#i should probably proofread this! oops!

[heavenbarnes]

Do not go gentle

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: illusions to reader suffering "some" attack earlier, nightmares, reader and hotch are goofy idiots, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, unprotected pinv sex, dirty talk, pulling out, splash the back, mentions of m!masturbation, swearing, blasphemy, hotch has a size kink if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k

Can you believe it? I've finally posted Hotch smut? I recently picked CM back up again and turns out he's still irresistible. Enjoy this, I did.

You'd only been back a week, after having two off, and Hotch already wanted to see you in his office.

This normally wasn't a cause for concern, usually you actually liked seeing Hotch in his office. Usually because it was for praise, he'd remark good work you'd done or feed you back something good he'd heard about you from another department.

It was also in that low, calm voice and he'd always have a hint of a smile working it's way to the surface.

But this time it'd be different.

You'd been off for two weeks and everyone was worried it wasn't enough. You'd been, quite literally, through hell and back and nobody wanted to push you too hard to get back into the field.

But you'd reassured Strauss, reassured everyone, that this was the best thing for you. You'd been going stir crazy on your couch in your little apartment, watching everything the TV had on offer.

You needed to get back into things, you needed to get back to helping people.

So you made the slow ascent up to Hotch's office and quietly knocked on the door, feeling it slowly swing open against your hand. He looked up from his desk, eyes connecting with yours and his brow raising slightly.

"You wanted to see me, sir?

He waved you in with his hand, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, doing your best to relax back into things and not let him know how nervous this had made you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

You smiled, only gently with your gaze picking out flaws in the carpet of Hotch’s office. Nodding slightly, you lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

“Good, actually,” That was honest but you could tell he was a little hesitant to accept it. “I’m glad to be back with everyone and making some difference.”

“And how are you sleeping?” Clear and level headed as ever.

You hesitated, it was only a second but there was no getting past him. You knew you had to be honest now.

“Not well, that's only when I finally get to sleep, and when I do I’m right back there again.”

Hotch’s expression was as hard to read as ever but you could see a hint of sympathy? Sadness? Concern?

“And are you seeing a therapist?”

“I am! She’s great, she says the best way through it is to keep living until I have enough good memories to replace those ones.”

You thought there may have been a hint of a smile on his face but it was gone as quick as you saw it.

“If there is anything I can do to help you, just ask- or call.”

You gave him a smile, an earnest one and you nodded as you spoke. “I will, thank you, Sir.”

That went better than you expected. He didn't want to recall you back to the office for desk work, he was just checking in. You found yourself back to feeling how you normally did when you left his office.

Not really wanting to go.

-

Your apartment was dead quiet, you couldn't even hear the usual hum of your fridge as you left the bathroom. Your home was darker than you were used to, the moonlight struggling to get through the windows.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you felt the unmistakable air of company. Something was telling you that you weren't alone in the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your fingers reached for the light switch.

So close, you were so close when you suddenly felt a strong grasp wrap around your wrist-

Awakening with a scream, you felt your heart fight it's way out of your chest. Your neighbours would probably be leaving another not-so-passive note in your mailbox about this.

Sitting up on the couch, you found your lights still on and your TV still playing some mindless background noise. Another nightmare taking your sleep right from you when you needed it most.

Your cellphone lay on your coffee table in front of you, black screen staring back at you. Mulling it over in your head, you weighed up your options.

On one hand, he quite literally said to call if you needed him. But on the other, he probably just said it as a courtesy, something everyone says.

Either way, before you could really talk yourself out of it- you were dialing Hotch’s number and pressing your phone to your ear.

Zoning out a little at the dial tone, you were quickly snapped back by the sound of his voicemail service, a robotic voice asking you to leave him a message.

It all happened too quickly, your lips were firing off before you could stop yourself.

“Ah- oh God- uh sorry, I’m sorry this is- oh it’s actually me by the way. I’m sorry I called it’s just- I uh had a nightmare. That sounds really lame now that I’m saying this and I really shouldn’t have called- uh I realise now you didn’t pick up because you’ve got a life or you're sleeping- but I'm not and I uh- shit-sorry- Sir, this might be a record for the world’s most pathetic voicemail so maybe take this to a museum- or to a lab to have me tested because what the hell is this- anyway- shit- sorry again and enjoy your night- see you at work tomorrow morning, please- uh please don’t mention this or I will have to go into hiding. Anyways- good night- sorry.”

Hanging up after the message, you threw your phone at the couch and watched it bounce off the cushions and onto the rug. Stuffing your palms into your eyes you let out a pained groan.

“Please throw your phone into the ocean!” You begged, getting up from the couch. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You had almost forgotten the cringiest voicemail known to man. With how focused you were on perfecting this terrible boxed mac and cheese, your mind was nearly elsewhere.

Just as you’d managed to find a bit of peace, a knock at your front door made you jump out of your skin. Doing your best to calm yourself down, you brought your bowl of macaroni with you to the front door to investigate.

One eye to the peep hole, the minute you saw the person on the other side- your heart dropped. Slowly twisting the lock, you pulled the door back to reveal one Aaron Hotchner.

A very cozy looking Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir-“

“I got your message, you had another nightmare?”

Your words got trapped up in your throat before you could get them out. “Uh yeah.”

“What about? Are you okay”

Clearing your throat, you did your best to focus your gaze on him, remind yourself that you were here- safe in your apartment and not back there.

“Same old, I’m alone in the dark and then suddenly- he’s there.”

There was that expression on Hotch’s face again, this time you were sure it was concern, genuine concern. It was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Just as you were about to brush it off, pretend like it wasn’t driving you crazy, you could see a faint smile appearing as he kept speaking.

“I couldn’t find a museum that'd accept your voicemail but I did find a 24 hour convenience store with ice cream.”

He lifted the bag in his right hand and you could faintly see the tub through the plastic. “Is that cookies? That’s my-“

“Your favourite, yeah it is- do you mind sharing?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you nodded, quickly realising you’d been having this whole conversation in the hallway.

“Oh yeah, come in- get out of my hallway would you?”

Hotch laughed, quietly, but he still laughed as he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen as you hovered by the couch.

“I can even share my gross looking boxed mac and cheese if you ask nicely.”

That got the rest of the laugh out of him, smiling over his shoulder as he made himself at home in your kitchen. Trying to give yourself something to do, you picked up the TV remote.

“Sorry, the TV’s just been on as background noise but we could watch a movie- only if you want- I don’t even know how long you-“

Thankfully, Hotch cut you off again. “I’d love to watch a movie, as long as it isn’t a cartoon, with dinosaurs or superheroes.”

As he rounded the couch and passed you a bowl of ice cream, you looked up at him with an incredulous expression on your face.

“I literally just rented ‘cartoon dinosaur superheroes’, what the hell?"

Your face broke out in a grin before you could even finish your dumb joke and it had an instant effect on Hotch.

“Yeah well, I preferred the TV series- it went into much more detail.”

Spoon in your mouth, you shot a look at your usually-very-serious boss. You weren’t used to seeing this many smiles- let alone hearing this many jokes from the man.

“Which one was your favourite? The green one?” You pushed the corny little joke a little further.

He glanced back in your direction as he lifted his own spoon to his lips. “I liked the one that put out fires.”

Immediately a grin broke out across your face as you couldn't contain your giggles. You quieted down to a hum as you nodded at his quip. “There totally would be one that put out fires.”

Leaning back into your couch, you picked up your feet to lean them on your coffee table.

“You can put your feet up by the way, I don’t mind.”

As quickly as you said it, Hotch was reaching out a long arm to wave at your legs. “I do, get your feet off the table.”

Looking at him in (slight) faux-shock, you shook your head as he did his best to fight off an impending chuckle.

“Excuse me? This is my house!”

Hotch’s smile only grew. “Hardly a house, it’s a living room with a bed in the back of it.”

Stunned expression painted across your face, a series of unintelligible noises fell past your lips as it was your turn to try not to laugh.

“Alright then, next time I have a trauma induced nightmare then I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Perfect, I’ll have the boxed macaroni cheese and dinosaurs.”

“Great, and I’ll pick apart every stylistic choice you’ve ever made in.”

Hotch finished off another spoonful of ice cream as he shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m a very skilled interior decorator.”

You cocked your head towards him, eyes narrowed as you played on the bit. “Suuuurely not?”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Eyes wide in excitement as he said the words, you couldn’t believe Aaron Hotchner was a certified funny-guy. Your stoic boss, your always knowing what to say, what to do, boss. You quickly reached for the TV remote off the table as the next thought struck you.

“That’s the one, I wonder if they're streaming Airplane!”

It wasn’t like you even lasted the first 20 minutes before you fell asleep. You felt so warm, so cozy, so at peace that you hadn’t even realised you were drifting off until you did.

Hotch didn’t mind either, just happy to see you finally sleeping. His right arm stayed firmly around your side as your cheek and hand laid against his chest, snoring only quietly.

He smiled from above you, tilting his neck just enough to gently rest his chin against the top of your head.

That night you dreamed, for the first time in weeks. You were in your apartment, but the lights were shining and the moon had cast a glow over the room. You could tell you weren’t alone, you felt the company, but you couldn't find it to be scared.

Somebody else was in your apartment and he remembered your favourite ice cream.

-

As you rushed through the door of the conference room, all eyes switched from the round table fell on you. Within an instant, heat was rising up your cheeks.

“Nice of you to join us.” Morgan teased as you slipped into a seat next to Spencer.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrambling to grab some of the files in front of you. “Slept in.”

A simple sentence quieted everyone back down as expressions softened across all of them.

“Slept?” JJ asked quietly, full attention on you. “You’re sleeping again?”

A smile cracked at the corner of your lips, nodding gently as you tried to keep your head down. “Yeah, first time in weeks last night.”

Everyone let you off the hook after that, it was all back to work and start filing the reports from the last case. As you all shuffled out to head back to your desks, you heard a voice behind you call your name.

Leaving just you and Hotch in the room, you felt that same heat creep right back up your neck. You stepped over towards him, only bringing yourself to meet his eyes once you were right in front of him.

“Sir, listen, about last night-“

“I’m sorry,” He stopped your babbling before you could even start. “I was out of line.”

Not what you were expecting. This morning had been hazy, Hotch slipping out with a sore neck from sleeping upright. You not even waking as he left.

But this was still-

“I shouldn’t have let myself get as close as I did,” He continued, his tone back to as professional as always. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

Hotch couldn’t bare the look on your face. Eyes dropping in confusion and bottom lip daring to wobble. He had to steel himself, he had to walk out of that room before he did something that'd cost his career.

-

He'd completely closed down any chance for the two of you. You'd sort-of-kind-of resigned yourself to the fact it was never going to happen, but having it come crashing down right in front of you hurt more than you'd expected.

You didn't realise that you'd designated a space to him in the centre of your chest until you felt it break. Thinking back on it now, it will completely foolish to think your boss would ever dare to pursue anything with you.

But there was last night.

You'd woken briefly, just the once, and you'd felt his arm around your waist. You'd heard the beat of his heart just under your ear. You could've sworn you'd felt him press his lips against the top of your head.

That was all said and done now. If you'd known it was your only chance, you probably would've held onto it for just a little longer. You thought a hot shower after a long day would help to dissipate your feelings, but you still felt it weighing heavy on your mind.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you decided there was no other choice but to get on with things. What'd your therapist said? Keep moving forward until you have more good memories to replace the other ones?

Besides, you'd gotten on just fine before, without him. There was no reason for this to change anything.

Even after you knew how it felt to fall asleep beside him.

Swinging open the box freezer, you scanned the shelf for something to eat before your eyes fell on the scene of the crime. Last night's ice cream stared back at you with cruel intent.

You decided you'd make a spectacle of it, retrieving it from the freezer to stab a spoon right through the middle of it. The first mouthful stung, the rest was just...ice cream.

Dragging your feet towards the couch, you were nearly close enough to collapse into comfort when a knock at the door sent a fright through you that you'd never get used to. Cautiously, you pressed your eye back to the peep hole and screwed up your face in confusion.

"Sir?" You asked as the door swung open, finding Hotch back in that same place on your doorstep.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "You really don't have to be. Like you said, it shouldn't have happened."

You'd been hesitant to look him in the eye as you spoke, roaming the spotted ceiling of your apartment hall instead. But as you shifted to catch his eyes, you found him- preocupied.

Hotch's eyes trailed further down, serious expression fixed to his features as his eyes moved to your legs. Only when you went to follow his gaze did you realise.

You'd answered the door fresh out the shower. Skin still a little damp, only in a t-shirt and a thin pair of panties.

You were standing in front of your boss in next to nothing.

And he looked like he wanted to eat you whole (he did).

He managed to clear his throat, to tear his eyes off your body and back to your face. Mustering up the courage, tensing his fists and relaxing his shoulders, he began speaking before he could think.

"I am sorry and I need to say it. I overstepped a boundary here and I put my own feelings for you over everything else and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable-"

"Hotch-"

"I thought I was fine with keeping this in my head and I never wanted to-"

"Hotch-"

"But I just need to tell you that this wont change anything with-"

"Sir."

Finally, your interjection managed to cut through and he stopped himself. "Hotch, you've never asked me what I actually want."

His features softened a tiny amount, his fists unfurling as he willed himself to relax the rest of himself. "What do you want?"

Taking a long stride towards him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with the man. Your hand gently ran his tie through your fingers, twisting a little to grasp it for leverage.

"You."

Hotch sucked in a deep breath, his head tilted towards you but his eyes closed. "Please don't say that."

You looked up at him from under your lashes, finding him slowly opening his eyes to watch you move even closer to him.

"Got no reason to lie to you, sir."

You heard his breath catch in his throat as Hotch moved his hands, until they were just and only resting on your hips. You felt the heat radiating off his large palms, closing in until they spanned across your lower back.

"I really shouldn't do this." His voice was a hush, he was still trying to talk himself out.

Not like you were going to let him.

"Then let me."

Closing the space between the two you, your lips pressed against the hard line of his until he opened up for you. You lead things just long enough for him to get comfortable, falling into motion and his tongue pushing forward into your mouth.

His hands tightened, gripping onto your waist like he might lose you if he let you go. Walking you back into your apartment, he blindly kicked his leg back to shut the door. Surging forward, he had the backs of your thighs against the arm of the couch.

Pulling back to take a look at you, his eyes moved to you swollen lips. His thumb came up to brush against your lower lip, gently gripping it between his fingers.

"Pretty, pretty girl," He sighed, you could feel his thigh slotting between your legs. "Such a good girl."

You couldn't stop it, the heady little moan that fell from your mouth at his words. Mixed with the soft feeling of his suit pants pressing to your core, undoubtedly you were leaving some kind of mess on the expensive trousers.

Hotch flexed his thigh, enjoying the feeling of you grinding yourself against his leg like a desperate slut. He watched as you tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

Ducking his head, he pressed his lips in a line down your neck and biting gently at the join of your shoulder. "Get up on the couch."

His voice was a rumble in his chest, but there was a command in there that had you moving without being told twice. You went to sit down on it, but Hotch caught you and spun you slightly till you were falling onto the cushions on your knees.

Arms slung over the back of the couch and ass pointed out, you looked back over your shoulders with hazy eyes. Hotch slipped his suit jacket off, throwing it across a chair as he started to roll up his sleeves.

It was so simple, such an easy move but it had an effect on you like nothing else. His strong arms came into view and the veins on his hands flexed as he rolled the fabric. You could feel the damp spot growing on your panties.

This was a different Hotch than the one that stayed over the other night. This was closer to the one that sat behind his desk, stoic and unshakeable. Part of you knew the desperation that was hiding behind the stern look on his face.

You two really had one shot at this. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to enjoy this, it'd never happen again.

Snapping you from your thoughts, you felt two long fingers run up the length of your cunt. Even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you could feel his rough grasp as he gently began to rub at your clit.

Your head lolled forward, a gasp sounding from your chest as you backed your hips towards his touch. As he slid your panties to the side, fingers now running right through your wetness, you could hear the sound of him drawing down his fly.

"I've tried so hard- from the moment I met you-" The words fell from his lips, his knee coming up on the couch to get closer. "I've thought about this moment every night."

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, feeling his firm chest press to your back as his words spurred you on. You could picture it in your mind, your boss in the shower, alone in his bed- his hand fisting at his cock as he thought of you.

Pretty you, sweet and kind you. Always the first to do what he says, to look at him with those glassy eyes and say "yes, sir." To him, this was inevitable.

It was only ever a matter of time.

Swiping up the slick from between your legs, you looked back quickly to see him running it across the head of his cock. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing the size of him as he dragged his hand down the length of it.

"Fuck- that's big."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud. Hotch chuckled as your words, his brows raising slightly as he did.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," He cooed, lining himself up with your entrance. "We'll make it fit."

Your eyes squeezed shut and a drawn out, frankly pornographic, moan fell out. Hotch groaned deep in his chest as he sunk into you, feeling the tight grip of your soaking cunt.

Feeling the press of his lips on your shoulder blade, he made it in fully before he stilled. He was giving you a moment, letting you catch your breath despite the ever-present need to absolutely wreck you.

Reaching back, you franticly tapped at his hip. Quiet pleas of "move, please move" filling the space around you. He was kind, he gave you exactly what you needed as he began to roll his hips into yours.

One of his hands firmly held your hip, the other ran underneath your t-shirt so he could grip at your chest. He cupped one of your breasts, rolling it round in his large palm as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

"God- you feel so good, sweetheart."

You whimpered for him, a pathetic whine sounding from you as you bucked your hips back against him. The hand on your hip began to slip forward, fingers coming around to rub against your clit.

From the speed in which he was fucking into you, the frantic movements of his fingers, the clip of his breath- he was trying hard to hold on. He was doing whatever he could to keep his cool but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

The prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on, the subject of all his inappropriate desires was knelt in front of him. You were somehow tighter than he'd dreamed, somehow sounded sweeter than he'd imagined.

