invite her grandparents. From her mom’s side, I mean.”

“That must be hard,” you empathize.

“They’ve offered to visit a few times, but Ella hated the idea. She doesn’t even want to talk to them on the phone.”

“Was she like that before?” You don’t have to spell it out for him to know what you mean by before. The topic of Ella’s mom’s abandonment has been a silent cloud hanging over both of you.

“No,” Zach says. “I think she makes the connection that they’re her mom’s parents and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her.”

His lips close into a firm line.

“Well, I admire how you respect her comfort level and let her make decisions,” you say. “Maybe you start the conversation about who to invite and mention the grandparents to gauge her reaction?”

Zach nods, trying not to let his heart get carried away with the way it pounds from your words. He’s received compliments on his parenting from his friends and family, but you see the type of father he is more than anyone else these days. He cares about your opinion and it feels good to hear you approve.

“That’s a good idea,” he says. His fork clatters against his dish and he takes a deep breath before asking what’s been spinning in his head. “I figure you’d tell me, but… she hasn’t mentioned her mom, has she?”

You shake your head no. His forehead wrinkles in concern and it sends a pang to your chest. You lean a little closer, crossing the invisible boundary between you for the first time.

“She could just be processing,” you tell him. “And it might take her a while to talk about it. But she’s okay. She’s resilient. She got it from you.”

Zach hopes that he’s not blushing, but his cheeks are burning. He’s sure you’d be able to tell, but thankfully, you look down and stand straight again, as if what you just said wasn’t one of the most significantly unforgettable things he’s ever been told.

Ella is practically a physical copy of her mother. Zach never minded. But hearing that you think his daughter inherited his adaptability, one thing he’s always prided himself on, feels good.

He wasn’t very confident that he’s been doing a great job at adjusting since Jade left and you just lifted a weight off his shoulders without even realizing it.

“Thank you,” he says. You desperately want to ask how he’s been since his wife left, but you’re afraid you’ve already crossed a line with your boss tonight and you certainly don’t want to risk doing it again.

“Sure,” you reply. “I should go. But I’ll let you know if I think of any ideas for the party. I think the ballerina theme is the way to go. This place will be so pink.”

Zach laughs, trying to ignore the way his chest hollows when you expand the distance between you, stepping away.

“Can’t wait,” he says. “Thanks for dinner.”

“There were leftovers,” you reply, even though both of you are already well aware that every time you say that, it’s not true.

────୨ৎ────

It’s only half an hour into Ella’s birthday party and you’re spent. You’re reaching for napkins from the cupboard to clean up a spill in the dining room. When you turn out of the kitchen, a girl runs past you, tripping and accidentally pouring most of her juice onto your dress.

“Sorry,” she says worryingly, eyes wide as she stares up at you.

“It’s okay,” you reply with a giggle, dabbing at the fabric with one of the napkins. “I came prepared.”

Zach just entered the room, witnessing the moment, wondering if he’s ever going to see you do anything that won’t just push him deeper into his crush on you. But once again, his head is no match for his heart when it comes to you.

He’s been trying not to lose his mind today and it’s not because of the chaotic party that’s taken over his house. It’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in a dress. While it’s appropriate for the occasion, it shows enough of your figure to make his mouth go dry.

You toss the napkin in the garbage, collect more, then start to make your way to the dining room, looking up to find Zach’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say over the noise. He realizes that your voice somehow settles his pulse and makes it race at the same time. “There might not be enough napkins in the world for this party.”

“Invite everyone she wants,” he teases, imitating the way you convinced him to go along with Ella’s idea to invite all twelve kids from her ballet class.

“I take it back,” you chuckle. When you move past him, the fresh scent of his cologne dances over you and it’s so nice that you don’t want to leave his side. But you shake away the thought and tidy up the spill, then head to the living room to mingle.

It’s better to keep your distance from Zach. You have to remind yourself of it almost every day now. You’d been spending more time together to plan Ella’s party and at this point, it’s actually frustrating how kind and funny and charming and perfect he is.

It took a few evenings of party-planning at the house, your voices low as Ella slept upstairs, to start to get to know each other outside of your job. You’ve learned little things about him, like that he’s left-handed, and that he has a sister ten years younger than him and growing up with her helped him practice parenting, and that he likes a cup of tea before bed because it relaxes him.

