#i have been cooking up this all week this is as much for my peace of my mind than it is out of any hope the people who deliberately engage

[morphids]

Enmies to lovers hange zoe

Pls🤗🤗

the worst neighbour, hange zoë

i love enemies to lovers, it’s probably my fave trope of all time—ty anon <3

nonbinary, they/them hange.

summary: hange moves in next door and ruins your peace, until a storm forces you together.

warnings: not many so idk storms?? very sfw—a bit silly and fluffy really, minus some suggestive themes throughout, and a heavy makeout sesh at the end. poc friendly!! weed smoking- stoner!hange. r has autism but its not an integral part of the story. hange is also a lil mentally unwell.

wc: 5.7k of pure yap, enjoy.

—

When you first moved into your own place, away from the helicopters that are your stringent and unpleasant parents, you were so relieved that you could've levitated. Thinking you'd finally have a safe haven of your own. To decorate, eat, dress and generally live life on your own terms. Bills be damned! It was that - for maybe a few weeks? Until you spotted the 'For Sale' sign on the lawn of the semi-detached connected to your own. When exactly did that get put up?

Internally groaning, you already were catastrophizing— what if it's a family with five kids and two twin newborns? What if they're a crazy dog person and the dogs bark every hour and set each other off? What if it's a group of college kids who party every night?

So imagine your relief when you see a single van pull up, and only one, very tall individual lifting boxes into the building attached to yours. Quite an attractive person, at that. Hair messily pulled back, glasses framing their face, clad in a tank top underneath an oversized blazer and some loose pants. You had been stalking observing the new arrival through the gaps in your blinds. Praying that your silhouette wasn't spotted from the outside. I mean, look.. we all have to be wary of our surroundings, right? Lest there be a creep move in next door and you're none the wiser.

A few hours later, the big van outside had already left its spot on the side. There was a knock at your front door, revealing the very hot neighbour on the other side, holding a plate of some homemade stew.

You made your introductions, Hange was incredibly friendly, you couldn't deny, a wide smile stretched on their lips as they almost pushed the stew into your hands, saying, "I read that this is a good way to greet new neighbours!" It was a short, courteous greeting. You both returned to your homes soon after. You wanted to kiss the stars that you got so lucky with a pleasant hot neighbour. The stew ended up being delicious, by the way, saving you the effort of cooking your own dinner for the night.

That relief very quickly dissipated once you realised just how loud Hange was. It drove you insane. If you were maybe four years younger, you probably wouldn't have minded so much, but as a working adult with a regular 9-5, you found yourself seething at how incredibly absurd it was. You had no idea what Hange did, mind you, and you cursed the architect's firstborn for connecting your bedroom wall to Hange's. It was as if you lived next door to a busy night cafe, the buzzing whir of what you'd assumed was a stupidly designed, industrial-sized coffee machine. Grounding coffee beans together, followed by bangs of metal against the counter as they'd dumped the old ones into the trash. The walls were so unbelievably thin you could almost feel their exact movements. Every night. At three in the damn morning. Who drinks coffee that late?

The whirring seemed to vibrate through the entire structure of the house, reverberating through the walls as you laid your head against your pillow. You had taken to banging against the wall as revenge once, not so nicely letting them know they were keeping you up. Crashing out by yourself in the solitude of your bedroom. If there had been cameras installed you would've looked so unhinged and probably been sectioned to a ward to live out the rest of your days. A part of you was so aggravated that being sectioned felt like it would be a gentle kindness. You tried getting ear plugs—didn't help. The noise-cancelling headphones that you used when you were experiencing sensory overload? Nope, didn't help, it was like it was in between the walls vibrating your floor, even if you couldn't hear most of it, you still felt it.

After a few nights of not so passive-aggressive banging against the wall, Hange seemed to get the hint. Well, that and perhaps also the way you glared at them when you made your way back into your house after your shift. You weren't the greatest at verbal confrontation, you'd probably rather die than actually go and confront them in person. So, the nastiest glare you could muster was enough. Hange had been mowing their lawn, white tank top tight against their well-sculpted torso as their built arms glided the lawnmower over the grass. Lifting their hand up to wave at you as you ignored their advance for a conversation, scoffing as you quickly entered your house. At least they weren't cutting grass at night, too.

Not to mention the smell of weed that travelled through the walls, almost thickening the air with a haze. Look, you didn't care what people did in their spare time, wasn't like you were gonna call the cops over a joint but... Hange had already pissed you off so much, to the point where this was just a rotting cherry on top of your least favourite cake. It clung to your clothes, for god's sake! You wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't for one of your coworkers cheerily asking you if you were holding any because they hadn't smoked in a while, creating a very awkward, "I.. don't smoke?" on your part and an even more awkward realisation from your shocked co-worker. Embarrassed that they had accidentally outed themselves to someone who could potentially report them to the bosses. You would never, but they didn't know that.

That night, you got home and washed all your laundry, deciding to keep them in a different room where the smoke remnants didn't reach, not wanting to go through a similar situation with someone else another time.

Did I mention that they were apparently a guitar player, too? It's just hit after hit. Strumming strings late into the night and you wondered how someone could have so much nocturnal energy. They weren't unskilled, in all honesty, they were just incredibly annoying.

Fortunately, the coffee machine incidents had ceased. The relief returned as you settled yourself for the first good night's sleep in three weeks, finally feeling well-rested the next morning as you got ready for work. You should've known it wouldn't last long, though. How naive of you to think your neighbour would become reasonable overnight. This time, at around midnight, you heard drilling and the subsequent falling of wood against the floor. Perhaps Hange was doing it out of spite, unpleased with your glares every afternoon. You hadn't exactly been the nicest, but it wasn't like it was unjustified. This had been building up for almost a whole month, you had grown sleep-deprived and irritable, disgustingly moody.

Huffing to yourself, you lifted your body up off the seducing comfort of your bed. Throwing on a jumper that had been left discarded on the chair, and some slides. Mentally amping yourself for what you were about to do, trying to script how you were going to politely yell at them and burst all your inner feelings about their inconsideration.

You rapped a fist at their front door, noticing how the lights were on in each room through the window. There was silence at first, then you spotted the silhouette coming closer to the door. Revealing Hange, with a dark green woollen cardigan hanging off their slender shoulders, grey sweatpants that didn't quite cover their toned midriff. Hange puffed on a joint, leaning their weight against the doorframe.

"Wha-"

“I sweat to god, if you make more noise at night, ‘m gonna set your house on fire.”

Well, you hadn't quite scripted that particular sentence. Apparently, arson had been on your mind! Great, now you look insane and actively threatened your neighbour!

Hange's eyes widened, shock falling over their features as their mouth opened and closed.

"But...wouldn't that burn yours, too?" They half joked, half didn't. At your lack of response, and clearly unimpressed face, Hange sighed, continuing.

"Alright, I'm sorry, but you don't need to be such a bitch about it," They brought the joint to their plump lips again, trapped between their ringed thumb and index finger, huffing on it before blowing it out, directly in your face. You would've kept staring at Hange's nice hands as they gracefully held the joint, if you hadn't just been disrespected by the amount of smoke that invaded your nose, and been called a bitch added on top of that. You were stunned into silence  for a solid moment before your anger reignited, scoffing at their audacity.

"Are you serious?"

"It's not been that bad..."

"Again—are you serious?!"

Hange didn't answer, looking at you blankly, which doubly pissed you off even more.

"You've kept me awake for the past month! Are you aware that people need sleep or d'you just not care?"

Hange ignored the pangs of guilt, although not really wanting to explain their inner workings to a pretty stranger. Initially, Hange thought there'd be a good friendship built upon that first meeting, it'd been cordial— thinking you were a cute, inviting person, even thought they lucked out with a pretty neighbour right next door. Unfortunately, Hange quickly realised you both definitely weren't on the same page as they felt the wrath of your glares every afternoon. Maybe they were more oblivious than they thought.

Hange didn't truly realise the walls were so thin and you heard everything, honestly they thought your banging on the wall had been something else entirely. In hindsight, they now felt a bit silly with the realisation that it was a painfully obvious noise complaint—but it's not like they didn't have their reasons.

"Relax, man," Hange sighed, lifting themself off the doorframe and reached their arm out to offer you some joint, "You need some of this,"

Unbelievable, you gaped. Honestly, if you had to sit on a court stand to explain what happened next, you'd say you blacked out. Before you could even stop yourself, you plucked the lit joint from their fingers and let it fall down on the floor, making sure to aim for the small pool of water collected on the pavement from the rainfall earlier that day. Situation was made worse by the small hiss as the water murdered the flame, effectively soaking and ruining the entire zoot. You would've felt bad, realising they must've only sparked it a short while ago, as there was a considerable amount left— but if this was your one crime against a plethora of theirs, then so be it.

"Was there any need—"

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"I'm a dick? That was a peace offering 'n you thre-"

"Fuck your peace offering, keeping it down is the best gift you could ever give me."

Hange browns tilted up in mild amusement, blended with a healthy amount of irritation. That was the remainder of their stash, the last zoot that they had saved until all their tasks were done, and no dealer would be active this time of night.

Hange studied you for a moment, your arms crossed and viscerally annoyed— your lips curved to the side as you blew out a single strand of hair away from your face that kept falling into your eyes. Undoubtedly, adding to your frustration. Still cute, they thought, even though you did just absolutely desecrate their last zoot. Hange paralleled your body language, folding their own arms up to match yours.

Now, Hange definitely knew better than to say something like this, knew this had a 99% chance of making the situation worse. Yet, could they help it? Evidently not. Words slipping from their lips before they could withhold it.

"Yes, mama."

Silence.

At their words, Hange's amusement grew as the hardness in your face fell. You seemed to be going through all the different stages of grief. Trying to mask the evident flustering that overtook your features, caught off guard by the sudden switch up of energy that hung in the vacant space between you. Hange would've regretted it, would've expected you to curse them out even more— deserved it, even, had it not been for the softening of your voice and the confusion glazing over your eyes. They could've sworn there was something else lurking in there, something subtly dangerous.

"I-I, you—"

"Won't do it again, dear," Hange muttered, ceasing, "You have my word,"

Hange seemed to have a proclivity for stressing you out, it seems. A crooked smile etched on the corner of their lips as they watched you, deep, brown eyes boring into yours— almost challenging.

"Right—well, I'm...gonna go home now,"

"Alright, then."

Stepping down from their front porch, you let out the breath trapped in your ribs. You had been geared up for a confrontation, not that. What even was that? Hange's voice broke out from within the silence again,  in almost a mockery of friendly neighbourhood conduct.

“Always lovely seeing you,”

—

From that point, the noise had considerably decreased. You were thankful that at least something positive came from that conversation. Though, it didn't exactly simmer the annoyance lingering in your heart for Hange. You thought they were an incredibly inconsiderate asshole. Yes, they may have stopped the noise, but you couldn't simply forgive and forget the way they spoke to you. Arrogant and disrespectful. Not to mention the cocky way they ended the conversation, you hated that you had faltered at their words. Cursing yourself for your lack of a quick response and staring at them dumbly. The grudge had remained, no hatchet buried. Even if they did look like that.

You were currently all wrapped up in your fuzzy blanket, burrito style as you layered up on fabrics. The weather had been harsher than most this winter—we have the rich and wealthy to thank for shitting all over the planet and ruining the climate. Winds had been howling, trees shaking trying to stand firm against its force as you threw on the local news on your television.

You managed to catch the late part of an announcement.

"—severe weather warning, as dangerous winds from the storm expected to strike around the area. It is advised that people stay inside their homes, charge their devices and stock up on canned food. Single-person households are heavily advised to house together during this time, to account for any potential casualties—"

The television cut out with a soft click, as the lights and electricals in your house switched off simultaneously, leaving you in total darkness. If there was ever any way to freak someone out, this would definitely do it. You gaped through your window at the heavily falling rain as it splattered against the glass. Shit.

Sighing, you blindly made your way to the drawers in your kitchen. You were a bit of a candle enthusiast, so at least you had some way of illumination. Lighting the wick with some matches, you filled the darkness with a candle in each corner. It was a bit of a haunting vibe, but you could manage for the night. What was worrying you more, was the way your phone was almost out of charge. You thought of a lot of things for times like these, yet a portable charger always seemed to evade you. It was one of those, i'll buy one next time, except next time never came.

Your thoughts went to Hange, you were both considered single-person households. Perhaps, it would be safer to band together. Maybe they have a portable on hand. Battling yourself, you considered the consequences of making your way over to Hange's, asking if they had any charge to spare. Would that be embarrassing? Technically, it's for safety, humans have an evolutionary tendency to stay together in times of crisis— it's the smart thing to do. Yet, you couldn't bite back the pain of succumbing first, they might use it against you. You made your peace with the fact that if life was a survival of the fittest, you likely wouldn't make it very far.

A decision seemed to be conveniently made for you, though, as a quick repetition of knocks blasted on your door. More eagerly than you'd like to admit, you stood and answered.

Hange was stood shivering, totally drenched in the five seconds that it took to travel from their door to yours, the rain had clearly won the fight. Glasses splashed with raindrops. Their slackened hair was sticking on their forehead and cheeks, no doubt lost the fight against the wind, too.

"You can say no, but can I borrow a blanket? Turns out houses get cold with no central heating,"

You bit back a chuckle, they were just now realising that?

Hange was stood pathetically at your door, the contrast of their drenched figure against your completely dry one, was almost funny. The expression plastered over their face wasn't, though, dark eyes held a seriousness you hadn't seen in them before. Almost fearful.

"I have a few you can take."

"Thank you,"

Hange took the cue to enter your space, feeling a sense of safety with the candles brightening up the room. Grabbing some from a pile on the arm of your couch, you handed them over. Hange gratefully taking them from your grasp as they made excruciatingly slow steps towards the door. They didn't want to go back into a dark house, embarrassingly unprepared for a situation like this, they hadn't anticipated buying some candles— heck, not even one blanket.

Noticing how slowly they were walking, you spoke,

"You could dry yourself off here? Maybe get warm again before you leave?"

A look of hope flashed across Hange's eyes, as you continued, trying to blurt the invitation out into the air as quickly as you could.

"The government says that.. single occupant households should stay together—so it's the smarter choice, anyway, really."

"Well.. if the government says so, right?"

"Right! Who are we to disagree..." You say this like you ever believed the government. No one needs to know the truth, definitely not Hange. It's not that you particularly fearful of storms, but the announcement had spooked you.

There was something intuitively nipping at your gut, that there was more to Hange coming over in such a panic for just a blanket. You didn't press it.

Snuggling into the plush fabric of your couch, right in the comfortable corner, you motioned your head to indicate that Hange could also take a seat. Seeing the awkward, stiff way they were stood against the wall in your living room, even made you feel uncomfortable.

Thunder cracked in the atmosphere, booming outside as the sky lit up briefly. You didn't miss the way Hange's shoulders jerked up before they hurriedly made their way to sit down, placing a fair distance between your bodies. As one would with someone they had an altercation with only a few weeks before.

"You alright?" You couldn't help but ask, feeling like an energy absorbing rock with how obviously uncomfortable Hange was. They grabbed the pillow they had sat on and nuzzled it between their legs, wrapping their arms around the soft fabric, fiddling their fingers around the cotton tag.

"Yup.."

Heavy silence filled the air amidst the thunder and rain, the wind filling the gaps in between.

Droplets of water dripped from Hange's loose strands of hair, splashing on the pillow, leaving wet blobs seeping into the dry.

"I'll get you some dry clothes,"

"You don't have t—"

"No arguing, I'm not letting someone get hypothermia in my house."

Hange nodded, their attention back to the tag in their hands.

You quickly came back from your room with a change of clothes. Hange being slightly taller than you, you weren't sure what was best for them, or what they'd feel comfortable in. Opting for a long pair of loose shorts you usually wore for working out, and an oversized tee with a faded Hello Kitty print in the middle.

"Here, I'll leave you to get changed."

"Wait!" There was that panic again, "Could you, uh, maybe, stay? You can just turn around or something.." Their voice lowering into a whisper as they muttered the last part.

Slightly odd, you thought, but you silently nodded and turned yourself around to give Hange some privacy. Only facing them again once they gave you a 'Okay, I'm done,"

"They alright for you?"

"Yeah—thank you, they're perfect,"

Nodding again, you placed yourself back on the couch, where Hange was already comfortably placed, legs crossed with a blanket thrown over. They looked pretty cute with your Hello Kitty shirt on, cozied in your living room, perhaps it was the warm flickers of candlelight on their skin.

The air was a little awkward, neither of you quite knowing how to interact with each other. Hange was antsy, shaking their leg beside you, causing the couch to slightly rock with their movements. They seemed to catch themself doing it and ceased the movements, glancing up at you to check if they had annoyed you with the rocking. You weren't.

"You've been really kind to me," they muttered, "Thanks,"

"Crazy what a good night's sleep does to someone's psyche," You joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it came across the way you intended.

Hange cringed at your words, face twisting, "I am sorry about that, I really didn't think the walls were that thin,"

You chuckled, looking down and plucking the balls of fluff that wear and tear does to a blanket, "It's alright, I appreciate that you stopped."

"Just a little confused why you came here, when you dislike me so much," Thinking about the way they called you a bitch, at the ease with which it escaped their tongue, perhaps you were acting like one and it was deserved, but you couldn't deny that it struck a nerve. Hange gulped, looking down at the wooden flooring, raising a hand to scratch at the nape of their neck.

"I don't dislike you," They answered,

"You called me a bitch." You stated, wanting to clear the air and actually communicate like an adult should, instead of running from confrontation like you usually do.

"I did, and I'm sorry for that, too." Hange didn't meet your eyes, sighing, "You were right about the noise, calling you that was uncalled for."

"Thank you," You let out a breath, a weight lifting from your shoulders, "I'm sorry about your throwing your zoot in the water,"

Hange laughed, rubbing their face at the memory, "I get it, I'd probably have done the same, so, y'know."

"So we good?"

"Yeah," Hange chuckled, "We're good."

Hange reached into the wet pocket of their damp jacket, left in a pile on the floor, feeling around for something.

"It might be too soon—I don't wanna ruin your hospitality and you can say no, but can I light up? I-it helps me calm down,"

You did consider saying no, perhaps in any other circumstance you probably would've. If Hange hadn't been so visibly on edge, their shaking leg and twitching shoulders with each crack of thunder, you probably would've said no. Yet, with the meekness in their voice and bashful look in their eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to.

"Yeah, go ahead," You weren't sure what to make of the feeling in your stomach when Hange's eyes glimmered up at you at your response, "I don't have an ashtray, but I'll get you an old cup,"

Hange eagerly thanked you and pulled out a small tin from their pocket. Pulling out paper and some card to roll the contents of their grinder.

Sitting back down, placing the cup on the coffee table, you watched as they rolled the bud into the paper, folding it neatly into a tight cone with nimble, lean fingers. You couldn't look away as they brought the sticky part to their mouth, tongue poking out to lick at the residue to glue the paper down. You glanced away quickly as Hange caught your gaze, breaking eye contact as a wave of shame hitting you like you'd been caught doing something bad.

Clearing your throat, you took a look at your phone, checking the time, 9:08p.m with only 3% left on the battery. Great, you dropped it back into the couch, looks like you won't get much use out of that tonight. At least you were off work the following day, the weather deemed so bad that forms of transport were stopped, halting most workplaces.

Hange hesitantly brought the lighter up to meet the tip of the joint tucked between their lips, looking up at you as if to check if you had suddenly changed your mind before they sparked it. That's kinda sweet, you thought, that even with your permission, they still double checked.

Feeling satisfied that you didn't change your mind, Hange lit the joint, inhaling a few drags before releasing it out into your room. The thick smoke whirling in the air. They rested their head against the back of the couch. Allowing you to gaze upon their neck and the small exposed part of their collarbone poking out underneath the shirt collar.

Hange seemed to feel your eyes on them, tilting their head slightly to meet your gaze again with a curious expression.

"You wanna try?" Thinking that's why you had been staring.

"Uhm— I've never done it before," You rasped, truthfully you've never been against it, but living with your hard-ass parents, you'd had a pretty straight edge life, doing things most teenagers do whilst they grow their own— drinking with your friends in a park, clubbing when you were of age. The opportunity for a smoke hadn't ever come up, so you just didn't really think about it.

"No pressure, but the offer's there if you want,"

You nodded, mulling over it. Maybe you'd like to try, after all. It probably felt nicer than being drunk and messy.

"Maybe a little?"

"You sure?" Hange hummed, the zoot clearly taking effect, they were more relaxed, less jittery.

"Yeah, just don't laugh at me if I cough,"

"Oh, you definitely will cough," Hange chuckled, "But that happens to everyone, so 's alright."

Hange passed the joint over to you, carefully placing it between your fingers so it doesn't get dropped on the couch, ruining your blankets.

You looked at it for a minute, bringing it closer to your mouth, "Do I just breathe it normally?"

"Pretty much, just make sure you hold it in your lungs for a sec,"

So you did, pulling air through the roach as the weight of smoke hit the back of your throat. You tried to follow their instructions, holding it in for a few seconds before you couldn't anymore, letting out the smoke into the room with a few coughs. Hange muttered a gentle, there you go, saying that's how you know you did it right, before passing you some water.

"Ouch," You grumbled, feeling a hot wave in your chest and a slight burn at your throat, "It tastes like ass,"

Hange laughed, wholeheartedly amused at your baby lungs, "It does."

It didn't deter you enough though, taking another drag and managing to hold it without coughing this time. You saw a proud look on Hange's face, that's it, they said, you blamed the weed for making your stomach twist at their praising words.

After a few hits, you began feeling lighter, joining Hange with your head rested on the couch. Hange looked at you, the white of your eyes bloodshot as they glimmered with the candlelight. You looked pretty, eyelashes curled upwards, casting shadows on the lids as you blinked up at them.

"You never answered my question," You hummed, fiddling with the blanket, rolling it into shapes. Hange took off their glasses, the weight of them becoming uncomfortable so they placed them on the coffee table.

"What question?"

"Why you came here, you were...scared." Your question was tentative, not wanting to ruin the amiable mood.

Hange took a second to answer, choosing to puff on the remaining amount of joint before answering straight away, plugging it against the ceramic cup to make sure it was dead.

"I'm—uh," a pause, "imscaredofthedark." They mumbled, timid voice coming out like they were speaking underwater. So barely audible, you couldn't hear a damn thing.

"Huh?"

"I'm... scared of the dark, okay? Storms, too, i-it freaks me out." Hange shyly huffed, crossing their arms over their torso, avoiding eye contact like the plague. Even in the minimal lighting, you could see the embarrassment tainting their cheeks.

"Oh."

There was a taut awkwardness that hung in the air at their admission, and you found yourself feeling slightly bad for them. Unsure of what to say back, not wanting to make them feel worse.

"Look—'s not a big deal, okay? But.. the darkness and the howling winds, thunder—together, doesn't help..." Hange tried to save themselves, try to make it seem like they hadn't been close to quaking in the pitch black rooms of their house. Their electric bill each month was ludicrously high, lights in the hall or the bathroom staying on each hour of the night until the sun finally came out enough to shine through the windows each morning. Their bedroom always illuminated with lamps and decorative Christmas lights all year round. Hange and their parents thought they'd grow out of it as an adult. That didn't end up being the case.

"Okay," You breathed out, "Well, I've got a lot of candles." You pointed at the flickering wicks placed in each corner of the room. "So we're not totally in the dark, thankfully."

Another momentary pause, Hange hadn't responded, so you added, "It's not embarrassing, you know?"

"Yeah—thanks."

"Is that you're always up at night?" That had been bothering you for a while, surely it wasn't healthy for someone to stay up so late each night. You wondered how often they slept.

"A little," The muttered, covering their mouth with a loose part of the blanket, "I've had insomnia since I was a kid, and frequent night terrors, doesn't mix the best, I guess." They chuckled.

"So I try to keep myself busy at night with tasks, drinking coffee, anything to stop from falling asleep and have another one. Most people grow out of it—I just…didn't."

You hummed, the admission making you feel bad for having such a one-sided problem with Hange the last couple of months. You wouldn't have been so angry if you had known there was more to it.

Placing your palm over the back of their hand, you squeezed, Hange looked at you, the blanket shield falling down to their chest as they lifted their head, revealing their face to you once again.

"I'm sorry, I wouldn't have been such a bitch if I knew,"

"'s okay, I didn't exactly tell you, so."

You smiled at them, and attempt to be reassuring and maybe even comforting, Hange's lips quipped up, and you looked at each other longer than usual. Hange flickered their gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You felt yourself doing the same. Chest growing heavy as the air fell tender, yet apprehensive.   Hesitation outweighing want, as you realised how close you both were. Barely inches in between, lips almost meeting.

You wondered how a friendship with Hange would've developed had it not been for the mess in between. The attraction to them was undeniable, you were intrigued as soon as you set eyes on them the day they moved in.

"I really wanna kiss you," You muttered, a fleeting moment of boldness, glancing down to their lips again, they just looked so kissable. 

"What are you waiting for, then?" The corners of their lips breaking into a soft smirk, challenging you to do it first.

"Fuck," You bit the bullet, fingers threading the hair at the back of their head as you brought your heads closer, connecting your lips together. Hange sprung into action, grabbing the back of your neck closer and humming with satisfaction into the kiss.

Lips melded against each other, you sighed as you felt how soft they were. Soft and plump. Tugging at their hair, you gently nipped Hange's bottom lip, jutting it out slightly, swiping your tongue against the reddened skin. Taking the hint, Hange's mouth split open, allowing you access to enter. Hange groaned as warm tongues connected, breathing heavily at the sensation.

Pulling the blankets off—they didn't need the extra heat anymore—their hands then wrapped around the supple skin of your thighs, placing you into a straddle over their lap as they held your sides firmly. Fingers digging into your skin as you placed kisses below their ear to the bottom of their throat, their head tilted back. Hange shivered at the contact, skin raising into goosebumps as your lips touched, soft moans from their lips with their eyes shut.

Hange lifted their head, chasing your lips to meet once more, one hand placed tight at your hips, the other coming up to rub the back of your neck. Kissing Hange was delightful, you discovered, finding that you would do this forever if it was physically possible. Eventually, your lips disconnected, forehead resting against forehead as you both breathed heavily, catching breath.

Hange gazed up at you, eyes almost doe and full of mirth. Holding on to every ounce of restraint they carried in their veins, to stop themself from acting impulsively and taking you right there. You were in a similar way, but you pecked their lips again, before nuzzling your head into the crook of their neck. A silent agreement that you both should stop, perhaps do things the right way instead of acting on instinct. Sighing as Hange wrapped their strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's embrace until you found yourself slipping into a sleep, the weed had suddenly made you feel tired and sleep was the only way out. You mumbled a quiet, "Sorry.." before falling asleep on them. Hange chuckled as they realised they were trapped in place until you moved, but it didn't matter too much as the thought of sleep was growing more enticing.

After a few minutes, Hange fell asleep, too, arms still wrapped around you—the storm was still raging on, thunder still thundering, but it was the first night in years Hange slept without a nightmare.