You were calling out his name, chants of "Aaron, fuck, Aaron-" that were no doubt slinking through the thin walls of this apartment and keeping the neighbours up.

He didn't care, he'd get you to tell the whole fucking city if he could. When you felt this good, when you looked this pretty for him? He'd throw his whole career to the fucking wind if it meant he got to do this whenever he wanted.

Maybe- maybe not that far. But Hotch wasn't really in the position to be thinking logically right now. Not when you were turning back over your shoulder to capture his lips, moaning straight down his throat as he continued to sink his hips into you.

"Fuck- you're so deep, sir."

Hotch could've come right then, there was no way he could keep it together when you were saying it like that. He knew good and well that this is why this was never meant to happen.

How was he meant to go back to work and deal with you calling him that, when he's heard just how good it could sound?

He sped up his fingers, messy circles rubbing at your clit as your whole body began to tense. He felt your back arching, pushing back into his chest as you cried out.

"God- I'm gonna'- Aaron- I'm gonna' cum-" Was all you could manage before you clenched around him.

Suddenly, your vice grip released and you were falling limp against the couch with a whimper. Hotch fucked you through it, feeling the shocks wracking your body as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could.

Hotch watched over you, seeing the blissed out expression on your face as you came for him. He looked down to see the way your cunt fluttered around him, a wet mess left on the shaft of his cock.

Taking mental note, he knew that he'd never be able to forget this. His one chance to have you like this, to hold you and feel you gripped around him. The sight of you took over him, his hips stuttering as he gripped hard on your hips.

You opened your eyes just in time to see his head tipped back, strong arms and chest straining against his dress shirt. Hotch's lips parted as a quiet moan of your name ripped from his chest.

Quickly, he slipped himself out as he stroked himself over your ass. Long fingers pulled your panties down around your thighs as hot ropes of cum painted your lower back and behind. Your eyes were growing hazier but you kept them open to watch as he did it.

You were slumped over the back of the couch, high dissipating through your body as you heard him tuck himself back into his trousers. You could hear him moving away, but soon he returned with a warm cloth against your back.

Slipping your panties back into place, he turned you around gently and settled you into his side. Right back where things had started, your sleepy body falling into him.

You both knew it, that this would be the last time. This would never go anywhere else. But there was part of you that'd become content with that, getting used to the strong beat of his heart beside your ear.

Feeling a strong hand brush against your face, this time you were sure of it. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head as you began to drift off asleep.

You knew he'd been gone again when you woke up, you'd both show up to work like all of this hadn't happened. But that was okay, you felt the sleep overtaking you- a feeling that you'd missed.

You slept absolutely soundly, for the second time in weeks.

[sunmoonjune]

raspberry leaves

pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]

warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort

word count: 12.5k

a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)

Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life. 

It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.

It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious. 

Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands. 

“What happened?” 

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we? 

It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so. 

You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry. 

It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours. 

Your period is merciless. 

You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point. 

It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber. 

Nothing seems to help. 

A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now. 

You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High. 

You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them. 

Not for this. 

There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop. 

You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own. 

Can’t you?

But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure. 

When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach. 

You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep. 

But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will. 

Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself. 

“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.” 

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later. 

He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner. 

Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.

But you’re not there. 

Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright. 

“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay? 

Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace. 

But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers. 

He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse. 

A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting. 

Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach. 

His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest. 

“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.” 

Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow. 

“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound. 

When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back. 

You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway. 

Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach. 

“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?” 

Still, you don’t respond. 

You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him. 

But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach. 

You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak. 

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.” 

All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after. 

“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock. 

You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle. 

“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.” 

Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look. 

Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look. 

You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop. 

Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice. 

“Sugu…” 

He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name. 

“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…” 

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you. 

“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs. 

Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again. 

“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.” 

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly. 

It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back. 

You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache. 

“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?” 

You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream. 

You just want to sleep. 

“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.” 

You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me? 

But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets. 

Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry. 

Suguru lets him rest. 

He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door. 

“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.” 

Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again. 

“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.” 

He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes. 

“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.” 

You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock. 

It’s too much for you to handle alone. 

You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone. 

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click. 

Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.

You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach. 

Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control. 

He’s never seen you look so hurt. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.” 

“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years. 

This is a knife to his heart. 

You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold. 

“It hurts, Sugu…” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”

Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you. 

“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you. 

You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible. 

“Haven’t slept yet.” 

Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. 

Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh. 

“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”

You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin. 

“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you. 

“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.” 

“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.” 

You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more. 

“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.” 

He hates the sound of your tears. 

When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it. 

“You took your painkillers?” 

You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight. 

“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”

“How long ago?” 

He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain. 

“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful? 

“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no  point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…” 

Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything. 

“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.” 

You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach. 

“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”

You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around. 

“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.” 

 His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle. 

Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers. 

Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that. 

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”  

Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes. 

Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely. 

Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason. 

“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same. 

“Hi, Sugu.” 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”

You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed. 

“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before. 

“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”

You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand. 

“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.” 

Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first. 

When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door. 

But he only gets so far. 

Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.

You sway on your feet. 

Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic. 

You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.

When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops. 

Then your body stills, and you crumple. 

“Baby!” 

Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving. 

He’s going to be sick. 

His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared. 

“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open. 

“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks. 

Suguru doesn't know what to do. 

“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”

You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous. 

“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…” 

You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs. 

“Satoru!” 

His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids. 

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake. 

Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body. 

“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes. 

Satoru thinks he’s dying. 

It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway. 

“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?” 

His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation. 

“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”

Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries. 

“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”

“Suguru.” 

The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns. 

“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him. 

“She’s not waking up…”

Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses. 

‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up. 

“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?” 

Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…

And he doesn't want to. 

His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek. 

Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting. 

“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.” 

Satoru sags in relief.

“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.” 

Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters. 

Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son. 

Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time. 

Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed. 

Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright. 

Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright. 

Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son. 

“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”

That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again. 

“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.” 

Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it. 

Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now. 

With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.

“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom. 

“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.” 

He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself. 

 From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin. 

“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.” 

Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek. 

“Please.” 

He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention? 

Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons. 

Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.

But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy. 

Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now. 

Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state. 

Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup. 

When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way. 

So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully. 

“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?” 

Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response. 

“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”

Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell. 

Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi. 

“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.” 

Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache. 

“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” 

Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it. 

Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be. 

But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy. 

“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back. 

Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same. 

“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables. 

There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck. 

Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father. 

Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound. 

Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out. 

“Suguru…” 

His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control. 

Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features. 

“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.” 

 Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes. 

“Wha’ happened?” 

Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question. 

“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?” 

Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you. 

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum. 

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”

You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut. 

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.

“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap. 

“Gumi’s awake?”

“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”

Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process. 

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes. 

You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”

You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.

“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.” 

Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues. 

“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks. 

You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums. 

“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands. 

“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.” 

Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried. 

Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture. 

Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front. 

“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”

The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can. 

“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.” 

You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace. 

“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick. 

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs. 

“Hi.” 

The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back. 

When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too. 

That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family. 

When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake. 

“Toru?”

The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear. 

Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be. 

“Oh, Satoru…”

Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down. 

“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…” 

You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him. 

“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”

Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh. 

With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity. 

You’re here. And you’re safe. 

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.” 

You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you. 

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest. 

“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.” 

Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back. 

“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.” 

You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms. 

“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?” 

Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling. 

“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.” 

You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach. 

When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you. 

Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly. 

“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly. 

“This is burning you,” he states it obviously. 

“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.” 

Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller. 

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?” 

Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting? 

Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.

“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.” 

You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands. 

“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” 

When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly. 

“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners. 

“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest. 

“Good.” 

Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near. 

“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”

The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another. 

“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.” 

Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them. 

When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist. 

He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly. 

Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too. 

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.” 

Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest. 

“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.” 

In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside. 

When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer. 

“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?” 

The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels. 

When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read. 

Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face. 

Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.” 

He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him. 

“Thanks, love.” 

Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you. 

Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen. 

“Careful!” 

Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.

“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’ 

When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival. 

“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple. 

Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you. 

“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?” 

Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear. 

“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.” 

Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead. 

“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”

Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes. 

“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.” 

You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close. 

“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.” 

The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed. 

Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands. 

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.” 

You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks. 

When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family. 

“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.” 

You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps,  and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch. 

Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru. 

Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers. 

Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch. 

Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap. 

“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly. 

You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else. 

“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!” 

The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap. 

No, he doesn’t think he will. 

bonus:

gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty

reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3

ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part one

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

“You’re kidding me.”

Max is standing in front of you, he can barely withhold his laugh. You can see the first signs of his laugh by the way his mouth corners are up. You’re not focused on your brother and his stupid laugh, you’re focused on his best friend. Lando Norris, who’s holding out his hand to you with a silver key in it. You can only hope that this is some sort of prank, but it doesn’t seem like it.

“No,” Max tells you, “We’re getting renovations and the backup apartment only has two bedrooms.”

“I can sleep on the couch?” You offer hopeless. 

“Lando has a room for you,” your brother replies, “and he’s barely home, so what’s the big deal?”

“He’s Lando,” you sigh annoyed. 

Lando has been silent before, but this time he speaks up as well. Almost annoyed he grunts, “He’s standing here. You should be grateful instead of acting like a -” “Lando,” Max is quick to interrupt him. Now that Lando thinks back about the words he was going to say, maybe it’s better that Max interrupted him. Calling you a brat who needs to get laid, by him, wouldn’t make him more popular by you. Oops. 

“See,” you say with an annoyed look at Lando, “I’ll book a hotel because this is the worst idea ever.” 

“You’re going to live in a hotel room in Monaco for a good month or two?” Max asks you surprised, “I’m not paying for that.” 

“Babygirl,” Lando starts. You try to silence him with a angry glance, but it doesn’t work. Since the last couple weeks he keeps calling you babygirl, princess or some other terrible nickname. You can’t get him to stop. “I’ll behave,” Lando continues.

“See?” Max asks you with the same tone you used with him earlier. 

“Until you beg me to misbeha-” 

“Lando for fucks sake,” Max grunts while interrupting his friend again. “I told you it was a bad idea for you to be included in this conversation, you’re only making things worse.”

Lando finally gets the hint and walks away from the room, leaving Max and you alone to talk about all of this. When he’s standing in the hallway, he can’t help himself to stay close by the door. Maybe he can hear something of what you’re saying. In the mean time he looks at his phone, he notices multiple new messages on different platforms. When he opens a couple snaps he’s greeted with nudes from girls he barely recognizes, sometimes with the question when they will see him again. It annoys him. There aren’t many girls who understand that a one night stand is for only one night. He ignores the snaps. 

“Max you can’t expect me to live with him,” you tell your brother angrily, “He’s a literal man whore.  I will probably stay awake every night that he’s home because he always brings some girl with him.”

“I bet that if you ask him to be a bit more quiet, he’ll do so,” Max disagrees with you.

“Still,” you sigh, “We don’t like each other. Lando and I aren’t friends like the two of you. We’re always arguing.” 

“Why don’t you like Lando?” Max asks you, “I mean, you’re often the one who starts with the arguments.”

“That’s now!” You quickly defend yourself, “Earlier it was always Lando who started things. Whenever you left he would always tease me with something.”

Max doesn’t reply this time. You continue to whine about living with Lando. “Can’t you live with Lando? I’m sure Kelly would like it if I’m taking your place.” This time Max chuckles, but he still shakes his head.

“I don’t have another solution then this,” Max tells you eventually. He doesn’t tell you that Lando begged him to let you stay at his place during the renovations. Max also doesn’t tell you that he probably can rent you another apartment for a while, or could have found a place for himself, Kelly, Penelope and you. Lando owns him a lot after this. 

“Am I really going to live with Lando?” 

“Just for a while,” Max replies with a small smile. It seems like you finally agreed. 

Lando is smiling even more on the other side of the door. He’s glad that he’s standing here and hears this. His plan worked. At least, the first step of like a billion steps worked out for him. When he hands you his keys five minutes later, the smile is still plastered on his face. 

+++

“We need some ground rules.”

Lando looks away from the street in front of him to throw a short look at you. The two of you are sitting in his car, much to your disliking. He waited at Max his place until you were done with packing so he could take you with him. While packing your stuff, you kept wondering why you decided to live with Max in Monaco, since it caused this drama. 

“Ground rules babygirl?” Lando asks you. He tries to focus on the road again, but he feels distracted with you this close next to him. 

“Rule one, no more calling me babygirl,” you mutter annoyed. 

“Nope,” Lando is quick to answer. 

Before you can say anything else, Lando speaks up again. “Let’s talk about your rules later, I’m trying to focus on driving.”

“Didn’t know that a formula one driver had trouble with normal car driving,” you mutter. 

Lando laughs softly. You’re without a doubt the most annoying girl he knows, but he wants nothing more then to make you his annoying girl. That can’t be good. It really can’t be. You on the other hand aren’t laughing, you’re still annoyed by everything that happened and is going to happen. You try to distract yourself by wondering about Lando his apartment: how would it look? You expect it to be all manly. Probably no decor, only formula one stuff and more like that. 

When Lando parks his car in an underground garage, he’s quick to tell you about how things work in the apartment complex. “If you want, you can park your car here as well,” he tells you after giving a whole explanation about getting in the garage after hours. 

“I don’t have a car,” you tell Lando, “I always used one of Max’s.”

“Oh, you can use one of mine then if you need a car,” Lando simply states without even thinking about it. You don’t know what to say. When looking at the multiple cars that are parked on spots that match with Lando his apartment number, you can only wonder what they cost. He is really offering you to use his expensive cars whenever you like? “I’ll show you where the keys are later,” Lando continues, “you don’t have to ask if you want to use them.”

“You’re kidding right?” You ask surprised. Lando is already shocking you. Normally the two of you are always bickering, mostly because of you, so it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s offering something big like this. 

“No babygirl,” he replies, “you can use every one of them.”

“Even your McLaren?” You ask while looking at the special McLaren that Lando owns. 

“Even the McLaren.”

You can’t stop yourself and grin. This is a nice thing. Max is always really protective over his cars, certainly the ones who mean a bit more to him or were more expensive. Lando doesn’t seem to care as much. You already can’t wait to try his cars. 

Together with Lando you use the elevator to get to his floor. You’re getting more curious about Lando his apartment. Lando on the other hand is thinking about something else. He wonders about how you will be in his apartment. Since Max told him about those renovations, he couldn’t help himself and kept imagining living together with you. Seeing it as his big chance to finally show you that he’s not some little boy anymore and maybe to connect a bit more with you. He hopes that he finally can make sure that you get to know the real him. But he doesn’t have a plan for that yet. 

When Lando opens the door and drags your suitcase inside with him, you feel the reality of the situations washing over you. This is it. You’re really living with Lando for now. It feels weird. Lando and you have a complicated past. It’s not as bad as it was before, but you do have a strong opinion about him. And it’s not a positive one. 

You remember all those discussions between Lando and you. The times he teased you until you exploded at him. Or the times you started it and made him crazy. Before it could be simple, but when Lando started his ‘fuck boy era’ - at least, that’s how you call it, you’re even more annoyed by him. Every time he comes over he seems to have some sort of story about a random girl who landed in his bed. It annoys you. 

“So, what do you think?” Lando pulls you out of your thoughts. Slowly you walk inside his apartment. It’s big. Even bigger then you already expected. About the other things you were kinda right. The interior is nice, but it seems basic. He probably called a specialist once, who made sure he has a nice interior. It’s not bad, but it’s not personal. You miss the simple personal touches. It feels a bit stoic. 

“Looks good,” you tell Lando. 

“And now your honest opinion?” Lando sees right through you. 

“It’s nice,” you say before being honest, “but I miss the personal touches.” 

Lando smirks. “Maybe you can take care of that one day,” he jokes. Or better said, he says it like it’s a joke but he would love it if you would actually make his apartment more homey. But you can start with being here. 

“Let me show you the rest,” Lando tells you. He grabs your arm and takes you with him. You’re surprised by the way he searches physical contact with you. Even more surprised with the way it feels. Lando shows you the apartment. You’re quick to find out which room has a few personal touches, his game room. If you should call it that at least. Multiple helmets and trophies are standing in shelves leaning on the walls. 

Lando doesn’t give you a lot of time to look around at his personal belongings. The same thing happens with his own bedroom. You can barely see his bed and then he closes the door again. He takes you with you to the bathroom, before finally showing you the guest bedroom. 

“Think this is okay?” He asks you a bit nervous. You don’t notice the nervous tone in his voice. Slowly you look around in the guest room. It seems nice. There’s plenty room for all your stuff and the bed seems pretty comfortable. You even spot some fresh flowers on the bedside table. Did Lando get those? You can’t imagine it, it must be the doing of his cleaner or something. 

Lando sees the way you look at the fresh flowers. He wonders what you’re thinking right now. You probably don’t think that he has bought them himself. He knew beforehand that if you would move in with him, that it would happen today. So earlier this morning he went to the flower shop to get some fresh flowers for your room. Hoping it would make you feel a bit more at home. He doesn’t tell you that he bought them. You probably won’t believe him anyway. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Lando earlier question, “this is fine.”

“I hope you don’t snore,” Lando jokes, “the walls are thin.”

“Then I hope you don’t take a girl with you every night,” you throw back. 

“Jealous?” Lando questions you with a raised eyebrow. 

“All though, I don’t think I’ll hear the girl much,” you continue, “You’re probably more concerned about your own pleasure.”

“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Just wait until you find out how concerned I am about your pleasure.” 

You try to withhold any sort of reaction to be shown. Inside you’re going crazy. Lando always makes remarks that are a bit on the bold side, but he never made them this sexual. Fuck. You can’t think about stuff like this. 

“That brings me back to my earlier statement, we need some rules,” you tell Lando.

“I need rules in my own home?” He asks you surprised. Of course he knew this was coming, but after your remarks Lando isn’t making this easy for you. 