You also noticed that he drifts into a more timid version of himself whenever the topic of his profession comes up. You’d mentioned that Ella could eventually grow an interest in soccer, that you’d take her to one of his home games if she wanted, and he nodded with a shy smile, saying he liked the idea.

Every side of him is intriguing, and while your conversations haven’t fallen into anything too personal, you want to know more about him past the friendly distance that stands between you.

Ella quickly darts past Zach in the kitchen and he reminds her that tag is an outside game. He’s relieved that she seems happy and careless today.

He’d asked her about inviting her mom’s parents and she answered with a quiet no. He called them to tell them that this birthday would be too difficult to celebrate together and they understood, opting to send a present in the mail.

Zach is glad he took your advice. As he rounds the corner, he sees you chatting with Ella’s friend’s dad. You probably know him from ballet. Zach has spoken with him, too. He knows the man is divorced.

Jealousy swirls in his chest. He shouldn’t care about you talking to another man. Even though you’ve started to share more about your lives with each other and he’s pretty sure you’re single, you could have a boyfriend you haven’t mentioned.

Again, while he tells himself not to feel things for you, it’s so much easier said than done. He has to look away, wondering why he feels like someone who’s not even his is being taken from him.

All the stress leaves your body the minute the last attendee leaves through the front door. It was a great party, but it was exhausting.

Ella’s eating her dinner as you, Zach, and his family tackle the mess. You make conversation with her while you clean the kitchen, happy to hear her rave about what a good birthday she had.

She asks if you can cuddle her for bedtime. Zach overhears and trudges into the kitchen, crumpled decorations in his hands. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and you try to ignore the fact that the mere sight of his forearms makes your stomach go numb with butterflies.

“It’s been a long day,” he says to you quietly. “I can take bedtime.”

“I got it,” you reply. He mirrors your smile. You like that he’s not the type of parent to be bitter that his own kid prefers you sometimes. He’s just happy that Ella’s happy.

When you’re leaning back in Ella’s bed, chatting as you wait for her to doze off, her arm is draped over your body and her cheek is on your shoulder. She’s grown to be totally comfortable with you, always taking the opportunity to be affectionate.

Your eyelids are heavy as you ramble about what she’ll be doing with her grandparents and aunt in the next few days, as they’ll be staying in town for a bit. Zach gave you the next three days off since childcare will be covered.

“I heard your grandma say something about taking you to the beach tomorrow,” you tell her. “Are you excited?”

“Will you come, too?” she asks. You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head.

“I have work, remember?” you tell her. You and Zach had decided long ago that you don’t want to tell her you’re paid to be here, that your job is taking care of her. You always just refer to yourself as her dad’s friend.

“Okay,” she sighs. She lets out a big yawn. “If I tell someone my birthday wish, will it not become true anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure the rule is that you can tell one grown-up,” you play along, “and it’ll still come true.” She nuzzles in. You assume she’ll mention a gift she wanted but didn’t receive today.

“I wished that you were my mommy,” she mumbles into the dark.

Your throat tightens and your heart sinks and you hate that the sweet, innocent child clinging onto you has to carry the weight of being abandoned. You kiss the top of her head again and try not to cry.

“I love you, okay?” you tell her. She nods and squeezes you tighter and within minutes, her breathing grows deeper.

When you head downstairs, you see that almost all of the mess has been tidied up. Zach is hauling a full garbage bag to the front door, giving you a tired smile when he sees you.

“Do you need any help with–”

“Go home,” he interrupts, faking irritation. You laugh in defeat.

“Fine.” You step into the living room to say goodbye to his family, antsy to have some time to yourself so that you don’t have to force down your tears any longer.

A few seconds after the door shuts behind you, Zach remembers that he’d set aside a container of leftover treats from the party for you.

You pace down the sidewalk into the cool evening air, unlocking your car remotely, unable to stop your tears from building. When you hear Zach call your name, you quickly wipe at your eyes, realizing you’ve smudged your make-up.

“There were leftovers,” he says when you turn to look at him.

“That’s my line,” you try to joke. You take the container. “Thanks.”

He notices the shine in your eyes immediately.

“Are you alright?” Zach asks softly. You gaze up at him, heart breaking a little more at the concern in his expression.