—-

AHHHH anyway— hope u guys enjoyed <3

[constelationprize]

Okay so I wasn't going to post about this because there is a kind of person I don't want to attract to this blog and I have so blessedly few followers it might not even matter but. It's been driving me insane for days.

You guys know we can't hold people accountable on information they don't know, right?

I've seen this said in two contexts: Kevin and Thea (and the other Ravens) in regards to Jean, and Nicky and Aaron in regards to Andrew.

I won't elaborate much on Jean because TSC2 is yet to be released and I expect this to be expanded upon there, but I'm going to point out a few things: there is no proof that the Ravens at large knew exactly how old Jean was (I do not personally looked that different between 16 and 18), which is a shit excuse, but is compounded by: the Ravens are a cult with a dog-eat-dog mentality. No one there had the time or the will to think "well let's consider the ethics of this situation" because they were all locked in the fucking Torment Nexus. Riko deliberately packaged Jean and the circumstances of his SA so that it would further alienate him from the rest of the team. He was offered to them as a scapegoat and even if a single person there thought the situation looked iffy, they were not in an environment that allowed people in power to be questioned, and so no one was going to look their captain and head coach in the eye and say "hmm actually Mister Moriyama I think you're wrong". They accepted the version of events that Riko and the defensemen he picked told because they were the loudest voices and because an easy lie is so much better to hear than an ugly truth. Yes they are complicit for not seeing the red flags and cowards for not standing up if they did, this does not mean that their actions were senseless or purely out of some inherent moral cruelty.

But most of all: none of them saw a need to defend Jean because JEAN never defended HIMSELF. And yes, WE THE AUDIENCE know why that was, but you cannot expect everyone to. Jeremy knew, because he was outside of the situation and already looking for signs of abuse in Jean.

So, while I don't LOVE how Thea seems to have reacted to Jean's assault, I understand why she did it. (And if Nora hadn't been bullied off of writing her, I would have loved to see her come to terms with how she played a part in the abuse of someone she clearly cares about). As for Kevin, Jean himself says he did his best to not let him know the full truth of the situation, and for other reasons I have my theories, but I will just sit back and let TSC2 prove me right on this one.

Now, about Andrew. It fucking baffles me how anyone can interpret Nicky and Aaron as deliberately malicious toward Andrew for no reason when they have made sacrifices to stand by his side for no reward at all.

Aaron's first contact with Andrew is a hopeful letter he wrote as an abused child longing for love and connection, which Andrew just threw back in his face. When Andrew is in juvie, Aaron tries AGAIN, even though he had no reason to believe it would work, and for all intents and purposes it looks like it doesn't change a thing when Andrew moves in with him! He is cold and cruel and distant and he kills Aaron's mother and buys a sports car with the life insurance money. Can you really blame Aaron for believing Andrew's motives are petty when Andrew himself goes out of his way to pretend they are? He bought a car. With the life insurance. Of the woman he murdered in a car accident.

What is more likely: that the brother with a history of violence who has pushed you away at every try killed your mother as revenge for her abandoning him? Or that he did it to be the first person to ever keep a promise to protect you?

And even after that, when Aaron truly believes that Andrew does not and cannot care about him, he makes a second deal to keep Andrew in his life. And then renovates it through college. He can't hold a single conversation with Andrew and he still won't let him go. Aaron reaches for Andrew in the only form he knows that Andrew will reach back even as he tells himself that it's for nothing.

I won't even talk about Nicky because that man left his only chance at happiness behind in a heartbeat to care for two teenagers who were all but strangers to him just because he (correctly) believed no one else would.

It's so crazy to look at this story, a tragedy about how the Minyard-Hemmick children were so systematically failed by the adults in their lives that they were subjected to horrible abuse, and the consequences of that made it so they had incompatible coping methods that stood in the way of them being capable of understanding each other, and those misunderstandings only drove them apart even as they were holding onto each other for dear life, and ask: Oh but why didn't they notice Andrew's trauma? :(

Bitch they tried!!!!! But at the point that Andrew even met Aaron and Nicky, he was past believing that the truth would make a difference, so he didn't even try to tell them; rather, as Nicky says multiple times, he did his best to push them away and make them believe there was nothing behind his attitude other than cruelty. And they still stood by him ANYWAY. Not even Neil, who has more context than both of them, figures out the truth of what Andrew went though until the literal last minute. Because Andrew, and repeat this with me, didn't want them to know, and they were not fucking mind readers.

It is so naive to believe that every single person who struggles does so openly; or even that if they do, that they'll accept help just because you, who Knows and Fixes everything, offered it. Be so for real. If there is one thing AFTG does well is portray realistic trauma responses and how people from the outside perceive them. Try to learn something from that, or if you don't want to, at least try not to publicly put your foot in your mouth so much.

[smileysuh]

good & bad

🌙 staring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, horny!gyu, dom!wonwoo, Wonwoo tells virgin!Gyu what to do, hand job, Wonwoo using his power to help y/n ride Mingyu, manhandling, size kink, groping, nipple pinching, praise, degradation, voyeurism, pussy stretching, cream pie, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous & baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.8k

🍭 aus. superpower au, uni au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I was thirsting for another Meanie fic and I came up with this super power, I'd never seen it before and I thought it would be fun :)

Prologue:

“We thought she just had an active imagination,” your mother explained, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a soft squeeze. “Most kids show signs of powers when they’re six or seven, she’s ten now, so we just thought maybe she wouldn’t have any. Her father is a none-supe, so we came to terms with it years ago.”

The doctor was looking over your family file, and she nodded softly, looking up at your mother, then to you. “When did you first see signs that these imaginary friends of hers weren’t just in her own head?”

“There were little things,” your mother admitted. “I was cooking one night and she was drawing. When I looked again, the paper next to her had this image on it- a completely different art style to what she had been doing. When I asked her who drew it, she told me that Mingyu had.”

“Mingyu is one of her imaginary friends, correct?”

“Yes, she has Mingyu, who at first was described as the ‘good’ one, and Wonwoo, the ‘bad.’”

“Something akin to an angel and devil on your shoulder,” the doctor nodded. 

“Exactly.”

“After the art incident?”

“She was outside one day, tossing a ball around, and the ball bounced back to her, like some invisible person had thrown it back. At first, we thought maybe she had some sort of telekinesis, but she told me she was playing catch with Wonwoo.”

“So this was the first instance you saw proof that one of her imaginary friends could actually manipulate real-life objects, correct?”

“Yes.”

The doctor leaned back in her chair. “Are there any other events that have happened that push you to believe these imaginary friends of hers are real and it’s not a telekinesis power?”

“Well, y/n fell off her bike last week. Her knee was all scraped up. I was about to run and get bandages when this soft glow appeared over her knee. The scrape disappeared and she told me that Mingyu had healed her.”

“Very interesting.” The doctor had looked at you then, rolling forward on her chair. “Can I see your knee, please?”

You lifted the hem of your dress, showing your leg. There wasn’t so much as a scratch where Mingyu had healed you, and your ‘imaginary friend’ leaned over the doctor's shoulder to inspect his work. 

“Can one of these imaginary friends move an object in the room for us?” The doctor had asked next. “Perhaps, a book on the shelf over there?”

“Wonwoo can do that,” you’d nodded, gazing over at the boy your age who was leaning by the door, a disinterested look on his face.

With a sigh, he’d approached the bookshelf, reaching for a copy of War and Peace. The book had clattered to the ground.

“I don’t like being paraded around like this,” Wonwoo had mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Very interesting,” the doctor nodded. “It appears there might be some power at work here. I’ve never heard of a power like this one- two imaginary friends, one of which has healing abilities. I’ll make a note of it, and we will see how the power progresses with age. It’s possible as your daughter grows, so will the strength of these friends of hers.”

“Do you mean…” Your mother looked down at you nervously. “Is it possible we’ll ever see these friends ourselves? Or do you think they’ll stay invisible forever?”

“It’s anyone’s guess on that. As I said, I’ve never seen a power like this one. All we can do is wait and see what happens.”

one 

You’re seated on a musty old couch in the middle of a loud frat party, and a large part of you really doesn’t want to be here. Even with your friend Joshua keeping you company, you’re not here for yourself, and that always feels obvious to those around you.

Your gaze keeps shifting to Wonwoo, who’s having the time of his life. He’d done a keg stand the moment you’d arrived, and now, he’s in the middle of an arm wrestle with Seungcheol, the frat president, who, like your dark protector, also has a strength power variation.

Dino, a new pledge approaches you, handing a fresh cup of alcohol to Joshua. Like you, Dino’s eyes are locked on Wonwoo. “Tell me again why that dude isn’t part of the frat? I’ve never seen anyone go toe to toe with Seungcheol like this.”

“Should I tell him, or do you want to?” Joshua grins, bumping his shoulder against your own.

“You can tell him,” you sigh. In the past ten years since you found out you had an unusual power, you’ve gotten tired of explaining it.

“Dino, this is y/n, y/n this is Dino. Dino, y/n has a power where she has two imaginary friends, except, these days, they’re not so imaginary,” Joshua begins. “Wonwoo is one of y/n’s imaginary friends-”

“Wonwoo prefers the term companions,” you quip.

“Right, one of her companions,” Joshua corrects himself. “He’s got super strength like Cheol does. The reason Wonwoo’s not in the frat is because he can’t go more than a ten-meter radius from y/n, he’s tethered to her.”

“That’s a weird power,” Dino muses.

“Don’t be rude,” Joshua snaps, smacking the pledge’s arm. “Anyways, y/n’s not a huge fan of frats, so Wonwoo can’t join because she won’t be caught dead here more than once, maybe twice, a week.”

“My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”

“You said you have two uh… companions, where’s the other?” Dino asks, looking around.

“Mingyu’s staying inside tonight, he doesn’t agree with this sort of thing,” you sigh.

“Staying in?” Dino’s brows furrow in confusion. “I thought you said there was a radius thing?”

“Staying in here.” You tap your head. 

“He’s… inside your head?” Dino’s face scrunches up in something like disgust. “You have a dude in your head right now?”

Before you can answer, another frat boy comes running up. Seungkwan looks frazzled, his shirt haphazardly buttoned, eyes wide. “Y/N!” he bellows. “Quick, I need Mingyu! Some kid is greening out and puking in the bathroom upstairs!”

In an instant, your light protector appears next to you. Mingyu stands up quickly, face already shadowed with concern. “Show me where.”

“Jesus-” Dino jumps from the sudden emergence of the six-foot-two brick wall of a man. 

“Come on,” Mingyu urges, grabbing your hand to pull you from the couch. You let out an annoyed groan as he drags you through the crowd after Seungkwan, leaving Joshua and Dino in your wake.

You arrive to the second-floor bathroom, and you wait outside while Mingyu goes to investigate. Ever since the frat found out Mingyu has healing powers, they call on him for any sort of drunken mistake, including greening out. One touch from Mingyu can clear nausea, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his powers.

You’re at a university dedicated to helping people train their abilities, and yet, you often feel like an outsider. It had been clear that you’d been struggling when you arrived, after all, you yourself don’t have any overt powers other than being connected to two men with astounding abilities, and that’s when you’d been assigned a therapist.

This whole ‘do things for Wonwoo and Mingyu’ idea has been a lot to wrap your head around, but you’re trying to make it work-

Wonwoo bounds up the stairs, his eyes alight with anger. “What are you two doing up here?” he practically growls.

“Mingyu’s helping some kid who greened out,” you explain.

“Of course he is, fucking knight in shining armor. Doesn’t he know this is my night? He’s ruining it with good deeds- pulled me away from beer pong.”

You sigh. “Discuss this with him.”

“I will,” Wonwoo states, pushing past you to enter the bathroom.

Releasing a deep breath, you sink against the wall, listening to the two men argue. Their words are muffled by the loud music that thrums through the house, and you don’t particularly care to know the details of their heated exchange.

You’re exhausted, and after looking at your phone for the time, you decide enough is enough. Pushing your head into the bathroom, you find Mingyu and Wonwoo holding each other by the front of their shirts, and their argument stops the moment you appear.

“It’s past midnight, I want to leave,” you sigh.

“But-” Wonwoo begins.

“That’s a good idea!” Mingyu grins.

“Wonwoo, I know this is your night, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this right now.”

Wonwoo frowns at your words, then releases Mingyu. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”

two

“You seem agitated,” the therapist notes, watching the way Mingyu is fidgeting on the couch.

“It’s just…” he casts a sideways glance at you and Wonwoo, seated next to him with noise canceler headphones on, “I worry that they can hear me.”

“I can promise you they can’t. The noise cancellers are playing loud music. This is your time to talk with me.”

“Still…” Mingyu frowns, “it feels weird.”

“We can ask Wonwoo to go back inside y/n’s head if you’d like.”

“I don’t want that either, Wonwoo prefers to be outside.”

The therapist looks down at her notes. “Tell me more about that. What does being ‘inside’ feel like.”

“It’s dark,” Mingyu explains. “I can’t really explain it. Wonwoo and I don’t sleep, so I don’t know what sleep is like- but I’m pretty sure it’s not just dark boredom the way being inside feels.”

“Do you both have a preference for being ‘out’ then?”

“I mean… it’s a whole lot nicer than being in.”

“Have you ever discussed this with y/n?” The therapist cocks her head, and it’s clear she’s trying to understand, but Mingyu’s still not used to her.

“No. She has enough on her plate, especially now with the whole ‘give Wonwoo time to do what he wants to do’ thing.” Mingyu looks down at his hands, and he picks at his skin.

“I take it you don’t enjoy doing what Wonwoo wants to do.”

“No, and neither does y/n. My night in control is all about good food, relaxing, and watching Netflix. Wonwoo’s night in control is frat parties, keg stands, and getting into fights.”

“Sounds like comfort versus destruction.”

“Destructive is a good word to describe Wonwoo,” Mingyu admits. 

“Aside from your feelings on frat parties and keg stands and fights, do you think you each having time to choose what’s happening has been beneficial?”

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Wonwoo has been less of a dick lately.” 

“That’s good news.” The therapist jots down some notes. “If I may, from the way I understand y/n’s power, you and Wonwoo are both parts of her. Opposing parts, but parts nonetheless. Do you think it’s possible that seeing as you’re both parts of her, there’s some part of y/n, perhaps even some part of you, that enjoys frat parties?”

Mingyu only shrugs.

“From what I understand, you mostly stay in during Wonwoo’s controlled times. If you weren’t so focused on disagreeing with his morals, or whatever it is you do disagree with, are there things about frat parties that you might like?”

“Maybe.” Mingyu picks at his skin again. “I do like to dance.”

“What if I challenge you to be out more at frat parties, to let loose and give it a chance?”

“I’ll do it because you’re asking me to, but I’m not sure how good it will feel.”

“Maybe that’s something to discuss at our next one-on-one.”

Mingyu can only shrug. He’s been tied to Wonwoo for over ten years now, and he doubts much could change the destructive, obnoxious way he views your darker half.

three

When you’d been accepted to a superpower-focused university, you’d been enrolled in things that would benefit both Mingyu and Wonwoo’s powers. For Wonwoo, you have to go to the gym with him and watch him lift obscene amounts of weight. The gym isn’t your favorite place, but at least you can get a workout while he trains. For Mingyu, on the other hand, he’s doing healer training in the hospital, and due to doctor-patient confidentiality, you’re stuck sitting in the hallway outside the exam room where he heals people. 

It’s quite boring. 

The one shining grace is that Wonwoo often sits with you, and the two of you watch anime on your phone together. Although Wonwoo doesn’t complain as much as he used to about being bored, you can tell from his slouched stance and heavy sighs that he’s just as tired of this whole thing as you are.

“You know,” you say, nudging him between episodes, “you don’t have to sit with me.”

“If you have to be here, I have to be here.”

“You can go back inside, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I’m entertaining, you’re less bored when I’m here,” Wonwoo insists. “Waiting for Mingyu is boring. You weren’t bored at the frat though, because frats are infinitely more fun than hospitals.”

“It might be boring,” you admit, “but… either way, it’s nice to see you both thriving. I think this therapy thing has been helpful with seeing all sides of this power.”

“As long as you’re thriving too,” Wonwoo notes, casting you a sideways glance. “It will be girls' night soon- you can have a whole night without us.”

“For real this time?” You narrow your eyes at the man who had ‘popped out’ during your last girls' night. While you enjoy Wonwoo’s company, both he and Mingyu make it very difficult to have female friends, who always get caught up in a sense of longing for the gorgeous men. 

“For real,” Wonwoo sighs. 

“Good, because if I get propositioned by one of my friends again for them to get a chance to sleep with one of you, I might just poke my eye out with a fork.”

Wonwoo lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that’s something you want to talk about with the therapist in your next session.”

“Maybe it is,” you huff, hating whenever Wonwoo says something that’s actually valid.

Your eyes turn back to your phone, where the anime has progressed through its recap and intro. As boring as sitting in a hospital for hours is, Wonwoo does make it a little bit easier.

four

Wonwoo appreciates Mingyu staying inside your head for his therapy sessions. It’s less stress having only you seated next to him, your noise cancellers on, your head leaned back, eyes closed. He thinks you might be sleeping, and he’s happy you can rest while his psyche is getting poked and prodded by the therapist. 

“How are your classes going?” 

“Fine,” Wonwoo murmurs.

“Elaborate on the word fine.”

He shrugs. “Fine. Not good, not bad. Just… fine.”

“What’s the not good aspect of that?”

Wonwoo looks up at the therapist. He doesn’t want to open up, but you’ve encouraged him that this is the place to do it.

With a loud sigh, he leans back against the couch. “I guess… last week we had a class about prospective jobs for people with strength powers, and I don’t know… all the other guys have options. They could join superhero teams, make a difference- and I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“No, I can’t,” Wonwoo repeats. “I’m tied to y/n. Anywhere I go, she has to be within a ten-meter radius. I couldn’t run into danger and worry about her getting hurt. She’s my priority, not anyone else. No matter how much I want to do more with my power- I can’t.”

The therapist cocks her head at him, assessing him with analytic eyes. “It sounds like you’re saying you feel like perhaps your skills are being… repressed, in a way.”

“I guess you could say that.” Wonwoo looks down. “I just… it’s not as bad for Mingyu. He could get a job at a hospital and y/n would be safe there. She’d be bored out of her fucking mind. But she wouldn’t be in danger. I’m starting to think that’s the best path forward, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“Do you think y/n would prefer that path?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t talked about it with her.”

“For three people so closely tied together, it seems as though there’s not as much communication about the important things as there could be.”

“We talk,” Wonwoo insists.

“When was the last time you all talked about something important?”

Wonwoo can feel hot anger bubbling up inside of him, but luckily, he has a quick example. “We talked about how we feel about this whole sharing time thing.”

“And?”

“Mingyu and I both like it, but… as much as y/n says she’s okay with it, I’m pretty sure it’s draining her to be bored all the time.”

“Earlier you said being tied to y/n has restrictions, do you think being tied to the two of you has restrictions for y/n too?”

“Clearly it does.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Some days, I think she’d prefer to be powerless and be at a regular university.”

“Has she ever voiced that to you?”

“She never would, even if she felt it. No matter what it might look like to outsiders, the three of us care about each other. Or… well, I care about y/n, and so does Mingyu, and she cares about us.”

“You and Mingyu still haven’t been getting along I take it.”

“Nope.”

“And yet, Mingyu is inside right now. He’s giving you space to have a private conversation, which is a grace you don’t return when it’s his chance to talk with me one-on-one.”

“I hate being inside her head.” Wonwoo has never told you this, but most nights, when you go to sleep, he waits for you to be fully passed out before coming out again. He sits on the couch, watches anime- Mingyu’s gotten on his case for it a number of times, but Wonwoo hates boredom like he hates sand, hot weather, and the way Mingyu hums to himself when he cooks for you. “I don’t like being inside,” Wonwoo states again, more firmly this time.

“If you had your preference, how often would you be out?”

The answer comes quickly, “A hundred percent of the time.”

“And this is not something you can talk about with y/n?”

“It would make her uncomfortable,” Wonwoo says. “She never talks about it, but- she’d never had a proper relationship, she can’t with two dudes in her head or hanging around all day. I bet she can’t even touch herself without worrying me or Mingyu will pop out- I can imagine it would be very uncomfortable, and if I asked to be out all the time, it would put even more pressure on her. I don’t want that.”

“You care about her a lot.”

Wonwoo doesn’t see the need in responding.

The therapist clicks her pen. “Do you often think about these things? About… y/n’s sexual restrictions due to you and Mingyu?”

A wave of heated anger flashed over Wonwoo’s skin at the question. “I’m not a fucking pervert.”

“I never said you were, I’m just trying to understand the way this unique power affects that aspect of y/n’s life, of your life. Humans are sexual beings, and repression of desires like that can lead to anyone being pent up and frustrated.”

“If you’re asking if I’m a virgin, I’m not.”

“No?”

“Y/N’s had sleepovers with other girls since coming to university. More than one of her friends has propositioned me.”

“How frequent are these… encounters?”

“Not at all now. Y/N was getting upset with her friends falling for me, and sometimes I felt it was unfair to the girl. I can never have a relationship. On top of that, I felt bad keeping it a secret from y/n.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “It’s better for everyone if I keep it in my pants.”

five

Girls' night is going very well so far. You and two friends have already watched a movie, and now, while checking for your next rom-com, you’re all chatting about classes.

Jenni has ice powers, and she’s progressed an astounding amount already with how long she can use them. Yeji, on the other hand, can manipulate sound waves, and there have been all sorts of weird ways she’s adapted that for offensive and defensive situations.

It sucks sometimes to listen to them gush about their powers while you don’t really have any of your own. Besides Mingyu and Wonwoo, you feel like you’re just y/n. You yourself have no super strength or healing, no mind reading or telekinesis- you’re… just y/n, and in a university surrounded by amazing power wielders, it can be hard to hold your head high.

“Anyways, enough about us,” Jenni says, turning her eyes to you, “How are Wonwoo and Mingyu doing? I heard Mingyu’s one of the top healing power students this year.”

“Yeah, they’re doing good,” you shrug. “We’ve been spending more time at the hospital, Mingyu seems happy to be helping people.”

“He’s definitely the good one,” Yeji nods, flashing a grin at Jenni. “Are they gonna pop by tonight? They’re both uh… really hot.”

“I don’t think so… this is girls' night.”

You don’t miss the way Yeji frowns or the way she exchanges a glance with Jenni. 

“Anyways,” you turn to the TV, “should we start our movie?”

The girls nod and you begin to watch your next rom-com. You try to enjoy having just girl time, but soon, you start to get hungry. 

“How do you feel about ramen?” you ask.

“Oooh yum!” Yeji’s eyes brighten at the idea, and you immediately stand to go to the kitchen.

You haven’t even reached for a pot to boil water when you feel a presence beside you, and you turn to look up at Mingyu.

“You guys need a cook?” he grins. 

You let out a sigh, turning to see if Yeji and Jenni have noticed Mingyu, but they’re leaning together discussing classes.

“Gyu,” you whisper, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I thought maybe you’d wanna relax and I could cook?”

“Wait-” you narrow your eyes at him, “this is the second time in two weeks you’ve popped up at the exact time something was convenient for you. First with someone getting sick at the frat, and now with cooking-”

Mingyu looks guilty, and you cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “Look… my uh… my power has been getting a little better and I kind of have a general sense for your thoughts when I’m in your head now.”

“What!?” You can’t help the way your voice raises, and you see Jenni and Yeji whip to look at you from over the couch. “Since when!?”

“Just for a bit-” Mingyu raises his hands in defense. “Look, I especially didn’t hear anything about Yeji calling me hot like two seconds ago.”

Now you’re mortified, and one look at your friend’s pink face shows you she is too-

Before you can say another word, Wonwoo appears, and he gives you a once over, then Mingyu. “I uh… sensed a disturbance in the force.”

He’s such a nerd, and in an odd way, he actually calms you down a little. “You know what? Fuck it. Mingyu, you can cook for us, but when you’re done, you’re both going to my room and wearing headphones and not eavesdropping on my girls' night!”

“Okay, you got it.” Mingyu turns to begin making the ramen, and before you can go to join your friends, Wonwoo grabs your arms.

“Uh, sorry about this,” he apologizes, and you’re shocked he’s apologizing for Mingyu’s behavior. “Neither of us really like being ‘inside,’ I think… he was just looking for an excuse not to be cooped up.”

“I’m very sorry,” Mingyu says over his shoulder.

“Look- we can talk about all of this later,” you sigh, trying to process what Wonwoo just said. “Please just- this is my night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “We’ll try not to be a bother.”

six

At this point, you’re pretty sure neither Wonwoo or Mingyu can hear you talking to the therapist, after all, whenever you have the headphones on, everything else is muted by music. Even so, if they were to hear you, part of you wouldn’t care.

“It was girls’ night,” you state. “Girls’ night. My night. And even though I asked them to stay inside and not interrupt, they still popped out! And it turns out, their powers have been getting better, so now, even when they’re inside, they can sense my thoughts?! I have no privacy! It’s a disaster!”

“Deep breaths,” the therapist encourages you. “I can see why that would be frustrating.”

“Very frustrating!” You let out a deep sigh, and you’re shocked when it helps calm you down. “The thing that really bugs me though- is Wonwoo said they don’t like being inside.”

“What about that bugs you?”

“Because now I feel bad- now I feel like I’m being a bad friend whenever I ask them to go back inside- but, a girl needs alone time. She needs girl time- without two hot guys walking around and making her friends drool and go all googly-eyed!”

“What about your friends ogling Mingyu and Wonwoo frustrates you?”

“I guess- it’s more than the fact that they’re both hot,” you admit. “I think- sometimes I think I feel lesser to begin with because I don’t have any overt powers. I feel powerless in a university of power holders. It’s hard to make friends if you can’t do anything flashy- I never know if girls are friends with me for me, or for them.”

“Let's touch on that feeling of being lesser for a moment, then we can circle back to everything else,” your therapist suggests. “You said you feel powerless, although, the way I see it, you have two top-tier protectors. Mingyu is the highest-ranked in his healing classes, and his professors say he’s extremely gifted. And Wonwoo is strong, he’ll protect you no matter what.”

“But those are their powers, not mine.”

“They only exist because of you. Have you ever thought about your future after this? After school?”

“Not extensively,” you admit.

“How would you feel about being outside an operating room, about Mingyu being the main breadwinner and using his powers to take care of you?”

This isn’t something you’ve ever considered, and the notion takes you by surprise. 

“Many people use their powers to make a living, Mingyu is no different, and since he’s an extension of you, allowing him to use his power to take care of things would be moral, it would be natural even, don’t you think?”

“Are you suggesting I be a pretty little stay-at-home powerless tether to a healer?” you ask.

“It’s one possible outcome if that’s something you’d be interested in.” The therapist cocks her head at you. “You enrolled in this university, obviously you care about Wonwoo and Mingyu furthering their powers- I would find it difficult to see you go through all of this only to get a regular job that doesn’t utilize them.”

“I really have not thought that far ahead.”

“Think that far ahead for a moment. Tell me your ideal situation.”