“Yes,” you sigh, “because otherwise we’re going to fight every day.”

“Maybe I like that,” Lando continues to annoy you. 

You let out a sigh. Lando lets out a soft chuckle. It’s so easy to tease you. He knows he should stop, but you know what they say, right? Boys always tease the girls they like the most. He walks back to the living room with you and offers you something to drink before getting on the couch next to you. 

“What rules do you suggest, babygirl?” He then asks you. 

“One, no more calling me babygirl,” you tell him just as you did earlier today.

“Nope,” Lando states, it’s the same answer he gave you the first time. You don’t react to his no, you continue with the rest of your rules. 

“Rule number two, I don’t want to meet every other girl you bring here,” you say. 

“Afraid you’d get jealous?” Lando asks you teasingly. He can only hope that it’s like that, but he knows better. You’re not jealous of those girls. He understands this rule, it would be a mess if he needed to explain to every girl why you’re living with him and that you’re not his girlfriend. Plus, maybe he should stop bringing this many girls to his apartment. His phone is blowing up by the ones who he gave his number, a lot of them expect something more - while he made clear it would be a one time thing. And maybe, really maybe, it’s not fair for those girls that he uses them to forget about you for a bit. 

Some stupid plan that doesn’t even work anyways. Every time a girl is laying underneath him, he can only imagine that it’s you. He wonders how it would feel when it was actually you. How you would sound. There have been many girls, but he thinks about the same girl every time. You. 

“That’s okay,” Lando responds to your rule, “I’ll try.”

You nod satisfied. “And maybe you can also tone it down a bit with the sexual remarks towards me?” You ask him after your succes.

“No, no,” Lando quickly replies, “I want to say to you what I think.” 

You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything else on the subject. “How do you want to do this Lando?” You ask him eventually. “Do you want to live together or next to each other? Want to have dinner together or? I really don’t know how this can work.”

“Let’s try to live together,” Lando tells you hopefully, “We can have dinner together and inform each other a bit about when we’re home or not.”

“Sure?” You ask surprised. You expected him to chose the other option.

“Sure babygirl.”

+++

That evening the two of you decided that Lando could have a cheat day with his healthy diet. Together you ordered some take out. 

“Remember when you DM’ed this girl to get McDonalds with you,” you tease when Lando offers to order some McDonalds. He sends you an angry glare. “She didn’t seem to interested,” you continue to tease. 

“Are you going to eat McDonalds with me or not?” Lando asks you annoyed, “because otherwise I’ll find a girl who will.”

After eating together, you decided to test out the bathroom by taking a shower. When you walk in nothing more then a small towel wrapped around your body back to your bedroom, you decide that you will unpack and organize tomorrow. For now you only need to find something to sleep in. You rummage through your bagage, but there’s no pyjama in sight. Fuck. Clothes are quickly scattered around on the bedroom floor. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. 

You wonder if Lando has something you can wear for tonight, tomorrow you can get your other stuff. In nothing more then a towel on your body, you walk out of your room and start to search for Lando. You hold the towel closely to your body, not wanting to flash Lando. He isn’t in the living room or kitchen, you continue to search. When you hear noises coming out of his game room, you softly knock on the door. 

“Lando?” You ask while knocking again. 

In no time the door is opened. Lando is standing in front of you. You feel a bit distracted when you look at Lando. In some weird way you can’t stop looking at him. The earlier hoodie he was wearing has made place for a white blouse. It suits him. He looks so fine. Fuck. 

“Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You ask him.

Lando doesn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His eyes are glued on the towel that’s wrapped around your body. Is it really the only thing you’re wearing right now? He can’t even think or function properly right now. He can’t look away from your almost bare body. Fuck, he already knows what he’s thinking about the next couple times while trying to orgasm. Your body looks even better then he already thought. He notices your curves and the way the towel accentuates them even more.

“Did you hear me?” It’s your voice that pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Oh no sorry,” he quickly mutters. He tries to look you in the eyes, but his eyes keep hanging on your body. He focusses on your breasts which are almost in his sight. It’s not hard to miss that you’re a bit cold, your nipples are coming through the towel. 

“I wondered if you have something for me to sleep in?” You ask Lando again, surprised he didn’t hear you the first time. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”

“Of course,” Lando quickly replies. He takes you with him to his bedroom and searches through his closet for a bit. When he found a particular shirt, he’s quick to hand it to you. It’s not a coincidence that he chose a shirt with his name all over it. He hopes he’s going to see you into it. Within seconds you have left him alone again. 

Lando sighs and walks back to the other room. This is going to be hard for him, but he can only hope that he’ll manage to win your heart eventually. When his phone vibrates, he quickly looks at it. 

Max: Explain how I’m FaceTiming with Y/N and seeing her in one of your shirts already???

writers note ; don't really know yet how i'm going to write this one, so every idea is welcome :) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ps; i changed the playlist link to a new one

part two

[tuesdayiminlove]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 2/3

where jamie seems to remember everything, and you're just trying to navigate a stitch on your crochet flower (jamie tartt x fem!reader)

part one

A/N: here's part two!!!!! link what yall think, im so grateful for the feedback of the first part, it's super encouraging <33 tysm. also this is NOT proofread oops

word count: 4.5k

When you arrive back inside your home, you’re heavy-breathing with a heartbeat erratic enough for your heart to pop out of your chest. You place your keys down, reaching into your jean pocket for your phone, placing the first call you can manage to muster up. 

Stevie is over within minutes, you think you might’ve heard her light jogging over to your house. 

Her heavy pants echo the room as she tries to muster up the words. “I just got back from work, and I fucking ran! Tell me the emergency immediately.”

“I don’t even know where to begin!” you say. “I mean, I was trying to make some creamy vegetable soup, but I didn’t even get to chop the tomatoes, Stevie! The fucking tomatoes! I—“

“Okay, begin by getting the point, babe." She walks to your kitchen, you following close behind. It doesn’t come to a surprise that she opens your refrigerator, most likely rummaging for the cucumbers and your chickpea hummus. “I love you, but if this is dire, I’m gonna need to know now.” 

You gather your thoughts as Stevie begins to look through your drawers for a knife. How do you even say it simply? “Jamie Tartt thinks I’m his girlfriend.”

Stevie drops the knife. 

In any other situation, you would scold her for doing something close to a hazard in the kitchen. But you understand her actions completely. If you were holding a flower pot when finding out this information, you’d drop that shit, too. 

“Continue before I absolutely freak the fuck out.”

That’s when you tell her about the call and the trip to the hospital. The words are coming out of your mouth at the speed of light, you’re surprised Stevie is managing to keep up. But she does, quietly chopping her cucumbers and dipping a few into the hummus. This is a more collected look than when she dropped the knife, but you’re sure the gears are turning in her head just as much as they are for you currently. 

“I just left his house and I told him I’d be back with—soup!”

You don’t wait to turn the stove back on, shuffling Stevie away from the center of the counter while you go back to cooking. 

She says your name slowly, eyes wide. “This is some romcom-movie-shit, babe.”

You fight a roll of your eyes. “This is real life!” you scold. “And the poor boy is concussed, probably mental!” 

“Mental for thinking he’s dating you? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking magnificent.”

“Thanks,” you drawl, not in the mood for a compliment. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a bit bonkers right now, and I don’t know what to do!” You stir the pot stressfully, watching the ingredients mix around the broth. You’ve put a bit more ingredients, and added more broth to make sure that the serving is good for two, and for any leftovers Jamie may want. You think you’ll have enough to send Steve home with, as well. “The doctor said not to startle him, but I’m pretty fucking startled. So I don’t know how to not startle him when I’m not in the right state of mind! This feels so stupid.” 

“I think you should tell him the truth,” says Stevie. She’s right behind your shoulder, peering over at the pot. She takes a large whiff, and hums. “You making this for him?”

“And for you.” And me! 

“Ah,” she says. “I see. A little compensation so I don’t out you to the press, yeah? Nice thinking!”

“Not funny,” you drawl. It was never a thought that crossed your mind that Stevie would go out, telling people of your current entanglement with Jamie. She’s an editor for a magazine company, and she has a problem telling you all the tips she gets about local celebrities, always trusting you not to tell anyone anything. You don’t doubt that she’ll do the same for you. “So I should tell him the truth, then?” you ask, getting back to the main point of Stevie’s visit. 

“Mhm,” she replies. “Probably not today though, don’t you think? He’s overwhelmed enough as it is, he’s probably gonna be benched in Richmond’s next couple matches. That sad fuck is probably groveling as we speak. And he can’t even drink to cure the pain! … That’s how concussions work, right?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t do it today. If I were you, I’d play it by ear, you know?”

You nod, having heard all of this from the doctor.

"And one more thing."

Stevie hums in questionn

“… He may have tried to kiss me.”

You think everyone in the neighborhood heard Stevie’s screech when she belts your name. 

It’s later in the day when you ring Jamie’s doorbell. You’d successfully shooed Stevie out of your house, convincing her that she does not need to spy on you from your kitchen window in case Jamie tries to make a move (“I’ll be there in two seconds, ready to make that concussion worse. Just say the word.”). And now you have the soup in two tupperware containers, as well some carrots and dip in your tote bag because that’s what Jamie originally always used you for, right? The familiarity will hopefully make him happy. 

When he opens the door, you’re not surprised to see all the lights are closed, as well as his curtains shut (so much for Stevie spying). The only thing you see that’s shedding artificial light is the lamp by his staircase, but even that looks as dim as it can be. 

“Hey, love,” he says groggily, a certain warmth to it that makes the nickname seem more intimate. He rubs his eyes as he moves to create room for you to come inside. “Sorry I took so long. Took a bit of a nap.”

“Oh,” you frown, concern taking over the nerves of his sudden pet names, “I’m sorry for waking you. I can just drop these off and head out, if you’d prefer?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”

You enter apprehensively, though you’re trying your best to conceal it. This is the second time ever that you are in Jamie’s home. And it’s only been a day. The strangeness of that fact lingers in the air as you close the door behind you.

You trail behind him toward the kitchen, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Various football plaques litter the walls, as well as many, many photos of Richmond’s team.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” you say as you simultaneously take in his home. “I can prepare these myself and bring them to you.”

“Rubbish," scoffs Jamie, "I’m still mobile, and I’m not leaving my girlfriend to take care of me like you’re some sort of maid. I’m not bedridden.”

The word girlfriend, once again, catches you off guard, and your heart does a funny little stutter. You push it aside. “I just don’t want you to exert yourself,” you reason, brows furrowed. “You’re concussed, Jamie.”

“Who cares about that?” he jokes, waving off your concerns. 

Your jaw clenches. You want to say I care. Because this concussion is affecting you more than you fucking know. But you bite your tongue, and instead ask him where he keeps his bowls and silverware. 

Minutes later, Jamie and yourself are sitting on his couch. You took the liberty of sitting on the opposite end of his sofa, taking up as little space as possible. You’ve tucked yourself into the far corner, legs curled up slightly, trying to occupy as little room as possible. Jamie, on the other hand, lounges comfortably, his socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, though his posture is slightly more relaxed than it was earlier. You’d ask Jamie if it would be okay to crochet while you’re here, mainly so you can have something to do instead of sitting there awkward with today’s events before you. 

So, soup now resting on Jamie’s coffee table (you stop every few moments to take a bite), you’re intent on the rose petal you’re making with your yarn. Jamie alternates between eating his soup and watching you, his gaze unashamedly direct, though there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.

To anyone else, the scene might look endearingly domestic: the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the living room, him eating soup, you crocheting, the occasional exchange of lighthearted banter. But there’s an underlying element to it. You don’t want to tip-toe around Jamie, because you’re supposed to be acting natural and all, but it’s hard. 

“You’re the most thoughtful thing ever, you know that?” he says, after a minute of silence. 

Your hands pause mid-stitch, your eyes staying fixed on the delicate yarn in front of you as you decide how to respond, stomach churning nervously. “A ‘thing’?” you joke lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “How very gentlemanly of you.”

“You know what I mean!” chastises Jamie. 

Fighting the butterflies in your stomach as his words settle warmly around your heart.

“I do know,” you reply softly, finally glancing up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“The rose you’re knitting—“

“Crocheting.”

“Crocheting. Sorry, love. How many are you making for the old bloke’s grandson?”

The moment you take in Jamie's words, you pause, crochet hook in the air. “What?” 

Jamie looks confused. “Mr. Taylor? That his name?”

You shake your head, mind still reeling. “No, I know who you meant. How do you know I’m making this for his grandson?” You don’t recall telling that to Jamie when you initially mentioned what you wanted to do here. 

You currently have half of a rose petal done, wanting to make something special for Mr. Taylor grandson—Roman. The young toddler is allergic to flowers, getting all sniffly and itchy when you had brought over a hand-made flower arrangement for the Taylors (it had been their 37th wedding anniversary). But Roman had just kept looking at the flowers with such curiosity, despite his body’s affinity for them. When you had decided to take up crocheting (you wanted to make tiny plant plushies yourself—because why are stuffed plushies with cute faces on them so expensive these days?), one of the first things you learned was to make stuffed flower arrangements, just for when Roman would visit. 

How could Jamie possibly know that?

“Because you’re you,” says Jamie. Blush coats over his cheeks lightly when he averts his gaze from hers, hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“… And," he begins, "one day, I was in me car and I saw you walk over to the Taylors’ house with crochet roses. ‘Made it look like a nice arrangement, too. I wanted to ask you why you had fake flowers when you have fucking millions just in your front yard. Didn’t know if that’d sound weird, though, so…” he trails off, his words getting quieter, “So, I may have asked Mr. Taylor instead.”

You try to recall the memory Jamie spoke of. You do recall the last time you had headed over to the Taylors with the signature bouquet. Jamie had been at the front of his house, getting into his car. Of course she had noticed him immediately, spotting him just by her peripheral vision, but she hadn’t decided to spare him a look until she crossed the street to look back, but he had been preoccupied. She didn’t even think he saw her that day. 

That day had been nearly three months ago. 

Your mouth falls open. Jamie had noticed and asked about you that long ago?

Jamie glances at you nervously, mistaking your silence for something more negative. “I’m not some creep or anything, promise! I just—I dunno—I was curious! You’re always doing stuff like that.” 

You shake your head. “I just never knew you noticed,” you mumble, your nerves growing. Even now, he remembers. You wish you knew what that meant for you two; you wish that the suspicions and hopes in your brain are true. “Or asked.”

Jamie’s cockiness kicks back in at your flustered nerves. “Like I said, I’ve always noticed you. And now I get to be the luckiest guy.”

Your eyes meet his. For a moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is real—that this is the relationship you and Jamie have built together. That you’re a couple, and this is just one of those moments you get to stumble upon—a sweet realization that Jamie had liked you long before either of you dared to admit it.

You let yourself hold on to the fantasy, just for a moment.

It has to be just a moment... you think if you stare any longer at Jamie your body is going to take over and grab him for a kiss, just to know what it may feel like. You just know you shouldn’t.

“Four,” you say softly. “I’m making four for Roman.” You turn back to the stitch you had laid on your lap, trying to get out of your frenzie and into your zone. 

Jamie smiles, eyes still twinkling. “That’s his name? Roman?”

You hum. “He’s about to turn four. And he’s just the most adorable kid I’ve seen.”

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?" replies Jamie, "Prodding.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No.” You uncomfortably shift in your seat to hopefully look less odd. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I’m just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking a lot.”

“Yeah?” he says, staring at you intently. “What about?”

“Just… everything about today, I suppose.”

Jamie jokingly smiles. “Yeah, getting a call that your boyfriend got whacked in the head and is now concussed wasn’t really in your daily plan, was it?”

You let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”

“It got in the way of watering radishes, I bet.”

Again, you laugh more, your stomach moving steadily at the action. From the limited conversation you’ve had with him, paired with now, you’ve deduced that Jamie is just a complete pro for lightening up conversations. When your heart races nervously, a quip comes out of his mouth that makes your body go back steady. You don’t even think that this is an individual experience; he seems like he does it a lot. You wonder how that balance comes so perfectly in his life. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “My gardening has to come to a pause today.” 

“It’s a shame,” he says, grinning. “Would’ve loved to see you in your cute sunhat, or the giant yellow gloves you always wear.”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

Seeing your shock, he adds, “You think I don’t notice these things? I always have.”

You try not to cough up the food you’d just digested. You would like to consider that Jamie is just making things up, but the description of your usual accessories when you’re out tending to your plants remain true. The giant yellow gloves belong to your mom, and there hasn’t been any reason to buy new ones if you’ve already got a pair. 

And the sunhat—well, it’s not everyday you’re seen out with it. It’s usually if the sun ever comes out, glaring at your eyes while you try to focus on a task at hand. You’ve probably brought it out maybe a couple of times since Jamie had moved in next to you; none of those times being as of recent. 

It’s a shock Jamie can even recall it. 

He remembers the little things. I always have. 

“Fuck,” he mutters softly. “Have I creeped you out? Don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I thought what I said was pretty fucking cute. But I understand if it’s creepy again. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, Jamie, I’m not creeped. ‘M kinda just shocked that you notice things like that.” 

He shrugs. “It’s hard to not pay attention. You live right beside me. And you’re you. It’s pretty fucking impossible for me not to notice things about you.”

Your heart is back to racing. All of Jamie’s confessions of things he’s noticed can only insinuate that he’s genuinely seen things about you, whether he had gotten hit in the head or not. They’re not fabricated in his mind from his belief that you two are dating. He’s not like Holy shit, do you remember that time we had dinner together? You think if he started recalling specific memories that never happened, you’d check him straight into the nearest mental institution. 

But he’s saying things that are so undeniably true; things he’s noticed about your being. 

If you aren’t already so conscious and confused of the actual problem at hand, you’d sit here and pretend that he’s yours—just as much as he claims to be. You wish this moment to be real, but it’s not. The sadness and guilt that weighs over you with that fact can overtake any other feeling in this moment. 