“Just a busy day,” you tell him.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Or– yeah, but I was going to tell you later. Without the tears.” You offer a pathetic laugh to break the tension, but he’s too worried to laugh, too.

“What is it?” he asks.

You look up to Ella’s bedroom window. The first time you’d walked up to this house, you were oblivious to the fact that the two people living in it would steal your heart. You know you need to tell him what his daughter said. But you’d hoped you’d have more time to process it.

“Before bed,” you say, your voice thin, “she told me she wished I was her mom.”

It takes all the air out of Zach’s lungs. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s without words. He crosses his arms, looking down at the pavement.

“I know. It’s a lot,” you mumble. Your temples ache as more tears build up, frustrated that this is Zach and Ella’s reality. “It just makes me so sad. I don’t want to say anything bad about your ex-wife, but I don’t understand how she could just leave you two. Has she not called to check in on her? Or to wish her a happy birthday?”

Your heart starts to thrum even harder. Your words were impulsive, surprising you even though you’re the one who said them, and the fear that you just crossed a line and exposed your feelings for him rushes through you.

“No,” is all Zach is able to say. He stares at you, speechless, biting the inside of his cheek.

“When Ella said… what she said, I told her that I love her,” you say. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” he says, his tone tender. Your lips twist into a sad smile. You want to hug him. But you step back. Because he’s still your boss and you don’t want him to think you can’t remain professional. You’re already anxious and regretful that you brought up Ella’s mom.

“Thank you,” you say. “I should go. Good night.”

Zach’s dazed the rest of the evening. He watches you drive off. He goes back inside to finish cleaning up. He spends time with his parents and sister, but soon heads upstairs to sleep, too distracted to keep up conversation.

His mind keeps him awake as he lies in bed. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, watching the shadow of the trees by his window rustle in the wind. In a matter of a minute, your relationship reached a new level of vulnerability.

And now that he has time to wade through his feelings, beneath the pain he feels for Ella and what she told you, he can’t deny that his heart fluttered when you said you don’t understand how someone could leave him and his daughter. Maybe you feel the same way about him.

This is not just a crush. He’s falling for you.

────୨ৎ────

You stare at the text Zach sent you a few minutes ago as you brush your teeth the next morning.

Sorry for bothering you on your day off but Ella has asked me about 50 times (give or take) if I can ask you to come to the beach today. I told her you’re busy but you know her. No pressure but we’d all love to have you. Would count as a work day, of course.

It was already hard to keep your feelings for Zach at bay when all you can think about is his smile and his voice and the way he makes you feel more comfortable than any man ever has, but now, you’re afraid it might be awkward when you see him. You’d said something so heavy last night, then left abruptly.

Nonetheless, the love you have for Ella and the love you’re starting to have for Zach is louder than the worry you’re feeling.

You reply: Don’t count it as work. It’s how I’d like to spend my day off. When and where?

A minute later, he sends you the address and time.

It’s late morning when you text Zach that you’ve arrived at the beach. He heads to the parking lot, leaving his parents, sister, and daughter by the shoreline so that he can speak to you alone. He hates that he was too in shock to thank you last night. But it was all so much to take in.

He spots you pulling a bag out of your trunk, greeting you with a soft “hey” to not startle you. It’s so nice to know that you’re here because you want to be.

You turn to see Zach in his swim shorts, his hair wet, water droplets scattered atop his muscles. You close the trunk, hoping he didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered.

“Hey. What’d you tell Ella about the ‘work’ I had today?” you ask, trying to establish a lighthearted tone. “Did my boss let me leave early?”

“We can say that,” he says with a smile. “He sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. It’s my other boss that’s kind of a nightmare,” you joke.

Zach takes you in, squinting a bit.

“You don’t really think of me as your boss, do you?” he asks, realizing he hates the implication. It makes him feel like even thinking about you as more than a friend is deeply unethical. Like there’s a power imbalance and he’s taking advantage of it somehow.

You still for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it, but aren’t you?”

“I guess.” His brows furrow. “It just doesn’t sound right.”

“How about we say… Ella’s my boss? And yours, too, now that I think about it.”

Zach laughs, “That works for me.” He nervously crosses his arms. “Uh… before we go, I wanted to thank you for handling last night so well. I think you said exactly what she needed to hear.”

Your face drops slightly. Remembering the way Ella sounded when she told you her wish, resigned but hopeful, breaks your heart every time you think about it.