You sit there, thinking. The Mingyu outcome she’d just painted was interesting, so you dare to consider a Wonwoo option. Could you go with him on hero missions? No. He wouldn’t let you. The Wonwoo path wouldn’t be good for anyone. Wonwoo gets distracted enough about your safety when you try new weight machines.

“Maybe… maybe going forward with Mingyu’s healing career would be good.” 

“Healers with the aptitude he has go far in this life,” your therapist notes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about money, or getting hurt.”

“But what about…” You bite your tongue. When Mingyu and Wonwoo had first become visible to others when you were fourteen, it felt like a dream, but when you’d been sixteen and unable to spend time with boys for fear of one appearing- you’d started to realize the downside to having two constant protectors. You try not to think about having a relationship too often, but now that you’re being asked to consider your future, you know you’d be happier to have someone in your life five years from now- even a week from now if that was possible.

“What are you thinking?” the therapist asks.

“Just that… as years go by, I feel like my hopes for getting a boyfriend diminish more and more. If we’re talking about my future, the one thing I know for sure is that I want someone to share it with.”

“You have someone. Two someones, in fact.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Are you suggesting…”

The therapist shrugs, sending you a girlie smile, one Yeji has sent your way multiple times before. “Are you interested in either of them that way?”

“I mean… sure… look at them.” You cast a sideways glance at Wonwoo, then Mingyu. “But… would it be weird to do that? They’re part of me, aren’t they?”

“Self-love and acceptance is the most important part of life, or so many Yogi’s say.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I’ve always thought maybe that would be crossing a line.”

“What line?”

“An invisible one?” you suggest, not quite having the words to explain it yourself. 

“Listen, I understand why this might be daunting. It would change the dynamic, as I’m sure you know, but, if you are looking to be romantic with someone, or two someones, I know that it would be hard to find a man who would care about you and want to take care of you the way Mingyu and Wonwoo do.”

“Is it okay for you to be suggesting this?” you ask.

“My job is to further your development, to straighten out any roughness in this dynamic. I’ve not shared this with you yet, but my power is to see auras. Whenever you talk about Mingyu or Wonwoo, your aura lightens, it’s a sign of love. Theirs lighten when they’re talking about you too. Wonwoo’s in particular is quite dark, but whenever you come up, he’s shockingly thoughtful and candid. Mingyu’s easy to read, as I’m sure you know. They both care about you, and you care about them.”

“I guess- if they feel that way, why haven’t they ever said anything?”

“You’re the boss, y/n, I think sometimes maybe you forget that.”

seven

If there’s one thing all three of you can agree on, it’s anime. Nights spent watching shows together are always very civil, and you enjoy the peace of this, even as you begin to get a little sleepy.

When you yawn for the third time, Mingyu turns to you. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Nah, not bed, I think I just need a nap,” you explain. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to go back inside, I can just… curl up here and rest for a bit.”

You and Mingyu are on the main couch, with Wonwoo on the solo seater just next to you. You lay down, but Mingyu’s so big and takes up half of the space, so your feet end up haphazardly on top of his lap, and it’s not the most comfortable position.

“Do you want me to be the big spoon?” Mingyu suggests.

“That would be nice,” you admit.

You don’t often get that close to Mingyu and Wonwoo, but on rare occasions, when you’re feeling an extra need for protective energy, you’ve found yourself as a little spoon.

Carefully getting behind you, Mingyu opens up the space so you can stretch your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you curl up to the pillow, with Mingyu’s warmth heating your back. 

You close your eyes, and while you are able to rest, you aren’t able to fall asleep.

Your mind is too full of thoughts about your last therapy session. Now that a professional has given you the go-ahead to explore things sexually with your two protectors, it’s frequently at the forefront of your mind. Having Mingyu’s strong body behind you isn’t helping any of these dirty thoughts, and you do your best to readjust slightly, trying to get into the most comfortable position in the hopes that you’ll pass out.

“You good?” Wonwoo asks. 

“You seem fidgety,” Mingyu notes. 

“Just thinking,” you sigh. 

Wonwoo casts you a glance. “About?” 

“Just…” Should you tell them? “I guess I had a kind of weird chat in therapy yesterday.”

“Our therapist is definitely a little unconventional,” Wonwoo agrees, and from the look on his face, you can tell he’s had an interesting chat or too as well.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Mingyu asks softly, his hand soothing against your arm.

“We were talking about the future,” you explain. “She asked what I wanted with my life. I hadn’t thought about it much before, but… I did tell her that one thing I’ve always wanted is a relationship. I don’t see myself getting old and being alone, you know?”

“You’ll never be alone,” Mingyu assures you, wrapping his arm tight around you to pull you close to his chest. “We’ll always be here with you.”

“And that’s the thing,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m out here wishing for a life partner, when I already have two.”

The room goes quiet, neither of your protectors say anything. You hear Mingyu take in a sharp breath, and Wonwoo looks at the man over your shoulder. There’s an unspoken communication between the two of them, and then Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours.

“What are you saying, y/n?” he asks.

“I guess… what I’m saying is…” You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage. “What if… what if we gave it a try?”

“Gave it a try?” Mingyu repeats.

“You know, it.” You look at him over your shoulder, willing him to understand.

“I think you need to spell it out for him,” Wonwoo chuckles. “He’s such a goody toe shoes he doesn’t get that you’re propositioning us for sex.”

“She’s what?” Mingyu’s lips part in confusion, and he looks between you and Wonwoo.

“I mean, unless you don’t want to-” You’re quick to try to back out of this, feeling anxious that you’d ever even brought it up.

“We want to,” Wonwoo assures you. “Mingyu’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”

“Have you really?” you ask, blinking up at your bright protector. 

“I uh… well…” Mingyu stammers, his skin turning a cute shade of pink.

“And what about you, Wonwoo?” you turn, looking at the stoic man. “Are you in love with me too?”

“I’m the bad one, remember?” Wonwoo smirks. “As if I’d get sappy like he does.”

“I feel like that’s a yes,” you grin, heart thundering in your chest at this new development. “How come neither of you ever said anything.”

“We’re not big fans of putting pressure on you,” Mingyu says softly.

“It would also change things,” Wonwoo notes.

“Yeah, but, part of me thinks it would change things for the better,” you admit.

“So…” Wonwoo pauses your show, turning to face you and Mingyu. “Are we going to do this?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, giving a quick nod.

“Yeah?” Behind you, Mingyu presses closer, his hand caressing your arm again, his breath hot along your throat. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I think he wants to hear you say it,” Wonwoo grins. “We both do.”

“I want…” your words falter, but you’re quick to steady yourself even as Mingyu rubs his clothed cock against your ass. “I want you both to fuck me.”

Mingyu presses his lips to your neck, it’s a soft kiss, but it sets your body on fire. You let out a sigh of delight, tilting your head to give him more access. Tingles of pleasure erupt across you as he continues to press his gentle lips to your skin, his hand slipping down to cup your hip.

He squeezes you, almost enough to hurt, and it’s a rough motion from your generally gentle giant- it betrays how he feels, how deeply he wants you, and it makes you moan in excitement.

“We should move into the bedroom,” Wonwoo directs, standing from the single sofa. “Come on,” he reaches down for you, easily lifting you from Mingyu, who lets out an annoyed whine.

Sometimes you forget Wonwoo has the power of strength, and he carries you like you weigh nothing. His gaze is forward, his intentions set on getting to your bed, and it’s so incredibly sexy you think you might die.

“How do you want to do this?” Wonwoo asks softly.

“Hmm?” You’re a little shocked at the question, and it takes you a moment to even register it. “Oh, uh… no anal?”

Wonwoo laughs, looking down at you with those pretty eyes of his. “Yeah, that feels a little advanced for you.”

“Fuck you, I can be advanced!”

“Sure you can, just not tonight.” Wonwoo places you on the bed, and Mingyu, who had been following the two of you, is quick to big spoon you again, his lips returning to your throat.

Your eyes are on Wonwoo, and after a moment of watching you, he gets onto the bed too, facing you.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Uh huh.”

Wonwoo only laughs, shaking his head slightly before he brings his mouth to your own. It’s a soft kiss, and it takes you off guard. Behind you, Mingyu is getting more and more restless, all hands and tongue- but Wonwoo, in contrast, feels as cool, calm and collected as a cucumber.

At this point, Mingyu is practically dry-humping your butt, grinding his front against you and moaning. His sounds are awfully distracting, and you break your kiss with Wonwoo to look over your shoulder at the man who immediately grabs you to bring your lips to his.

Wonwoo lets out a chuckle again. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, Mingyu’s a virgin. The good news is, that means he’ll be easy to teach.”

“I’ll be good,” Mingyu murmurs against your lips.

“Wait.” You turn to look at Wonwoo again. “He’s a virgin… you’re not?”

“I’m the bad one, you keep forgetting that,” Wonwoo laughs. “It’s not like you’re an angel either.”

That’s true, so you choose not to dwell on it. Instead, you grab Mingyu’s hand on your hip, guiding it down to your abdomen, then bellow the waistband of your sweatpants. 

“Do you want to direct him, or should I?” you challenge Wonwoo, who cocks a brow at your change in tone.

“Touch her pussy, Gyu. Tell me how wet she is.”

Mingyu moans in your ear as his hand explores further down, his fingers brushing over your clit then between your pussy lips. “Fuck, she’s so wet, and so warm-”

“Tease her a little. Her clit is at the top, it’s this small, pearl-shaped bud. Girls love it when you play with that. She’ll be dripping by the time you’re done.”

God, hearing Wonwoo talk like this is taking your breath away, and you squirm as Mingyu does as he’s told, his touch lingering on your clit.

“I found it,” Mingyu groans, pressing his cock against your ass again. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Feels so good, Gyu,” you whine, your hands reaching out to grab Wonwoo’s broad shoulders like an anchor. 

Wonwoo watches your every expression. “Once she’s wet enough, you can try to slide one of your fingers into that tight pussy of hers. It’s important to stretch her out since I know you’re packing.”

A shiver runs through you now. Mingyu’s big- you know it in your bones, you feel it against your ass- 

“Can I?” Mingyu asks, sucking on your ear lobe. “Can I put my finger in your tight, wet pussy?”

You nod. “Please-”

He teases your opening, and you wait with bated breath for him to finally push in. When he does, you both moan loudly.

“Fuck her like that for a bit, then see if she can handle another finger,” Wonwoo instructs next. “While you’re doing that… how do you feel about stroking me off, gorgeous?”

You swallow thickly, nodding. Then you reach down for Wonwoo’s pants, helping him shift them down to his thighs. His cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard as a rock and glistening with precum. He’s big, on the longer side more than thick, but you don’t mind. You grasp him, rubbing your thumb through the precum to spread it across his skin.

“Do you need direction too?” Wonwoo grins at you.

“Don’t even try it,” you warn him.

“I was just teasing, you don’t seem to mind Mingyu’s teasing.”

“That’s cuz he’s-” Your words are choked off as Mingyu thrusts his finger in your pussy. “He’s doing a different kind of teasing.”

“Can I add another?” Mingyu groans in your ear, seemingly oblivious to the bickering between you and Wonwoo. 

“Yeah,” you nod, stroking Wonwoo faster while you wiggle your hips as an open invitation to Mingyu. 

Two fingers drag through your pussy lips, and when Mingyu pushes them into you, you swear you see stars. You throw your head back, eyes closing in ecstasy-

“If you crook your fingers, there should be a soft, spongy spot. That’s called the G-spot, girls like it when you apply pressure there,” Wonwoo tells Mingyu.

You feel Mingyu’s fingers beginning to explore inside of you, and you let out a whimper when he finds the spot Wonwoo is talking about.

“Looks like you found it, Gyu,” Wonwoo grins. “See? What did I tell you? A quick learner.”

Mingyu applies more pressure to your G-spot as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Soon, you can hear how wet you are, and Wonwoo’s eyes darken.

“I think you’re just about ready for him, don’t you?” he asks.

“Yeah- fuck it, yeah,” you nod quickly. “Let's all get naked.”

Mingyu’s hand is out of your pants before you can even finish your sentence. He licks his fingers off, groaning at your taste, before he rips off his pants and shirt.

Your clothes are quick to follow, discarded onto the floor. “I’m gonna ride him,” you announce.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Wonwoo nods. 

You swing a leg over Mingyu’s hips, your hands flat on his chest- when you look down at Mingyu, you’re overwhelmed with a feeling you quite can’t explain. Bending down, you press your lips to Mingyu’s, capturing his cock between his body and your pussy. You grind against him while you make out, a flurry of tongues and whimpers of pleasure. 

“He might not last long, so I’d be careful if I were you,” Wonwoo warns, and you feel his body behind yours, his hands trailing up your sides.

You pull away from Mingyu, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your pussy. He’s so big- and his tip stretches you out as you slowly seat yourself down onto him, your wet hole taking inch after inch until you’re full to the hilt. 

“Fuck-” Mingyu whimpers, his hands settling on your hips.

“Feels like heaven, huh?” Wonwoo asks.

“Even better than heaven,” Mingyu breathes.

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and you arch your head back, enjoying the way his hands capture your breasts, massaging you. His thumb and pointer squeeze your nipple and you gasp, your pussy clamping down on Mingyu, who groans loudly.

“You should start riding him,” Wonwoo says, his mouth hot on your neck. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Wonwoo’s hands find your hips, and he lifts you off of his fried before pushing you back down. You let out a whimper of pleasure, closing your eyes and resting your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

With his super strength, he can easily lift you up and put you back down on Mingyu’s cock, effectively taking away all the leg strain so you can enjoy every moment of Mingyu filling you up.

“I might be bad, but I can be nice,” Wonwoo coos. “Look at me doing all the work.”

Mingyu lets out a grunt, and he begins to thrust up to meet you, driving his cock even deeper into your pussy.

“Fuck-” you gasp, reaching behind you to thread your fingers in Wonwoo’s hair.

“He feels good, doesn’t he?” Wonwoo asks. “Hey Gyu, rub her clit. Wonder if we can get her to cum for us.”

Mingyu’s thumb finds your sensitive bud and you squeal with delight, pussy throbbing around the massive cock impaling you. 

Each circle of his digit on your clit drags you closer and closer to the edge, your sounds filling the room-

“She’s gonna cum,” Wonwoo announces. “Tell her how badly you want to watch her cum.”

“Wanna watch you cum,” Mingyu moans.

“That’s not very original,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock. We both wanna see you cum. You’ll cum for us, right?” Mingyu looks so desperate. Lips puffy and parted, skin a soft pink, dark hair curled with sweat by his strong brow-

“Okay, okay- fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m close-”

“When a girl tells you she’s close, don’t change anything,” Wonwoo tells the man below you. “Don’t add pressure or take pressure away from her clit. Don’t change your pace- the only thing I’d say you can change, is you can fuck her harder, but since you’re the bottom right now...”

Wonwoo’s grip on you tightens, and he bounces you even harder onto Mingyu’s cock, which makes you nearly cry from how good it feels. “Oh my god, oh my god-”

“How about you cum for us?” Wonwoo suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get Mingyu there too.” 

“Are you gonna cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, looking down at Mingyu from under heavy lids. “Please- I want you to cum with me?”

Mingyu lets out a grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration. You’d bet he’s holding off his high now, waiting for you, waiting for the moment you say it’s okay-

The cord in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, and when Wonwoo leans over you to whisper the word, “Cum,” in your ear, you can’t even help yourself.

Your pussy tightens like a vice on Mingyu’s cock, all the tension snapping as waves of pleasure throb from your core outward to the rest of your body.  The moan you let out is obscene, and the one Mingyu echoes is even worse, in the most sinful, sexy way.

“Fuck-” Mingyu grabs your hips, forcing you down on him completely, unable to move while the contractions of your orgasm milk his cock for all he’s worth.

“Look at you two cum whores,” Wonwoo breathes, and for some reason, the degradation doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “Bet you both needed that, didn’t you?”

You can only whimper a sound of affirmation. 

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your back, helping your body calm down from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” he says softly.

“Now,” you respond without hesitation. “Fuck me now.”

“You’re that eager?”

“Eager- plus the moment we’re done, I think I might pass out,” you admit. 

Wonwoo only laughs. “I’m going to help you off of him, then it’s face down, ass up. You good with that?”

“So good with that,” you grin. 

It’s easy enough for Wonwoo to help you off of Mingyu. He sets you next to your gentle giant, who’s still trying to catch his breath. 

You immediately push your butt toward Wonwoo, arching your back and looking at him over your shoulder.

“Wow, you really are ready,” he muses, hands gliding over your ass. “Don’t fall asleep on me or it might bruise my ego.”

“Sleep after you cum, so don’t worry if it’s quick.”

“What if I want to take my time?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his cock up and down your slit.

“Then I’d say you have so many other opportunities in the future to take your time, but right now, I just want to be full, and then I can pass out between you and Gyu.”

“You know what? That doesn’t actually sound that bad.” Wonwoo presses his cock into your wet hole, Mingyu’s cum acting as a kind of lube that makes it all too easy for Wonwoo’s length to glide against your walls.

“Fuck-” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. 

Wonwoo isn’t as thick as Mingyu, but somehow he reaches deeper. Two hands spread your ass cheeks so each rough thrust has Wonwoo’s cock going as deep as possible, his tip kissing your cervix and making your toes curl.

“Taking it so good,” Wonwoo muses, digging his fingers into your flesh.

“So pretty,” Mingyu whispers, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

He leans in, and you find yourself kissing Mingyu while Wonwoo rails you from behind. You can hardly help your moans as Mingyu’s tongue glides over yours.

“It’s kind of hot watching you two make out,” Wonwoo admits, his thrusts slowing so he can appreciate the view in front of him.

“Yeah?” You kiss Mingyu even harder and he shuffles closer, groping your breast.

“Rub her clit for me Gyu,” Wonwoo instructs. “If she wants this fast, we’ll have to get her to cum first.”

Your body tingles- you should have known Wonwoo would want one of your orgasms for himself if you gave one to Gyu. You have no problems with them providing you pleasure and you providing them with a view of your high in return.

You simply relax while they work you up together, acting in unison. 

Mingyu’s fingers are rubbing your clit in rough circles, and the feeling of Wonwoo filling you up has you going crazy. You’re doing your best to hold onto the moment, but you can feel yourself getting close to the edge again.

“You’re getting tight, gorgeous,” Wonwoo muses. “Gonna cum for us?”

“Yeah- almost there,” you whimper, arching your back even more so when Wonwoo drives forward, he hits a specific spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck-”

“You feel so good, want to feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel your perfect pussy get all tight and creamy with my cum-” Wonwoo grabs your ass tighter, and the slight pain paired with his dirty words is enough to throw you over the edge.

Your entire body tenses as the cord of pleasure snaps, erupting through you like a volcano of white, hot intensity. “Fuck-” you whine, and Wonwoo echoes the sound as your pussy grips him harder than ever before.

“Shit, I’m cumming,” Wonwoo warns you, his thrusts faltering as he shoots his load deep inside your throbbing core. 

He lets out sinful groans, and you love the way he sounds as he rides you through your orgasm, roughly ramming into your gspot with shallow thrusts that feel like heaven.

Wonwoo finally comes to a stop, and you can feel him breathing heavily against your bare shoulders. 

“Clean up time, then bed,” Mingyu reminds you before you can close your eyes and fall asleep then and there.

“Right-” you whisper lazily, resting your cheek against the comforter.

“Here, I’ll help you, but only if I get to be your big spoon,” Mingyu suggests.

You nod. Wonwoo pulls out of you, and Mingyu is quick to bring a warm cloth to your aching core, wiping up the cum and getting you situated. He helps you lay down, disposing of the towel before joining you at your rear. His lips are soft against your shoulder, his hand gliding the expanse of your arm.

“We love you,” he tells you. “Even if Wonwoo won’t say it cuz he’s a jerk.”

Wonwoo only laughs, laying on his back in front of you and Mingyu. You’re too exhausted to say much other than, “I love you guys too,” and with that, you fall asleep next to your two lifelong protectors.

You don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is clear; as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are protecting you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this might be low key my hero academia inspired- I've been going through the anime's like an addict lol

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cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dildo use, pussy eating, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, Mingyu monster cock agenda, spitting, spanking, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, cream pie, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, double penetration, cumming on y/n’s face, masturbation, etc…   I petnames. Baby & gorgeous. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 145

🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

 bonus

“So,” your therapist grins as she looks amongst you and your protectors, “I’m guessing things are going well?”

You can only smile, squeezing Wonwoo and Mingyu’s hands.

“It’s never been this easy,” Mingyu says wistfully, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss.

“How are you two getting along?” your therapist addresses Wonwoo and Mingyu.

“Shockingly,” Wonwoo sighs, turning to grin at Mingyu, “I feel like we’re pretty good. Once Mingyu started listening to me, for once, things got easier.”

You nearly choke at Wonwoo’s words- reminiscing about how well Mingyu listens to Wonwoo’s instructions in bed.

“This is a good step,” your therapist smiles. “I’m proud of all three of you.”

No one’s ever told you they were proud of you for getting railed like a whore in heat by not one, but two, men- but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

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[jupiter-letters]

Dating Number 4/ Klaus Hargreeves would include☂️👻:

Fem! or GN! Reader TW: Brief mentions of addiction

A/N: I started Umbrella Academy a week ago and I’m obsessed, I’m almost done with season 3 and I can’t wait for season 4. I’d managed to fall in love with Robert Sheehan all over again and all that love has to go somewhere so here it is.

Waking up to little peppered kisses on your back and up your torso. If you don’t open your eyes he’ll just start blowing raspberries into your neck and on your face. Once he hears you laughing he’ll stop and flip you over. He likes being the first thing you see when you wake up. Some days are a little more peaceful and less silly, you wake to see him still asleep. A mess of curls and smudged glitter eyeshadow is the first thing you see. He’s at such peace and the most still you’ll ever see him. 

Putting makeup on each other, whether it’s going out or just playing around with new looks it doesn’t matter. Being able to experiment with new colors and combinations with each other is so much fun. On date nights you’ll pick outfits for each other, sometimes even just wearing each other’s clothes. Doing things like this with him leads to doing most things together. 

Why have him do things when you can do it for him? Or even with him? He loves having you wash his hair. Showers, baths? Of course we have to both be in there at the same time! Klaus is so touch starved any reason to spend time together he’ll take it,an added bonus is your company keeps the spirits away. 

You’re always in close proximity to each other, so your skin is always touching. Klaus just can’t get enough, physical touch becomes his middle name. He’s a natural affectionate person but just having you near is very grounding for him. 

He’ll draw on you with little glitter pens he carries in his pocket, he likes to call you his “canvas and his muse.” Even without the pens he’ll trace random shapes and words onto your arm or your back when you both lie in bed. Klaus also likes to play with your fingers when he’s bored.

Kissing!! He’s such a fiend for kissing my god, after that first kiss he’s finished. He always says he wants just one but it ends up escalating to a full on make out sesh. Doesn’t matter if you’re public or not you look too good it’d be a crime not to kiss you. Klaus doesn’t really give a damn about public embarrassment, if you wanted him to he’d run through central park naked, he would.

 Once he knows you’re ok with all the random bursts of affection he really piles it on. Neck kisses, shoulder kisses, nose kisses, not one day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you. He kisses like he wants to devour you, if he wasn’t able to kiss you that’d be hell on Earth. If you’re a fan of random kisses at the most inappropriate times he’s a professional. You’re driving, he’s gonna make out with you. Out shopping, kissing! Right now! Doctor’s appointment? Kisses under your jaw in the waiting room, he can’t help it, he's bored.

Helping him get clean, you and Ben have been pretty good influences in his life. Trying to keep him on the straight and narrow for the sake of his health. He wants to be present for you, he wants to be able to remember the things you do together. You help him find fun things to do without getting drugs involved. Taking your time and being patient with him means the world to him. He loves his siblings but they aren’t the best at helping him with it. They do try a little harder when you come around seeing how serious you are about helping him. You stay awake with him when his nightmares get too bad or when the withdrawal is really wearing him down. If it’s the ghosts that are bothering him you just tell them to piss off.(he really appreciates that)

Klaus begins to teach himself new skills to help you out around the house, cooking, cleaning you name it. He doesn’t do it very well but you appreciate the effort anyway. Chores become another activity for you both to do. He’ll even indulge in some of your hobbies just for the fun of it. 

Tattoos! He gets something on his wrist that reminds him of you, he can’t wait to show you too. If you get one related to him, god forbid a little number 4 on you he’ll cry. He does eventually tell you about the rest of his journey in Vietnam and Dave. Klaus wants to be sure you know he won’t compare you to him, He’ll always love Dave but he doesn’t love you any less. He’ll get really shy if you kiss his hand tattoos, there aren’t a lot of ways to fluster him so that’s a good one. 

Being surrounded by death and destruction most of his life really makes him appreciate what you have. The way you indulge in his antics and impulses makes Klaus feel so seen. You don’t feel real to him sometimes; late at night he’ll just lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating. 

When some crazy new developments or drama happens in his family you’re first to know. Luther tells him something very personal and secret and 15 mins later he’s calling you on the mansion’s phone. 

Luther: “This stays between us Klaus I mean it…” Klaus: “Of course Lulu I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone you’re dirty little secret” A few moments later… Klaus: “Babe you’ll never believe what Luther just told me!”

He’ll always be looking at you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing you have his full attention. Klaus will just be gazing at you lovingly while five is trying to talk to him, eventually he’ll just ignore him and go to talk to you. You're his favorite person to talk to; he never gets bored with you.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

[scudslut]

Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔰

requested ( @cartoonykat ) : alastor, angel dust, husk, lucifer, charlie & vaggie, vox, adam, sir pentious x gn! reader (separately), they’re having a moment (or romantic date) but it’s interrupted/ruined by someone or something

type: scenarios

content: domestic, fluff, slight crack, bunch of smitten sinners, swears, angle dust bad ass reader s/o, val mentioned thrice cause he’s annoying ash (but he will be added to the blog soon), vox’s kind of a whiny baby but it’s hot (?¿), brief luci vs alastor bit

note: this took a while. ngl because, honestly, alastor and luci had me stumped — also some may be longer than others, what can I say? give inspiration where it’s due

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯

It's rare to see Al anywhere but the heir Morningstar Hotel, whispering over her shoulder like the villain you know him to be. Yet, even he needs a break from the chaos. Strangely enough, for someone who loathes any form of physical touch, he always shows up on your doorstep like clockwork by the end of the week.

Your mornings are routinely filled with melodic tones that stir you awake. The air is thick with the scent of powdered sugar beignets, which only he can make, and the aroma of the finest coffee beans you worked hard to procure because you knew how much he enjoyed them.

He's busy working on something when you creep up behind him, hearing him hum along to his favorite jazz song. Always the jolly fellow with the wickedest mind, he seems at peace for once, even when you audaciously wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

In the past, he would have tensed up and demanded an explanation through clenched teeth. Instead, he now leans into your touch as you lay your head on his back. “Mornin’ Al.” you’d greet muffled, breathing in his scent.