“Jamie,” you begin, “I need to tell you something.”

You think about Stevie’s advice, to not tell him today. The doctor saying not to overwhelm him. You know they’re right. You don’t want to. The poor bloke is probably already stressed enough as it is. You want to be here for Jamie, to help him get better because even with your limited experience around him, you care very deeply about his wellbeing. And maybe your feelings are skewed by the crush you’ve been harboring on him, but that’s hardly the point anymore. 

But how are you supposed to keep this up? Pretending to be someone you’re not, filling a role in his life that isn’t truly yours—it feels wrong, no matter how much you want to help him heal.

You don’t think you’re cut out for pretending. 

Jamie looks at you expectantly, a small smile on his face and your heart just breaks. 

“Jamie… I don’t know how to say this,” you admit, your throat tightening. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”

For a second, Jamie looks beyond confused. “The fuck? Did we break up?”

“I got the call today,” you explain gently, shrinking down into the sofa with a racing heart. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I was worried—God, I was worried—but I didn’t understand why they called me. And then Roy said… he said we’d been going out.” You bite your lip, carefully choosing your next words. “It made me realize something had gone wrong. That maybe you hit your head and got things mixed up.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his brows knitting together as he processes your words.

“I wanted to do what was best for you,” you continue, your voice growing quieter. “Everyone kept telling me not to startle you, not to stress you out. But I can’t keep pretending we’re in a relationship when we’re not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel honest. “I care about you, Jamie. I care about you getting better. But I can’t pretend, okay? I’m really, really sorry.””

It’s been nearly two days since you’ve seen or heard from Jamie. You’d practically bolted after your admission, your chest tight with guilt and your hands trembling as you no longer felt worthy of being in his home.

You hadn’t looked back, and he hadn’t stopped you.

It’s all you think about as you sit in the kitchen with your morning coffee, trying your best to catch up on the emails about work that have been piling up while you wallow.

Your work is interrupted when the doorbell rings. 

You immediately think it’s Stevie; she’s been wanting to see you since you had texted and said that you couldn’t even last the night without telling Jamie the truth. You purposefully left out the parts where Jamie pointed out the crocheting for Roman, and the gloves, and the sunhat, and Jamie just noticing you. God knows Stevie will be the first person to jump up and say he’s in love with you, and you’re not ready for that delusion in your head to be spoken out into the universe. 

Especially after Jamie has not spoken to you since. He’s probably freaked out, never wanting to speak to you for as long as he possibly can. 

You close your laptop and head to your front door, not even bothering to check who may be on the other end because—duh—it’s Stevie. 

Only, it’s not her. 

Instead, three boys stand on the opposite end of your door, gaping at you from the moment you lay eyes on them. 

They look vaguely familiar to you, and judging but the sweatsuits they’re wearing with the AFC Richmond logo, they’re Jamie’s teammates. You swallow your anxiety and give them a confused look.

“You’re real,” the man in the middle says, tall and broad with a commanding presence.. 

“Shut up, bruv,” the man to the right elbows the other. “We don’t even know if it’s her. ‘Could be the girl two houses down…”

“Mi amor,” says the final man, eyes light. His warm, melodic voice is unmistakably Spanish, holding up a bottle of wine like a peace offering. “What’s your name?”

You frown, wanting to ask so many questions when a shout intercepts the trio that has lined up at your door. 

“Oi!” 

They boys all turn, and you manage to peek your head out the door, to see Jamie stomping down the steps of his home, clad in sweats and… cow slippers? 

Despite the grumpy set of his face, the sight is almost endearing.

“Jamie!” the trio chorus in unison, like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“You didn’t answer the door,” one of them says, “we figured you’d be at your beautiful lady’s.”

“Don’t mean you can go knocking on doors of people you don’t fucking know,” huffs Jamie, finally reaching them. He doesn’t spare you a glance. 

The boys look ashamed. “We’re sorry, bruv,” says the tallest one, voice gruff and guilty. “Dani made Birria tacos, and Colin’s brought fuzzy socks. I just wanted to say sorry for whacking ya.”

Jamie’s eyes soften at his words. He sighs. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it, I really do. But I stand by what I fuckin’ said. You can’t go knocking at random doors.”

“But it’s not random!” says the boy you’ve deduced to be Colin. For the first time since they’ve knocked, he turns to you in acknowledgement. “It’s lovely to meet you!” 

“The flowers are gorgeous,” says Dani, eyes g;azing dutifully at your front lawn. “And we apologize for the interruption.”

Jamie nods at them, like a mother watching over their child at the playground after a petty fight breaks out. 

You grin, awkwardness dissolvong. “It's okay. And—I love birria tacos, by the way. Good choice.”

Dani blushes. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind sharing it with his lady. Wouldn’t  you, Jamie?”

Jamie sputters, looking between the boys, and sparing you the first glance since he’s got here. His mouth opens, then closes. Repeatedly. 

“Um,” you interject, “I would much rather let Jamie enjoy it. Thank you, though!”

Isaac frowns. “That’s how you’re gonna treat your girl?” he grumbles at Jamie. 

“She said it!” argues Jamie. “Not me!”

Isaac shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about no chivalry these days, but he claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Alright, bruv, we’ll get outta your hair. Just make sure you enjoy the tacos. And, uh…” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, “Be nice to your lady, yeah?”

Jamie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Colin pipes up, “It was lovely meeting you!” His voice is warm and genuine, and he flashes you a smile before jogging after Isaac, who is already halfway down the steps.

Dani lingers a moment longer, holding out the wine bottle to Jamie. “You deserve this,” he says with a knowing smile, his gaze flicking between you and Jamie.

Jamie takes the bottle “Thanks.”

“And don’t worry, we won’t knock on any more random doors. Adiós, mi amigos!” Dani trots after the others.

And then it’s just the two of you.

“‘M really fucking sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t think they’d come knocking at your door when I decided to fucking ignore them.” He stares down at the endearing cow faces at his feet, sighing.

You shrug, a harmless smile tugging at your lips. Jamie looks awfully nervous, which you don’t understand. “Makes sense, honestly. And I don’t mind. Now that you’re here, though, I just wanna ask how you’re doing.”

He looks briefly surprised. “I’m doing alright,” he says eventually. 

“Okay, because I never intend to pry, but I’ve just been pretty worried. And—“

“You don’t need to pretend to care.”

The abruptness of Jamie’s cutoff has you wondering whether or not it actually occurred. His frown, however, only solidifies that those words did indeed come from his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you reply, voice sharper than intended.

“Listen, I was a fuckin’ idiot and a borderline creep to you. When you left, I really thought about it and how fucked up that whole day was. I can’t imagine how it made you feel; being put into a position where you had to be in a relationship with me.”

You frown. You wonder now if this is why Jamie has chosen not to speak to you; if his guilt for the situation has kept him from reaching out. You refuse for that to be a reality. 

“Jamie, are you serious? I just wanted you to be okay! And that’s still what I want for you.”

His eyes peek up from his slippers to you. “… So you don’t hate me?”

You laugh. “I have no reason to hate you, Jamie.”

“You have every reason to believe that I’m a stalker-creep, by the way!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to see you as one?”

“Obviously fucking not!

“Then stop trying to drill it into my head!” you laugh. 

Jamie stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. Finally, he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, softened by the small. And, for the first time in days, the tension between you feels like it’s starting to ease.

“If it’s not obvious,” he begins awkwardly, “I like you. A lot.” He laughs at himself. “Enough to reach stalker status. And clearly my fucking fantasies wanted to take over with me fucking head… but I wanted to do it all the right way. ‘Kinda cheated didn’t I?”

For the first time in two days, the churning in your stomach isn’t anxiety, and instead something entirely more manageable. You grin at him, teasing, “Maybe a little.”

He huffs a laugh, the sound a mix of relief and something hopeful. His eyes meet yours, more sure now, though his voice remains gentle when he says, “I want to do it right. All of it. If you’ll let me.”

The way he looks at you—open, expectant, like he’s giving you the choice and trusting you to give the truest response.

Your smile says everything he needs to know.

(You already know Stevie’s going to lose her mind when you tell her.)

[0mg-bird]

Something Positive- S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Agent Reader

Summary: 99 negative things and 1 positive. How will it ever turn out okay?

Warnings: season 7, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy fear, nausea, mention of miscarriage talks, Spencer being scared and probably says the wrong things 😭 anyway, fluffy, but also depressing themes. I haven’t finished proofreading, oops lol idc.

You’re supposed to know your body and every little change it makes because, well, it’s your body.

So blame this all on your brain that often skips over the small things that it should really pay attention to. You could have suspected this earlier if you would’ve just slowed down for two seconds, but what difference would it make if you came to the conclusion earlier?

Absolutely none.

The test in your hand would still be positive and you would still have the feeling you do now.

A mixture of fear and devastation.

Spencer isn’t in the apartment you just moved into a month ago, he’s at Rossi’s with the rest of the team like you’re supposed to be. But you played the flu card and forced him to go without you. Then you forced yourself to the corner store and bought two pregnancy tests, a back up for good measure. It isn’t needed, the two lines are almost bold as they stare at you. The dates of the calendar back it up, as well as the queasiness about you.

You’re pregnant.

You. You are pregnant.

That can’t be.

You throw away the test, all the evidence goes into the trash and you try to calm your racing heart. You wash your hands and your face, though tears just keep falling no matter what.

This really wasn’t supposed to happen, it shouldn’t be happening. You’re traveling so often for cases, and there’s so much going on with the team. Emily just came back from the dead, literally, that’s already too much to deal with, you don’t need to add anymore stress to the team. You’re no help if you’re pregnant.

Spencer won’t be any help either if his main concern is you.

Staring at your reflection, you suddenly don’t feel real. You rub your eyes and push your hair back, overwhelmed with so many feelings, you can’t distinguish one from the other.

You do know one feeling from the rest.

The urge to bolt.

Blame the hormones, but you quickly leave the bathroom and slip into a pair of shoes, then grab for your coat and keys, and just like that, you’re gone.

Wandering aimlessly, you suck the evening air into your lungs as you walk the streets, past shops and people with different lives. You’re lost in thought, no better than a zombie as you continue to wipe your eyes.

It took you and Spencer long enough to even get together, you just finished placing your things in his apartment, there’s no room for a crib. He has far too many books, he’d have to sacrifice even more space for things a baby needs. The both of you work odd hours and sleep in bad motel rooms and fly all over the country and get shot at. You aren’t an expert but that doesn’t seem healthy.

There is no room for a baby in your life. Period.

The team has only experienced pregnancy with JJ and-

JJ.

Your friend who would know exactly what to do and how to help, the friend you have given the cold shoulder to ever since you found out that she let you mourn Emily, your best friend, for weeks and weeks. She let you cry and talk about how hard things have been for and Spencer, especially Spencer, and she didn’t say a single thing that she knew Emily was okay.

You have a feeling of bitterness now to join your emotion smoothie.

Up ahead, you see a tired mother trying to pull her crying toddler out of a drugstore. Her hair is tied up, she’s tugging at the child, giving up on arguing with him.

You turn around and decide home is actually where you need to be so you don’t vomit up your nerves in public.

When Spencer comes home, you’re sitting at the bottom of the tub, cheek to your knees as the spray of the shower hits you from above. You hear him take off his shoes and coat and walk to the bedroom, more than likely changing. He’s definitely tired.

He knocks on the bathroom door, checking on you.

“Hey, you feeling alright, angel?”

You sigh. He’s so perfect, arguably the best thing that’s ever happened in your life, and you’re going to ruin him with this news.

“I’ll be out in a second.” You call back, smoothing your hands over your hair, then look at the rings on your fingers.

Sliding one from your right hand to your left, you decide your ring finger just is going to stay bare.

“They missed you tonight, Emily said that you call her first if you need anything.” Spencer says as you rub lotion into your skin while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You hum.

“I think she’s just overcompensating, but she means well.” He claims, pulling the covers back.

You can’t tell him tonight, it’s not the right time. Instead you’ll just get some sleep, laying on your side, facing the window. As Spencer lays behind you, you push away his hand that splays on your stomach.

He goes a little stiff with confusion, but holds your hip without question, then whispers he loves you, like he does every night.

You live out a routine for the next following days to come. You wake up tired, you tell Spencer that you never get over the flu easily and that’s why you have the urge to throw up at any given second. When you’re tired of laying on the couch, you go back to work where everyone shares a look at how moody you can be.

“Is everything…okay?”

You look up from the evidence photos to find Hotch.

Most of the team is out all over the town you just got in, trying to solve the disappearance of three young girls.

Hotch suggested you stay at the police station with him for a while, giving Spencer some air after you snapped at him for no apparent reason.

“Everything’s fine.” You say, looking back down at the crime scene pictures.

“Is everything alright with you and Reid?” He pushes.

“Yes, we’re fine. I just hate it when he hovers, drives me crazy.” You huff, not giving him your attention.

Hotch had always been a sort of father to you. Almost like how Gideon was a mentor to Spencer, Hotch tried his hardest not to act like it but he was always very protective of you. No one could really blame him, he helped you through many things over the years, and along the way he became your family. So it makes sense that he’s questioning you now with a furrowed brow.

“I want you to know that if something is going on and you felt like you were alone…you aren’t. The whole team would move mountains for you.” He says in a very fatherly tone, a tone that has always seemed to affect you but never in the way it does now.

You quickly blink away tears and nod. “I just don’t feel well, but I’ll be okay.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and as Hotch looks you over, he proves how good of a profiler he really is. Slowly, he sits at the table and takes the papers from your hand, which is probably good, you’ve been staring at them for too long. Your eyes lift up to him.

“Does Reid know?”

Three words, and you want to flee.

“No.” You say hoarsely.

He nods in understanding. “This isn’t something you can do alone, but I understand if you need some time away to figure things out.”

You wrap your arms around your stomach, something you’ve been doing subconsciously. “This is my job.” You say.

“And it’s really stressful, so if you need some downtime, I’m glad to give it to you.”

Nodding, you understand. “Don’t tell anyone.” You ask of him, knowing he’d never betray you like that.

For two moments, you have a sense of peace.

And then Spencer and Morgan return, causing you to slip a mask back on and pretend you’re fine.

By some miracle, you get through the case and get home without any problems. Spencer on the other hand is convinced that you’re going through a mental break.

“Still tired?” He asks gently, at the end of the week, sitting on the bed and rubbing your leg as you bury yourself in the comforter.

You wordlessly nod, then try to sort out your thoughts.

“Baby?” He calls softly, a name he hardly ever calls you. “I think we should take you to a doctor.”

“Why?” You croak.

You know why. Spencer thinks you’re depressed, which you can’t really blame him, you’ve been laying in bed most of the day, turning your nose up at the idea of food, knowing it will all just make you feel sick. Your boyfriend is a great profiler, he notices your odd behavior these past couple days but he still can’t figure out why.

“I’m…I think they can tell you what’s wrong with you- not that anything is wrong with you but…there’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

Bless him and his softness he unconditionally shows you, but you just don’t have it in you to match his tenderness.

“I’m fine.” You state, tone not meaning it.

Before he can deny it and rub your leg again, you sit up too quickly and flee him, foolishly thinking he’ll stay put. Spencer is a golden retriever, though, so he follows loyally, only for the bathroom door to be slammed in his face.

“I’m concerned about you, okay?” He calls, voice muffled through the wood. “And I get scared when you just brush it off, brush me off.”

You stand at the sink, head drooped. The tears start slow, they fall into the basin. What was wrong with you? You have a man as good as Spencer and you’re ruining everything.

You fall into a dangerous storm of negative thoughts, all aimed at you like it’s target practice. The tears fall much quicker now, hot and sticky, your hand presses to your mouth to keep the sobs away.

Spencer hears you squeak, and immediately opens the door you should have locked.

You turn to face him, dropping the hand to your stomach.

His features twist into something of sadness and utter concern, he’s standing in front of you in just two steps.

“What is it?” He questions, holding your face in his hands, thumbs wiping at your tears. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

You can’t. You have to say it but you can’t.

A breath shutters through you and you shake your head. “Spence.”

“I’m right here, it’s alright.” He promises, so adamant that he can help.

“I…”

“Just breathe-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You’ve never seen him stop talking so fast. His mouth hangs open for a moment, then it closes.

All the years you’ve known Spencer, he’s never been at a loss for words. He’s trying so hard to just say something and he can’t. Maybe it’s the fear in your eyes that has him drawing a blank, maybe it’s the fact that he’s come up with ninety nine possibilities and this is the one he didn’t imagine.

“Okay.” He says after a heavy silence. “Okay, that’s, well it’s definitely something.”

Your tears don’t stop, in fact they might just fall heavier now.

He’s mad- no, he’s upset. He doesn’t want this and now everything is ruined. Your fears are coming true.

You pull his hands from his face, then brush past him.

He calls your name. “Wait, I don’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think about this, I haven’t planned for this yet.”

You pull one of his sweatshirts on and slide into your sneakers, not bothering with the laces before you slip from the apartment with a sense of deja vu, vanishing just like that.

- - - -

You’re not even sure how you got here, you’re sure you look like a wreck, but it’s too late to turn back now.

The door opens and JJ’s face morphs into confusion.

“Hey, Jay.” You try to smile, but when she opens the door wider and pulls you inside so quickly, it’s hard to maintain a composure.

You ramble, she lets you. For ten straight minutes you go on and on about everything, because you’ve had all of these thoughts bottled up and now you resemble something of a ship sinking beneath the waves. You apologize, you’re so sorrowful and tell her how wrong you are for saying all the hurtful things you said to her. She sits beside you on her couch while Will is upstairs with Henry. At some point she starts crying too because that’s what best friends do when their other half is saying she doesn’t know what to do. By the end of the confession and rant, you physically can’t cry anymore and your nose is red, face splotchy, and you just look at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Slowly, she takes your hand and says your name, grounding you.

“No one is going to say this to you so I will.” She says. “You’re not a monster for being scared.”