“Of course,” you say. It’s a relief that he’s not upset about anything you said. “Is she doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Being her usual self. I didn’t tell her you were coming, so she’ll be excited.” The way you smile at the idea of making her happy is something he’s grown to adore about you.

You make your way to the shoreline, and as expected, Ella squeals when she sees you, running straight for you. You crouch to hug her tightly, thrilled that you were invited today.

You sit on a line of towels with Zach and his parents and his sister while Ella explains to you what kind of sandcastle she wants to make. You make conversation with everyone over the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and eventually, you point out a small rubber ball by the cooler.

“You wanna play soccer?” you ask Ella.

“I’m not good at it,” she replies.

“You have the best coach right here,” you say, pointing to Zach. “Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can all work together to score a goal against your dad.”

Zach smiles in surprise when Ella actually agrees. You help him create a makeshift goal line with pebbles and shells as Ella kicks the ball over the sand with her grandparents and aunt. After you set up, you join Ella while Zach makes an exaggerated show of stretching.

“Is that how you always warm up?” you ask him.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he answers. Ella laughs as he dramatically stretches. By now, you can tell by the type of dad he is that he was always on the playful side.

Ella imitates his stretching, then determination flashes over her face and she darts forward to try to kick the ball past him without warning. Zach pretends to be too slow to react, reaching after the ball has already whizzed past him, and lets out a defeated groan.

He picks his daughter up as she jumps in victory, jokingly demanding she tell him when she got so good at soccer. You smile as you watch them share a moment of joy in the sun.

“Ella, would you ever want to go to one of your dad’s games?” you offer.

“Yeah!” she exclaims.

“Yeah?” Zach says. “Why don’t you say yeah whenever I ask?”

“Just take the win, Zach,” you say with a laugh. He grins, loving the way his name sounds when it comes from you.

You enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking with Zach’s family, playing with Ella, catching glances at Zach when he’s not looking. They invite you to dinner, but you politely decline, figuring you should give them time alone. You thank them for the fun and go home feeling lighter than you did when you woke up.

That evening, as Connie helps Zach clean up after dinner, she mentions how good you are for Ella. He glances down at his mom as she hands him a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.

“She really is,” Zach agrees.

“I think she’s good for you, too,” she says with a hint of a smile.

“Real subtle, Mom,” he chuckles nervously. “It’s not like that.”

“Alright,” she says with an unconvinced tone. She takes a beat. “I just need to say–”

“Of course you do,” he mumbles with an amused smirk.

“–that I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she speaks over him. “I haven’t seen you be you. But you are again, especially when she’s around. It’s just nice to see you smiling so much again. I know things have been tough for you.”

Zach’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His mom is right; things have been tough, even before Jade left. He desperately wanted companionship, to at least come home to someone he could call a friend, but Jade couldn’t give him what he needed. He hasn’t felt full of life in a long time. Not until you knocked on his door.

“I’m better now,” he says.

Connie nods, sadness filling her features as she pulls Zach in for a side-hug.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he consoles her. “Don't worry about me.”

“You’re a parent. You should know the worrying never stops.” She pulls back. “So, you’re really going to deny it? I see the way you look at her.”

Zach shakes his head with an exaggerated scoff.

“You’re relentless,” he jokes.

“You used to tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “She looks at you the same way, you know.”

“Mom.”

Connie laughs and hands him another plate. He knows that the idea of you looking at him the way he looks at you won’t leave his mind any time soon.

(part two)

[jjkamochoso]

How JJK Characters React to You Describing Them as Your Type When Todo Asks

Fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: pretend you’re in a huge group with all of the students present when this question was asked :) also, I went with the anime adaptation of the characters rather than the manga, just fyi!

There’s a part 2 here! in which you react to them describing you as their type :)

Yuji:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

“Yeah y/n, we wanna know!” Yuji said, excitedly. You figured there was no harm in sharing, Todo and the group were just looking for fun to distract them for a little bit.

“Okay, well I like guys that are average height, not too tall or short. Super strong, of course, with a cute, goofy smile. Oh, and colored hair is always fun too!”

“Oh man, he sounds so cool! If I find any guys that look like that, don’t worry, I’ll send them your way!” Shaking your head and laughing, you got into a conversation with Megumi while Nobara yanked Yuji out of your earshot.