He hums softly, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning towards you, his grin devilishly relaxed. "Well, well, good morning, mon cher. Hope I didn't stir you with all my shufflin'."

You open your mouth to assure him that wasn't the case when, within the next second, there's a loud boom from your far wall and debris flying around your kitchen. When the dust clears, you both stare blankly at a large hole in your wall. You're lost to what's happening when a figure steps through, glaring at Alastor with intense hatred.

"What—Who?" you ask, looking from him to Al, whose smile is tense. "Is this one of your enemies?" you deduce, realizing he must be, since he wasn't here for you.

Alastor blinks before turning towards you, smiling proudly. "Who could tell?,” he jokes, “It's a difficult task to keep track when you're the most hated demon in hell."

“You gonna handle that?” you ask, staring up at him, a frown on your face.

You didn't have to ask twice; he was already pulling away from you, though he didn't appear as cheerful as one might expect when heading off to handle his business.

“And fix my wall when you’re done, Alastor.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 𝕯𝔲𝔰𝔱

It was clear that Angel hadn’t been himself lately. Whether it was the strain from Valentino’s demands or dealing with Charlie and her redemption shenanigans, the reasons were irrelevant. It did bother you and concerned you that he wasn’t confiding in you about whatever was troubling him, though.

But you weren’t going to press him, adding to his burdens. Instead, you decided to show your support: tidying up your place, setting the table, adjusting the lighting, and spending the entire day preparing his favorite Italian dishes. They weren't quite as perfect as his mama's, but you knew no one could match her cooking.

As evening arrived, you finally invited him over, knowing he wouldn’t be free until this hour, dealing with Val’s big head. Greeting him at the door with a kiss, you noticed his tired gaze soften as he returned the gesture. Leading him inside, he gradually perked up, taking in the atmosphere you had carefully set.

By the time he sits at the table, he's lively, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he pours both of you a glass of Roscato wine. “Wow, baby, all this for me?” he asks with a bashful charm, his eyes slightly hooded as he swirls the wine in his glass, chin resting on the back of his hand.

“No,” you begin joking, “this is for the guy after you—don’t eat it all, alright? Leave some for him.”

Angel chuckles, setting down his glass to pick up his fork. He scoops up some fettuccine, then leans forward and offers it towards your mouth. "I think ya runnin’ that pretty mouth a lil too much, sweet cheeks. We both know there ain’t no competition."

Before you can bite back something naughty, his hellphone chimes repeatedly in his pocket. A weighty silence falls over both of you as he reluctantly sets down his fork and retrieves it, his brow furrowing deeply at the messages displayed on his screen. He looks to you from his phone before sighing and rising from his seat.

You raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait. Hold on! Where do you think you're off to?" you demand, scrutinizing him suspiciously.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he gestures with his hands while explaining, "I'm sorry, sugar. It's Val. He needs me. I gotta go—"

"Sit your ass down," you bark, your mood souring. Angel does a double-take, and you continue, "I planned this day perfectly—slaved away to cook these loving dishes for you—and that man-child was not part of the picture. If he wants my man, he better come and pry me away from you."

Angel quickly considers his options. Ignoring Val usually ends in trouble, but ignoring you feels worse than anything Val could inflict—especially since you're somehow scarier and hotter than him. Plus, he knows you can handle yourself, a skill you demonstrated long before you two got together. He makes his choice and sits back down. To hell with Val; dealing with him can wait.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕳𝔲𝔰𝔨

By the end of the day, exhausted from working tirelessly, all you wanted was to faceplant into your bed. But Husk was coaxing you to spend the night with him, mentioning relaxation and the allure of Hennessy. Honestly, if he had just said he wanted to see you, you’d be right over. No coaxing needed, but who’s gonna tell him?

As you stand outside his room door, it dawns on you that Husk may not even know what it means to relax. Sure, he's somewhat chill after a few drinks, but you've never seen him truly unwind since you've known him. You wonder what you’re in for when you knock on his door, waiting for him to answer.

A gravelly voice answers through the door, "Come in," then falls silent. You purse your lips in confusion and twist open the door, cautiously stepping inside. The room is dimly lit by candles, making it a bit challenging to see at first, but as your eyes adjust, you find him seated on a loveseat, staring at you intently.

"Yeah, not creepy at all," you mumble halfheartedly, dropping your bag on his bed before walking over to him. Your comment earns a tsk from him and a grumble under his breath, but nothing more. Yeah, this was definitely weird. “Who are you and what did you do with gumpelherekitty kitty?”

"Shut the hell up and come here before there's no liquor left," he bites, taking the bait with a small smile on his face as he watches you flop down beside him. An array of pillows behind you looks like clouds waiting to be drooled on, but instead of relaxing just yet, you lean in for a kiss.

A glass of Hennessy is placed in your hands as you pull away, the dark liquid resembling brown sugar but far from sweet. You judge the small amount and down it in one gulp, tilting your head back and letting out a hiss at the burn. It was well worth it, though.

Husk must have agreed because he took the glass from your hand to pour another. "Rough day, huh?" Instead of passing it back to you, he drinks it himself and then gently guides you back onto the pillows, placing your legs across his lap.

You groan, "You have no idea!" before pausing, recalling his own stressful situation. You send him a sympathetic smile, "Then again, you might." You watch as he shrugs, carefully removing your shoes one by one and placing them aside.

"Tell me about it," he says, grabbing one of your feet and starting to massage it, aiming to ease the soreness. "Your day, I mean. Or not." Despite his half-hearted objection, he looks at you expectantly, knowing you'll likely indulge him anyway. And you do—you recount how everything that could go wrong today did, venting about nasty customers and expressing relief to end the day with him.

That confession didn’t escape him; instead, he purrs softly at your words, his eyes grows hooded as his hand moves from your feet to your calf, rubbing gently. He starts to reply when his door bursts open, capturing both of your attention.

He stands up, your legs sliding off his lap as he reaches for his cards, but pauses at the sound of Nifty's sinister giggling and the frantic scraping on the floor. You both watch as she chases a large roach in circles for a few seconds too long before finally following it out the door.

"You people are strange," you comment after a long pause.

Husk sighs heavily through his nose, flopping back into his earlier spot and pouring himself and you a drink. "Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕷𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯

You've been in the hotel long before he showed up. You were already making progress on your redemption arc to heaven. That was always the goal, but you never anticipated to fall for him. This complicated your plans, and he knew it. You wonder if that’s where his doting and overbearing behavior stems from; abandonment and guilt—the risk of both losing you and stopping you from enlightenment.

He often sweeps you off your feet and plans spontaneous outings, desperate to keep you close for as long as possible. It was romantic and considerate of him, just so him, but he didn't have anything to worry about. You wish you could tell him, when you realized it, that even in heaven, you'd fall just to be with him. But the relationship was still fresh so you opt in matching his energy.

The dopey smile he gave you after you guided him to the candlelit table adorned with handmade meals was worth it. You could visibly see his shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted. Ever the gentleman, he helps you sit before himself. The evening is filled with sweet nothings, laughter, and smitten glances.

Lucifer reaches across the table, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you," he expresses his gratitude as dinner comes to an end. But you had more planned for this night.

"I should be the one thanking you," you confess, causing him to raise a curious brow. You playfully reach over and nudge it back into place, eliciting a pout but no protest. Instead he chooses to lean more into your touch. "I haven't had this much fun since arriving in hell in years."

His devilish grin returns, his posture straightening as he half-heartedly feigns humility, failing halfway because how could he not when you're hyping him up? "Well, y’know, I try. How about we take a trip to Lulu world tomorrow? It's a blast—fully comp, of course, you’re dating the boss," he winks mischievously.

“Don’t you mean “loo loo land”?”

Lucifer shakes his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No—no no no, heavens no. That dreadful place shouldn’t exist in any of the 7 rings,” he sneers with disdain.

You nod, though not fully understanding, and rise from your seat. Lucifer, following your lead like a lost puppy, closes the distance between you. With a smile, you guide him by the sleeve to the center of the ballroom, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The night's far from over. Care to dance with me?" On cue, soft music gently fills the background.

He certainly does. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently. His expression softens to one of peace. You playfully plant a kiss on his nose before resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in contentment. They open not even a minute later when the music abruptly stops, gaining both your attention.

You know where the music box is, assuming it malfunctioned but you're surprised to see Alastor standing there, observing you both. Once your attentions on him, he casually addresses everyone in the room, "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Am I interrupting something?" his smile widens at the growl that rumbles from Lucifer chest.

"You’re still here?" Lucifer grumbles, holding you closer, clearly annoyed by the interruption, especially because of who it was.

This earns a deep chuckle from Alastor, “Well, of course. Charlie’s had her fill of parental figures abandoning her, wouldn’t you say, sir?”

“What did he say?!” Lucifer turns towards you for confirmation.

"Anywho, I came to inform you both that a hotel meeting has been called. You know where," Alastor adds, then starts up the music again before disappearing into the shadows.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 & 𝕮𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔢

Redemption this, redemption that. That's all Charlie ever talks about, with Vaggie always backing her up. Sure, you support her too, but it gets annoying when it consumes all their time, leaving very little for the three of you to nurture your relationship. It was seriously irritating the heck out of you. Having two girlfriends but neither showing you affection like the good old days.

They probably caught on to the problem after enduring your snappy, sarcastic comments and watching you bail on redemption exercises for the nth time this week. With enough silent glances exchanged between them, they realized they had to do something. The following week, they lead you to a romantic picnic in the hotel's garden. You didn't even know the garden existed.

It was surprisingly sweet, especially for a setting in Hell—maybe even slightly cheesy. A white lace blanket was spread across the ground, with a silver tray of desserts of all kinds adorned with rainbow flag toothpicks. Beside it was a black heart-shaped picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

There was champagne with smiley faces on the bottle and plates with quirky little sandwiches that you were sure Charlie had tried to make. A gothic black umbrella stuck out from the ground, purpose of shielding you all from the hot sun.

Before you could say anything—not that there was much to say, as you were frankly speechless—Charlie and Vaggie pulled you to sit with them. Vaggie wore a soft smile, while Charlie beamed with eagerness.

"We’ve noticed you’ve been a little snippy lately,” Charlie starts, her expression shifting to one of guilt and sympathy. She tightens her hold on you, pulling you closer to her side. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. I’ve been so focused on the guest that I’ve neglected both you and Vaggie.”

“I carry some of the blame too,” Vaggie chimes in. “I was so caught up in making sure the hotel ran smoothly and keeping everyone safe that I forgot about the people who matter most to me.”

Charlie’s hands travel down your arms to hold yours in hers. “Can you forgive us? We really didn’t mean it.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Vaggie adds, placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. “We love you so much.”

You bite your lip, glancing between their faces as guilt starts to eat at you because of their words and romantic gestures. “Fuck…” you groan, pouting and closing your eyes. “I’m such an asshole.”

Charlie shakes her head. “No, you’re sweet for wanting time with us,” she says, batting her lashes. “We want time with you too.” She leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Vaggie leans in for a kiss, but just then, someone stumbles into the garden, interrupting the moment.

“Charlie!” Lucifer exclaims, zeroing in on her before finally noticing the surroundings, including Vaggie and you. “Oh—uh, haha,” he chuckles nervously, “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” He slowly starts to back away. “I’ll just find you later, sweetie! Enjoy your date.”

Just as quickly as he stumbled in, he’s gone. Charlie gives you both an apologetic smile before you all resume your date.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔬𝔵

Opportunity didn’t always come knocking, but you must have one hell of a lucky streak to go from being Vox’s assistant by day to his lover by night. As his assistant, you saw how swimmingly put together Vox always was—after all, the cameras were always rolling if you were one of the Vees.

There was never a moment he wasn’t on top of things, keeping everything in check and everyone in line. Of course, the best times were when Alastor wasn’t involved. But now Alastor is back, and he’s even more of a pain in his side than Vox remembered. Just when Vox was on top of the world, now he’s glitching out at the very thought of that vermin.

Surprisingly, he kept it together in front of almost everyone. But when the clock strikes midnight, he clocks out and heads to his fancy penthouse where you're currently curled up on the couch, waiting for him. His expression instantly shifts to a tired smile as he walks over to you, and you open your arms for him.

He flops all his weight onto you, burying his face in your chest with a low groan. You purse your lips, wrapping your arms around his upper back and kissing his head. Cooing, almost babying him, you ask, “Had a rough day, sugar?” You wouldn’t know since your shift ended hours before his. He grumbles inaudible into your chest.

Tsking, you shake your head. “I can’t understand you when you do that.”

After a moment, he reluctantly pulls away just enough to glance up at you. “That smiling freak… fuuuck…” he mutters before snuggling back into your chest.

There was only one freak who smiled like he had carved it into his cheeks. Why are you not surprised? Sighing, you ask the million-dollar question, “What did he do now?”forcing him to look up at you fully. Perhaps the better question is what doesn’t he do? He can so much as breathe in Vox’s direction and it pisses him off.

“That shitty fuck is tanking my ratings,” Vox begins ranting. “Yesterday, they were down 2 percent. Today, they’re down 7 percent. 7 PERCENT!”

Tilting your head, you frown. “How do you know it’s him? Alastor doesn’t like electronics.”

Vox narrows his eyes down at you as he rises from on top of you, sparks flying from his hands. “Are you seriously defending that asshole right now?!” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.

“Of course not! What the hell, Vox? I was just stating the obvious.” Here he was, getting insecure again. Seriously, why even mention Alastor around him?

"Fuck your obvi-" Vox is cut off by the ringing of his phone. Velvet's name and photo pop up on his screen. Blinking, you wait to see if he's going to answer, but he declines the call. "—ous bullshit. You’re riding his dick more than mine."

Hunky hunky hunky.

She calls again, and this time Vox answers, zapping the call to the main screen in the living room. “What is it, Velvette? I’m in the middle of—” his screen glitches, his voice turning to static, “—something.”

"What the fuck do you think? He’s at it again, throwing a fucking tantrum over that spider whore," Velvette barks through the screen, her accent heavy with annoyance. "Handle it. I’m busy," she adds, then hangs up.

After the call, silence fills the room before he turns to you, his charming grin returning. “This conversation isn’t over,” he says, his words carrying a double meaning. Still, he leans over to give you a kiss on the lips before he leaves.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔡𝔞𝔪

Lately, he's been acting strange. You weren’t sure what it was, but each time he comes down to visit you from heaven, he becomes more and more affectionate. At first, you thought he was teasing you, giving you just enough to keep you yearning and then pull back; let you sweat in want—but that never happened. It didn't click in your head until today, after he grudgingly confessed because—

“What the fuck??” you blink owlishly at your bathroom door. But the door isn’t the issue; it’s the noise coming from outside it. Lowering your thriller book, you place it on the toilet seat before rising from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around yourself, and exiting the bathroom.

You're glad to know you weren’t losing your mind, and were in fact hearing correctly. There was indeed a noise, more defined now—an instrumental tune growing louder towards your bedroom. Except, it wasn’t coming from inside your bedroom come to find out but outside your window.

Opening it, you peek over the sill, and your mouth drops. Standing there, looking up at you with an acoustic guitar in his hand, is Adam, with a bouquet of red roses lying at his feet.

“Adam…?” you stutter out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

His fingers pause on the guitar strings, and he grins. "Fucking finally, babe, I've been standing out here for 10 minutes," he says as he slides the guitar onto his back. He then bends down to pick up the roses and waves them at you. "I brought you flowers."

"…for what?" you bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. Adam doesn’t do kind gestures—none that you know of—and he certainly doesn’t play acoustic guitars. He claims they're for pussy-whipped douchebags.

He scoffs, lowering it to his side with a shrug, “There has to be a reason?”

You chuckle, raising a brow. "That's how it works, dummy… why did you stay out there for 10 minutes? Just use the front door." Shaking your head, you duck back inside the window to close it and start getting dressed. You're halfway through putting on your pants when Adam barges into your room, tossing the guitar onto the bed.

He walks over to you, checking you out with a sultry smirk. "Are you struggling to fit into your pants?" he asks, before shaking his head as if to focus, adding and shoving the flowers at you, "I heard mortal bitches love this shit."

You finish buttoning your pants while juggling the roses, then sigh loudly and close the distance, pecking him on the lips. "What? Flowers being shoved at them and terrible music. Stick to electric guitars, Adam. It’ll get you laid more." you say sarcastically, pulling away and chuckling. “Acoustics are for pussy-whipped douchebags, remember?”

“Well, yeah, obviously!” Adam follows after you, scratching his head. “I’m talking about me serenading you and giving you flowers… It’s a romantic gesture or whatever… right?” He sounds unsure himself.

You whirl around to face him, pursing your lips as you try to figure out how to word what you’re going to say next without sounding too harsh. "Okay… what the actual fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks, and this is starting to really weird me out."

Adam draws back, his lips forming a tight line before he utters, "Uhhh…" and averts his eyes. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about." Then, within seconds, he's back to his upbeat self, pulling you towards him by your hips. "You’re fucking hot. Who wouldn’t wanna get in your pants?"

You shake your head, removing his hands and crossing your arms as you stare pointedly at him. It's a silent staring contest for three minutes before he caves in with an annoyed groan. His shoulders tense up as he grumbles, "Fine, fuck. You can be so annoying when you want to be…"

When he doesn't get a reaction from you, he spills the beans, pacing around the room. "Some losers up in Heaven said I wasn't romantic. Me. I'm like, No fucking way, I'm the first dick. Nobody knows how to make bitches fall harder on it!" He scoffs, slouching in place. "Those little fuckers laughed in my face."

You sigh, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "So you came here to prove a point?" He nods, and you continue, "For the first man, you can be pretty stupid. I’m in Hell, who’s going to know? And secondly, I don’t need all this—it’s cute, but you can be sweet in your own Adam way, not this poser crap."

"Well, shit, fuck. Wish I knew that before wasting my break on this instead of fucking the breath outta you," he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it next time."

“Well you better hurry up. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you come back to me.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕾𝔦𝔯 𝕻𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰

When you were alive, your dating life was less than healthy and filled with constant disappointment. Your friends called it toxic, but you’d always reply that you only live once. So what if your typical lover was the stereotypical bad boy? Red flags never looked better on anyone. Besides, red was your favorite color.

Ending up in Hell with the life you led was no surprise. You thought you’d keep up the same lifestyle—getting plastered and starting fights with assholes—but somehow you wound up in a crappy hotel after the princess of Hell saw "potential" in you. But what left you even more baffled than potentially spending the rest of your stay in hell there was falling for a simp of a man.

A true gentleman from a different era than yours has you questioning where someone like him was hiding out in your past life. And if you had come across someone like him back then, would you have even given him the time of day if you weren’t being cooped up in a raggedy hotel? Highly unlikely but you’re glad you found him now, while on the road of redemption together.

You may have become sappy enough to tell him that whenever you both had alone time to breathe each other in, much like now. Watching as a heavy blush dusts across his face, his eyes glossing over with devotion, his tail swishing behind him, and his hands fidgeting. Man, he gets more adorable day by day.

“I—” he pauses to gather himself before continuing, “Well, I feel the sssame way, dear!" Sir Pentious always exclaims, suddenly grabbing your hands in his and adding, "In fact, I have sssomething for you. To sshow how much I value our time together…" His voice trails off bashfully.

Biting your lip with a grin, you coo at him, “You made something for me, baby? What is it?” You start making guesses, “Is it a little gadget that protects me? That’s sweet, but I don’t need that. I’m plenty strong on my own.”

“Oh, I know what you’re capable of, my beloved!” he bellows proudly. “Thisss is different. SSsomthing personal, for me and for you… I hope you’ll like it.” He turns away, digging into a bag you only just noticed. When he turns back around, in his hand is something you didn’t expect but also makes sense: an egg.

You eye it curiously, “Pen. Are you gifting me an egg?”

“Yesss... but not just any egg. Our egg,” he says, his hood flattening and eyes growing doe-eyed.

“Wait, what?” you tilt your head, now confused. Last time you checked, you didn't go egg hunting with him and—your eyes bulge out when realization sets in. “Heavens sake, Pen, did you-did you lay an egg?” You thought sinners couldn’t have children…

He shakes his head erratically. “Sssatan’s no. I created this one for us to—" He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. “To raise together,” he finishes, opening his eyes enough to peek at your reaction. He opens them fully after seeing you smiling.

“That’s the sweetest fucking gift anyone has ever gave me.” you open your arms for him, “Come here, baby.”

Delighted at your reaction, and never one to turn down physical invitations from you, he slithers over towards you. But in the moment of excitement, as he opens his arms to reciprocate, the egg slips through his hands and splats to the floor.

“Oh my God, Pen!” you shout horrified as he drops to the floor, mouth open in utter disbelief.

[gallaghersgal]

Lip Gallagher would fuck his girl so good after coming home from college and then be all domesticy

i fucking agree !! heres a little blurb for you <33 nsfw 18+. rough lip, unprotected p in v, praise, aftercare, domesticity

it's been so long since you've seen lip. five weeks, three days, and eleven hours. but who's counting anyway? it doesn't matter how long its been, or how much you missed him, how much you thought of him when he was away at school. he was here now. that was what mattered.

his hands and lips have been all over you since the moment he stepped off the L. you're alone in his room now, bent over his desk and crying from it. tears leak down your cheeks as he grips your now-messy ponytail in one hand.

"good fucking girl," he growls in your ear, thrusting sharper so that your hips are banging repeatedly against the desk. you whimper and press your ass back into him, you try to speak but all that comes out is a garbled moan of his name. he smiles at this, sharp and wicked as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass. "o-oh shit- missed this, jesus."

you manage to pant out, "fuck! missed it so much," before you're clenching around him and arching your back in a white-hot wave of pleasure.

lip coos in your ear, "so fuckin' tight f'me. tha's my girl." his hips speed up and his thrusts become erratic, his teeth biting down softly on your ear as he comes inside you.

you let out an exhausted whine and crumple into the desk, feeling his chest press against your back. he pulls out with a soft hiss, fingers trailing patterns over the expanse of your back as his lips map a trail of kisses across your nape. he really had missed you.

"lemme get ya some clean clothes," he murmurs, standing and cleaning himself up with a spare tee before searching his drawers for something of yours. he finds a loose tank top of his and a comfy little pair of shorts for you, cleaning you up with gentle hands and helping you to stand as he dressed you.

you smile warmly and lean yourself against lip's chest. his heartbeat is soft and quick under your ear, a stark contrast to how soft and sated you feel. his lips kiss your hairline with gentle fervor, smattering small pecks to whatever he can reach. "missed you," you murmur, to which he laughs softly.

"missed ya too, sweetheart." he replies, pulling away and finding a cozy sweater to wrap you in. "ian an' mickey are downstairs, an' i'm fuckin' hungry. c'mon," he tells you with a grin. he locks his fingers in yours and pulls you down the stairs, a sweet giggle floating effortlessly from your lips. he's here. he's home.

mickey wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, and lip swats his head, grabbing two beers from the fridge and tossing one in mickey's direction. lip hands the other beer to you and grabs the pack of cigs on the counter. he lights it from the stove burner as you crack your beer and grab a pan, all between pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"quesadilla?' you ask, holding up tortillas, cheese, and a bag of peppers. you watch lip's face break into a wide grin, reaching out and grabbing your waist to pull you into his side. he lands a kiss on your lips, his presence so warm all around you.

"yeah, babe. missed your cookin'" he murmurs, resting his cheek against your own for one quick, sweet moment. then, of course, the aura of peace is shattered when mickey speaks up.

"yeah sweets, lip can't cook for shit!"

lip moves to the doorway to bicker with mickey in the living room, and you can't help but laugh at their antics. they're annoying, but you love them to death. regardless of it's flaws, you wouldn't trade the current moment for anything in the world.

end.

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist

[raginglesbian2006]

what is your vision on Alastor with a Male Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is kinda rough? Maybe, since Alastor loves dancing and singing, Reader or feels shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings or doesn't hate it and watches Alastor dance and sing

ooh, this is a fun ask, lets go

Alastor with a male reader who's the complete opposite of him

So you joined the Hazbin Hotel out of genuine curiosity

You had died fairly young, almost in your late twenties. You have never figured out why you ended up in hell

So it is safe to say, that when you heard of the Hazbin Hotel, you were eager to join, albeit a little skeptical

Of course, it came with your fair share of anxiety when you knocked on the doors of the hotel and were greeted with the ever-smiling radio demon

It spooked your little heart TO THE CORE

Ah well, fast forward a few weeks later and you were adjusting well

Angel Dust was quite protective of you, claiming you to be his younger brother

Niffty initially took to you since she thought you were a "bad boy" but hey, at least she considers you as a friend now

Charlie and Vaggie have been sweet to you and so have Husk and Sir Pentious

Of course, you'd have trouble trying to bond with Alastor

Alastor was loud, boisterous, and loved to scare the living shit out of people whereas you were quiet, reserved, and soft-spoken

Alastor didn't even pay mind to you that much. To him, you were insignificant

All that changed when he tasted your food though. You cook a mean jambalaya. (You were surprised to find Alastor's plate clean when you just turned around for one second)

After that, the radio demon hung around you from time to time and you started growing comfortable with him as well

You were not a fan of him pulling you along to dance on random occasions when jazz played through the radios

Still, you tried your best to keep up with him. You weren't into all the swing dancing so you resolved to just watch him do all the work lol

You aren't that chatty of a person so you just listen to Alastor blab about anything and everything. He once told you that you were a good listener and patted your head

He gave you a personalized radio one day. He bragged about how he came up with the immaculate design but you were too flustered to notice

So it seemed was the rest of the hotel

The big bad radio demon gave you a gift??? Are we talking about the same radio demon here?

It didn't stop there. You were bombarded with gifts every other day. Sometimes it was books, flowers, tea cup sets, or a full-on attire (He gave you a coat that looked just like his, except with the colors reversed)

You asked Alastor about his...frequent gift-giving and he very bluntly stated, "Why, my dear, I am trying to court you after all. "

Error 404

He took you out on a date after you recovered from your slight panic attack

You realize you don't mind being the radio demon's boyfriend

He even started being respectful of your quiet nature. He quite likes the peace anyway

Vox is foaming at the mouth and plotting to kill you as we speak

A/N: This turned out a little different than I'd hoped but I hope you enjoy it!

[midnightorchids]

I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!

Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.

Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.

Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.

Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!

Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.

Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.

The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.

You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.

He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.

You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.

All of it was coming together now.

The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.

Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.

You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.

“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.

“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.

“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.

“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.

You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.

You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.

“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.