Your lungs exhale and she continues.

“But all of these concerns are just anxiety, they aren’t real. You can still do your job, the team won’t hate you, you are capable of doing this, life isn’t going to fall apart.”

She’s so sure, you’re practically forced to believe her.

“Spencer.” You mumble, watching as she takes a breath and nods like she knows.

“Reid is…Reid has the highest IQ and still doesn’t know the right thing to say. But this is news you sprung on him and he’s never had to deal with this sort of thing. He’s scared too.” She reminds, a little more honest with her words now that you’ve calmed down.

Just as you open your mouth to say something, her phone rings from its spot on the coffee table.

She squeezes your knee and grabs for it.

“It’s Spencer.” She says before answering it.

You can’t hear exactly all the words he says, but based off JJ’s reaction, he’s clearly panicked.

“Spencer- hey, slow down. It’s okay. No, she’s here with me. She’s fine.”

You feel guilty, so incredibly guilty. You left your cell in the apartment, not bothering to bring it with you, and the idea of Spencer freaking out because he has no way of reaching you, has your stomach churning.

Or maybe it’s the fact you’re starving.

Canons of your self destruction fire off at yourself, you’re sitting with your head hung as JJ talks him down. This wasn’t her job, this was yours. He’s your partner.

What are you doing?

As she hangs up, she gives you look, knowing you’re already heading for the door.

“Be easy on him, okay?” She says, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright.”

What a simple thing for her to say and a not so simple thing to do.

You go home, trying to rehearse conversations in your head. Surely, you look odd on the subway, whispering to yourself, trying to anticipate what Spencer will say. A few people shuffle off at a stop, and the seat across from you opens up. A woman takes it, she has a baby wrapped in a sling, it’s napping with its head on her bust and when she pulls the cover back, you can see it’s perfect round head. She gently strokes its fuzzy, brown hair and hushes it softly when it stirs.

Maybe life wouldn’t be so bad if that were you, feeling your child’s warmth.

When you get to the front door of your apartment, you take in one final breath and decide you can face the music.

You open the door, kick off your shoes and are immediately feel the rug getting yanked out from under you.

“You can’t just storm out!” Spencer says rather loudly, giving the reaction you didn’t want. “And leaving your phone here? Giving me no way to reach you? I called everyone!”

He’s angry.

“I was with JJ.” You say softly.

“Well, I know that now.” He huffs.

Shrugging off your coat, you gently approach.

“I’m sorry I worried you, please don’t shout.”

At your meek tone, Spencer immediately softens, scorning himself for being abrasive. He runs his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes, trying to get himself back in check.

“I’m sorry. Can- can we just sit down and talk about this, please?” He asks, moving to sit on the worn couch.

After a second, you follow.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to reach out and touch you, but given the way you seem to shrink into yourself, he just rubs his knees over and over again.

“How long have you known?” He asks, though he has some estimates.

You slowly breathe out. “A couple weeks.”

His lungs burn. A couple weeks?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your fingernails dig into your palms. “I was scared…I’m still scared.” And all that work to avoid his eye, you finally meet that puppy dog look of his and immediately break down.

You just can’t seem to stop crying. Why are you crying all the time?

“I’m so scared, Spencer, I’m so scared.” You shudder out, and those hands he awkwardly kept to himself are now pulling you to him, cradling your head to his chest and putting your legs in his lap.

“Hey, I know, I know. And I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, I made it worse, I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair before moving his lips to your forehead. “I was surprised is all.”

“You aren’t mad at me?” You tremble, gripping his shirt. Never in your life have you been this clingy, and if the circumstances were different, you’d be embarrassed by this child like behavior. Spencer doesn’t mind it at all, he’s holding you like he’s the glue keeping you together.

“I’m not mad. I’m a little sad you didn’t tell me sooner, but I’m not mad. Why would I be mad at you?”

With his fingers in your hair, you take a few quick breaths. “I ruined everything.” You say as a cry.

He hates those words that just came out of your mouth.

Spencer shifts, pulling back to look at your face, red and tear streaked.

“Hey.” He coos. “You haven’t ruined anything, sweetheart, don’t even think that.”

Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you shake your head. “My career is over, the team is going to be inconvenienced, and you- you’re never going to be able to do your job the same. All the work you’ve done, it’s just ruined, I’ve done this to you.”

He cups your damp cheek. “Stop, stop. Listen to me, can you do that?”

You shut your mouth and nod.

“Good.” He says. “Now, you haven’t done anything wrong. It takes two to tango, yeah? The team is going to be elated, Penelope is going to throw this biggest party ever. We worked it out when JJ had Henry, we can do it again.”

There’s a way he can say all these things and it just makes sense in your mind. You nod along, this makes him smile.

“And as for me..” He tucks hair behind your ear. “I would give up all my degrees, I’d throw away all the progress and work I’ve done if it meant the only thing I had in my life was you and a baby that’s my own.”

You love him. You’ve never loved him more than you do now, in this moment, starving and crying and so scared. That’s why you lean forward and press your trembling lips to his, trying to steal the oxygen from his lungs.

Spencer is willing to breathe into your open mouth, even if it meant he’s have no part of himself left that was just his. In his mind, he doesn’t want Spencer to be Spencer, he wants your imprint in every part of himself so he’s no longer just him.

He kisses your hairline and then places your back in that space between his collar bone and jaw, it’s carved only for you anyway.

“Tell me everything that scares you.” He instructs, finger circling your bent knee.

You can’t say ‘everything’, so you say what you can form into words.

“It’s so soon, we haven’t talked about this yet.” You start.

“It’s a little early, but we have a home and a stable income and I love you and I want this if you want this.” He says so simply, as if he’s bandaging a paper cut.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I could be really bad at it.” You state.

“We’ll figure it out together, I don’t know what to do either, but no one really does. But there is no way you will be a bad mom. That’s my professional opinion.”

You laugh lightly, he grins and subtly squeezes you.

“But what if it all goes bad? What if I can’t make it healthy, what if I…what if I lose it? Spencer, I don’t think I could live with myself if I was the reason you don’t get a living, breathing baby.” It hurts your chest to even say.

Spencer gently shushes you. “We won’t let that happen. We’ll make sure you’re healthy and doing everything you can to prevent that.”

You let that ease you into silence, then you wipe your eyes once more because you can’t stop crying.

“We’re not married.”

Did you say that out loud?

You must have because Spencer hums, not startled, but he mulls it over in his head.

“Does that matter to you?” He asks, genuinely curious. And you don’t know how to answer because you didn’t think it did.

But you said it, it’s been on your mind…so yeah, it might matter.

“Yeah, I guess…I don’t know.” You sigh, nudging your nose against his neck.

Spencer considers it, then hums like he does when he understands something. “Then we’ll get married.”

It’s the way he says it, so easy, makes you shake your head. “No, I don’t want you to marry me just because I’m pregnant now. Besides, planning a whole wedding is stressful.”

“That’s not why I said it, lovely. Yeah, we’re having this conversation because you’re pregnant but I want to marry you because it means something to me too. I don’t want to do life with anybody else besides you.” He states, dropping his chin to the top of your head, keeping you close to his pulse. “And a big wedding isn’t our style anyway. We can go to the courthouse right now if it’s what you want. Tomorrow you’ll have your name changed- or keep it, if that’s what you want.”

How perfect, how wonderful he is, and how lucky you are to be doing this with him.

Breathing in his scent once again, you nod. “I want to have the same last name as our baby. Oh god, our baby. That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever said.” You gently laugh.

“I like hearing it, though.” He says, a boyish smile, though he’s never been more of a man than in this moment.

You didn’t think your day would end like this, and perhaps this decision isn’t properly thought out, but the two of you want this.

You make it to the courthouse house just as they’re about to close, with the flashes of your credentials, they make a few exceptions. You don’t have rings, that part will get figured out later, and you there’s no grand catering, just Chinese food on the living room floor. It’s all perfect though, because you’re married and so in love with him and he��s giving you the last egg roll.

“You know, I didn’t think it was possible to be so hungry and nauseous at the same time.” You say, slurping up a noodle, washing it down with a Coke.

“You know, the fetal placenta produces a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin that’s rapidly increasing, and if the mother is more sensitive to it, then they’re more nauseous.” Spencer states factually, proud that his knowledge applies to this.

“How do I cure it, Doctor?” You ask, a fond smile on your face.

“Don’t skip meals, like you have been doing. No more of that. We’re going to have to call your doctor tomorrow, and start prenatal vitamins. You know, if we push the dresser into the closet and shift the brown bookshelf over a few feet, that will free up space for a crib. You’ll want a side sleeper bassinet though, it slides right next to the bed so you don’t have to get out of bed as often.”

Having a baby with Doctor Spencer Reid was like having the next nine months planned out for you. As he rambles on with all the things that will need to be done, you laugh and lean over, kissing him to get him to pause.

“What was that for?” He asks, kissing you once more.

“I love you, that’s all.” I smile.

Tracing your jawline with his finger, he grins right back at you. “I love you too.”

After a moment, you speak again. “Am I a doctor now?” You ask.

“What? No.” He shakes his head.

“I’m technically Mrs. Doctor Reid.”

“Angel.” He laughs.

“That’s Doctor Angel to you.”

[readngandweepng]

afab!leon s. kennedy x top male reader

note: no pronouns for reader but written with a male in mind. not proofread whatsoever i couldnt bring myself to reread this lmfao. reader is kind of both a sub and dom, same with leon. i had no idea where i was going with this so strap in. also sorry to the anon that asked me to tag afab characters i didnt see the ask till now oops :(

leon’s hovering over you, your cock halfway inside him. his hands are on either side of you, alongside his legs that lay on each side of your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. slowly rocking his hips, the tip of your cock brushes gently against his walls. he lets out a shivery breath with every twitch of his hips. your eyes are locked into his deep stare, his blue eyes are hazy with lust. you can tell he’s fighting to keep them open—his eyes glossing over every time your hips jerk into his was indication enough. he could handle this. this is nothing, he can keep his composure perfectly fine. one jerk in particular, however, suddenly lands your cock inside of him completely and he chokes on a moan in an attempt to quiet himself, his eyes shutting momentarily before snapping back open to look into yours once more.

he swallows thickly before speaking, the tension in his voice evident. “that was dirty.” leon’s voice is somewhat crackly, but a welcome change in contrast to the stark silence of your bedroom. the smile he receives from you is irritating. though never explicitly stated, he knows what you’re trying to do. your fingers graze his skin, dancing around his waist, making his stomach cave and his pussy flutter. he internally curses at himself for letting weak touches get such a rise out of him, and before he can spit at you with a snide remark you lift your hips off the bed with purpose, a quick but deep thrust directly against his sweet spot. he almost buckles, a low moan slips from his lips as he grips onto the sheets under his hands. you chuckle, brushing his hair away that was sticking to the sweat of his forehead, revealing eyes that burn with ire. 

“stop it.” he says curtly. his body is completely still, almost afraid to move in fear of what his body would do in response. this kind of unpredictability was foreign, and leon wasn’t about to let you win this nascent fight. 

“why should i?” you say, not even bothering to hold back the same facetious smile. “afraid you’ll crack?” 

courageously, leon moves so that you have to raise your head up to look at him. you can tell the minor adjustment gives leon back some of his lost confidence when he takes your hands off of him and presses them down against the bed by the wrist, using the leverage to lift himself off and back onto your cock at a steady pace. leon is stone-faced, taking you with newfound resolve. breaking eye-contact, you admire his glistening body and the way he ungracefully bounces on your dick. the sight makes you groan, your face hot with reverence for leon and the sight he beholds. you can’t quite pinpoint his goal; does he want to break you? or better yet does he want to break you before you can break him? 

“holding me down is cheating,” you laugh breathlessly and it sends a shiver down leon’s spine, causing him to twitch around you (much to his chagrin). you don’t mean it, but your words make him speed up, your hips clashing together with fervor.

you can see now leon’s attempt to keep himself composed. his breath occasionally hitching, his grip on your wrists tightening when he feels like he’s about to lose it. he sighs deeply, barely able to keep his moans under wraps. his head lolls forward, his eyes shut tight. he’s so wrecked right now you could probably push him onto his back and fuck him until he can’t take it anymore, but you let him have this control, regardless of how fast it’s unraveling with every thrust of your cock inside him. 

“come on, leon.” you coo at him, his head raising momentarily to glare at you before falling forward back into place with a shaky breath. “look at yourself, you can barely keep yourself steady.” he shakes his head, a hand releasing one of your wrists and going over your mouth. with what you can, you lift yourself up to kiss his neck and caress his hip with your free hand. whether he realized it or not, he rests his body against yours and lets his arms wrap around you. his nails immediately dig into your skin as you move him up and down your cock. his face is tucked into your neck, muffling the moans that are pulled out of him when he’s slammed down onto your dick. 

with one last thrust leon convulses around your cock. you follow suit, cumming inside of him. you open your mouth to speak but leon once again slaps a hand onto your mouth, his words sharp but concise, “don’t say a word.” your smile grows beneath his palm and he rolls his eyes, planting an indirect kiss atop his clasped hand. 

[puckinghischier]

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

~

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could hear her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

[from-izzy]

sip and learn | the boyz kim sunwoo

“Got you a morning drink,” rattling the ice inside the cylinder and putting it where his mark prettily shows. “Probably should put it on there. They say it’s good to ice your bruises.”

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » situationship au, non-idol au

genre »​ mildly suggestive (as compared to this), a bit of fluff...?, sunwoo likes to tease the reader who is in denial :D, flirty sunwoo and reader who is not to resistant to it, whipped kim sunwoo

word count, estimated reading time » 2407, ~9 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » suggestive!!, dom! sunwoo (and flustered reader), kissing and making out, they're in public but no one is around, dirty/suggestive talking (allusions to s*x), sunwoo kind of pulls the reader to his lap and carries you, sunwoo giving you a drink through kissing you, marking (sunwoo to reader), pet name (baby girl, baby boy), swearing, dirty minded sunwoo (oop), sunwoo is physically bigger and taller, rapid proofread a couple of times

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist

...hm-

Finally.

It turns out that universities do care about some of their students’ health after all. After a gruelling non-stop six weeks' worth of content, you're finally excited to not only catch up on some of the work you don't manage to touch but also that you won't have to watch lectures that seem like carbon copies of your textbook. In addition to that, you also get the choice to stay indoors all week which is a dream for all overworked students. 

Sitting in a slightly quiet area under the trees accompanied by your friend is one of the best ways to end the tiring six weeks. All is nice and cool as you let the wind brush against your skin, sighing at the temperature. Your friend follows you shortly after but disrupts the peace with a question.

The tip of her shoe hits yours, “So, how was the date?”

The implying tone from your relaxed best friend caused you to roll your eyes, “It wasn’t a date. It was just a hangout.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” she agreed sarcastically. “How many times did you kiss him while you were at it?” 

The information was about to spill out from your mouth without a second thought. You were so close to embarrassing yourself with the fact that you were not only all over Kim Sunwoo’s lips yesterday, but all around that annoyingly handsome face of his and slightly down his neck. The heat rises to your cheek but you play it cool by shrugging your shoulders, pushing last night’s events to the back of your head. 

The way you responded only elicits an amused chuckle from your best friend. She knows you're avoiding the truth. “Stop pretending not to be in love with him,” she sighs. “Your denial is getting so damn embarrassing.” 

You relaxed your eyelids close once more, focusing on nature instead with your palms behind your back to lean. “It's not embarrassing because I'm not even in denial about that loser.”

You allow yourself to ramble some more, listing points to prove to her that you're not in love with the man. Usually, your friend would give you unconvincing hums which you're now used to. But the lack of response from her made you uneasy, as even though you had your eyes closed, the image of her raised eyebrows and the corner of her lips slightly raised is clear in your mind. 

That is the expression you're greeted with when you bring yourself back to reality. However, her eyes were nowhere near you, a mischievous smile growing bigger at the sight of a familiar person approaching you from behind. Your eye twitches, knowing exactly who it was. You dusted the sand and dirt remnants from your palm, ready to stand up to your feet when a force behind weights you back down.

You yelp slightly at the force, your now dirty palms again stopping you face planting to the Earth.

“Kim fucking Sunwoo!” You called out the man who secured his hold around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Get off me, you fucking stink.”

“Really?” The boy does the opposite, sitting down and spreading his legs beside your thighs, pulling you closer to his chest. “Last time I checked I smelled pretty good.”

He does. You're not going to admit that though. 

“Yeah, maybe after spending time at a rubbish bin.”

Your friend couldn't help but snicker at that. She wonders if you would give the poor boy a break sometime but seeing you both like this, obviously love sick for each other, she chose to make this her everyday entertainment. 

“Okay,” your friend collected her things. “I'll see you soon,” winking at you. “And you,” pointing at Sunwoo, “Please use protection.”

“Hey!”

“Will do!”

You whip your head back to Sunwoo’s sharp jawline, slapping his arm at the comment. When your friend was comfortably out of space, a finger traced along the front of your bra’s underband. The courageous touch in public made you yelp a little. Your reaction didn’t faze him at all because he predicted it all; you fold with even the smallest touch of him after all. 

“Feeling sensitive, baby girl?” The airyness of his husky voice sent chills down your spine. It also sent your stomach doing flips and your hands stopped slapping him for a change. 

“No,” you answer softly. Trying to push off is futile as you learnt from past events and so you let him win, taking a mental note to lecture him later.

“Baby girl…” the tip of his nose brushes along the underside of your jawline, shuddering at the light touch as he just ghosts over your slowly heating skin. 

Though tight, your lips displayed a smile. From the corner of your eye, you know he’s enjoying the situation, “In front of everyone?” Turns out you couldn’t keep your question for later. 

“There's literally no one here,” you felt his shoulders shrug. An arm stays secure around your waist, the other guiding your chin to face him. “You smell delicious,” the whisper hits the shell of your ear so gracefully that your gulp becomes audible. 