“Yuji! Don’t you realize what y/n said?!”

He rested his chin in his fingers, deep in thought for a few moments before he answered.

“No? Should I have?”

Nobara didn’t hesitate to whack him on the top of the head.

“They literally described you, idiot! Don’t you own a mirror?!” Yuji’s mouth opened in a big smile. This was great news since he had a big crush on you!

“Y/n! I have to talk to you!”

Megumi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to join Todo’s antics but you had no choice.

“You don’t have to answer him. It’s a stupid question anyway.”

Megumi’s voice came unexpectedly from behind you. You smiled inwardly at his protectiveness.

“I appreciate that Fushiguro, but I might as well. Let’s see. I like moody boys on the lankier side with dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He has to love animals too.”

You looked at Megumi to see if it registered that you were talking about him. All of a sudden, he sported a deep blush and excused himself from the group. Todo gave you a hearty smack on the back for your response.

“I’m proud of you for baring your soul like that to the one you love,” he said, tears rolling down his face. “Y/n, go get your man!”

You turned to look at your friends who all just shrugged their shoulders. Looks like you’re off to find Megumi then!

Nobara:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You had no hesitation answering this question, you loved to talk about things like this, gossip and crushes and the sort. Besides, it was time Nobara knew how you felt!

“I thought you’d never ask! I really like short girls with short hair. If it’s a vibrant color, that’s a plus. Spunky personalities are the best and I need someone who’ll keep up with me when I go shopping.”

Looking over at Nobara, you saw her jaw drop and you knew she understood what you were getting at.

“Y/n! You liked me and you never told me?! This whole time?!” she shouted, running towards you. You didn’t know whether she was going to hit or kiss you so you took off running as well. Gotta love the feisty girls!

Maki:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

“This stupid question again?” grumbled Maki. You were a bit nervous to reply to Todo. You had a huge crush on Maki but she was, well, intimidating, to say the least. To be fair, so was Todo, and you heard what happened to Fushiguro so you went with the safest bet.

“I like girls who are on the taller side and insanely strong. Light eyes, dark hair. Straight to the point, always. And uh… glasses.”

Maki hadn’t moved a muscle and you cringed, fearing the worst. Best case scenario, she would ignore you ever said that. Worst case, she’d beat you up. When she came over and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, you gulped.

“Y/n. We’re talking about this somewhere else.”

(Spoiler alert: when you were somewhere else, you kissed🤭)

Inumaki:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Todo was on your last nerve. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but why should you be expected to tell everyone your personal business like this? In front of both schools’ students, no less! When you were filled in on what happens when you don’t answer truthfully, you resigned to the fact that you were exposing your true feelings to everyone today, whether you liked it or not.

“I like shorter men, preferably with medium length blonde hair, and bright purple eyes. He doesn’t talk much but more than makes up for it with his top tier sense of humor.” You noticed that Inumaki never broke his gaze from you as you spoke. You shuffled over to where he was sitting to explain yourself, but this time it was you who couldn’t find the right words.

“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki broke the silence first, basically asking you what was wrong since you marched over there and hadn’t said a thing.

“Look, Toge, I’m sorry if I—”

He tugged on your sleeve, stopping you. In his hands was a note that read, “I like you too” with a little smiley face at the end.

Yuta:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You weren’t sure how to answer Todo. On one hand, you didn’t want to expose your crush on Yuta. On the other, would be it so bad for the truth to be out there? He was a kind person that wouldn’t drop your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.

“I really like average height guys with longer dark hair and big, dark blue eyes. Personality wise he has to be extremely loyal and caring. Oh, and good with a sword.”

“Sooo… Yuta?” questioned Panda, and you nodded in agreement, your face warming with a blush.

“Wait, me? Really?” Yuta’s eyes lit up as he broke out into a hopeful smile. You nodded again.

“Oh man, that’s great!” he exclaimed, and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for awhile too and I just thought maybe you didn’t feel the same but you do! Which is amazing!” You laughed softly at his rambling. This school year just got a whole lot better!

Gojo:

“Y/L/N sensei! What kind of man is your type?”

“Todo, isn’t that wildly inappropriate to ask your superior?” you answered, a joking tone present.

“Maybe, but we’re curious! Please, sensei?”