“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”

[chosok-amo]

Hi hi! I love your satosugu x reader fics so much that I love to read-read a lot of them! So i saw ur requests are open and I was wondering if I could request a satosugu x reader where reader got food poisoning and her boyfriends are just taking care of her and nursing back to health? Thank you!🫶

FOOD POISON : UNITY OF HELL : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

day off, clothes off, sleep until noon, take-out and relaxing day: that’s the original plan, but they didn’t notice among the food they’ve ordered, there is one food that would make you go through hell.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fluff, crack, GAY SATOSUGUUUUUU, you screaming at them for asking stupid questions while you are in pain lol.

i’ve never had food poisoning before, no one is closer to me ever had one, so i don’t really know how it works and how the reaction is supposed to be, but i’m trying my best with some research and i hope i’m doing your request a justice. (and reader have to be dramatic, as always)

it was a lazy sunday noon, and you, along with your two boyfriends, were just waking up from an unusually long sleep. the sun was peeking through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, but none of you had any intention of getting up right away. the week had been exhausting, filled with missions, work, and meetings, but today, there was nothing—no obligations, no expectations, just the three of you together in the comfort of your shared home.

none of you had bothered with clothes either; it was one of those days where the world outside didn’t exist. you were in your underwear while your boyfriends in their black boxer, hugging there body perfectly, sprawled lazily on the couch in the living room, just enjoying each other’s company. the decision to cook was quickly dismissed as too much effort, especially since the three of you had been sleeping for what felt like forever. instead, you decided to order food, something simple and satisfying, and now you were all gathered around the coffee table, your meals spread out in front of you.

you sat in between geto and gojo, your legs comfortably stretched out across their laps. the atmosphere was serene, peaceful, the only sounds being the occasional clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversation as you talked about nothing in particular. gojo was leaning back against the cushions, his arm resting lazily over your shoulders while he occasionally brought a bite of food to his mouth. geto was on your other side, much more focused on the food, though he’d glance over at you every now and then, offering a small smile or a teasing comment.

“i could get used to this,” you sighed contentedly, taking a sip of your drink before reaching for another bite of your meal. “no work, no missions… just the three of us doing absolutely nothing.”

geto laughed. “and waking up at noon,” he pointed out, glancing at his phone’s clock and taking another bite of his rice. gojo groaned. “hey, it’s already been so long since we were able to stay in bed this late. don’t judge.” he pinched your thigh and nuzzled his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath.

“we’re so gonna regret this on monday, though.“ you could feel his warm breath on your neck as he spoke. geto leaned forward to grab his drink, and gojo took the opportunity to slide his hands over your body, shamelessly tracing the curves of your figure.

“god, you look so delicious, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, and you could feel your skin prickling under his touch. geto shifted a little, leaning back against the couch pillows.

“you’re not gonna leave anything for me?” he smirked, his gaze fixed on your bare legs in his lap.

you were just about to respond, maybe throw a witty remark at them, but before you could, geto spoke again—this time with his mouth full of food. bits of rice slipped out of his mouth and landed right on your hand.

“ugh, suguru! disgusting!” you groaned, pulling your hand away from him as you stared at the food that had just fallen onto your skin. “don’t talk when your mouth’s full! gross!”

gojo chuckled at your reaction, his lips still lingering near your ear. “oh, come on, it's not that bad.” he teasingly tried to brush the food away, but only ended up smearing it across your skin.

“oh, is that what we’re grossed out by now?” gojo chuckled, watching with amusement as you tried to wipe the rice off. his hand continued its journey up your body, his fingers slipping under the elastic of your bra.

“I’ve done a lot grosser things to you before, love,” he continued with a wink, and geto snickered.

gojo glanced over at geto, and his signature smirk returned to his face. “y’know, it looks kind of tasty.” he casually brought your hand to his mouth, his tongue licking the food off your skin.

you groaned again, rolling your eyes as gojo smeared the food even more across your skin. “ugh, not in front of my food!” you protested, trying to wiggle away from his touch, but his grip was firm as his fingers teasingly slipped under the elastic of your bra.

gojo’s comment about doing “grosser things” made you shoot him a glare, though you couldn't stop the heat creeping up your neck. “you two are seriously disgusting,” you muttered, though your words lacked any real bite as geto snickered beside you, clearly enjoying your reaction.

before you could pull your hand away, gojo brought it to his mouth, his tongue lazily licking the food off your skin. “mmm, tastes good,” he winked, his lips brushing over your knuckles, the playful grin never leaving his face.

“gross!” you groaned, pulling your hand back quickly. “not while I’m eating!” you swatted at both of them, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust. “you two are nasty, seriously.”

they both laughed, clearly unfazed by your complaints, and you shook your head, unable to keep the small smile from tugging at your lips. as irritating as they could be, you loved how effortlessly playful things were between the three of you.

“aww, don’t play innocent.” gojo chuckled, his hand running up your side until he reached your chest. he gave your breast a firm squeeze through the thin layer of the bra. “you’re a pretty dirty girl yourself, y’know?” he teased. “remember what you did a few nights ago, baby?”

geto shifted a little in his seat, his eyes flicking between you two. “yeah, i remember that too,” he chimed in, a smirk on his face. “quite a messy night it was.”

you blushed at their words, feeling the heat creeping up your neck again. “ugh, you guys…” you tried to protest, but it was difficult to stay annoyed with their playful banter, especially with gojo’s hand still exploring your body.

“can’t i just eat my lunch without you two acting like a bitch in heat?” you huffed, trying to keep a straight face, which only made them let out another round of laughs.

“well, aren’t you getting all feisty now.” gojo’s hand continued to wander over your body, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “that’s a little different than the usual you crying out our names, ain’t it?”

geto chuckled, leaning a little closer. “c’mon, baby, we just want to play a little.” he slid his hand up your leg, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. “you know we can’t resist you when you look so damn delicious.”

“especially when you’re wearing just your underwear like that,” gojo murmured, his hand sliding under your bra, his thumb running over your nipple. “mmm, you’re making it really hard for us to behave, you know.”

geto’s hand now grabbed your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “yeah, it’s getting kind of difficult to hold back.” he leaned a little closer, his lips brushing your neck. “we can just leave these leftovers here for later.”

as gojo’s hand continued its mischievous journey over your body and geto’s fingers teasingly traced the edge of your underwear, you suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. your stomach twisted uncomfortably, the once-enjoyable meal now making you feel queasy. without warning, the teasing and playful atmosphere shifted as you quickly put your food down.

“wait, hold on...” you muttered, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. “ugh, i feel like i’m gonna throw up.”

both gojo and geto immediately picked up on the change in your demeanor, their teasing grins transforming into expressions of concern.

“babe, what’s wrong?” gojo’s hand moved to your back, gently rubbing circles across your skin. “are you okay?”

geto’s hand squeezed your thigh, his gaze fixed on your face. “yeah, you look a little pale all of a sudden.” he reached out to press his hand against your forehead. “you feeling sick?”

you barely managed to get a word out before a sharp, intense pain shot through your stomach, making you groan and fall to your knees on the soft carpet, your arms instinctively wrapping around your stomach. the suddenness of the pain left you gasping for breath as you pressed your hands to your abdomen, hoping the pressure would help ease the discomfort.

“fuck…” you hissed through clenched teeth, your head dropping forward as another wave of pain hit. you looked up at gojo and geto, both of their faces now filled with alarm, hovering over you.

“what the fuck did we just eat?” you groaned, your voice strained as you tried to make sense of what was happening. “did one of you poison me or something?”

“hey, hey, easy!” gojo knelt down next to you, his hands supporting you. “are you in pain? where does it hurt?

geto was on your other side, his hand on your back, his eyes scanning your face. “yeah, try to stay calm,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

gojo glanced over at geto. “we all ate the same thing, there’s no way it’s poisoning.” he turned his attention back to you, his expression urgent. “just focus on breathing, babe.”

but their concern did nothing to ease the pain or your growing frustration. you managed to lift your head and glare at geto through the discomfort. “oh yeah? stay calm?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “how about you be in my shoes for a second, and we’ll see how calm the fuck down _you_ are, huh?”

the sharpness in your tone made geto blink, caught off guard by your sass even though he was so used to it. gojo stifled a chuckle despite the situation, clearly trying not to make things worse, but you could feel the tension rising.

“sorry, sorry,” geto muttered, his hand still on your back, though a sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “i just don’t want you to panic…”

you groaned again, doubling over slightly as the pain surged, but the sarcasm came through even stronger. “well, too late for that, genius.” you couldn’t help it. the pain made your patience nonexistent, and though you knew they were only trying to help, you couldn’t resist snapping at them. “oh, god, i feel like i'm going to throw up.”

both men exchanged glances as you continued to snap at them, and as much as they both disliked seeing you in pain and the situation at hand, they couldn’t help but silently find the way you were acting a little cute.

geto’s hand continued to rub your back, trying to soothe you. “calm down, sweetheart, everything is going to be alright,” he whispered. “deep breaths, okay?”

gojo still knelt in front of you, his eyes scanning your body for any signs of what could be causing this. “are you sure it’s your stomach?” you were curled over, the pain relentless as you tried to catch your breath. as gojo and geto exchanged glances, trying to comfort you, you could feel their silent amusement beneath their concern, which only made your irritation flare even more. geto’s hand on your back was supposed to be soothing, but the words “calm down” coming out of his mouth felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“calm down? calm down?” you muttered sarcastically under your breath, shooting another glare his way. “yeah, sure, let me just ‘calm down’ while my stomach feels like it’s being ripped apart. genius advice.”

gojo, still kneeling in front of you with that worried-but-trying-to-figure-this-out look on his face, glanced at your stomach and asked, “are you sure it’s your stomach?”

you shot him a look so sharp he actually blinked in surprise. “i don’t know, satoru, maybe ask me one more time and see if you can meet my hand when i slap the shit out of you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you groaned again, curling further until your forehead was practically pressed into the carpet.

both of them were quiet for a moment, taken aback by your sass, but you could feel their soft chuckles vibrating around you, despite the seriousness of the situation. for a brief moment, they were too stunned to say anything. they were used to your sarcasm and sass, but this was a bit more than usual, even for you. gojo was caught completely off guard by your sharp response, while geto tried to suppress a smile at your stubbornness.

despite the worrying situation, they found it amusing how even in pain and suffering, you were still as feisty as ever. they knew you were dealing with a lot, yet you couldn't just show vulnerability—you always had to put on a tough front.

gojo leaned in a little bit, his hand gently rubbing your leg. “babe, i understand you’re in pain right now, but don’t lash out on us.” his voice was gentle, yet stern. “we’re just trying to help.”

geto knelt beside you, his hand still on your back, but the smile was now gone from his lips. “he’s right,” he said, glancing over at gojo. “you need to calm down a little. we can’t figure out what’s wrong if you’re yelling at us.”

“sorry,” you muttered weakly through gritted teeth between groans, the pain nearly unbearable now. “i think i’m gonna throw up… again,” you managed to say, your voice shaky, but your usual attitude still slipped through. “just… get me to the bathroom, please..”

at your words, a wave of worry washed over both men’s faces. without wasting any time, gojo scooped you up effortlessly in his arms, while geto hurried ahead to the bathroom, clearing the way.

“don’t worry,” gojo muttered as he carried you to the bathroom. “we’re right here. you’re going to be okay, baby.”

geto waited by the toilet, his hands ready to hold your hair back. he exchanged a worried glance with gojo before turning back to you. as soon as gojo rushed you into the bathroom and lowered you near the toilet, you barely had time to brace yourself before everything came up. your hands gripped tightly around the edge of the toilet as your body convulsed, throwing up with such intensity it left you breathless. you slumped onto the floor, your body weak from the sudden surge.

both gojo and geto knelt either side of you, their expressions a mix of worry and helplessness as they watched you retching into the toilet. gojo's hand rubbed your back, trying to offer what little comfort he could, while geto held back your hair.

"it's gonna be alright, babe," gojo reassured you, his voice gentle as he tried to keep you calm. "take deep breaths. you're doing great."

geto handed you a glass of water, his gaze never leaving you. “here, rinse your mouth after. it should help.” as you leaned against the toilet, shaking and breathless, they both stayed by your side, their support unwavering. gojo's hand continued to rub your back slowly, while geto gently placed a damp washcloth on your forehead to wipe away the sweat.

“you think this is just food poisoning?” geto asked, his voice low, glancing over at gojo. “she hasn’t eaten anything we haven't, though, right?”

gojo shook his head, a deep frown on his face. “i don't know. it's not like her to get this sick.”

after what felt like an eternity of being slumped over the toilet, the nausea finally began to subside. you stayed still for a moment, taking shallow breaths to make sure the worst had passed. with a shaky hand, you reached for the flush button, your fingers fumbling as you pressed it, the sound of the toilet swirling away the evidence of your sickness.

you sighed heavily, resting your head and back against the cool porcelain for a moment, feeling utterly drained. “well, that was fun,” you muttered sarcastically, voice hoarse from the vomiting.

gojo’s hand was still gently rubbing your back, his touch grounding, and geto carefully wiped your face with the damp washcloth, the coolness of it offering a little relief.

“you think you’re done?” gojo asked softly, his voice calm but still tinged with concern as he looked down at you.

“yeah, i think so,” you sighed, finally managing to sit up a little straighter, though your body still felt weak. “whatever that was, it seems to be over... for now.”

as you slowly sat up, both men let out a collective sigh. gojo's hand moved to your shoulder, supporting you as you tried to steady yourself.

“take a moment,” he said, his voice gentle. “don’t push yourself, babe.”

geto was still knelt next to you, his hand now resting on your thigh. he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your sarcasm, even in this situation.

“i think you’ve used up all your sarcasm for the day, sweetheart,” he teased, patting your leg. you chuckled softly at geto’s teasing, shaking your head as you leaned back against the cold bathroom wall, still feeling weak. “yeah, i think i’m tapped out for now,” you muttered with a tired grin, glancing between the two of them.

gojo, always quick to catch on to your needs, shifted closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder. “we can just stay here for a second, babe,” he whispered, his voice soothing as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you gently into him.

geto sat down on your other side, his back pressed against the cold tiles as well, the three of you now slumped on the bathroom floor. his hand remained on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. “we’ll rest as long as you need, no rush,” he said softly, though you could still catch a hint of his playful nature in his voice.

you closed your eyes for a moment, relishing the comfort of their presence. the cold tiles beneath you provided some relief from the lingering nausea, while the warmth of gojo's body against yours made you feel safe and loved.

as you leaned your head against his shoulder, you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

geto's touch on your thigh was equally comforting, his fingers gently kneading your skin. he was still silently amused by your outburst earlier, but his primary concern was your well-being. the bathroom was silent for a moment, save for the sound of your breathing and the soft hum of the overhead light. eventually, gojo spoke up, his voice low and soothing.

“do you think you could stand up, babe?” he asked gently, his hand rubbing your arm. “we should probably move you to the couch or something.”

geto nodded in agreement, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns on your thigh. “yeah, you can’t stay on the bathroom floor forever, sweetheart. that’s not very comfortable.” you shivered slightly, feeling the cold sweat clinging to your skin, your body still weak and shaky. you shook your head slowly, not even attempting to move. “i don’t feel like walking,” you muttered, your voice a little hoarse. “i just want to go to bed.”

gojo immediately tightened his arm around you, his concern deepening. “you’re feeling cold, aren’t you?” he said softly, his hand moving to rub your shoulder in an attempt to warm you up.

geto frowned, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, noticing the way your skin was clammy. “you’re covered in cold sweat, sweetheart,” he observed, his fingers gently wiping some of the moisture from your forehead. “you really shouldn’t stay like this.”

before you could even respond, gojo scooped you up effortlessly into his arms again, clearly having made up his mind. “bed it is,” he said firmly, but there was a softness in his voice. “we’ll get you warm and comfortable. no more bathroom floors today.”

as gojo carried you out of the bathroom and into the living room, geto followed closely behind, a stern expression still on his face.

“you can’t just lie down without drying yourself off first,” he scolded gently, his gaze fixed on your shivering form in gojo’s arms. “we don’t want you to catch a cold on top of everything else.”

he moved ahead of them and headed towards the bedroom, pulling back the covers and fluffing the pillows.

“we need to get her into some dry clothes too,” he muttered to himself. gojo carried you into the bedroom and carefully laid you down on the bed. the sheets were cool and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold bathroom floor.

he sat down beside you, his hand still rubbing your arm as geto rummaged through the dresser for some clean clothes.

“you’re shaking, babe,” gojo said, concern evident in his voice. “we’ll get you warm and comfy, just give us a minute, okay?”

geto came back with a soft t-shirt and some sweatpants, setting them down on the bed. gojo gently helped you sit up, his strong arms supporting you. they worked together, guiding your arms into the sleeves of the t-shirt. the soft fabric felt comforting against your skin, instantly making you feel more relaxed.

once you were dressed in the fresh clothes, gojo helped you lie back down on the bed. geto quickly pulled up the covers, tucking them snugly around you.

“there you go,” gojo said softly, his hand smoothing your hair back from your forehead. “better?” you shifted slightly on the bed, the cool sheets a brief relief, but the aches still lingered. leaning into gojo’s side, you murmured, “my head hurts… and my stomach… still hurts,” your voice soft and tired, the pain clear in every word.

both gojo and geto exchanged worried glances, their faces etched with concern. they knew this wasn’t just a simple case of food poisoning or an upset stomach. you were clearly in a lot of pain, and it was obvious something more serious was happening.

gojo's hand continued to stroke your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “i know, babe. we’ll get you some ibuprofen for the headache,” he said, his voice low and soothing. geto sat down on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand reaching to touch your forehead as well. “do you think it’s food poisoning?” he asked gojo, his gaze on you.

gojo shook his head, a deep frown still etched on his face. “i don’t think so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face. “food poisoning doesn’t usually cause this much pain, and she hasn't eaten anything we haven’t.”

he looked over at geto, his expression tense. “we need to figure out what’s really going on. she’s clearly not feeling well, and we can’t just keep guessing.” geto’s brow furrowed in concern as he listened to gojo. he could see the worry etched on your face, and it made his heart ache. “you’re right,” he said, his voice steady but filled with urgency. “i’ll call shoko and see if she knows anything. maybe she can give us some advice or come check on her.”

he stood up, moving toward his phone with purpose. he quickly dialed shoko’s number, keeping his eyes on you, silently reassuring you with his gaze before he walked out of the room. as geto left the room, phone in hand, gojo continued to fuss over you, his fingers gently combing through your hair and his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“don’t worry,” he muttered softly, his voice a soothing whisper. “we’ll figure this out. shoko’ll be here soon, and she’ll know what to do.” you finally fell into a deep sleep after shoko arrived and provided you with medicine, diagnosing you with food poisoning. thankfully, you were only experiencing slight diarrhea and a fever, but the worst seemed to be over, and you finally had some peace.

in the living room, gojo and geto set to work cleaning up the mess of takeout containers and leftovers scattered about. as they tackled the remnants of your lazy day, gojo noticed something odd—a box of food he didn’t remember ordering or eating.

he raised an eyebrow, picking up the container and inspecting it closely. “hey, sugu,” he called out, his voice curious as he approached his boyfriend, who was busy stacking plates in the sink. “did you eat this?” geto glanced at the container that gojo was holding, his expression one of confusion as he took it in his own hands. he studied it for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall.

“no, i didn’t even know we had this,” he replied, his voice puzzled. “do you remember ordering it?” gojo shook his head, his eyes fixed on the mysterious food. “i don’t remember ordering it either,” he said, his tone a mix of confusion and curiosity.

he looked to geto for answers, but he was just as bewildered. the fact that neither of them remembered ordering the food was strange and a little alarming.

“where could it have come from, then?” gojo mused aloud, his fingers tapping against the container. geto leaned closer to the container, inspecting the food with a furrowed brow. after a moment, he straightened up and said, “you know, it's possible that she ate this. maybe she thought it was part of the order we placed and just went for it.”

gojo considered the possibility, the theory making some sense. “yeah, that could be true,” he said slowly, his eyes still fixed on the food.

he glanced over at geto, a mix of realization and concern in his expression. “but that means we’ve been sitting around on our asses, clueless, while she’s been the one to actually experience food poisoning.” geto nodded firmly, his expression serious as he looked at gojo. “we’re definitely not ordering from that place again,” he said, determination in his voice. “i won’t take another chance for you or her to end up with food poisoning. it’s not worth it.”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring geto's seriousness. “yeah, you're right,” he said, his grip tightening on the container. “no more ordering from that place. i can’t handle seeing her like that again.”

he looked down at the food once more, a mixture of anger and concern playing across his face. “i just can’t believe we didn’t give it a second thought until now.” gojo sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “i just hope she’ll be okay. shoko did say she’ll be fine, right? just need some rest and fluids?”

geto nodded, his expression reassuring as he leaned against the counter. “yeah, shoko said it’s just a mild case of food poisoning, and she’ll be fine with some rest and fluids,” he assured gojo. “we just gotta make sure she hydrates and gets plenty of sleep. but she should be back to normal in no time.”

gojo exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “that’s good to hear,” he murmured, his frown lessening slightly. a wave of relief course through him. he ran his hand through his hair again, feeling a bit foolish for not having realized it sooner.

“god, i feel like an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the food. he set the container down on the counter and turned to geto, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “i can’t believe we didn’t think to check if she had eaten anything different. we’re some great boyfriends, huh?”

geto chuckled softly, sensing gojo's guilt-ridden thoughts. he reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. “hey, it’s okay,” he reassured him. “yeah, we messed up this time, but we’ll be more careful in the future. that’s what matters, right?”

he paused for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “besides, we may be lousy at checking our food orders, but i think we make pretty damn good boyfriends otherwise.” gojo couldn’t help but crack a small smile at geto’s words. his boyfriend’s optimism was contagious, and it helped to ease some of the self-blame he was feeling.

“yeah, i guess you’re right,” he admitted, his hand reaching out to lightly shove geto’s shoulder. “we’re not perfect, but damn, we’re pretty close.”

he let out a breath, his eyes returning to the container on the countertop. “we really should throw this out, huh? just in case.” geto shot gojo a look, raising an eyebrow with a familiar attitude that gojo instantly recognized—you’d rubbed off on him, no doubt. “yeah, obviously,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, mirroring the sass you’d so often used.

gojo couldn’t help but laugh loudly, the sound filling the kitchen. geto’s sudden sassiness reminded him vividly of you, and he had to admit, it was oddly endearing coming from his usually more stoic boyfriend.

“damn, you’re really picking up her attitude, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning against the countertop with a wide grin. “next thing i know, you’ll be rolling your eyes at me and everything.”

geto chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “oh, i wouldn’t put it past me,” he responded, feigning nonchalance. “if you keep up your smartass comments, i might just start rolling my eyes more often.”

he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his hands holding the taller man in the waist. “you better watch yourself, satoru. i’m learning from the best here.” gojo’s grin only widened at geto’s playful threat. he could feel the warm heat of geto’s hands on his waist, and the closeness of their bodies sent a shiver up his spine.

“oh, is that a challenge, babe?” he purred, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone.

he closed the remaining gap between them, his arms wrapping around geto’s neck and drawing him closer. “you better watch out, i can get pretty smart-mouthed myself.” as they stood there, bodies pressed against each other, their breath mingling and the heat between them growing rapidly, gojo’s mind began to wander. geto’s boldness and playfulness brought out a primal desire within him.

a low growl rumbled in his throat, his fingers digging into geto’s shirt as he leaned in, his lips grazing against the soft skin of geto’s neck.

“keep this up, and you’re gonna get more than just rolling eyes, suguru,” he whispered, his voice dripping with innuendo. geto shivered at the sound of gojo’s voice, the rough and lustful tone sending a wave of heat pooling in his stomach. he could feel the desire between them, a dangerous and intense thing.

he pressed himself closer, his body molding against gojo’s with a fervor. his hands moved, moving under the hem of gojo’s shirt, fingers tracing the defined muscles of his abdomen.

“promise?” he breathed out, his own voice thick with need. too busy in their own little bubble, they didn’t notice you walked out of the hallway, still feeling weak but managing to steady yourself, you caught sight of your boyfriends locked in an intense moment. rolling your eyes with a hint of sarcasm, you slowly approached them.

“cute,” you muttered dryly, your voice laced with mock amusement as you took in the sight of them. despite feeling drained, you couldn't resist teasing them even in this situation. a startled gasp escaped gojo’s lips as he heard your voice. he pulled away from geto, his eyes wide with surprise and caught off guard. his cheeks instantly flushed a slight shade of pink.

geto, on the other hand, smirked at the sight of you. his hand move from gojo's back to on the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace.

“hey there, sleeping beauty,” he said, his tone playful as he smiled down at you. gojo chuckled nervously, still recovering from the abruptness of your arrival. “babe, don’t sneak up on us like that,” he grumbled, his arms folding across his chest in a defensive manner.

he gave you a once-over, noticing the exhaustion that still clung to your features. even though you looked tired and weak, you were still as sarcastic as ever. a mix of relief and amusement flickered in his gaze as he took in your unimpressed expression. you let out a soft hum, too tired to respond with your usual sharp sarcasm, and rested your head against geto’s chest. the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart were comforting, helping ease the lingering discomfort in your stomach.

“mmm... just needed some water,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. geto responded by wrapping his arms around you, his embrace firm and soothing. his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, a silent reassurance.

gojo watched as you snuggled against geto, his heart squeezing with a mixture of affection and concern. he moved closer, his hand gently caressing your hair.

“why didn’t you call us?” he asked, his tone a blend of worry and tenderness. “you shouldn’t be up and moving around. you need to rest, babe.” you tilted your head slightly, giving them both a tired but playful smirk. “i did call you,” you murmured, your voice still weak but laced with teasing. “but apparently, you two were too busy to listen.”

gojo sputtered slightly, caught off guard by your quick, sassy retort. he shot a glance at geto, who simply chuckled in amusement.

“yeah, well, we were just... um...” gojo stumbled over his words, his mind blanking as he struggled to come up with a viable excuse.

geto, meanwhile, chuckled again, his arms still wrapped around you. “you’re a feisty little thing, even when you’re sick,” he teased, giving your side a light poke. gojo shot geto a glare that clearly said ‘thanks for the help.’ he knew there was no use in trying to justify their... distracted behavior. you had caught them red-handed.

he redirected his attention back to you, his hand reaching to cup your face.

“fine, you got us,” he admitted, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “we should’ve been paying more attention. but seriously, you really shouldn’t be out of bed yet.” you leaned into gojo’s hand, your eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion without lifting your head from geto's chest. “i was just thirsty,” you muttered softly, “and wanted to find something to eat... i feel weak from all the throwing up and... well, the rest.” you grimaced slightly, not needing to explain further.

both geto and gojo’s expressions softened with concern at your words. the sight of you, looking so weak and weary, tugged at their hearts.

geto’s hand continued to gently rub your back, while gojo’s fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“babe, you shouldn’t be eating solids right now,” gojo said, his voice gentle but firm. “you’ll just make yourself sick again. we can get you some water and snacks, but nothing too heavy, okay?”

you nodded.

"great," gojo murmured, his hand still caressing your hair. he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. gojo gave you a small smile, satisfied that you weren’t going to argue. he glanced over at geto, who was still holding you in his arms.

“alright, let’s get you back to bed,” geto said, his arms shifting to lift you into his arms. “you okay holding her?” gojo asked, looking at the other man. “i’ll go get some water and something for her to nibble on.”

geto nodded, his grip on you firm and gentle. he looked down at you, your head resting against his chest. he couldn’t help but think how small and fragile you looked right now, his heart panging with concern.