Sunwoo doesn't bother hiding the fact that he's focused on your lips, licking his own as he struggles to keep himself from tasting you. While his index and thumb keep you still, his other fingers brush against your skin intricately. The smooth motions contrast his darkening orbs. You’re in fear that you will fold for him in public now.

You are not going to be defeated by Kim Sunwoo. Not when he made you fold for him hard yesterday.

But it’s unfortunate for you that he knows exactly what you’re thinking of.

Sunwoo turns your head away from your alluring lips as he has other plans for now. His supple lips land on the side of your neck and he starts to suck on your skin. You expected just a peck, especially with the setting, but it became clear to you that nothing mattered to him. 

Whimpering moans slip out of your lips and Sunwoo smiles momentarily at the beginning of his work on the crook of your neck before going back in. At first, he’s disappointed that no one is staying for the show but then it gives him all the more reason to gape his lips and suck on your skin.

“Sunwoo-” You gasp out as your palm is back to giving him a physical reminder on his arm around your middle. “Fucking hell…”

He hums against your skin before pulling away, licking his lips at the subtle mark he left on you. Needless to say, you won’t be able to cover that up with your clothing. The lovesick boy doesn’t stop there when he directs your eyes back to lock his, sending you a message that makes your body slightly shudder. You weren’t sure what the gaze meant but all you knew was that it was the same look he gave after he would kiss you breathless; just like last night.

His hand retracts yet you don’t dare to break the eye contact. Knowing that he had an effect on you, Sunwoo maintained it, feeling slightly competitive about how you’re not backing down, not even looking at his plump lips. Sunwoo blindly reaches to the inside of his bag beside him, cluttering around until he finds the icy-cold cylinder that he bought for you earlier on.

“Got you a morning drink,” rattling the ice inside the cylinder and putting it where his mark prettily shows. “Probably should put it on there. They say it’s good to ice your bruises.”

The mention of a new mark made you lose the unspoken game as you used your front camera like a mirror. You didn’t even need to crane or tilt your neck too far to see what he was talking about and at the top corner of the screen, you could also see the start of a smirk growing on his face.

“Kim Sunwoo!” It’s so obvious, brighter than the sunlight above you. “I swear, Kim Sunwoo…” Glaring at the radiant man through your phone.

“Oh!” He exclaimed before snatching your phone. “You should take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Sunwoo kept his locking hold around your waist, positioning your phone closer to the sky. He takes a couple with varying angles and closeness, as well as how close his lips were to your heating skin. You jolt at the innocent kisses he left, leaving supple traces of his love and his breathy chuckle made you relax against his chest. “Now the two sides of your neck are matching.”

The image of last night flashes. The way Sunwoo cupped your cheeks, discarding his ice cream when he chose to lick the remnants of yours from your lips. The way he held the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to the point that you eventually sat on his strong, bulky thighs. The way he foreshadows the darker kiss mark on your neck when he moves his mouth across the side of your face, going off track with your jawline before rerouting to his main aim. The smacking of each other’s lips grew louder as the makeout session turned more intense. How his finger slowly lifted the skirt you were wearing, shuddering at the cold wind and the tiny circles that glided across your skin. Last night, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, was amazing.

You hope it was the same for him too.

The plastic seal clicks and is broken, pulling you back into reality. “Drink this,” he beams after chuckling at the way you look at him half-dazed. “I think you’ll like this.”

“Absolutely not,” swatting the drink away from you and keeping your ground. “You probably put shit in it.”

“Baby girl,” Sunwoo warns, voice lowering. Before you knew it, Sunwoo leans forward to slither an arm below the back of your knee, twirling you and resting your legs onto his thigh. This position made it easier for him to see you now that half your face was easily within his view. “It wasn’t a question,” he says as his palm holds a thigh, fingers spreading to increase his presence on your body. “You will like this.”

Another eyebrow raises and an inaudible shake of your head is what you give him.

His scoff resonates and hits you. You thought you won when he gulped the beverage himself and for a second, your muscles relaxed and a grin stretched across your lips. Your relief goes undetected by him because as soon as he feels the way your body reacts to him gulping his efforts for you, his palm that was once on your thigh slips down to one of your lower cheeks to remind you who has always had the upper hand between you both.

Your eyes widen at his gesture and to make things worse, Sunwoo leaves one last mouthful of the drink before he securely attaches his lips to yours. He angles his head down and tilts your neck up, something that he never does and the difference in routine alarms you. You end up understanding what he’s doing because with the betrayal of your lips parting when Sunwoo’s thumb nudges your chin down, with the help of gravity, he opens his mouth and empties the drink to you. He chases your lips at your surprise and holds you close to prevent you from pulling away. Some escapes from the corner of your lips that never fully touched his but he wipes it skillfully with the pad of his thumb, making a trail of the sweet tea, dripping from your jawline to where he kissed you earlier and letting your clothes suck up all of his glory. The way he cups your face, gently resting the apple of your cheek while his lips move slowly is all intimate to you, reaching out to his wrist for stability. 

When his mouth is empty, Sunwoo pulls away and your neck relaxes. The look of surprise on your face is entertaining and his bangs fall attractively in front of his cunning eyes. After moving back a bit, he sees how your cheeks are not fully empty. “Swallow,” he orders, brushing his thumb on the sensitive spot of your neck. “Like every single time you’ve done for me, baby girl.” No one could see the images that played in your head but the flashes only ran faster and more intense with his raised eyebrow.

Despite your self-talk not to let him win, you obeyed.

You gulp at the way he phrases his words for you, complimenting you on something that is human nature. The flavoured drink runs down your throat smoothly, the back of your hand wiping any remnants on your lower face. It wasn’t long until you realised that yet again, Kim Sunwoo was right: you did like the beverage; and maybe something else that he did along with that. Your tongue pokes out between your lips, savouring the taste and you had to stop yourself from going on your toes to chase his lips for some more.

“Good,” he praises you. “Was that so hard, hm?” 

“You’re insane, Kim Sunwoo.” 

“Ah yes,” Sunwoo nods proudly. “Or you could just say you liked what I did.”

As if you would. “Ok now, let me go, you dick.” 

The mention of the body part only made it worse for you and he didn’t bother masking his dirty idea to you. To the public, he looked like an abandoned puppy, kicked and forgotten on the street with his eyes wide open, begging for some love and care for anyone who passed by. His lower lips jutted out despite the scowl on your face.

“I’m just a boy…” His words trailing off towards the end. “Your baby boy…” The mention of the nickname you reserve only for him lands him a smack on his broad chest. 

“You’re literally twen-”

“Just a boy,” he repeated before wiggling his eyebrows. “You need to take care of me,” his palm on your lower body moves once more, reminding you that he has never let you go. “Next time you should’ve just sipped the drink, but now?” Effortlessly, Sunwoo held your flustered figure in his arms while you naturally clung your arms around his neck as he raised and began walking towards his car. “You get to learn.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist

tags: @deoboyznet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @sanaxo-o @hursheys

[loaksky]

no thoughts other than professor!abby / coworker!abby and the holiday stocking ! this is like 80 percent backstory bc who am i to not blabber about my new favorite trope...full length fic abt them in the works oops! not proofread + no warnings other than language!

tlou masterlist | main masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔ first let’s set the scene by establishing that abby’s probably a tenure-track professor in a hyper specific literature study or maybe cross-teaches a course or two in the women and gender studies department. you’re a new educator probably teaching english 101?

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby first sees you at the faculty meeting for her department during the late summer and is immediately enamored.

⋆.ೃ࿔ by some stroke of luck, she finds that she’s been assigned to your neighboring office and her final lecture is held in the hall across from yours.

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby’s usually pretty good about the timing of her lectures and she ends up finishing 10-15 minutes early every session. so sometimes she hears the tail end of your lessons and can’t help but think you’re so fucking brilliant.

⋆.ೃ࿔ the students are taken by you too, usually not paying any mind to professors that teach lower level classes, but you’re animated and hands-on, and abby realizes that maybe she should take a page from your book.

⋆.ೃ࿔ literally can’t work up the courage to say anything to you first and is so surprised when she’s having an internal warfare one day while she’s locking up the lecture hall and you slink past her.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!”

⋆.ೃ࿔ nearly short circuits because how in the fuck do you know her name? (hint hint: you haven’t been able to get a grip after seeing her in the same faculty meeting she’d basically fallen head over heels for you at).

⋆.ೃ࿔ for the life of her, can’t get her shit together over the weekend. is so scatterbrained because the hot new professor knows her name?? practically spirals because that means that she’s been perceived and she has no idea if it’s a good or bad thing because what do you think of her ???

⋆.ೃ࿔ runs into you bright and early monday morning as she’s about to duck into her office and she wants to make a beeline for the safety of her ergonomic chair, but you look a little frazzled and she’s speaking before she can stop herself.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “everything alright?” she asks as you miss the slot for the keyhole a few times and blow out a shaky sigh.

⋆.ೃ࿔ notices you’re carrying a fuckton of things and is wordlessly grabbing your stack of folders and taking your heavy knapsack from you as you finally get the key in the keyhole.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “thank you so much,” you say, voice thick with unshed tears. “i just, fuck, shit, sorry, that wasn’t professional—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and she could melt because you’re so cute.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “i don’t think i saved the form for midterm grades on my laptop and the battery just crapped out on me, and i’m pretty sure i just missed the deadline and—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “hey, breathe, breathe,” abby says gently, hands involuntarily smoothing over your shoulders. “you’re okay, it’s okay. shit happens.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “god, i’m such a idiot.” you scrub your hands down your face. “the upper level professors were right, i do suck—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “whoa, whoa,” abby calls out sternly, expression horrified. “who said that?”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s not important,” you whisper, blowing out another breath and squeezing your eyes shut as you shake your hands to try to calm yourself. “they’re not wrong.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “who.” and abby is no longer asking, arms bulging in her oxford shirt as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares down at you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and mr. ruiz,” you say quietly, fidgeting under such a steely gaze.

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby just makes a noise in her throat, uncrosses her arms and tilts her head towards your desktop computer.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “if you were working on the submission form on your faculty account, it automatically syncs to the cloud both on and offline,” she says. “there’s usually a grace period until the final scheduled lecture for the day which is in...” she glances at her wrist watch, “in about an hour.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re rounding your desk, practically throwing yourself in your chair as you boot up the computer and log into your faculty portal. your cheeks are flushed warm and eyes wide as your gaze flits across the screen.

⋆.ೃ࿔ you deflate in relief after a few clicks to find that professor anderson’s absolutely correct, and there’s the form in all it’s glory, cursor blinking and ready to be completed and submitted.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “holy shit, thank you so much,” you whisper.

⋆.ೃ࿔ when you look up, she’s already stormed halfway out of your office.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and i would just like to extend a sincere apology for our words regarding your tenure here,” mr. ruiz says after they corner you in the staffroom a few mornings later.

⋆.ೃ࿔ your eyebrows are knitting together momentarily before it dawns on you like a splash of cold water.

⋆.ೃ࿔ it explains why professor anderson had been in such a hurry to leave your office after assisting you a few mornings ago.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “s’okay,” you shrug.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s really not,” dr. paige says. “it was immature and uncalled for to make such comments, and such shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ a sudden movement outside of the window catches your eye, and you’re grinning when you see the familiar flash of dirty blonde.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “really, it’s no hard feelings,” you assure them. “now if you’ll excuse me.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re breaking away from them to duck out of the staffroom and surprise surprise, abigail anderson is standing a few metres from the door, arms crossed over her chest.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “are you eavesdropping dr. anderson?” you tease.

⋆.ೃ࿔ she doesn’t even bother to hide it, answering with a firm and resounding, “yes.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ that earns a full-bellied laugh out of you and she realizes that she’s so fucking whipped.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “you’re a wonderful professor,” abby assures you. “your students love you and you’ve already accomplished such great things in the department.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you can’t help but flush and an awkward but cute silence dawns the two of you after you murmur a quiet “thank you”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “where’s your next session?” dr. anderson breaks the ice. “i’ll walk you.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ the two of you end up getting a lot closer over the rest of the semester and abby starts to get a little frustrated with herself for waiting for so long to actually talk to you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ because you’re practically perfect; so sweet, insanely intelligent, and it’s just the icing on top that you’re probably one of the prettiest girls she’s ever seen and you’ve got an equally pretty ass to match (abby is an ass girl IDC !)

⋆.ೃ࿔ heart is in shambles because you’ve learned how she likes her coffee and frequently bring her one first thing before your string of lectures start.

⋆.ೃ࿔ also, more often than not, the two of you are spending lunch hours together whether you’re grabbing a quick bite from one of the dining halls, splurging a little to eat lunch at an actual establishment, or killing time at the nearby bookstore a few blocks from the campus center.

⋆.ೃ࿔ long story short, you and abby have been spending so much time together and she knows she really likes you, but she can’t find it in herself to say anything because she doesn’t wanna scare you off with such a strong bout of emotions.

⋆.ೃ࿔ but literally everyone sees it! and it’s not necessarily that you’re oblivious, but abby’s accomplished, a really well-loved professor by both the department and her students, and even if there isn’t a ring on her finger, you’re convinced that abby’s got to have someone special in her life...it’s literally you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ even the students see it! dr. anderson’s been lagging recently during her last time slot and it doesn’t take long for a few students who love her especially so to see the way it takes her a little while longer to pack up and how she lingers out in the hall as your class ends!

⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!” her last two students chime as they part ways with her. one of them glances over his shoulder and sees you filing out with a group of students from the adjacent classroom. “good luck.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and abby’s beet fucking red when you finally lock up and ask her what that was about.

⋆.ೃ࿔ fast forward to now, it’s the final week before students are set to go home for the holidays and she’s a little down in the dumps because not only will she not get to see you for almost a month, but she’s usually alone this time of year and it’s agonizing to think that maybe you’ll be going home to someone else.

⋆.ೃ࿔ unbeknownst to her, you’ve been really nervous because maybe you’d overheard her talking to an adjunct professor, owen, about how she’d never gotten a personalized stocking made for her in response to seeing the one hanging on his shelf that his wife and kid had made for him this year, and perhaps you’d watched a couple youtube videos on stocking decorating and went out to buy the supplies right after.

⋆.ೃ࿔ admittedly, the last few days, the two of you are distant, her because she’s sad, and you because you’re probably spending every waking moment trying to think of ways to make the stocking perfect and you’re so in your head that you don’t even notice her change in demeanor.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and you try to make it perfect, really want abby to love her gift, so you fiddle around with it until the last possible moment.

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re also nervous as fuck as you peer over your shoulder thursday afternoon, hoping dr. anderson doesn’t catch you in the act of staging her gift because frankly you’re too shy to give it to her.

⋆.ೃ࿔ even though you and dr. anderson are on great terms, she’s still so intimidating and you don’t trust yourself to make an ass of yourself, so you relay your message through a pretty piece of cardstock and tuck it into the bag before you’re scurrying off for the end of the semester.

⋆.ೃ࿔ finally, it’s the final day that campus will be open and abby’s trudging up to her office, only really intending to gather the last of what she’ll need since the buildings will be locked throughout the duration of holiday break, but she’s stopped dead in her tracks when she sees the sizable gift bag hanging on her doorknob.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “what that—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ she’s carefully moving around the tissue paper and her heart catches in her throat when she sees a blue stocking bulging with different treats and even a book! with her name carefully stitched on the band.

⋆.ೃ࿔ her first knee jerk reaction is that maybe owen pitied her and made her one, but a matching blue envelope catches her eye and she’s fishing it out of the bag.

⋆.ೃ࿔ recognizes your handwriting from the whiteboards when she’s stealing peeks into your classroom.

⋆.ೃ࿔ cheeks are flaming and stomach is tying in knots as she reads your note.

⋆.ೃ࿔ Firstly, I’m really disappointed I couldn’t deliver this to you in person, but my flight leaves for home on Friday... :( Nonetheless, you’ve been such a wonderful office neighbor and even more wonderful colleague. I truly can’t string together an adequate way to express how grateful I am to work alongside someone as kind and thoughtful as you, Dr. Anderson. You’ve quickly become such a dear friend and I hope you have a wonderful holiday! See you next year! ˆ<3

⋆.ೃ࿔ the fucking heart...the fucking heart!!! literally it’s all abby can fixate on before she realizes that there’s an ass of things tucked in the stocking and not only did you take the time to handstitch onto the fabric, but you took the time to gather things she didn’t even realize you knew she liked.

⋆.ೃ࿔ is unlocking her office so that she can pour the contents of the stocking onto her desk and she nearly dissipates into a pile of goo right then and there because there’s a few packs of her favorite gum (wintergreen), a set of her absolute favorite ballpoint pens (because gel pens are too runny for her liking), a giftcard to her usual coffee shop (“since I won’t be there to bring you your order” according to the note scrawled on the holder), a thick pair of argyle socks in her favorite colorway, and finally, there’s an annotated version of this is how you lose the time war.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and it has to mean something; your book choice and how you raved about it weeks prior during an excursion with abby to the public library, and you’d pulled the copy off the shelf and asked her if she’d read it.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “no,” she answered simply. “never caught my eye.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “you should read it,” you’d said quietly. “their love was beautiful.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and she’d never admit it, but she’d checked it out the following morning and blew through the book so fast, heart pounding in her chest as she realized that it was about two women in love. and, god, this has to mean something, she’d continue to agonize, even until this current moment.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and here an annotated version sits, your thoughts and inner feelings inking the pages. it makrs abby bubble with equal parts hope and sadness. sadness because it seems like way too long until she’ll see you again, and hope because maybe this means something more for the two of you in the future.