“Yeah, sensei! It’s just for fun” Yuji chimed in.

“And it’s a team building exercise to know something so personal! You’re always saying we need to communicate better,” added Nobara. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I meant that to be an exercise among you children, not me. But I will entertain this for only a moment, so listen carefully,” you told the group and they cheered like their favorite baseball player hit a home run. As you were about to spill your secret, you spotted Satoru leaning against a wall, clearly interested in the secret you were about to spill.

“I like super tall men who are lean but extremely strong. He has to be very funny and goofy but with a kind heart. White hair and striking blue eyes are also a must.”

Maki’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she exclaimed, “You like that blindfolded idiot?!”

As the kids clamored at the newfound information, Gojo took that time to approach you and the students.

“Excuse me everyone, but me and my new lover must depart,” he announced, taking your hand dramatically while leading you away to laugh at what just happened.

Noritoshi:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

You groaned. You really didn’t want Noritoshi to know about your infatuation with him. It was no secret that he had more important things to deal with than schoolyard crushes so you were afraid to confess in case it made him uncomfortable—or worse, dislike you!

“You don’t have to answer the immature question, y/n,” Noritoshi spoke up when he noticed your discomfort. You were grateful for him but you wanted to keep the peace among your classmates and judging by the death glare Todo sent to you two, you’d better start talking.

“Thank you Kamo, but I value harmony among friends so I will answer this for Todo’s amusement only. I like tall men with a bit longer dark hair and gray eyes. Having an honorable character and being good with a bow is the way to my heart.” You felt Noritoshi tense up next to you and you refused to look at him out of fear of rejection. He took you by surprise when he leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to you.

“I was caught off guard by your confession but I can’t say I don’t feel the same. Can we discuss this later?”

Todo:

“Y/n! What kind of man is your type?”

Your eyes went wide when Todo’s booming voice reached your ears. You were super into him but no one knew. You knew you couldn’t fool him with a fake answer, though, and if you were going to feel his hand for the first time, you’d rather it be from holding it with your own than having it curled in a fist and connecting with your face.

“Um… I like men that are extremely tall and buff. Dark hair, tan skin. And passionate, of course.”

“Hm! That’s a great answer! He sounds hot,” replied Todo, smirking, “but unfortunately for that perfect fake man, I’m taking you on a date first because you’re my type!”

You definitely weren’t expecting this!

Mai:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You rolled your eyes. This big oaf is going to jeopardize your friendship for sure. You really liked Mai but you figured she wasn’t into dating and all the lovey dovey stuff.

“Do I have to answer?” you asked, praying Todo had a change of heart.

“No, y/n, we all wanna know. What’s your type?” Mai chimed in, a sly grin on her face. You gulped.

“I… like women that have short, dark hair and dark eyes. If she’s taller than average that’s cool, and I love a snarky personality.”

“No way!” exclaimed Momo when she realized who you were talking about. You refused to look anyone in the eyes out of embarrassment and fear. What you weren’t expecting was Mai grabbing your hand and leading you somewhere else. Hopefully it was to talk and not get beat up!

Momo:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

You huffed in annoyance. There were always some sort of antics with this guy! You had liked Momo for awhile now but she was like an enigma to you. You could never get a good read on her so maybe telling her how you felt outright would be a good thing?

“I really like girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, and short, too. Having a cute personality is a plus as well,” you answered, hoping that was straightforward enough.

“Wait a minute, that sounds exactly like me!” Momo exclaimed, blushing slightly. You sheepishly nodded your head.

“Because it is. I have a crush you.”

The whole group erupted in a chorus of “aww’s” and “how adorable.” You were nervous that you had accidentally made her uncomfortable but your fears disappeared as she came over to sit next to you. When the students were distracted by another topic, you felt Momo’s hand rest over so slightly on top your own and you knew you made the right decision to confess.

Miwa:

“Y/n! What kind of woman is your type?”

Before you spoke, you met eyes with Miwa. It almost seemed as if she was anxious to hear what you had to say!

“Girls with dark blue eyes and are average height are my type. I also really like girls with kind hearts and are down to earth. Blue hair isn’t too bad, either,” you finished, smiling nervously. Both of you were blushing messes while Mai scoffed “Get a room!” Your classmates were just happy that the secret was out in the open—they were tired of you two dancing around your feelings for each other!