“i’ve got her,” geto assured gojo as he began walking towards the bedroom. “just bring the food and water when you’re done. i’ll keep her company ‘til then.” gojo nodded in response, his gaze lingering on you and geto. a mix of worry and affection was evident in his eyes.

“i’ll be there in a minute,” he said, his voice hushed as he watched you being carried away. he knew geto would take care of you, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of helplessness.

with a slight shake of his head, he turned and headed towards the kitchen to gather the requested supplies. gojo moved quickly through the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with cool water. he also grabbed a few soft, bland snacks that would be gentle on your stomach.

as he did, his mind wandered back to you. he was used to you being strong and independent, able to handle yourself. seeing you so weak and vulnerable was a rare sight.

gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. he should’ve been more attentive to you and your condition earlier. minwhile, geto carried you into the bedroom, his steps were slow and measured, trying not to jostle you too much. he gently laid you down on the bed, propping up the pillows to make you more comfortable. he sat down on the edge, his eyes never leaving your face.

he reached out, his hand finding yours and giving it a soft squeeze. “you holding up okay, babe?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. you gave a small nod in response, your hand weakly squeezing his back. the fatigue in your eyes and the exhaustion etched across your face were hard to miss.

despite his concern, geto couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at the sight of you. you looked so vulnerable, so dependent on him and gojo. it was a rare glimpse of your softer side, and a side that he appreciated seeing, even if it was under these circumstances.

geto continued to watch you, his eyes carefully scanning your features. he could see the way your body tensed as a wave of nausea struck you, and the way your eyelids fluttered as exhaustion clawed at you.

he reached out, gently running his fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture. he didn’t say much, knowing that you needed rest more than words at the moment. his presence was meant to be a silent comfort, a steady reassurance that he was there for you.

he leaned closer, his fingers tracing the soft line of your cheek. “it’s okay,” he murmured, assuring not only you but himself. “toru’s bringing some water and snacks. you need to stay hydrated, okay?”

he paused, his eyes scanning over you. the protective instincts he had over you were kicking into overdrive. “is there anything else you need? a cool washcloth, a bucket to vomit in, anything?” you shook your head, your tired eyes meeting geto’s. “no,” you mumbled weakly. “just... just the water and food for now.”

you closed your eyes momentarily, the effort of talking and staying awake slowly draining you further. you let out a small sigh, your body sinking deeper into the pillows, seeking the comfort and rest they offered.

geto watched you sink into the pillows, his heart clenching a little at the sight. he hated seeing you like this, so weak and weary.

he continued to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. he didn’t say much, letting the silence and the steady rhythm of his hand provide some small comfort.

he knew gojo would be back with the water and snacks soon. he just needed to keep you calm and relaxed until then. as he continued to stroke your hair, geto's mind began to wander. he thought about how this had happened, how you had become so ill. they should've been paying more attention to you, they should've noticed the signs earlier.

guilt stirred in his chest, but he tried to push it aside. there was no use dwelling on past mistakes. right now, his focus needed to be on you, taking care of you and making sure you recovered. as if on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, along with the soft creek of the bedroom door opening.

gojo entered the room, holding a glass of water and snacks and banana. he quickly moved closer to the bed, his eyes taking in your tired appearance.

“hey, my love,” he murmured quietly, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “i’ve got water and some light snacks for you.” you opened your eyes as gojo approached, a slight shift of your head acknowledging his presence. the simple act seemed to require great effort, your eyes barely able to stay focused.

the sound of his voice, low and gentle, pierced through the haze of fatigue. you managed a small, weak smile as you looked at him, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your gaze. “thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you move to sit properly.

gojo placed the glass of water on the bedside table, along with the snacks. he watched as you moved to sit up, your movements slow and labored. concern flickered in his eyes, but he held back from fussing over you too much.

“take it easy,” he murmured, his hand gently guiding you back against the pillows. “you don’t need to sit up. just rest and try to drink some water, okay?” you raised an eyebrow at gojo, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite your exhaustion. “how am i supposed to drink while laying down? it’s just gonna go all over my face,” you teased, your voice weak but sarcastic.

gojo chuckled softly, amused by your feistiness despite your current state. he knew even the slightest bit of sarcasm meant you were slowly starting to feel like yourself again. “fair point,“ he conceded, taking the water from the bedside table. he gently shifted to sit beside you, adjusting the pillows so your head was slightly lifted. “but we can’t have you choking while you’re sipping water now, can we? so let me do it for you.”

geto, who had been watching the exchange between you and gojo, rolled his eyes playfully. he couldn’t help but find your stubborn sassiness endearing, even in your weakened condition. “just give in and let satoru help you, baby,” he chimed in, a hint of amusement in his tone. “it’s better than having a wet pillow.”

you chuckled softly, glancing over at geto with a tired but amused smile. “sorry, but sometimes satoru says things that just make me want to slap him in the face,” you muttered, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

gojo clutched his chest in mock offense, feigning a wounded expression. “hey! i’m just trying to help you, you know,” he retorted, a fake pout forming on his lips. meanwhile, geto chuckled at your exchange. your sharp tongue and witty remarks never failed to entertain them both. “always got something to say, huh?” he teased.

he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head as he watched you and gojo continue banter. geto was grateful that even in your current state, you still had your feisty personality. it was a good sign that you hadn’t lost your spirit completely. “just drink the damn water and let us take care of you,” geto chimed in, his tone lighthearted yet firm. “you can go back to being a smartass later.”

gojo huffed dramatically, still pretending to be hurt by your earlier comment. he knew you were just being sarcastic, but he couldn’t resist joining in on the banter. “maybe you prefer geto feeding you water, huh?” he joked, his hand holding the glass of water poised to feed you.

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, i want you to,” you said softly, your voice teasing but sincere as you looked up at gojo. despite the playful banter, there was something reassuring about having him take care of you, even if he was a little over the top sometimes.

gojo couldn't resist smirking at your words, loving the fact that you still wanted him to take care of you, despite the fact he was the one who had initially messed up. “you just can’t resist me, can you?” he teased, his tone filled with his usual arrogance. geto smirked as well, his eyes flickering between you and gojo, enjoying the interaction. he knew how much gojo treasured your dependence on him, even if it was just for something simple like feeding you water.

gojo carefully lifted the glass to your lips, his hand supporting the back of your head as you took small sips. he watched as your throat gently bobbed with each swallow, his eyes full of tenderness. “there you go,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “just a few more sips, okay?”

you nodded.

gojo continued to help you drink, making sure you took small sips so as not to overwhelm your still-sensitive stomach. he could see the tiredness etched on your face, but he also saw a flicker of gratitude in your eyes. once you had finished the glass, he set it down on the nightstand. gojo gently lowered your head back onto the pillow, adjusting your position to ensure you were comfortable. geto moved a little closer, his hand resting on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“you feel a bit warmer than before,” he commented, his voice laced with concern. “how’s your stomach? do you think you can manage some snacks?” you nodded weakly, a tired but grateful smile on your face. “yeah, i think the banana would be fine,” you murmured, feeling a little more stable now that the worst of it had passed.

gojo and geto exchanged glances, pleased to see you slowly regaining your strength. gojo grabbed the banana from the bedside table, peeling it open. he broke off a piece and held it up to your lips. “take small bites, okay?” he reminded you gently.

geto watched from the side, his hand now gently rubbing your shoulder. he could tell that you were starting to feel better, but he still wanted to ensure you didn’t push yourself too hard. “just focus on eating slowly,” he said, his voice steady and calming. “we don’t want you getting sick again.”

you chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “got it, small bites,” you teased, opening your mouth as gojo brought the piece of banana closer. he fed you carefully, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you take the bite. “there you go, my beautiful spoiled girl,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

geto chuckled at gojo's comment, shaking his head in amusement. he knew gojo loved pampering a little too much, but he couldn't deny it was cute seeing you being taken care of so lovingly. “always with the spoiling,” geto mused, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair off your forehead before back to your shoulder.

gojo just shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. he couldn’t help it; you were his beautiful girl, and he loved doting on you. he broke off another piece of banana and raised it to your lips. “can you blame me for spoiling her when she’s so damn cute like this?” gojo asked, looking over at geto with a cheeky grin.

geto rolled his eyes playfully, knowing he had to step back and let gojo relish in his spoiling tendencies a little. “no, i guess i can’t,” he admitted, a slight smirk on his face. he leaned back, his hand still resting on your shoulder, while he watched gojo continue to feed you the banana.

gojo took his time feeding you, savouring every moment of pampering you. he felt satisfied knowing he was taking care of you, even if it was in a small way. once you’d finished the banana, he set the peels back on the tray, shifting his attention back to you. “how are you feeling now, baby? any nausea or anything?” he asked, his expression a mix of concern and affection.

you leaned back against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh of relief as you felt the lingering tension in your stomach start to ease. “i’m better now,” you murmured, your voice still a little tired but much calmer than before.

“my stomach still feels uncomfortable, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore.” you paused for a moment, resting your hand on your belly as if testing the waters. “i think the worst of it is over,” you added, your lips curving into a small, relieved smile as you glanced up at gojo.

gojo’s concern softened slightly as he heard your words. it was a relief to know that you were feeling a bit better. he noticed the way you placed your hand on your stomach, as if checking your condition. “that’s good to hear,” he said, his voice gentle. “but remember, no solids for a while more, okay?”

geto spoke up from beside you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. “just stick to the liquids for now,“ he agreed. “let your stomach rest.”

you nodded at both of them, feeling reassured by their concern. “yeah, i know,” you replied, your voice soft. “no solids, i promise.” your hand still rested on your stomach, but the discomfort was manageable now, and their gentle presence made it easier to relax. “thanks for looking out for me,” you added, glancing between gojo and geto with a small smile.

both gojo and geto smiled back, their gazes soft and tender. they knew you weren’t fully recovered yet, but the fact that you could smile and talk without too much discomfort was a good sign. “of course, we always look out for you,“ geto said gently, his hand rubbing your shoulder in a comforting gesture. gojo chimed in as well, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. “we’d do anything to make sure you’re okay,“ he murmured, his eyes filled with affection.

the room fell into a comfortable silence as geto and gojo continued to watch over you, observing your condition and making sure you were as comfortable as possible. gojo’s hand remained on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin while geto’s hand continued its soothing rubbing on your shoulder. they were both quietly observing you, watching for any signs of discomfort or distress, ready to act if necessary.

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you felt the warmth of their affection surrounding you. "if you two keep this up," you began, your voice teasing but sincere, “i won’t be able to help it... i’ll just fall in love with you all over again.”

you gazed up at them, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in their tender expressions, the way they cared for you so deeply. it was obvious how much they cared for you, how concerned they were about your wellbeing. the love, the tenderness, it was palpable in the air.

both geto and gojo smirked at your words, their gazes filled with love and understanding. they knew you were teasing, but at the same time, the truth in your words was evident. gojo chuckled softly, his hand still on your cheek. “oh, is that so?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

geto’s smile mirrored gojo’s, his hand on your shoulder giving a gentle comforting squeeze as he spoke. “f we’re too affectionate, will you fall even harder for us, huh?” the room was filled with their laughter, their voices blending together in a mix of lighthearted humor and genuine affection.

gojo’s fingers traced small circles on your skin, his touch light and soothing. “if you fall any harder for us, we’ll have to tie you up and keep you with us always,” he joked. geto shook his head, grinning at gojo’s words. “or we’ll have to lock you up in our arms and never let you go,” he added, his voice filled with affectionate teasing.

you rolled your eyes playfully, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “look at the two of you, going all yandere on me all of a sudden,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “should i be worried?”

though your words were mocking, the affection in your voice was clear. you leaned back into the pillows, raising an eyebrow at both of them. “next thing i know, you’ll be locking me in a tower somewhere, huh?”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, enjoying the playful banter as much as their care. “honestly, i don’t know whether to be scared or flattered,” you added, your smirk growing wider as you met their amused gazes.

gojo’s smirk only widened at your response. “scared and flattered. it’s the perfect mix,” he quipped, his hand moving to run through your hair, his fingers tangling gently in the strands. geto chuckled at your comment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “you should be scared, because you're not going anywhere without us,” he joked.

“we’d happily lock you up in a tower if it means having you all to ourselves,” he added, his voice filled with affection and a hint of possessiveness. the atmosphere in the room was light and playful, their bantering was filled with affectionate teases and mock-threats.

gojo’s hand continued to play with your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. “can you imagine it? you trapped in a tower, surrounded by our love and attention,” he teased, a hint of a smirk on his lips. geto nodded. “we’d take turns feeding you, bathing you, making sure you’re never lonely,” he added, his voice soft but filled with obvious possessiveness.

you nodded with a sarcastic grin, playing along with their possessive teasing. “oh, absolutely,” you said, your voice dripping with mock seriousness. “and in no time, i'll be completely disabled from all that love and attention.” you leaned back further into the pillows, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave them both a knowing look. “sounds like i wouldn’t be able to move an inch without one of you hovering over me. what a life, huh?”

your smirk widened as you added, “i might as well get used to being completely helpless if that’s the plan.” you glanced between gojo and geto, the playful sarcasm in your voice masking the warmth and affection you felt from their over-the-top devotion.

gojo chuckled, enjoying your playful banter. “helpless?” he repeated, his voice filled with mock surprise. “oh, you have no idea how much pleasure we would get from having you completely dependent on us.” geto grinned, eyeing you in a way that showed he was only half-joking. “helpless and completely at our mercy,” he agreed, his voice low, almost sultry.

“sounds like a dream come true for us,” gojo added, his hand moving down to your hip, resting there casually. you felt a shiver run down your spine as their eyes stayed glued to you, watching your every move with a strange intensity. the playful banter took on a different weight, and their unblinking gazes made your heart race.

nervously, you grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked both of them with it. “okay, freaks, stop looking at me like that!” you exclaimed, laughing despite the tension they were building. “seriously, you're making me nervous.”

as they laughed in response, you narrowed your eyes at them, half-joking but with a sliver of suspicion. “i’m starting to think you two are really going to lock me up somewhere,” you added with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “i mean, you’re taking this whole possessive thing a little too far, don’t you think?” you hit them again lightly with the pillow, trying to shake off the nervous energy their intense stares had stirred up. “next thing i know, i’ll wake up chained to the bed or something.”

gojo smirked, dodging the pillow with a laugh. “hey, don’t give us ideas,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

geto chuckled, his gaze flickering over you like a cat eyeing its prey. “chained to the bed, huh? now that's a pretty picture,” he said, his voice sultry and full of mischief. both of them seemed to enjoy playing on your nervous energy, loving the reaction they were getting from you.

gojo leaned in closer, his hand gently taking the pillow from you. “you know, we could make that happen,” he said, his voice low and filled with suggestiveness.

geto moved closer as well, his hand coming to rest on your other hip. “we’d take good care of you, though,” he murmured, his voice a soft contrast to gojo’s more direct approach. “chained up, helpless, completely at our mercy..”

you rolled your eyes at their teasing, feeling your energy wane after all the playful back-and-forth. “yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you muttered, moving to lay down on the bed.

as you stretched out on the cool sheets, your body sinking into the mattress, you couldn’t help but chuckle tiredly. “you two and your nonsense,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you felt exhaustion start to settle in.

closing your eyes, you added with a sigh, “i swear, if you keep talking about chaining me up, i’m gonna fall asleep just to escape.” despite your playful words, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort knowing that even with their jokes, they were always there to take care of you.

gojo chuckled, his hand still holding the pillow he took from you. “we’re just teasing, babe,” he reassured you, his voice now softer, more affectionate. geto shifted closer, his hand rubbing your hip comfortingly. “yeah, we wouldn't really chain you up,” he reassured, a small smile on his lips. as you snuggled deeper into the bed, both gojo and geto noticed the visible fatigue in your eyes. the teasing tone in their voices faded, replaced with a gentler, more caring demeanor.

you shifted in bed, trying to find a position that eased the lingering discomfort in your stomach. letting out a frustrated sigh, you adjusted the blanket around you, tossing slightly before finally settling on your side, resting your head on gojo’s arm. “ugh, i hate this,” you muttered, frowning as the ache still tugged at you.

gojo automatically adjusted his position to accommodate your head, his eyes watching you intently. “i know, babe,” he murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

geto leaned closer from the other side, his hand still gently resting on your hip. “just try to relax,” he said, his voice as soft as ever. they both could see the frustration and discomfort etched on your face and was doing their best to soothe you, both knowing that there wasn’t much they could do apart from provide comfort and emotional support.

gojo’s hand continued to rub your back, his touch gentle but firm. “do you think you can manage a few more sips of water or some tea?” he asked quietly, wanting to help in any way he could.

geto nodded in agreement. “some hydration might help with the discomfort,” he added, his hand patting your hip gently. they both looked genuinely concerned and wanted to see you feeling better as soon as possible. “i’d really like some tea,” you replied softly, glancing at geto with a small smile. “and can you add honey? it always makes me feel better.”

geto returned your smile, nodding gently. “of course,” he said soothingly. “honey-sweetened tea it is.” gojo chimed in, his hand still rubbing your back in a comforting circle. “we’ll make sure it’s not too hot so you can enjoy it without straining your stomach,” he said, his voice filled with care. both of them knew how much a simple cup of tea could mean to you, especially when you weren’t feeling well.

as you turned to face gojo, a playful smile crossed your lips. you lifted the blanket slightly, creating a cozy little space beside you, silently inviting him to join you. “c’mere baby,” you teased lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo chuckled at your invitation, a playful smirk on his lips. he knew exactly what you were suggesting. “oh, can’t resist me, huh?” he teased back, his voice filled with amusement. he didn’t waste a moment, shifting his position and sliding under the covers next to you. his arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer against his body.

as gojo pulled you closer, you let out a soft hum of satisfaction, feeling the warmth radiate from him. you sighed in relief, your body melting into his embrace as you relaxed against him. the gentle pressure of his arm around your waist was comforting, making you feel safe and cherished.

your fingers found their way to his hair, playfully running through the soft strands. it felt nice to be close to him like this, and you couldn’t help but smile at how easy it was to forget your discomfort in his presence. “you always know how to make me feel better,” you murmured, your voice soft as you let your fingers play with his hair, enjoying the moment of calm amidst the chaos.

gojo smirked at your words, feeling a sense of satisfaction in being able to bring you comfort. he leaned into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. he wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you even closer against him, your head resting gently against his chest. “just doing my job, babe,” he said, his voice filled with fondness. “can’t have my beautiful girl feeling less than perfect, now can i?”

you smiled and hummed softly once again, the warmth of the moment enveloped you both. your fingers traced along his cheek, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes sparkled with affection as they locked onto yours. laying on your sides, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble.

“i’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with sincerity. “i just… sometimes i don’t know how to handle everything.” you took a breath, searching his eyes for reassurance. “but you know i love you, right?” you asked, your heart racing slightly at the vulnerability of the moment. “no matter how cranky i get, you mean the world to me.”

gojo smiled affectionately, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tenderly caressing your skin. he knew you had a lot to deal with but was glad you felt comfortable enough to express your emotions. he leaned in close, his eyes never leaving yours. “of course i do,” he murmured, his voice filled with tender conviction. “even when you’re cranky, you’re still the most precious thing to me. nothing could ever change that, not even your worst moods.”

gojo’s smile widened slightly as he continued to caress your cheek, his touch warm and soft. he loved how you still felt the need to reassure him of your love, even though you both knew it in your hearts.

he looked into your eyes, his gaze intense and full of affection. “besides,” he began, his voice dropping to a sultry purr, “i think i kind of like when you get feisty. it’s hot, you know.” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “oh?” you echoed, amusement dancing in your voice. “you find it hot when i'm about to slap the shit out of you?”

gojo chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening playfully. “maybe,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “keeps things exciting, don’t you think?” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. “you’re such a freak, ’toru,” you said with a mock sigh, but there was warmth in your tone, the playful banter between you two feeling comforting and familiar.

gojo gave you a roguish grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. “hey, i can’t help it if you’re so damn hot when you’re all fired up, your feisty side just does something for me,” he chuckled, his hand drifting down to give your hip a light squeeze.

he let out a soft laugh at the mock-exasperation in your voice, loving the lighthearted banter between you. “if loving your fiery side makes me a freak, i’m glad to be one,” he teased, his voice filled with genuine fondness.

gojo’s eyes flickered with mischief as he continued the playful banter. “yeah, maybe that’s why i keep egging you on, ‘cause i just love seeing that feisty side of you come out.” his hand moved back up to your face, his fingertips lightly tracing the line of your jaw. “though i wouldn’t mind you using those hands of yours for something else,” he teased, his voice dropping an octave.

you chuckled, shaking your head slightly at his teasing. “pervert,” you muttered affectionately, but the smile on your face betrayed how much you enjoyed his playful flirting. without another word, you slid your arm under his head, pulling him closer until your lips met his in a soft, lingering kiss. your smile remained against his mouth as you kissed him, the warmth between you two radiating with affection and familiarity. you could feel him relax into you, the teasing replaced with something deeper, more tender.

gojo let out a soft hum, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. his lips moved lazily against yours, tender and affectionate. he could feel himself melt into your touch, his tongue darting out to slide against yours, the taste of you familiar and comforting. his free hand roamed lazily over your body, tracing the curves and dips of your frame, as if trying to memorize every bit of you.

as the kiss continued, his touch grew more intimate, his hand now gently toying with the hem of your shirt, his fingers sliding underneath to graze against your bare skin. he broke the kiss, his lips moving to trail tender kisses down your jawline and to your neck, his breath warm and heavy against your skin. “god, i love you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with quiet awe.

gojo's eyes drifted to your face after he pulls away, studying your expression as he continued to hold you close.

“besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. “i'll take your feisty side, your cranky side, your grumpy side, your sad side… i’ll take all of you, every bit and piece.” he let out a soft, affectionate laugh, his hand rubbing your hip gently. “you’re mine, after all. both the good and the bad. and i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

his eyes stayed fixed on your face, drinking in your expressions as he continued to speak, his voice a low, seductive murmur. “even when you’re being pissy and grumpy, you’re still the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever laid eyes on. and i’ll take all of you, all of your sides.”

he chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your hip in affection. “you’re mine, every part of you. and i wouldn't change a thing about you, including your cranky, feisty moments.” he gently pulled you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body like a protective shield. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke.

you gazed at gojo, a soft smile playing on your lips as his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. your heart swelled at his sweet, possessive confession, and you opened your mouth to respond, but just as you did, the door creaked open.

geto entered, holding a cup of tea with honey, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “am i interrupting something?” he teased lightly, his lips tugging into a smirk as he placed the tea on the bedside table. you glanced at him, your smile widening. “just in time,” you replied with a playful tone, momentarily resting your head against gojo’s chest before reaching for the tea and sitting up.

gojo chuckled softly, his arm still holding you close. he looked toward the door, his lips curving into a smile as he saw geto enter. he rolled his eyes at geto’s teasing question, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “yeah, actually you are,” he shot back with a smirk, watching as you sat up and reached for the tea. he continued to watch you with affectionate eyes, his hand idly tracing small circles on your back as you took a sip of the tea. “thanks, babe,” you said to geto, your voice soft and grateful.

geto moved closer to the bed, his eyes flickering between you and gojo as he studied the subtle interactions between the two of you. he perched himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing over your features, lingering on your face. “how’s the tea?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. he knew you weren’t feeling your best, and the sight of you struggling with discomfort tugged at his heart strings.

you let out a soft, contented moan as the warmth of the tea spread through your body, soothing your throat and stomach. “mmm, that feels so good,” you murmured, handing the cup back to geto with a grateful smile. “thank you, suguru. i feel a lot warmer now.”

geto's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took the cup back from you. he placed it gently on the bedside table before turned his gaze back to you. he knew how much small gestures like bringing you a cup of tea could mean, especially when you were feeling unwell. the look of contentment on your face was confirmation enough that he had done well.

he gently reached out, his hand tenderly brushing hair from your face as he spoke, his voice filled with care. “anything for you, babe. just try to take it easy, yeah?”

you nodded softly, feeling a little more at ease as you shifted your body to lay on your back. the movement was slow and careful, your stomach still a little tender, but the warmth of the tea and the comforting presence of both geto and gojo made it easier.

“i will,” you whispered, looking up at the two of them as you settled back against the pillows. you felt their eyes watching you closely, still protective and filled with concern, but the warmth and care in their gazes made you feel safe.

geto's eyes remained fixed on you, watching your every move with a mixture of concern and tenderness. he could see that your movements were careful, your stomach still causing you some discomfort. he silently scooted closer to you on the bed, his body gently settling next to your own. his hand reached out to gently brush against your arm, his touch feather-light. “just try to relax, sweetheart,” he muttered softly, his voice filled with soothing reassurance.

you shifted a bit, creating just enough space for geto to lay down beside you. “lay with me,” you said softly, gesturing for him to join you. “i want you close.” his presence always made you feel more at ease, and you appreciated how he always seemed to know when you needed comfort.

geto smiled softl, complying with your request without any hesitation. he shifted his body, lowering himself down onto the bed beside you, his body snuggling against your side, molding to your form perfectly. his hand moved to rest gently on your stomach, his touch slow and deliberate, mindful of your discomfort. “i’m right here, babe,” he murmured, his voice gentle and soothing. “not going anywhere.”

“there, that's better,” you murmured, a small smile forming on your lips as you look up the glow in the dark sticker of stars on your ceiling. “now we can relax together.” you could feel the gentle smile on his face, and it made your heart feel a little lighter.

geto snuggled closer to you, his body wrapping around yours like a warm, protective shield. his head rested against your shoulder, his breathing steady and deep, matching yours. his hand continued to gently roamed over your stomach in a soothing pattern, his touch light and rhythmic.

he could feel the smile in your voice, and it made his own heart feel a little warmer. “that’s right,” he whispered, his voice soft and tender. “we’ll relax together, just the three of us.”

“and don’t worry,” he added, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “we’re here for you. always.” he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. “just close your eyes, sweetheart. we’ll take care of you.”

gojo had been watching the scene play out between the two of you from the other side of the bed, his eyes filled with warm affection as he observed the intimate moment.

he could feel the love and comfort radiating from both of you, and it filled his heart with a sense of peace and contentment. he didn’t want to interrupt, but he also yearned to be closer to you. he shifted his position slightly, scooting a little closer, wrapping his arm around you and geto. his head nestled in your shoulder, “go to sleep, baby, we will make sure everything’s gonna be alright.”

as gojo moved closer, geto glanced at him briefly, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. he could feel the love and protectiveness radiating from gojo's body, and it only served to further reassure him. he let his body relax against you, leaning slightly into gojo's embrace as he shifted to accommodate both of them.