⋆.ೃ࿔ who knows, really. but abby’s certain that this holiday will feel a little less lonelier with her heart a lot more fuller.

neng © 2023

[amourjins]

✦ LATE NIGHT WALK? — k.mj

summary. a late night walk with your best friend, minji! ..except, theres a twist.

pair. non-idol!bsf!minji x fem!reader

content ahead. fluff, (best) friends-to-lovers, wlw, GAYS!!!!, theyre both silly, just a small bit of texting!

notes. RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA who couldve guessed! surprise !! take this while you wait for tg…cause ive been procrastinating it a LOT…. (not proofread as we all know.. i proofread on a good day [which is never])

you lie awake in bed as the time read 12:37. you sighed, you didnt want to go to sleep, but you didnt have anything else to do, either.

until, that is, you felt your phone vibrate—a notification. you first shrugged it off, thinking it was some random app you didnt use anymore, but was way too lazy to delete it. after a few seconds, you decided to see what it was, and to your surprise, the notification was a text from your the one and only, kim minji! aka your best(est) friend (ever).

you could feel your tiredness just disappear all in the span of that minute.

you immediately got up from bed once you hearted the text, turning the lights on as you walked to your closet. you didnt want to keep minji waiting, so you figured you would just keep it casual with a shirt and jeans or something.

once you finally got ready, you did some finishing touches before grabbing your phone and bag, and dashing out of there excitedly. when you exited your apartment complex, there she was, in all her glory—minji!

“minji-ah!” you whisper-shouted as you swore she turned her head to you in the blink of an eye. she took her hands out of her pockets and waved at you, smiling brightly. you rushed over, embracing her in a hug as she froze, blushing a little.

“hi!—” she giggled before hugging you back tightly. you let go after a few seconds, making her pout. you didnt notice, though. you were too busy looking around the streets of seoul, wondering where you two should head first.

“mm, follow me!” you spoke, which caught the tall girl off guard, but she immediately followed after you, catching up as she walked beside you. the night sky always had you mesmerized.. but there something—someone else that had you even more mesmerized.

and it was minji.

maybe you started to develop feelings for her over these past few months with her…

you were pretty much certain that she didnt like you back. and as much as that hurt, you had to deal with it. being best friends with her is enough already, and youre grateful. but at the same time, what if she liked you back? it would.. yeah itd probably hurt to confess. but it was now or never, right? now just seemed like the perfect moment.

“crosswalk, idiot!” she reminded as she halted your movements, making you snap out of your thoughts. “oops!.. sorry,” you looked away in embarrassment as she scoffed jokingly.

you silently turned your head back to her. she was looking at the sky, and the scenery around. god, she was insanely pretty. prettier than the scenery around. prettier than anything around.

you tapped her shoulder to get her attention once you were able to cross as you two crossed the street together. your hands suddenly brushed against each other slightly, and even that made minji blush.. you were both equally down bad for each other!

once at the other side, minji’s fingers crawled on your palm before she interlocked her hand with yours, the action making you stunned, but, you werent complaining. who would?

“all the stores are closed.. aw,” minji sighed, pointing at the stores to your left as you two walked past them after a few seconds. “but you know, the convenience stores are still open.” you spoke, as she let out an agreeing “oohh..” followed by a nod. “lets head there then? hope you dont mind the walk though..” she smiled. “as long as im with you, i wouldnt mind at all!” you grinned.

after a short 12 minutes of walking and talking, you guys finally arrived at the convenience store while still holding hands. minji was the first to step in as you came in right after, greeting the staff that stood at the register.

“so, yn..i have, uh,, something to tell you.” minji explained as you two walked out of the convenience store. you and minji spent a decent amount of time in there, talking while having snacks. you two had a great time, and she even paid for everything.. and when you thought you couldnt crush on her more than before.

“oh,” you gulped, suddenly nervous and sweat was trickling down your forehead as you nodded, “i have.. something to tell to you.. as well?” you questioned—yourself. she took a deep breath before continuing, “lets say it at the same time?

“yeah. same time.. same time,” you breathed.

“on 1, okay?”

“3 - 2 - 1–”

“i like you, yn!”

“i like you!”

“wait, what?” you awkwardly giggled, raising an eyebrow at minji. she had her head turned, obviously away from you. her face was bright red…and so was yours.

“..y—youre for real?” minji muttered, not daring to make eye contact. she was looking everywhere but your direction. “what do you think, idiot?” you joked.

“so,, were dating now, right?”

“yeah.. yeah!”

“ill walk you home then?”

“thats absurd, kim minji! spend more time with your new girlfriend, will you?”

“g-girlfriend.. right! yes, okay.”

a/n : 😁😁 send in asks interact with me maybe! ill be answering asks later

[dark-frosted-heart]

He Doesn't Know That I Turned into an Animal - Roger Barel (Part 1)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. None of my translations are proofread until a day after posting

(Mm…I should get up and get ready)

It’s been a while since I had a free day. It was such a nice day, perfect for going out.

…And then I felt something squirming about on my butt.

(Huh? There’s something weird about my body…)

Feeling uneasy, I got out of bed and the moment I looked in the mirror, any morning drowsiness left disappeared.

Kate: Arf…arf?! (Wha…What the?!)

In the mirror was an adorable golden-brown corgi with round eyes. 

What I felt moving on my butt earlier was a short corgi tail.

(I’m a dog?! What do I do…Am I dreaming?!)

(I need to get help…!)

--

(I’m out in the hall now, but who do I go to…?)

Liam: Huh? It’s an adorable little doggie! What’s it doing here?

Harrison: Did someone bring it here…?

Kate: Woof! Woofwoof! (Liam! Harrison!)

Glad to see the two, I rushed over to them.

Liam: Wow, it’s so friendly and cute. I wonder if it’s lost?

Harrison: It’s a corgi, right? Roger’s “Ale”* is also a corgi.

Liam: …Then I wonder if this pup’s Roger’s corgi? Let’s ask. Are you Roger’s?

Liam crouched down to meet my gaze.

Kate: Arf…arf! (No…I’m Kate!)

Liam: Hm. Sorry, I don’t understand, I don’t speak dog.

Harrison: …Then why’d you even ask?

(I’ve really turned into a dog…)

It’s not due to Alfons’ power or a dream…

(How did this happen…?)

Harrison: For now, let’s bring it to Roger.

--

Liam: Roger, you here~?

Roger: What, you get hurt again?

When Roger turned around and saw me in Liam’s arms…his eyes widened with surprise.

Roger: You…!

(Maybe Roger realizes that it’s me?!)

Roger: You’re soooooo cuuuuuute!

Roger smiled widely and began petting me everywhere.

Roger: Who’s a good dog? You are!

(So aggressive…!)

Roger: You’re so cute…Can I give you a kiss?

Kate: Grrrr (Ab-so-lute-ly not!!)

Roger: No? Then can I smell you?

(What kind of compromise is that?!)

In my confusion, Roger buried his face in the neck and took a big whiff.

Roger: Ahh…the smell of dogs…! The best medicine out there!

(I’ve never seen Roger like this before…)

Roger: Phew… So, who’s dog is this?

Liam: I thought the little one was yours. It’s not?

Roger: Nope, not ours. We don’t have a lot of dogs. So…Are you lost~? You poor thing~

With a smile…No, with a lovestruck look on his face, Roger started petting me again.

He was probably concerned about me being a lost dog…but petting was his priority.

(This is my first time seeing Roger be so affectionate with a dog, and it surprised me at first. But now…I don’t know…)

(It feels so good getting pet…)

Liam: Ah, the doggie’s wagging its tail! Looks like it likes Roger.

Roger: Oh…you like me? Haha, you’re so cute!

He suddenly lifted me out of Liam’s arms.

Maybe it’s because he’s so used to handling dogs, but the way he picked me up gave a sense of stability and security.

Roger: Hmm…

Kate: …?

Roger: You don’t have any, so you’re a girl.

Kate: Yip! (Don’t look!)

Roger: Oops, sorry.

(Even though I’m a dog, I can’t believe you looked at my butt…)

(It somehow feels like I lost something important…)

Roger: Don’t look so down. I won’t do it again.

Harrison: So, can you look after the dog, Roger? We got a mission.

Roger: With a dog this cute, I can take care of countless of them. Oh, that’s right. Have you seen the lil’ lady? I wanted her to help out with an experiment, but she wasn’t in the dining room at breakfast.

Harrison: Nope, haven’t seen her.

Liam: She has the day off so she’ls probably sleeping in?

Roger: Then I’ll let her sleep.

Kate: Arf arf! Arf arf! (I’m right here! Here!)

Roger: I know. We gotta find your owner today, don’t we?

(You didn’t understand me at all…!)

--

And so Roger went around asking everyone in Crown about the corgi.

But I’m not a lost dog, so there’s no owner to find…

Roger: If no one knows you, then you must’ve wandered in from outside.

Kate: Awoo…(It’s not that…)

Roger: I’ll find your owner so cheer up.

Roger patted my head as if to make me feel better.

(Ugh…I really can’t resist this feeling…!)

My short tail started wagging and Roger smiled at the sight.

Roger: You’re getting used to me now. Will you let me kiss you soon?

Kate: Grrr! (No!)

Roger: Not yet…Well, a girl’s kiss should be saved for a prince, shouldn’t it?

(I wonder if Roger’s being so romantic because he’s talking to a dog…)

Roger: Well, since you’re from outside, there’s someone I want you to meet. Be a good girl and wait for a moment?

Kate: Arf! (Got it!)

Roger: Oh, a nice response.

Roger petted me, attached a collar around my neck, tied a leash to the stair railing, and left.

A while later…

Roger: Sorry for the wait.

Kate: Arf! Arf…(Welcome back! Ro…ger…)

???: Arf! Aarf! (Who’re you? Never seen you before!)

When Roger came back, he brought a corgi with him.

The corgi circled me in excitement.

Kate: A-arf…?! (The dog’s talking…?!)

???: Arf? Arf! (What’re you talking about? You’re a dog too!)

(That’s right, since I’m a dog now, I understand dogs…)

Roger: This guy’s Ale, my family’s dog.

Ale: Arf! Woof?! (I’m Ale! What’s your name?)

Kate: …Arf (...I’m Kate)

Ale: Woof! (Nice to meet you!)

Roger: Ale’s got a habit of circling around any dog or person he meets for the first time. I brought him over from my folks’ place to have him check if you’re from around here… But it looks like it’s the first time you two are meeting. So…you’re not from around here. This is bad.

Roger scratched his head and sighed.

Roger: Nah, can’t give up now. Let’s go on a walk. Dogs know how to find their way home. Maybe you’ll remember on a walk.

--

Thinking I was a lost dog, Roger took me out on a dog walking route.

Of course, Ale was with us.

Roger: Anything ring a bell?

Kate: Awoo…(No…)

(I’m making trouble for Roger by looking for a nonexistent owner…)

(I need to work on making him understand that I’m Kate…!)

(And to do that…)

Roger: What’s up? If you’re running off like that, then…Do you know where your home is?

Kate: Arf! (Yes!)

As I ran down the road in this body of mine, Roger naturally followed after.

Ale: Woof woof! (I’m not gonna let you get away!)

And so, we arrived at—

Roger: …Crown castle?

(This is my home…so please realize that it’s me, Roger!)

Roger: The fact that we came back here…You really don’t know how to get home, do you?

(He still doesn’t get it…)

Ale: Woof woof! (I’m hungry after all that running!)

Roger: Can’t do anything else now… I’m sure you’re beat after today, so I’ll take you back to Crown.

--

Roger: Time to eat. You two, “stay”.

Roger left Ale and I in the dining room and headed to the kitchen.

(What will he prepare for us? Not human food, right?)

Ale: Woof woof! (Roger’s great at cooking!)

Ale sounded very proud when talking about Roger.

(Roger must’ve doted on him a lot while Ale was growing up…)

Ale: Woof? (You can’t eat until Roger gives you the ‘okay’, got it?) Arf! (That’s how you show respect to the cook!)

Kate: A-arf! (G-got it!)

Roger: Sorry for the wait. I made you two dinner.

(Roger’s cooking? T-this is…!)

He brought out plates of stewed meat and vegetables chopped into small pieces.

(It smells good...Looks delicious)

Ale: Awoo! (Come on, come on!)

Ale jumped around Roger’s feet as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

Roger: Haha, calm down Ale. I’m bringing you down to the infirmary first.

--

Roger: Sit, wait… Okay, go ahead!

At Roger’s signal, we started eating.

(I never thought this would be how I’d try Roger’s cooking…)

(It’s dog food, but it’s really food)

I was so mentally exhausted and the delicious food prepared with care filled my body.

Ale: Woof? Woof? (You haven’t finished your food. Need help?)

Having already finished his food, Ale nudged my plate with his nose.

Roger: Come on, Ale. You already ate.

Roger pulled Ale away, allowing me to finish my food in peace.

Kate: Arf (Thank you for the food)

Roger: You ate well. I’m glad you have an appetite. Now let’s clean this up and then…

Victor: Roger! Do you have a moment?

Victor came down to the infirmary and called out ot Roger with a serious look on his face.

Roger: Yeah. …You two be good and wait, okay?

After Roger and Victor left the basement, Ale started talking to me.

Ale: Woof woof! (Roger’s a great guy and a great cook!)

Kate: Arf (You’re right. I was surprised by how delicious it was)

Ale: Arf. Arf! (Right? Roger’s amazing!)

Ale sat proudly as if talking about himself.

Ale: Arf! Arf! (Oh! Let me tell you about the time I met Roger!)

~~ Flashback in Ale’s POV ~~

—It was when I was a small puppy.

Before meeting Roger, I lived with another man.

(I’m so hungry… It feels like I haven’t eaten in a while…)

Puppy: Awoo…(Hey, hey, is there food?)

I nudged at the man lying on the bed with my nose. But he didn’t move a muscle.

(Haven’t you been sleeping for the past few days? Why?)

(You’re cold. I guess I’ll warm you up!)

Avoiding the bottles of alcohol littered around the room, I jumped onto the bed and snuggled the man.

He usually got mad at me when I got on the bed with my dirty paws, but he didn’t say anything today.

(Hey, wake up already)

(If you’re so bored every day that you can only drink, then I’ll play with you)

How much time’s passed?

Just as I was about to pass out from starvation, someone pounded on the door.

Roger: It’s Roger! You there?! Don’t be so pessimistic about your life. I’m cursed like you— 

—Anyway, let me explain in person! If you’re pretending you’re out, I’m kicking down your door!

After shouting, there was a crack and the door broke, allowing a man with glasses to come in.

Puppy: Arf arf! (Who’re you!)

I circled around the man with glasses.

It’s a habit I still have, circling new people and dogs as a precaution.

Roger: A dog…? You’re so thin. Where’s your owner…

The man with glasses looked up at the bed and gasped.

Puppy: Arf! Arf! (He’s been sleeping forever! Wake him up!)

Roger: Ah, damn it! I was too late… If I came sooner, I might’ve been able to stop him…

Puppy: … Awoo…? (Do you mean he might not wake up again…?)

Roger: Sorry I couldn’t save your owner…

~~ Flashback end ~~

Ale: Arf (And that’s how Roger and I met)

(It happened like that…)

Ale: Woof… (My previous owner stopped moving on his bed on the night of a thunderstorm) Arf! (I’m still scared of thunder so Roger covers my ears!)

Kate: Arf (That’s kind of him)

Ale: Arf? Woof! (Right? If you know Roger’s good points, then you’re a good guy!)

After that, Roger returned to the infirmary. 

Roger: Oh? You two are getting along well already? That’s good.

(...Huh? Why do you look so down, Roger?)

(What did Victor say?)

Ale: Woof woof! (This girl’s a good one, so I want her to be your wife!)

Kate: Yip!? (What are you talking about, Ale!?)

Ale: Arf! Arf! (Wife! Wife!)

I frantically chased after Ale who was spouting nonsense.

Roger: Haha, are you playing tag? It’s nice to see you so full of energy.

(Right now I’m glad Roger doesn’t understand dog…)

Roger: For now… Let’s go take a bath.

*Roger’s dog’s name is written as エール, which I’m translating as “Ale”

[shuaboo]

🍓🍰 Kitten Heel ♡

🧺 a ricky x reader one-shot fic // cw: mild jealousy, fluff, green flag ricky, someone gets reality checked, someone wants your man… get up. // wc: 1.1k oop // not proofread

💋 a/n: MY FIRST FULL LENGTH FIC I THINK!!!!! since ricky looked so pretty in his live tonight, and i missed him so much so i wanna write for him 💞🫶🏻. im very sorry if this format is messy?? im still trying to get the hang of writing lol

there is no doubt that your boyfriend ricky is handsome. sometimes you question if he’s real because there’s just no way that someone this handsome really exists. but lo and behold, he does and he’s your boyfriend. ricky is such a sweet boyfriend, he takes care of you so well and he loves you right. ricky can get busy at times which is fine, you can get around that. can’t blame these companies for wanting him to be the face of their band. when he’s free, he always takes you out on dates. going out on dates means going out in public, with your extremely handsome boyfriend. others just can’t help but stare at ricky, fully in awe of his beauty. they realize; hey, i want a guy like that— or even better, i want to have THAT man.

this brings us to today wherein…

ricky had just finished a schedule with a brand that recruited him as their model, leaving him free. he immediately called you and told you to get dressed, because he’s going to take you out shopping. missing him, you excitedly said yes to his offer and got ready.

[2:30 PM]

ricky knocks on your door, and you open it as soon as you see it’s him through the peep hole of your door. you engulf him in a tight hug, and he laughs as he hugs you back. “hey, pretty girl. did you miss me?” he asks. you mumble a yeah as you continue to bury your face into his chest. “let’s go to my car so we can get going.” he says as he kisses your forehead before letting you out of his embrace. you nod and follow him as he holds your hand and leads the way to his parked car.

[3:05 PM]

you and ricky finally made it to the mall, and you are now looking around for stores that piqued your interest. while looking around you see a beautiful dress that catches your attention. ricky follows the direction of where your eyes are looking, and sees that you have taken a liking to the dress in the boutique. “you want to go try that dress on? it’ll look beautiful on you,” he compliments. “if it’s alright…” you sheepishly respond to him. he smiles softly and gently takes your hand to lead you into the store.