“yeah, sweetheart,” he agreed softly, his voice filled with tender warmth. “we’ve got you. let go and rest. we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

you felt their presence around you, feeling the weight of gojo's arm draped over you like a warm, protective blanket. his voice was soft and reassuring, whispering in your ear and bringing a sense of comfort.

you let out a small, contented sigh, feeling the weight of your earlier distress slowly lifting. the warmth and care from both of them made you feel safe and loved, and your eyes started to feel heavy as weariness began to set in. “alright,” you whispered softly, your voice slurred with exhaustion. “i love you both.” and closed your eyes.

gojo tucked his head into your neck, his face nuzzling against your skin. he breathed in deeply, inhaling your scent and taking comfort in your presence.

he could feel the tension slowly easing from your body, and he relished the idea that his and geto’s presence was having a calming effect on you. upon hearing your mumbled declaration of love, gojo couldn't help but smile. he gave you a gentle squeeze, his voice soft and filled with tenderness. “we love you too, sweetheart. get some rest now.”

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 58 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hesitant to drive his family to Disneyland, and he's even more hesitant to make love to you. All he seems to be able to think about is the baby and his desire to plan the perfect, low-key wedding, but you make sure he takes some time to relax.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley couldn't ever remember being this stressed out in his life. Well, besides every single time he had to deal with Meredith. The weeks had absolutely flown by, probably because he was not so secretly dreading driving up to Disneyland for Thanksgiving weekend. He'd voiced his opinions and concerns several times, but apparently your doctor's answer overrode his. Disneyland was happening, and the only thing he'd been able to insist upon for his own peace of mind was the addition of Nat.

Thanksgiving dinner at Mav and Penny's had been relaxing and peaceful. Bradley hadn't been home for the holiday the past two years, and it felt good to have a day to just appreciate everyone around him. Having you there made all the difference, and he knew he wanted you with him for every holiday from now on. You tried to help Penny cook and clean up, but everyone else insisted you rest and just enjoy yourself.

That was just a few hours ago, and now the sun had set, and Noah was in his pajamas. Bradley buckled him in the backseat of the Bronco before checking to make sure all of the bags made their way in as well. That's when he heard the argument coming from the sidewalk. 

"You can sit in the front," you insisted. "I don't mind sitting in the back with Noah."

"No, no," Nat replied, "I insist. I'll sit in the back so you can sit with Bradley."

"But I kind of want to sit with Noah," you told her. "You can sit with Bradley and talk about work."

"Or," Nat replied, "you and he can hammer out some of the wedding details while you sit in the front with him."

"Are you both serious right now?" Bradley asked as he slammed the tailgate shut. "Neither of you want to sit with me?"

He held his arms out to his sides, and you rushed over to give him a hug with a little smirk on your face. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered, pressing your cheek to his chest and giving him a hug. "It's just that Noah is so sweet, and he'd probably hold my hand until he falls asleep."

Nat used this opportunity to get herself situated next to Noah with a bright smile on her face. "You know, I expect this kind of thing from her, but not from you, Princess," Bradley said before kissing the top of your head. "Get in the front and hold my hand instead?"

Thirty minutes later, Bradley was driving up the highway, and he was the only one awake as your hand rested softly in his. He stroked your knuckles and your ring as he wove along the roads on the way up to Anaheim. "I can't believe what you've done to my life," he whispered, shaking his head but smiling. At the beginning of the year, he'd been stressed out pretty much all the time. He would have never planned a trip to Disneyland just for him and Noah, because every day felt impossible back then. If he was honest with himself, every day still felt challenging now with Noah getting older and the baby on the way, but nothing was ever harder because of you. It was always better.

He heard rustling in the backseat, and when he glanced in his mirror, he saw that Nat was awake. "Javy texted me," she said with a yawn when she met his eyes. "He said your dog is a pussy magnet."

Bradley snorted. "Let me guess. He took her for a walk and women came out of the woodwork to talk to him?"

She hummed and said, "Maybe leaving Skittles with him for the weekend was a bad idea."

"Nah," Bradley replied, stifling his laughter. "I'm sure he told them that he already has a really mean girlfriend and that she would kick their asses if they looked at him too long."

She leaned forward and smacked the back of his head. "I'm not mean."

"Sure, Nat."

"Hey, I did the impossible by finding you a wife. That's nice person shit right there."

"Yet with the undertone of condescension," Bradley replied, making her laugh. "I do owe you though. And you won't even let me say thank you."

This time she patted him gently on the back of his head. "You can say it one time."

"Thanks, Nat."

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

You vaguely remembered half walking and half being carried up to the hotel room in your state of exhaustion. Thanksgiving had taken more out of you than you thought considering you barely did anything to help Mav and Penny with dinner or dessert. But apparently the turkey made you sleepy. Everything was making you sleepy now. But you were finally past the progesterone shots, and your doctor said everything was looking good.

Friday morning when you woke up as the sun just started peeking in through the window, you jolted up in bed naked. Bradley was still asleep next to you, snoring softly, but you looked around the room a bit frantically. "Daddy," you gasped, shaking him awake. "Bradley! Where's Noah?"

He rolled onto his back and looked up at you through barely cracked open eyes. "Princess?" he rasped, simply reaching for you and trying to pull you back against him. But the other bed was empty, and your heart wouldn't calm down.

"Where's Noah?" you repeated, and now he started to sit up.

"Next door," he mumbled. "He's in the other room with Nat, Baby."

You placed your hand over your heart and eased yourself back down onto the pillow as you whispered, "Right. Right. Sorry, I just barely remember you even bringing me to the room last night."

"Don't apologize," he murmured next to your ear as he pulled you closer to him. "You're the best Mommy." His face was pressed against your neck and shoulder, and his arm was like a boa constrictor, tightening little by little until around your ribs until you were snug against him. You felt protected and loved as the sound of his steady breathing calmed you down. But he had morning wood, and you could feel Bradley's erection firm and long against the back of your thigh as he spooned you. 

It had literally been months since you felt his cock thrusting inside you. You and he hadn't had vaginal intercourse since before he left for his special flight mission in Japan, and now you were aching painfully. Sure, you'd had fun getting him off with your hands, mouth and breasts for the last four weeks, and he'd been very generous with his lips, mustache and fingers. But you wanted him to fill you up. 

"Bradley," you whispered, trying to figure out if he'd fallen back to sleep again behind you, but when he grunted your first name, you moaned. He bucked against you even though you knew he was trying not to. "My doctor said it's okay now."

His rough thumb was stroking your nipple as he rasped, "I know, but maybe we shouldn't risk it. I can wait until after the baby is born."

An absolutely scandalized noise escaped you. "I love you for that, Daddy, I really do, but I don't think I can make it five more months."

"I'll go down on you," he said, letting his hand skim along your growing belly until he was cupping your pussy. "Happily." But you were pinned between his rock hard cock and his hand, and you knew exactly what you needed.

"I want your cock," you demanded. "It's perfectly safe for the baby now that my uterus is fixed up. And I want it."

Rarely did you ever tell him that you wanted something, and you almost never whined, but the combination of the two seemed to set him off a little bit. He was twitching and pulsing against your leg, and you felt him reach down to free himself from the confines of his underwear. Skin on skin was enough to make you whine his name a little louder. When you eased your leg up and back over his hip, you could feel the tip of him rubbing against your wet pussy.

"Take me just like this. Nice and slow from behind," you whispered, and his only response was a long string of obscenities as he pushed his cock just an inch or so inside you. 

"Baby," he ground out as his hand squeezed your hip. "Slow. Real slow. I don't want to hurt either of you."

You gasped, "You won't," as he slid himself deeper and deeper before eventually bottoming out with his hips pressed to your butt. "Oh god, you feel so good."

Bradley kept himself still, just like that, barely moving but filling you up regardless. "Shit," he whimpered next to your ear. "Fuck, it's been months." His voice was so rough, and his hot breath left goosebumps trailing down you back and arm. When you wiggled back against him, he grunted. "I'm not gonna last."

"I don't care," you told him, guiding his rough fingers to your clit and enjoying every sensation his body gave you. He smelled good, and he was warm and strong and big. Big everywhere. His lips found the spot right behind your ear, and he sucked gently. Your nipples were tender peaks, and your belly was just starting to show proof of your pregnancy. There was evidence of those days of rough sex from the summer all over your body, but right now he was gentler than ever.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered before taking your earlobe between his lips. His thrusts were smooth and languid, and you could feel every bit of him.

"No. You're perfect." That had his fingers working a little more frantically on your clit, but he kept the same pace with his thrusts. Slow and steady and never rough. 

But he got you there. "Baby," he whined, punching and plucking until you were sure your clit was a tight little ball of nerves against his fingertips. You started to squeeze around him, and he held still, more filthy cursing filling your ears as he spilled his cum inside you.

"Oh. Daddy," you moaned softly as you came in his embrace with his body pressed to your back. You couldn't stop yourself from bumping back against him as you fucked yourself gently along his cock, enjoying every little tremor and tremble.

"Tell me I didn't hurt you," he whispered, easing his wet fingers up along your belly, cupping where you imagined the baby was right now. "Please."

You turned to look at his earnest eyes over your shoulder and said, "You didn't hurt me."

"I love you, Princess." A series of soft knocks made you jump in his arms, and Bradley groaned as the knocking continued. He was still inside you as he said, "That's gotta be Noah."

You realized there was a door conjoining the next room with yours, and you could hear Noah's little voice calling out. "Daddy? Mommy? I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

With one more kiss to your shoulder, Bradley withdrew himself from your body, inspected his cock and then pulled his underwear back up. "Go make sure you're okay," he commanded as he stood. "I'll take care of Noah."

Carefully, still blissfully aware of the way that orgasm left your skin tingling, you made your way into the bathroom as Bradley's cum dribbled down your inner thighs. You cleaned yourself up, and there was no sign of blood at all. You took a quick shower, and you felt amazing. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom all wrapped up in your towel, you found your boys both dressed and ready to go and sitting on the edge of the unused bed.

"Mommy," Noah whined. "I'm hungry and I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

You bent and kissed his soft curls as you said, "Well take care of both of those things for you. Promise."

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

Disneyland was simultaneously the most wonderful and most anxiety inducing place Bradley had ever been. The look on Noah's face as the four of you explored the parks together made Bradley smile, but every time you started to look tired, he wasn't sure it was worth it. But then you'd smile at him, too. He'd give you anything you wanted.

"Are you okay?" he asked, collecting you in his arms as Nat rode the teacups with Noah for the third time in a row. "You sure I didn't hurt you this morning?"

A little smile curled along your glossy lips before you kissed him softly. Then you kissed him again and again. It was bad enough that you looked so much younger than him; he got a few raised eyebrows here and there. But then you always called him Daddy with absolutely no shame whatsoever. It always got under his skin and made him run a little hot, but now you had your belly pressed against him as you kissed your way back close to his ear.

"Daddy," you crooned. "You didn't hurt me one bit. You gave me exactly what I needed. Your big cock."

"Baby," he whispered, squeezing your hips in warning. "Don't get us kicked out of the happiest place on Earth."

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what would make it even happier?"

"Don't say it," he rasped, shaking his head as you looked up at him. "I'm begging."

You just smirked. "Sneaking off to that family bathroom..."

Bradley tipped his head back and groaned while you giggled. "You said it."

Finally having sex again in the hotel room this morning before Noah practically kicked down the door in search of breakfast seemed to make you extra clingy. Not that Bradley minded one bit. He didn't. He loved it. But you had been alone when you had to go to the emergency room last month, and he was still on edge about everything that happened when he was in Japan. 

When you started tugging on his arm, he shook his head again. "No. Not here. Only where I can be as gentle with you as possible."

Then you were in his arms again telling him how sweet he was, and Bradley was just a lost cause. 

"I'm tapping out," Nat announced as she and Noah walked over hand in hand. "That ride is okay the first two times, but after that, it's evil."

"I loved it!" Noah announced as Bradley picked him up. 

"Of course you did," he said, kissing his son's cheek. "What do you want to do now? Another ride? Get a snack?"

"Meet Mickey Mouse!"

Bradley groaned for an entirely different reason. The line to meet the characters was pretty long, but you'd insisted on buying something called an autograph book, so he said, "Sure, Bub. We can go meet the main mouse."

Bradley held hands with both you and Noah while Nat led the way, talking with her hands and bouncing like she was Tigger to make Noah giggle. Bradley was right, the line was long, but it was worth it. Noah didn't complain about how much time it was taking, but he did ask you to pick him up over and over again.

"Let me hold you," Nat offered, but Noah kept reaching for you instead. When Bradley told him he was too heavy, tears filled his eyes and his face scrunched up.

"Sweet Noah," you whispered, kissing his cheek and kind of cuddling up with him while he was in Bradley's arms. "Don't cry. I'm right here. I'm just not allowed to lift things like big, growing boys who love dinosaurs and coloring books, okay?" You wiped at his tears with your thumbs, and Bradley was once again mesmerized by you. "That's better," you told him. "I don't want you to cry right before we get to meet Mickey Mouse."

Noah sniffled and nodded, and you didn't move away from his as the line moved up. "You're amazing," Bradley whispered. "Mommy of the year."

"There he is!" Nat gasped, perhaps more excited than all of the kids in the line put together. "Mickey! And I'm not talking about Fanboy!"

Bradley chuckled as the Mouse beckoned them forward to take photos. 

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

"How about we ride something else?" Bradley asked, but you watched Noah tug him back toward It's a Small World. 

"This is my favorite!"

"Noah," he laughed, "you've said that about every single ride all day long."

"No, this one," Noah insisted.

"Just one more time?" you asked, also tugging on Bradley.

"We've been on it seven times in a row," he insisted, shaking his head.

"Six times," Nat replied, pushing him from behind. 

"Natasha, the song is going to kill me," he said, taking a few steps toward the line queue again. "I'll never be able to get it out of my head."

But the three of you won, of course. Because he was willing to do anything that you and Noah wanted. And that included riding a boat past legions of slightly creepy, singing, animatronic children. "You'll be fine," you insisted, rubbing his abs. "After this, we'll feed you dinner."

"You better," he mumbled, winking at you. "And I need more Mickey shaped snacks, too."

To your delight and Noah's, Bradley willingly rode It's a Small World three more times and sang the song nearly the whole time. "I'm going to annoy you with this forever," he whispered in your ear as the little boat sailed along. 

You looked up at him and said, "Please do. That means you'll be around forever."

His eyes widened in soft surprise. "I'm not going anywhere." You felt his thumb run across your engagement ring where he was holding your hand in his lap. "Just a couple more weeks and we'll be married."

The fact that he was taking care of most of the planning without showing any signs of stress was amazing to you. As the song played on repeat and the dancing animatronics spun around, you tapped your foot. "You really want to get married so soon?" you asked him. 

"Hell yes. I already told you I did."

"Even if it's just a backyard wedding?"

Bradley gave you all of his focus like you were the only thing in his world when he said, "All we really need is both of us and Noah for it to be perfect."

"Technically we also need Natasha," you added, and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We also need Natasha. But that's only because she got ordained online. Other than that, I don't really care about the details too much. I just want to see you in a wedding dress."

You bit your lip and moaned. "Nothing fits me great right now. And I feel like my belly is really going to pop out one day soon."

"I can't wait," he grunted, making you shiver at the tone of his voice. "Jesus, I hope your belly gets bigger in the next three weeks."

His lips found your neck, and this time you were the one who had to remind him that you were very much in the middle of Disneyland sharing a seat in the boat with Nat and Noah. But now you had a better idea of what kind of dress you should get; you'd been holding off, hoping to figure out how to get one that would still fit for the big day. 

"So you want to be able to see the bump in the wedding photos?"

"Princess," he grunted. "God, yes. But don't you dare make me hard on It's a Small World."

You were still laughing as the boat floated up to the exit and you climbed out.

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

"Stop," you and Nat whined in unison as Bradley started singing the Small World song again on the drive back to San Diego on Sunday. But he just smiled and finished, dodging away from your hand as you tried to cover his mouth from the passenger seat. This time, he saw you and Nat playing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to sit in the back with Noah. Your rock lost to her paper, so you were in the front with him. 

"This is your punishment for being mean," he said as Noah napped. "And I'm talking to both of you."

"I'm just happy that you loved Disneyland," you said over his singing. You were looking at wedding dresses on your phone and holding the selections up for Nat to look at. Bradley had to fight to keep his eyes on the road instead of the screen, but he honestly did want to be surprised. 

"Hey, what am I supposed to wear?" he asked, realizing that you'd seen him in most of his nicer clothes when he was leaving you at home with Noah to go on app dates. He'd have to buy something new, something just for you. Something to make the day special.

"Doesn't matter," Nat said followed by a low whistle as she held your phone. "Nobody will even notice you if your wife is wearing this dress. Holy shit."

Bradley glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Noah was still asleep. "It's that good?" he asked as you looked a little bashful next to him. "Buy it. Put it on your princess card."

"It has two-day shipping," Nat said. "If you don't like it, we can go out and look at some other options on Wednesday after work."

"I don't know..." you said, hesitating as you took your phone back and looked at whichever dress Nat thought was perfect. 

"Buy it, Baby, or I won't shut up for the next hour." Bradley cleared his throat and started singing, "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears. It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."

"Fine!" you said, scrambling with your phone as Nat covered her ears. "I'm buying it!"

Bradley smiled at the road before him and muttered, "Gotta love Disney."

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

If you have Princess wedding dress inspo (that will show off her little bump just like Bradley is hoping) please send it to me! I'm thinking we will end up with 62 parts for this story, which is absolutely wild to me. Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 59

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@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[gojomamashouse]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

[dontexpectmuch]

Jude with a mechanical engineering student, and she's working on f1 and is a good friend of the drivers and jude gets jealous and hard launches at a race? She works for redbull and is friends with the real Madrid guys, ty, God bless

jude is aware of how much attention he gets, no matter where he goes or whom he talks to. so many people shy away from talking to him due to all the eyes that were on him, yet he tries to stay positive and look at the bright side of the picture. as a rising star, it can be hard to meet someone that would willingly hide their relationship from the world, though when he got to know you, he felt like his prayers have had finally been answered.

it was the miami grand prix he had been invited to, ferrari have shown their interest about his appearance multiple times and when his other friends finally had the time to come along, he immediately went to the race and enjoyed his time there.

it was also the place where he met the cute engineering student that was walking out of the rivals garage, cute cap with the official team shirt on, baggy pants and a book in hand. he sneaked away from the group and followed you to the water fountain in the middle of the two garages, desperately trying to look cool yet uninterested.

so when you two fall into a conversation [slight argument] about the team and who would win the race, jude knew that he had to keep in touch with you, exactly what he did.

now, two years later, the two of you have been in a private and secret relationship, something both of you enjoyed at the beginning. the relationship blossomed quietly, only his most trusted friends knew about it, same with you. having an intelligent partner who works for one of the best sports team ever is something that jude is incredibly proud [and turned on] of, it’s like a match made in heaven. no one could disturb your little bubble of happiness and peace, and you would like to keep it that way as long as you can.

but these days, jude really wants to post about his relationship, just to mark his territory. just to let all of those sneaky, weird, [and attractive, fuck] drivers know that their ‘friend’ slash engineer was off the market.

especially now, when all you talk about is the garage and the people you work with.

“well, and then i told max to-“

you immediately stop talking when you hear jude let out an annoyed sigh, eyes wide as you look at your boyfriend.

the atmosphere around you is quite comfortable, you’d say, or at least it is to you. it has been quite some since you were able to sit down and have a nice, home cooked meal together. normally your schedules clash during the week, and weekends were spent outside the house, exploring new places and trying new things.

and normally, jude would love to hear you talk about your week, about the new stuff you learned that he definitely did not understand, but the sparkle inside your eyes made it all worth it. he didn’t know why he is so annoyed about you talking about the person you literally work with, more likely work for, but just hearing the name drop from your lips makes him want to go and shoot a ball at all of their heads.

“uh, you okay, my love?” your concern for him makes jude melt, and he wishes that he could just ignore this negative feeling growing inside of him, yet he simply can’t.

he shrugs, corners if his lips turning slightly down, “don’t know, why don’t you ask your little friend max. that’s what you always do, right?”

he knew that this was the moment he royally fucked up, no turning back now.

when you frown and look at him with those confused eyes, jude gets even more worked up than he should.

as if you don’t know what he is talking about.

“i beg your pardon, jude?”

you called him ‘jude’, meaning you were also getting worked up about the situation, well, his behavior.

he scoffs again, getting up from the table to put his empty plate away.

it was delicious, he would say, but right now he just wants to be pissed about this whole situation [that he started].

you copy his movements, actually quite sad that your usual chat time after eating is interrupted by this petty argument.

“hey, ‘m talkin’ to you.” your confusion does not seem to go away, no matter how you try to look at the situation. jude simply takes your plate from your hands and places it inside the dishwasher, before he dries his hands to continue the conversation [discussion].

“all ‘m sayin’ is that you love to be seen with your little racer buddies instead of with me.” he moves out of the kitchen back to the dining table to pick up the other dishes and the drinks.

“what the fuck?” is all you can say about his statement as you take the drinks from his hands to put them into the fridge, “what do you mean i ‘love to be seen’ with them? i work with those people and actually get along with them, just like you do with your teammates.”

the tension [not the hot one] between you rises by the second and jude is once again walking around the apartment, “that’s not the same.”

“the fuck you mean it’s not the same? it literally is?”

a few minutes ago jude would have [maybe, probably not] admitted that he might have gone too far with what he had said to you, but now seeing you getting so offensive about something that bothers him, he no longer feels like he should back off. instead he wants to win this, he wants you to understand that he is right and that you being seen with others could be, no it is, disrespectful to your relationship.

“you are my girlfriend, why would you want to be seen with other guys?!” raising his voice was something he rarely did whenever you guys argued. he preferred to keep calm in order to avoid hurting you in any way. but right now, his voice was getting louder with each argument he made, heating up the whole conversation even more.

you genuinely did not understand why he would come up with this argument all of a sudden, it is not the first time that you are seen at max’ side at races or maybe even next to others. you had a healthy relationship with most drivers and pleasant conversations with them in between races and breaks. everyone knew that you are the intern who will soon work for the redbull racing team, and jude actually was the one to be the proudest of you. it is literally how and where you guys met.

“the reason why i am seen with them is because, one; i work with them. we have to talk a lot because of the development of the car and i still have to learn a lot from the other engineers. two, i get along with them, you know, like normal co workers do, because, fuck, why not? you know all of this.” you feel your throat straining with how much and how loud you are talking, but the rage inside of you somehow numbs the pain.

“so people thinking that you are dating one of them also comes with the job, yeah?”

jude now stands tall in front if you, nostrils flared and eyes wide. he isn’t mad at you entirely, he knows it, but more like at the situation and the people that dare to pair you with someone that is not him.

but you cannot know that he isn’t mad at you, because in your eyes it seems like he is blaming you for the stuff the media puts into the news. your heart beats faster than ever and this whole situation makes your head spin.

“i don’t control what the media says? like, it’s not in my hands? to them i am a single woman who is successfully working for a motorsport team, rumors are bound to happen?”

“well, there is always some truth behind rumors, right?”

something inside you snapped, “what about you, huh?!”

jude almost flinched when you suddenly raised your voice at him, a sight he has never seen before.

“you also get paired up with a new woman every fucking day, jude. do you see me complain about it? no! because i trust you.” right now, you really wished to cry. was it that hard to understand?

the comfortable atmosphere from a few minutes ago vanished entirely, coldness and a bitter feeling on your tongue seem to have replaced it. during the two years you and jude havr spent together, you never had such an argument to this extent.

“but i am never pictured next to those people! i never even talked to them ever in my life!”

suddenly still, your eyes widened, mouth dry as you speak up, “are you accusing me of cheating on you?”

silent.

jude looks at you with his mouth open, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

“no, never…” the stark contrast between your voices now compared to just a second ago is almost cinematic, as if you had practiced this scene multiple times already. silently looking at one another, eyes dancing around the others faces in order to understand what just had happened.

“do you also think that way when i talk to aurelien and eduardo?” your voice breaks as you speak up, a defeated feeling replaces the rage inside, “do you actually think like this of me?”

judes shoulders sack down as he listens to you speak, this is absolutely not something he ever thought of, nor would he ever dare to accuse you of such thing.

he wants to speak up, yet you quickly cut him off, “just for your information, to the media and the rest to the world, we both are single individuals who don’t even know each other. and all the guys on the grid know that i am a taken person, they would never do such thing.”

you scoff as you shake your head, turning around to go to the front door.

jude panics as he watches your fast steps, immediately following you, “what- uh, where are you going?”

you quickly put on your shoes and put your bag on your shoulders, not in the mood to continue any of this, “wanna go home.”

“but this is home-“

your head snaps to his direction, eyes cold, “apparently not. at least not now.”

jude closes his hand around your wirst, not wanting you to go away when the situation between you is so heated.

“let’s find a solution, babe, c’mon.” he begs, voice husky and desperate. he did not know that it would escalate like this, but now he regrets to even bring up this topic.

you sigh, all of this arguing took a toll on you and now you want to do nothing more but lay in your bed and not to think of anything anymore.

inhaling deeply, you look at jude, his big brown eyes never left yours anyway, and he truly does look like he wants to fix this, which you do too.

“listen,” you begin, taking one last deep breath, “you cannot accuse me of such thing and then expect me to do nothing about it-“

“i don’t want you to do anything, just, let’s stop arguing.”

scoffing, you tighten the grip on your bag, “you started all if this because apparently, you do not trust me, jude.”

“it’s babe-“

“it’s jude right now, don’t test me.” you threaten him, not in the mood for his little jokes.

shaking your head, an almost mocking laugh leaves your lips, “we decided to keep our relationship a secret. you, by the way, wanted to do it this way the most. i would have launched our relationship ages ago, because i trust you and i trust our bond. y’know, communicating and stuff.”

judes voice cracks slightly as he speaks up, deep sigh leaving his body as he tries to hold your hand, a sign that he is getting desperate, “i trust you, too, babe. ‘t’s just- i don’t know, like, rumors and shit and i don’t want you to have reporters on your neck at all times, y’know.”

you frown at his words, “but that does not explain why you literally sprung at me for mentioning max, or the others. when we first started dating, i already knew what would come along with being with you, and i would take it all, jude, everything.”

jude smiles at your words, now looking down at your hands, so you continue, “all those annoying rumors about me, people following me and what not, i genuinely will take it all, because i love you. not max, not lando nor charles or whomever you’re jealous of.”

“i ain’t jealous.” he rolls his eyes, slowly stepping closer to you.

“don’t lie to me, belli.” you smirk at him.

jude chuckles, his thumb dancing across your knuckles help you to be at ease.

“soo.”

“sooo?” you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue.

“do we just post a picture together? or like, do a sex tap-“

“shut it.” you pinch his waist, chuckling as he squirms away from your touch, “we will do a, hm, maybe a soft launch? yeah, something like that.”

jude groans, throwing his head back, “that takes way too long.”

“well,” you shrug, “ that’s what you get for literally yelling at me for doing my job.”

“and i’m sorry, love.” judes hand now caresses your cheek softly, head tilted down as his bog brown eyes apologetically look at yours, “next time, i will calmly ask you about something that bothers me, okay?”

“okay.” you smile at him, leaning into his touch.

“you have a race this weekend, no?”

“yeah, in belgium this time, why?”

“just because.”

-

“still trouble in paradise?” you hear landos [annoying] kind voice from behind you, making you draw your eyebrows together.

turning around, you tilt your head in question, “wait, how do you know?”

lando innocently smiles at you, shrugging his shoulders, “max and i are somewhat besties, y’know.”

“max.” you grumble, already planning on how to get your revenge from him.

“so? everything okay now?” lando questions again, this time in a slightly more serious manner than before.

“it’s always okay between us, just rocky at times.” you tell him, not stopping yourself from smiling when you think of your boyfriend.

lando nods his head at something behind you, “seems like goal-machine over there still wants to rip off my head, though.”

“goal-machine-?” you turn around and are immediately met with the sight of jude leaning against some tires in the garage.

he looks good, you must admit. sunglasses on too of his nose, oversized shirt with the first few buttons undone, night dress pants and matching shoes, a real snack.

a snack that should not be here, or well, a snack you did not know that would be here. so, you bid your goodbyes to lando and walk closer to jude, coming to halt a fee steps in front of him.

“eh, hi?” you greet him, confused but happy.

he smiles down at you, taking off his glasses to get a better look at you, “hey there, sexy lady.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “not now, i am working, y’know.”

“chatting it up with little lad over there is quite some work, huh?” jude points at lando with his head, who still, you don’t know why, is standing inside the redbull garage, subtly [nit really] glancing at your direction every now and then.

“lando just likes to annoy me, nothing more.” you explain, smiling as you watch jude stand up straight.

“well, let’s annoy him back.” he smirks down at you.

“how-“

jude cuts you off by placing his soft lips on top of yours as his muscular arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. at first you feel like resisting, but the more he deepened the kiss, the more you could not get enough of it. tilting your head to gain better control, you feel up his chest before you place your hands at the back of his next, enjoying this public display of affection more than ever. maybe because it is the first time you’ve ever done something like this in a place like the garage-

you immediately push jude away, eyes wide open, “jude! there are cameras everywhere!”

he just smiles down at you, that little tease, before taking your hand into his, “you wanted to go public anyway.”

“i wanted a soft launch, though! i always wanted to soft launch a relationship.” you whine, moving closer to out your forehead against his chest in defeat.

“you can still soft launch it, love.”

you shake your head, still against his chest while you feel his hand move up and down your back, “no, let me grieve in peace, please.”

“love you too, babe.”

“shut it, you ruined my dreams.”

“you’re welcome.”

———————————————————————

enjoy 🥰

[llamagoddessofficial]

hello llama

i have been thinking and headcanoning about vampire bad sanses lately, so i was curious if you have any thoughts about or interest in vampires of the nightmare and crew variety? (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

"do i have interest in vampires", he asks

ok, i will share my extensive vampire brainrot. but in return..... you have to write that vampire fic.... oooOOooO look into my eyes you know you want to write it ooOoOooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

I very much like the idea of Nightmare's castle being Castlevania-style. Lots of spooky architecture, lots of ancient magical passages that haven't been seen in centuries.

Horror can be summed up in one word. Bloodlust. There's a constant hunger inside him he can't ever seem to fill, driving him almost to the point of madness. He is more beast than man. When he smells or tastes blood, he loses control of himself, becoming little more than a starving wild animal - his capability for slaughter is limited only by his appetite. So unless Nightmare requires it, he generally abstains from blood. He doesn't like losing himself so entirely.

Something about you makes him forget his hunger. Is it your voice? Your scent? He has no idea, but oh, it feels good to feel whole. When you're around it's as if he'll never be hungry again... he follows you like a dog, grinning intensely every time you look at him. This is one hound that can't be shaken.

Despite his 'condition', he finds a lot of solace in cooking. Nothing will give him the same drug-like rush as blood but human food is nonetheless warm and filling and distracts him momentarily from the emptiness. He enjoys the process of making it, too, doing something with his hands. Let him cook for you, please? Watching you eat brings him vicarious joy.

Dust's backstory is one of legend. Something resembling a story can be spun from the loose whispers. A vampire invaded his peaceful isolated village hundreds of years ago, intending to turn the helpless populace into enslaved vampires. Dust, the first to be bitten, turned and slaughtered them all himself - and despite being a vampire for barely a week, the equivalent of a stumbling newborn, he killed the centuries-old invading vampire in single combat.

No one's quite sure why he's joined Nightmare. Perhaps Nightmare was keen to take this uniquely violent creature under his wing, and Dust just didn't really care where the wind took him. Or perhaps he has some other motive, hidden beneath that silent face. Who knows.

... Dust might be quiet, but it's obvious he's fixated on you. Which is a big deal. This is a creature who hasn't mustered a second thought for anything but blood for decades; but somehow, you've excited him. He's very clearly interested in you, silently watching your every move, listening intently to every word you say. Too bad he's not much for conversation.

Killer's backstory, on the other hand, is shrouded entirely in mystery. No one knows where he came from, who he is, or what he's done. He simply appeared one day - right within the coveted inner circle of Nightmare himself. He's the Night King's most trusted weapon, and the closest thing he has to a friend.

Killer seems very clear about what he wants. He thinks you're adorable, and he says you'd make such a pretty vampire. He talks (at length) about how much he wants to bite you, and how if it were up to him you'd already be one of them. A lot of his flirting involves calling you things like sweet treat and honeyblood. However... despite all the taunting, all the talk of seeing you as food, Killer is the one in the castle who treats you with the most respect. The others seem to see you as an object, a cute toy, something to squish and own. Killer talks to you like you're a real person. You can't help but like him for it.

Nightmare's inferiority complex has driven him to declare himself the king of the vampires. No one contests - Nightmare is royalty by blood, and vampires place a lot of emphasis on blood. But even if he wasn't, Nightmare frequently murders those who won't bend the knee. Plenty of powerful vampires have fallen embarrassingly fast at his hand.

... Nightmare's goal is to make you agree to be his spouse. A pretty little human partner would be excellent for his image. It would not only demonstrate his incredible self control as such an ancient vampire (not to mention his control over his warriors), but it would also show that his power is so great he doesn't need to strike a political marriage with another powerful vampire. It might also convince some of the pesky rebellious human groups to settle down.

His pride means that he won't force you. Not yet, at least. He likes to think he can seduce you. He's a royal vampire, after all, and you're just a simple human - isn't it only a matter of time?

... But it seems like, as time goes on... he's the one falling.

[janeyseymour]

Share Your Address

based on Ben Platt's "Share Your Address", and my rendition of the song is attached! Please enjoy!

Summary: Melissa is intoxicating. It might be too soon, but you want everything that has to do with her.

WC: 5k

You had never planned on meeting Melissa Schemmenti, much less falling for her. But just like that, she waltzed her way into your life just a month ago at the bar. As you’ve learned, she’s also someone who almost never lets her guard down. The same would go for you- always guarded and hesitant to let anybody into your life. It’s done you wrong before. For someone who always had your walls up around you, you fell hard for that redhead. You’re not quite sure you could pin any one thing that made you fall for her as hard as you did, and you’re only continuing to fall. There’s just something about her that’s so intoxicating. Maybe it’s her sweet and somehow simultaneously musty perfume, or the way that her shiny red hair always perfectly frames her face. It might be the way that she has that sparkling Hollywood smile without even trying, or the fact that she is quite literally everything that you’ve always dreamed of- hardheaded, not afraid to speak her mind- she’s always got that hint of sarcasm and fire to her. Or maybe it’s just that she’s Melissa, and she has an absolutely addictive personality. Whatever it is about the second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, you can’t get her out of your head. 

Darling you might think it’s too soon, but I can’t get you out of my head now. Picturing myself in your room, and I wanna be with you ’til I’m dead now. 

It’s been a month, and in that month, you and Melissa have been practically inseparable. After work, you’re with her and cooking dinner or treating her to a nice night out on the town. You end up in her bed quite a few times. On Saturdays, the two of you will go out to the club and relieve what you truly believe might’ve been the highlight of your life- meeting her. On Sundays, you soak in the peace and quiet, taking every breath and mentally preparing yourselves for the next week.

And if you aren’t together, you’re texting. You tease Melissa about the fact that she should probably be teaching her students, but she dismisses your concern and promises you that they’re working on an independent project- they’ll get her attention if they need her.

The truth is, you just can’t get the redheaded second grade teacher out of your head- you’re falling for her, and you’re falling for her fast and hard. It might be too quick to judge, but there’s something special about her. Just like when you were younger and more naive, you picture yourself in her room. You daydream about the things you would do to her if you were with her at the moment. And when your imagination becomes a bit over the top, you have to leave your cubicle and take a few laps around the building to cool down those rather steamy thoughts you’re having. But then, of course, she texts you again- and once again, you feel like you’re on fire.

You want Melissa Schemmenti until you are no longer on this earth. If you spent your last few breathing moments with her, you’re fairly certain it would be worth it- a life well lived.

I want your friends to be my friends. I’ll make you breakfast in your bed. I want it all with you. And if I’m coming on too strong, it’s ‘cause I’ve waited far too long for someone just like you.

It’s only been a month, but here you are with Melissa, and you’re making breakfast that the two of you are planning to enjoy in bed. Now, usually she would never condone that- it took her long enough to begin eating on her plastic covered couch (and you’ve somehow managed to convince her to take it off… sex on a couch covered in plastic is not something you ever wish to experience again). But she’s willing to make an exception for you; you seem to be the exception to everything she ever thought she knew in life.

“You’re so sexy when you cook in my clothes,” Melissa wraps her arms around your waist and kisses the slope of your neck. Her right hand swiftly trails down your body to grab your ass. “God.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckle quietly. “I’m sure you look way hotter in it.”

You feel her rather than hear her refute that claim as she shakes her head into your back.

The two of you settle on her bed with a wonderful spread of breakfast and coffee. Somehow, she’s managed to fix your cup of coffee to perfection. Of course she knows how you prefer your coffee- it’s one of the first things she learned about you.

It’s a warm, still somewhat sleepy haze that you’re in when her phone begins to ring. She glances at the caller ID and sighs before flipping her phone over on the nightstand. You had just so happened to catch a look at it, and you know her work wife won’t be too thrilled if she doesn’t answer.

“You can answer it,” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “It’s okay, hun.”

The redhead quirks her lips to the side but relents, although she makes it quite clear to you that she’s not appreciating the fact that your little bubble has been burst. She does pick up the phone though.

“What, Barb? It’s nine in the morning.”

“Well, good morning to you too, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher quips. “I was just calling to see if we were still good for lunch today?”

Green eyes look over to you. You nod with a smile before mouthing, ‘Hang out with Barb. It’s okay.’

“We are,” the redhead grumbles. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“Oh, you were still asleep! I’m sorry; I just figured you would already be up,” Barbara apologizes.

“I’ll see you at noon,” the redhead next to you sighs out. “Bye.”

Melissa hangs up the phone before placing her phone back down. She turns to you. “I forgot about lunch with Barb,” she admits quietly, knowing that the two of you had made plans to walk around the city today.

“It’s fine, hun,” you promise her. “You deserve to go have fun with her. Although…” you trail off as you debate whether you want to voice your thoughts or not.

“What?”

“I would love to meet her, and the others in your group,” you tell her softly. “I- I know it’s soon, but I have a feeling this could be something, and I would love to be able to meet them.”

The redhead gives you a warm smile- not what you had expected from her. “I think that would be nice. How would you feel about joining me an’ Barb for lunch today?” 

“Really?” you ask softly. “You’re up for that? I was- I was nervous that I was coming on too strong.”

Melissa pulls you in for a soft, sweet kiss. “What you feel for me, I feel for you. An’ I don’t know why, but I’m absolutely crazy about you.”

“Good,” you sigh with relief. “I’m sorry if I come off as too strong, but I- I’ve waited far too long for someone like you to come into my life.”

“A hot mess?” the redhead teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone who is as beautiful and as sexy as you while having a quick and brilliant mind.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You do. Breakfast is forgotten until after you shut her up.

And so you join your… well, she does introduce you to her work wife as her girlfriend- you join your girlfriend for lunch. And Barbara is nothing but elegant and kind to you, just as Melissa said she would be- she ensures that you’re always a part of the conversation while Melissa fills in the missing pieces of their stories and conversation for you. 

And come a week later, on a Friday, you’re able to leave your own place of employment an hour early to meet your girlfriend at her coworkers’ favorite bar for happy hour.

The Abbott crew welcomes you with open arms, just as Melissa had told you they would.

I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address. 

It’s been two months now that you’ve been seeing Melissa. And you can only find yourself falling for her more and more. It’s not what you had expected in the slightest when you first met her at the bar. In all honesty, you were expecting a one night stand at best, not to still be here with this beautiful woman two months later and officially dating.

You spend more time in Melissa’s house than your own apartment at this point- the redhead’s house feels more like home to you than your apartment ever has. You have a drawer reserved for you, a toothbrush for the nights that you spend with her, and you’ve made a little space for yourself on the nightstand on what you think of as your side of the bed.

The second grade teacher is out and grocery shopping by the time you wake up on this lazy Saturday. You know she’s already out, because there’s an index card propped up on her pillow that tells you exactly where she is, when she expects to be back, and it’s signed with a heart.

You’re exhausted from this week. but you know that you should probably get out of bed for the day. By the time you make your way down the steps, the aroma of the coffee that your girlfriend had made has you practically running for the pot.

Once you’ve finished your coffee, you glance around the living room, and there are various articles of both of your clothes from last night’s escapades. Your cheeks flush at the mere thought of what had taken place last night, and a dopey smile washes over your face.

With a sigh, you begin to pick up both yours and Melissa’s clothes, following the trail of pants, shirts, and undergarments back into the bedroom. You can’t help but chuckle at how desperate the two of you were after you got back from the bar. You toss them into her laundry basket and bring it down the steps with you on your hip. As you’re emptying the things into the washing machine, you see a glimmer of something hiding behind the big piece of metal. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you look. It’s a club- of course it is. Leave it to your girlfriend to think about needing a weapon if she was ever doing her laundry. You roll your eyes in good nature before depositing detergent into the machine and turning it on. 

As you make your way back up into the living room, you can’t help but notice the abundance of pictures that the redhead has in her house, all in beautiful frames. There’s something about it that makes you want to be in her photographs. You’re sure you’ll get there someday, maybe when you share an address with her.

You’ve just settled onto the couch when you hear Melissa fiddling with the front door. In an instant, you’re back on your feet and letting her in before heading out and managing to juggle the last few bags from her shopping trip.

“Thank you,” your girlfriend smiles at you when you return. She’s already unpacking the various bags when something catches your eye. It’s a picture frame that she just bought.

“That’s pretty,” you comment quietly. “Whose picture is going in there?”

Melissa smiles and then pulls out an envelope. “Ours.” 

Your heart swells in your chest. “I- I know it’s a bit soon to be saying this, and I don’t expect you to say it back, but: I love you.”

You’re immediately pulled into a warm kiss. “I love you too,” she murmurs as she rests her forehead against yours.

I just wanna stare at your face, and spend quality time with your mother. We can over drink at your favorite place, and we can waste the whole next day to recover.

You meet the Schemmenti family about six weeks into dating. And Melissa’s mother is an absolute delight. It’s clear as day who your girlfriend takes after in both looks and personality. Mathilde, but she insists you call her Tillie, is a lively woman with a bright personality and a tendency to be sarcastic and fiery. And while she has that bite to her, much like your girlfriend, she has a softer and warmer side that she shows you once she sees how in love you are with her daughter- you rarely take your eyes off of that bright and happy face now that she’s in the comfort of her mother’s home. She’s- she’ stunning; there’s no other way to put it.

Melissa is in the bathroom when Tillie finally asks you, “Why my Melly?” 

“I should’ve known you would ask that,” you chuckle as you sip your wine. “She’s home. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s funny,” the older woman breathes out. “Melly said the same about you.”

From that day on, you and Tillie spend a lot of time together. From Sunday dinners with the Schemmenti family, to a nice lunch if you have a day off, you find that you and your girlfriend’s mother get along quite well. It doesn’t take long for her to quietly confide in you that Melissa is head over heels in love with you- something that she’s never seen before, even with her ex-husband. 

The act of over drinking at her favorite place takes often more than you’d really care to admit. But there’s one night where the two of you end up absolutely obliterated, and you truly have to take all of Saturday to recover from your wicked hangovers.

It all started when Jacob suggested that the Abbott crew go out for a happy hour on a Friday. And for some reason, Barbara agrees and convinces your girlfriend to tag along. Because the two of you were supposed to go out tonight together, she begs you to join the school crew for a few drinks.

A few drinks turns into a crazy night. It starts out tame enough, a beer or two. But then Ava shows up, claims that the place that you’re at is far too boring, and she escorts all of you to a skanky dive bar- the one that the two of you met in actually.

“This is our bar,” your girlfriend nudges you. “Who woulda thought that Ava would like a place like this.”

“The stickier the bar, the better,” the principal tells her, having heard the redhead’s comment.

You don’t even remember how you got back to Melissa’s house. The last thing you can somewhat string together is dancing with your girlfriend and giggling as Barbara brought over another round of shots for your group. That one did you in.

You wake with a groan. God, your head is pounding. And if you’re feeling this way, you don’t even want to guess how Melissa is feeling.

Your stomach turns, and you bolt for the bathroom. Before you know it, your girlfriend is right there with you, emptying the contents of her stomach into the trashcan beside you.

“Oh my god,” you groan out as you flush the toilet. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Melissa whines as she closes up the bag and reaches for the mouthwash. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Neither am I,” you grumble as you reach for the bottle once she’s finished with it. 

With a few grunts, you manage to pick yourself up off the floor before assisting your girlfriend up too. The two of you just barely make it back to bed before your hand dives into the nightstand on your side and you pull out the Advil. You shake a few pills into your hand before offering Melissa the bottle. She follows suit, and then you’re swallowing them with the little bit of water that still remains in your water bottle.

You spend most of the day asleep, and it takes you until approximately four in the afternoon to even slightly feel like a human. Your girlfriend drags you to the couch before she sluggishly makes her way into the kitchen. She comes back with a plate full of food.

“Lis, if I eat now, I will hurl again.”

“Just eat, she grumbles as she takes a bite of a cracker. “Soak up the booze with carbs.”

“I’m never drinking again,” you grumble as you force yourself to eat a few pieces of toast.

“Neither am I,” Melissa promises herself.

Of course, the next weekend, you’re out at the bars again. 

I wanna watch you while you sleep. I know I might sound like a creep, but I can’t help myself. And it’s so easy to forget that we’ve barely even met, but I want no one else. 

It’s one of those rare days where you wake up before Melissa on a Saturday morning. Her soft snores fill the room, her hair is splayed out underneath of her, and there’s a hint of a smile dancing on her lips as she dreams. You only hope that she’s dreaming of you.

You know it might come off as a little creepy, maybe odd, but you find yourself just studying her face as you lay there with her. She’s like an angel- your redheaded, fiery, angel. Her eyes open slowly, and she blearily blinks away the sleep. Warm, green eyes find yours.

“Good morning,” you whisper as you kiss her nose.

She giggles just slightly before pulling herself closer to you. “It is a good morning when I wake up with you.”

You just continue to hold her close to you and drink in the wonderfully delicious haze of this sleepy morning.

In that moment, you realize that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. In bed with your beautiful girlfriend- the one, you think quietly to yourself. You know that the two of you haven’t been together nearly long enough to fully know if she’s the one you want to be with for the rest of your life. They say that if a couple stays together for more than two years, they’ve hashed it all out, and that seems to be the threshold that a lot of couples seem to struggle to make it to, but there’s a gut feeling that you have about her. You have a feeling that you’ll make it to that two year mark, and then a long while after that if you’re lucky.

I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address. 

It’s a Thursday that you’re supposed to go to your girlfriend’s house for dinner when she calls you while you’re clocking out of work.

“Hey, babe,” you answer with a smile.

“Hey.” You can tell immediately that Melissa is not in a good mood. “So, I know we’re supposed to have dinner tonight at my house.”

“But?” you prompt quietly, and you can’t quite hide the sadness in your voice.

“One of my kiddos, Sharmia, her mom is gonna be late picking her up. By like… three hours- won’t get back into the city until six at the earliest, and that’s if she doesn’t hit any traffic.”

“Oh,” you sigh softly. “Hey, that’s okay. I know you want to be there for her, and she’s more important.”

“Thank you for understanding,” your girlfriend says quietly into the phone. “I knew you would.”

“Of course I do,” you tell her. “What if I stopped by the school and brought dinner for all of us? And then I can just come over with you once she’s picked up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” the redhead says, although she’s hoping you insist. Today has been rough enough as it is, and now she’s stuck in the school for longer than she’d like to be.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” you promise. “I can’t say that Wawa's will be nearly as good as what we were going to cook up tonight, but… it’s something.”

“Thank you.”

You pull up to the school just a little while later with hoagies and drinks in hand and call to let her know you’re at Abbott.

Only about thirty seconds later is your girlfriend and her student pushing open the door for you to enter.

Sharmia’s mother ends up coming to the school at 6:30, apologizing profusely for keeping the two of you at the school and waiting for so long. Melissa just waves her off, telling her she would do it if it meant Sharmia was safe.

They leave, and then you and your girlfriend are walking out of the school hand in hand. You pull up to her house in record timing.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t just let yourself in,” Melissa tells you as she unlocks the front door and pushes it open.

“Hey,” you get her attention quietly with a squeeze to her hand. “It’s no big deal. I still got to spend time with you.”

“Yeah,” Melissa sighs. “But I’m sure you would’ve rather been able to come here and relax with a glass of wine instead of sitting in Abbott with me eating Wawa.”

“You know I’m a slut for a good Wawa hoagie,” you joke. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Still,” your girlfriend sighs as she drops to the couch. She kicks off her shoes. “Jesus, I’m exhausted.”

You hum your agreement. 

It’s an early night for the two of you, in bed and asleep by nine. Her chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, your arms keeping her against you to keep warm.

And come Saturday, the two of you are doing your rounds of shopping. She stops in front of the key making machine and inserts her key.

“What are you doing?” you furrow a brow.

Melissa smiles at you. “I’m making you a key… that way if I have another late night or you need something and I’m not there, you can just let yourself in.”

Slowly, your things make their way to Melissa’s house, and it’s fair to say that you practically live with her. You do still have your apartment though, in case something goes awry between the two of you and you need a place. 

But your clothes intermingle with hers, you picking up her clothes and tossing them into the laundry with your own. 

It warms your heart to know that there isn’t much your girlfriend hides form you at this point. You know where most of her weapons scattered around the house are- you always discover them with a chuckle. 

More pictures of the two of you begin to litter the flat surfaces in the house, and you’re included in a few family photos with the entire Schemmenti clan. There’s even a picture of the Abbott clan with you in it.

The longer that you stay with Melissa, the more you become fairly certain that you truly will end up with her in your life forever, and this house will become yours too.

I wanna be your emergency contact. You can put me down ‘cause you know I know you best (I know you best). It doesn’t matter where I go without you I’ll never be home. I wanna share your address.

“Do you really have to go?” you ask your girlfriend after she tells you about the upcoming PECSA conference.

“I do,” Melissa sighs softly. “But it’s only for a weekend, and I’ll be fine. Other than that one PECSA weekend, I’ve been fine.”

“What happened at this one weekend?” you ask with an amused smirk.

The redhead’s cheeks tint pink. “I may have broken my wrist after I took a tumble.”

“Melissa!”

“It was a couple years ago, and I’m fine.”

“Mel, if something like that happens again,” you take her hand gently in yours.

“You’ll be my first call,” she promises. “Well, after Barb if she ain’t with me.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Just please… try not to break another bone, especially if I’m not already with you.”

“Trust me,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “I’m really going to try to not break another bone. That shit hurt like a bitch.”

She pulls out her phone, and after a few taps, you’re listed as her emergency contact on her phone. “See? You’ll be the first person to be called if I can’t call myself.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you fold your arms with a loving smile.

Melissa shrugs. “Yeah, and you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

When PECSA weekend rolls around, you hate how alone you feel. You attempt to keep yourself busy, but it’s weird not being with your girlfriend. She’s constantly texting you about all of the fun things that she’s doing though, and it makes you happy to know she’s having a good time. Even though she told you that you were more than welcome to stay at her house over the weekend, and you do, it doesn’t feel like home the way it does when she’s with you. Home isn’t her house, you realize with a soft sigh. Home is wherever she. When she doesn’t end up calling you because she broke her wrist again, you sigh a breath of relief. And as soon as she walks through that front door and pulls you into a tight hug, you feel the energy in the room shift. You’re home again. 

I wanna be your emergency contact. You can put me down ‘cause you know I know you best (I know you best). It doesn’t matter where I go without you I’ll never be home. I wanna share your address.

You’re sitting at work when you get a phone call from your girlfriend. That’s odd- she should be standing outside at recess duty, not calling you.

“Hello?” you answer, voice laced with concern.

“Hun,” Melissa’s voice sounds a bit panicked. “I- I took a fall out on the recess yard.”

“Shit, are you okay?” you ask, although it’s clear from her tone alone that she isn’t.

“N-no,” she stutters out. “Barb’s gettin’ ready to take me to the ER now, but I- I wanted to let you know.”

“Shit,” you mutter as you close your laptop and begin to gather your things. “What hospital?”

“Jefferson,” she gasps out. “I- I definitely broke my ankle, hun.”

“Okay,” you sigh into the phone. “Okay, hold tight, babe. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” she whispers out.

“I love you,” you tell her before hanging up. You march yourself down to your boss’s office and let him know you’re heading out- family emergency. He just nods, and that’s all you need to sprint out of the office and out to your car.

When you get to the hospital, Barbara heads in your direction. “She broke it. They have her pretty drugged up right now, just a warning.”

You just give her a tight lipped nod before making your way into the room they have Melissa in.

“I told ya I’d call if I ever got hurt,” the redhead smirks, although her words are quite slurred.

You roll your eyes and make your way over to her, kissing her softly. “What the hell were you doing that you broke your ankle?”

“Janine challenged me to a monkey bar race,” your girlfriend tells you. “Hey, have I ever told you how beautiful you are, mi amore?”

“Idiot,” you grumble, but there’s a smile on your face. “You can be so stupid.”

“Yeah,” Melissa grins dopily. “Stupid in love with you.”

I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address. 

It’s only a year into dating that Melissa asks you to move in with her officially.

“Really?” you ask her.

Your girlfriend gives you a look that tells you she’s being serious, and you’re ridiculous for even questioning it. “Hun, you practically live here as it is. You have a key, you’re rarely ever at your apartment anymore, all of your stuff is here. I hav nothing to hide from you, your picture is all over this house. Why don’t we just…spare you the rent and share an address?”

“You don’t think it’s too soon? Too fast?” you ask her. You know that the two of you have thrown caution to the wind throughout most of this relationship, but still- moving in together officially is a big step.

She shakes her head. “If I thought we were moving too fast, do you think I would’ve asked you to move in?”

“If you’re serious, then yes. I’d love to actually move in with you.”

“Can I ask you one more question?” your girlfriend asks.

“Shoot.”

“So if we’re sharing an address, do you want to share a last name too?” Melissa drops to her knee. 

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