“hello, we’d like to see that dress in (your size) please.” ricky says to the lady working in the store. she blushes and says sure, clearly charmed by your boyfriends looks and walks to get your size. you silently observe the lady— from how her hair is done in a slicked back bun, to the black kitten heels that she wears. you can’t help but feel a bit jealous, knowing that the woman is probably captivated by the allure of your boyfriend. but, you trust your boyfriend. ricky never fails to make sure that you know he only loves you— and he will only want you. the woman returns with the dress and hands it over to you, without failing to sneak a glance at ricky. you see this and roll your eyes before heading to the dressing room to try on the dress.

while you try on the dress, ricky sits down on the provided seats and waits for you to come out. he can already imagine just how beautiful you’ll look in the dress, he can’t wait to see you in it and rip it off y— okay calm down 😟. ricky’s thoughts are interrupted by the saleslady, “so, do you visit this mall often?” she asks. ricky nods, “yes. i usually go shopping in this mall with my girlfriend, she’s the one trying on the dress.” he says, putting emphasis on the “girlfriend” part. the sales lady’s face cringes at the mention of you, but is quick to shrug it off. “oh, i see. you should visit this boutique more often, y’know? maybe alone… preferably.” she whispers the last part, but ricky hears her and his mind cringes at the weak attempt to flirt with him. “okay,” ricky responds curtly, just wanting the conversation to end. the sales lady grins at his response. “great! i can’t look forward to see you again. maybe next time you can get a piece from here. i could even help you put it on, if you’d like. just give me a call.” she flirts and winks at him, clearly not taking the hint that he’s not interested. at this point, ricky is just not happy. he wants to say something back that will make the girl, hopefully, shut up. but before he does, you already beat him to it. “i’ve been done trying on this dress, and i hope you know that i heard nearly everything that you were saying. listen, i don’t know if you’re dense but let me set things straight: one, am his girlfriend not you. two, you’re a sales lady, so act like it. don’t go around hitting on your customers boyfriends, babe. you’ll definitely lose a sale. lastly, your outfit is way too bright for you to be wearing a black kitten heel.” you finish as you shove the dress back into her hands, grab ricky’s hand, and walk out of the store with him.

as you walk out of the store, ricky looks at you with an amused expression. “i didn’t think my sweet girl could say such things, hm?” he teases. you grin at him and say “don’t want her to get her hopes up, she needed that reality check.” he laughs and agrees with you as you continue to walk around the mall looking for some place else to shop.

[5:12 PM]

ricky is humming to the song on the radio as he drives you both home, as you both finished up shopping. you ordered some food for to go so you can eat it at home, wanting nothing more than to watch a show and eat comfortably with your boyfriend in the comfort of your apartment. ricky stops humming and breaks the silence with a question, “was it really necessary to point out the fact that her shoes didn’t match the rest of her outfit?” you look at him surprised, taken aback by the sudden question. you quickly grin and say “definitely. she was wearing a beautiful and colorful dress, and the choice to wear black heels— KITTEN HEELS was not the right one.” ricky only laughs at your response, as a calm and comforting silence fills the car.

[5:57 PM]

you and ricky are now enjoying your meal, while watching tv. ricky faces away from the tv, and brings you to an embrace. “i love you so much, you’re the best person in the world. you are the only person i can see myself growing old with. i can’t wait to marry you.” he says, and kisses your forehead, cheeks, and lips. you hug him back smiling, and nod at him which tells him that you too, want to spend forever with him.

aurgh i love ricky!! 😍

[lipglossanon]

Spit In My Face My Love (It Won’t Phase Me)

{previous installment}

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

written for @gumiegumie, 🪷 anon, and another anon who requested a follow up where reader’s mom notices hickeys/bite marks and asks her about it and combining it with the other asks where reader dresses up and Leon stops her from going out as well as getting jealous over a guy and fucking reader while the guy’s downstairs 👌 and then added some feelings on top. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, OC for plot purposes, jealous Leon, mean Leon, rough sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex, kissing, multiple creampies, dirty talk, little bit of blood, biting, marking, possessive Leon, feelings are happening!! 🫣

not proofread ✌️

title from Spit in My Face by ThxSoMch 💜

dividers from @firefly-graphics

Pulling into the garage, you and Leon are able to sneak into the house without seeing either of your parents. After getting cleaned up, Leon heads downstairs to let his dad know you both made it home safe while you hang out in his room.  

You crawl into his bed, burrowing yourself under his sheets. Tucking your face into his pillow, you sigh at how good Leon smells. It makes you giddy like that time you had a major crush, bordering on lov—

You flail until you’re sitting upright, heart pounding in your chest eyes darting to the door. You’re falling for Leon? Oh no no no. Just how? You can’t—

The door to his room opens as Leon steps inside. 

“We’re good,” he rubs the back of his head as he shuts the door, “said it was smarter to pull over than get in a wreck.”

“Uh huh,” your throat feels tight, anxiousness making you nervous. 

“Well I should probably head back to my room and—“

“Stay,” he interrupts, joining you on the bed, “not like they’re gonna notice.”

You squeak when he slips under the covers and pulls you to his chest, tucking you both under the sheets. Heart pounding in your throat, you feel embarrassed with yourself for having a.. a crush on Leon. 

It’s totally fine, it’ll go away just like all the others. 

Everything’s totally fine.

The next morning, as you and Leon grab breakfast in the kitchen, your mom walks in, pauses, and does a double take. 

You frown at her staring, “What?”

“Where did you get that?” she puts her hands on her hips, nodding to your neck. 

You slap a hand on the bruised bite mark left by Leon from yesterday. You chance a glance at him only to see his big dumb grin over your mom’s shoulder. 

‘Oops’ he mouths at you. 

“Young lady, don’t make me ask you again,” your mom pulls your gaze back to her angry one.  

“I-it’s from my boyfriend,” you lie through your teeth while Leon stifles a laugh but completely fails, making you want to sink into the floor.  

“Oh really?” your mom narrows her eyes at you.

“Yep, was actually going to the mall later to meet up with him,” you nod your head, “Leon said he was gonna take me.”

He clears his throat when your mom switches her attention to him. 

“Have you met this boyfriend?”

“No,” he crosses his arm, drawing your eyes to his thick biceps, hating him just a little bit, “but I planned to today.”

Your mom sighs in relief, “Good, you can tell him that we’d like to meet him; invite him to dinner tomorrow night!”

“Mom!”

Leon smirks, “That’s a great idea! I’ll definitely make sure to invite’em and won’t take no for an answer.”

Your mom claps her hands happily, “Perfect! Oh, I can’t wait to meet him,” she turns back to you, “you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep your dating life a secret, sweetie.“

A tight smile crosses your face, “Thanks, mom.”

You glare at Leon as your mom pulls you into a quick hug and he flips you off. 

“Should we get going, sis? Don’t want you to be late for your meet up,” Leon tries to fight down his grin and fails. 

“Sure, big bro,” you roll your eyes at him, “let me grab my wallet and we can go.”

As soon as you meet up with Leon in the car outside, you sock him in the arm. 

“What’s that for?!” he scowls at you, rubbing the muscle. 

“That’s for being a complete ass,” you sneer, “don’t wanna be late for your meet up,” you mimic in a high pitched snippy tone. 

Leon laughs at you as he pulls the car out of the driveway and heads out to the mall. 

“What did you want me to say? ‘Oh don’t worry, I’m the one railing your cute little daughter and got a bit too wild last night’,” he rolls his eyes while you shiver at his words, “don’t think that one’s gonna fly, princess.”

“God, you suck so much,” you gripe, slumping back into the seat with crossed arms, glaring out the window. 

“And you like it,” he smirks at you then turns back to the road, “now what’re we going to do at the mall? Just walk around til it’s been long enough for a date?”

You shrug, “I guess so.”

“Save the charm for your boyfriend there princess,” Leon chuckles to himself. 

You can’t believe you like this guy. He’s such a jerk to you. Shooting a look over at him, you narrow your eyes as an idea occurs to you. You’ll find a guy in the mall, any guy will work, and get him to go as your date for the dinner your mom’s planning. 

Leon’s definitely not going to like this, but let’em get a taste of his own medicine. 

You smile at him, “You’re right, I should save it.”

Settling into the quiet, you try to form some semblance of a plan. You’ll need to get Leon to go off and leave you alone so you can find someone. Shouldn’t be too hard honestly, you can just say you’re going to the restroom. You drum your fingers on your lap and just watch the scenery go by the window. 

Parking and getting inside is easy; separating from Leon is more difficult than you expected. He follows you everywhere; even waiting for you outside the restroom. 

Finally making it to the food court, you’re able to split up as you both want something different to eat. It really does work out for you as you bump into an old classmate and strike up a conversation. You flirt a little and as soon as he starts flirting back, you feel sweet satisfaction deep in your chest. This is perfect. 

Your classmate follows you back to the table Leon’s already seated at, sitting next to you and across from him. 

“Oh, Leon, this is an old friend, Brad,” you gesture across the table, smiling wide at Leon’s flat expression, “Brad this is my step brother, Leon.”

“Nice to meet you!” Brad holds his hand out but Leon ignores it. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Leon smiles back, but it’s laced with disdain making butterflies flutter in your chest. 

“I was just inviting Brad over tonight actually; we’re going out to see a movie and since mom would love to meet him it makes sense for him to swing by and pick me up,” your smile widens even further at Leon’s hateful glare aimed at the guy. 

“Should be fun,” Brad chimes in, nervously gazing from Leon over to you, “does 6 sound good?”

“It’s perfect,” you laugh, “I’m really excited to—“

“Actually, we have to head back now, I forgot we needed to run an errand for my dad,” Leon cuts in, standing up and pulling you up by your arm, “we’ll catch you later, Brett.”

“Uh, i-it’s Brad,“ he stutters out. 

Leon smirks, “Sure, we’ll see you later.”

You frown at Leon but make sure to smile and wave at Brad, “See you at 6!”

As soon as you’re far enough away, you jerk your arm back, “What’s the problem? And what errand?”

“No errand,” Leon shrugged, shoulders stiff, “was just tired of that guy eye fucking you in front of me.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Well, you said I should find a boyfriend and so I did.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can see his jaw clench. He gives you the silent treatment from there all the way back to the house. Once home, he slips off to his room as you let your mom know about your date coming over. 

“I was hoping to see him tomorrow, but tonight isn’t too shabby,” she laughs and pats your arm, “you better go get ready, it’s only a couple of hours til he gets here.”

You head upstairs and bypass Leon’s room. Pausing, you frown at the door. It’s not fair for him to get so upset; it’s his fault anyway you think as you run your hand over the makeup covered bruise he left on your neck. 

Whatever. 

You feel a pang of disappointment and something a little like heartbreak, but squish it down and continue on to your room to get ready. 

Leon can just get over himself. 

A couple of hours later, just as you’re finishing up, there’s a knock on your door. 

“Come in!”

You stay seated at your vanity as you finish the last bit of your makeup and clasp a pretty necklace around your neck. 

“Bart’s downstairs,” Leon’s dull voice calls out, “seems he came early to make a good impression. He’s sucking up to your mom right now.”

You sigh and stand up, “Alright, I’m headed down—“

“No.”

You meet Leon’s baleful glare with surprise. 

“What?”

“You’re not going out looking like that,” he spits out, coming all the way into your room and closing the door. 

“What’re you talking about? It’s just a cute dress,” you roll your eyes, “it’s nothing obscene. You’re just being a jerk.”

Leon strides over to you making you step back until you bump your vanity. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears so loudly you’re surprised he can’t hear it. He grabs your waist and hoists you on top of the wooden surface, shoving your dress hem up until he can see your panties. Cute pale lace with a little rose bow on top. 

His fingers wrap around your thighs, thumbs pressing hard into the bruises he left last time making you choke out a whine. Slick drips from your cunt into your panties. Goosebumps race across your body as your thighs part for his bulky frame. 

“You’re not going out looking like this,” he hisses down at you, eyes narrowed, “I own this slutty little cunt and you’re not showing any of this to anyone else, got it?”

You open your mouth to argue, but Leon shoves his tongue inside, sloppily licking against your own. Moaning, you feel his broad hands grope you through your dress, fingers roughly pinching your nipples until you’re crying out. 

He kisses you so messily that spit drips down your chin; your hands dig into his shoulders as you suck on his thick tongue, whining when he fucks it in and out of your mouth. 

He pulls away, hand tangling in your hair to yank your head back.

“Think you need to be shown who you belong to,” he growls.

He flips your around, bending you over the vanity forcing you face to face with your mirror. Slick floods the gusset of your panties, hole clenching around nothing. 

“You’re gonna watch as I fuck this cute pussy til you understand that you’re mine,” he slaps your ass making you whimper, “thought we already had this lesson in the car.”

In a flash it seems, Leon has already ripped your clothes off. He unbuckles his pants and pulls his dick out, staying fully clothed, as he ruts his thick cock against your silky wet pussy. 

“You’re soaked,” he grins at you in the mirror, “this pussy knows who owns her, huh princess? She’s fucking crying to get dicked down.”

You whine as his tip pushes through your pussy lips and bumps your clit, the fat head of his cock leaking precum all over your sensitive bud. 

“Leon,” you whine, grinding back on him, “please, want it, big brother.”

His dark eyes narrow at you and he slaps your ass hard making you squeal. 

“You’ll take what I give you,” he growls out, rubbing his cock all over your cunt and only ghosting the tip across your soaked hole, “you need to learn some manners.”

“Sorry, big brother,” you whimper, watching as his big hands cup your breasts, massaging the soft skin. 

“You will be,” he smirks, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, “gonna wreck your cute pussy all night.”

You moan, bucking back against him as he tweaks and tugs on your nipples. His cock glides against your wet cunt, head catching on your clenching hole making you both groan. 

“Should I?” he teases, “should I push inside my sister’s needy little pussy?”

“Yes, yes, please, big brother,” you pant, “please, I want it.”

He slaps your ass again then reaches down to guide his dick into your cunt, sinking easily into your slick fluttering walls until he’s bottoming out and making you choke out a whine. 

“Got this little pussy molded to fit my cock,” he hisses, eyes glued to where you’re joined, “still so fucking tight, baby sis.”

You whimper shakily, “Ungh, you’re so big, Leon.”

He laughs, “Nah, you just have a little hole.”

Clenching down on him makes you moan, “Uh uh, your cock is too big. It hurts.”

He groans and grinds himself deeper, tip kissing your cervix making you wail. 

“Shut the fuck up,” his palm covers your mouth, “trying to get caught? Want everyone to open that door to see me fucking your needy cunt, princess?”

Your eyes roll back as your walls flutter around his throbbing cock, feeling strung out as he grinds against your cervix making you squeal and drool, pussy squeezing him tightly. 

“Think you like how it hurts,” he coos in your ear, “like how deep big brother can reach inside your cute cunt, god you’re gripping me so fucking tight. Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not pulling out anytime soon.”

Your body shudders, pussy walls pulsing around his dick as he rocks against you, letting your pussy squeeze down on him. Feeling like jello, your brain can’t think of anything except how good it feels. He drops his hand from your mouth to grab onto your hip. 

“Big brother,” you gasp, eyes fighting to stay on his face in the mirror, “want you to fuck me.”

He grunts, pulling out to fuck back in just as deep. You moan, bouncing back against him. Leon’s hands grip your hips tightly, pounding his cock into your messy cunt harder and harder, the sound of skin slapping together sounding loud in your room. 

“Feel me rearranging your guts, princess?” his harsh voice whispers in your ear, hands fisted in your hair to hold your tear stained face up to the mirror. 

You distantly realize your makeup’s totally ruined, smeared across your face, eyes hooded as you watch Leon bully his cock into your soaked cunt. He continues to rub against your g-spot with unerring accuracy, slick sliding down his cock to drip off his balls. 

“S’too deep, big brother,” you whine, drool slipping from your lips to land on your vanity, fingers digging into its wooden surface. 

“Oh, I don’t think I’m deep enough,” he laughs meanly, “think I can fuck the tip straight into your womb, sweetheart?”

Your pussy clamps down like a vice around his throbbing length, spine arching and eyes rolling back as you cum around his cock. 

He laughs even harder, “What a little freak my baby sis is, fucking gagging for it, what a slut.”

Gasping and panting, you push back against him as he thrusts harder into your soaked hole, “‘m your slut, big brother.”

Leon makes a low groaning noise in his throat, “Yeah, ya are—my little cumslut. Gonna fill you up so good, let it drip out of that needy fucking pussy while he takes you to the fucking movies.”

“No,” you cry out. 

Pushing up enough to move your hands behind you both, you clasp onto the back of Leon’s neck, body arching beautifully for him, letting him fuck his thick cock into your sensitive pussy even deeper. 

“Don’t wanna go, just want you,” tears gather in your eyes, head tilting back to look up at Leon’s chiseled features, “please, big brother—Leon.”

He snarls down at you, one hand wrapping around your neck and his other sliding down to rub at your overstimulated cunt, fingertips teasing across your clit. 

“Fine, gonna keep you here, tell your little boy toy to fuck off then come up here and rail you so hard you’ll feel my cock in your throat,” he rumbles darkly, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he squeezes your throat. 

“Please, please, please,” you chant, tears streaking your face as your nails scratch at his skin. 

Leon’s fingers rub your pudgy sensitive clit until you’re clawing his neck and scalp, babbling and shaking as you cream all over his cock, orgasm making your brain complete mush. 

“Good fucking girl,” he hisses, head dipping down so his teeth sink into your shoulder as he buries his dick inside your fluttering hole, spilling hot sticky cum inside your pussy, “mmm, milk me, take that load deep into that hot pretty princess cunt.”

You whimper and mewl, legs shaking as Leon’s cum drips down your thighs from your still stuffed hole. He grunts as he slips his spent cock from your pussy. 

“Here,” he eases you backwards until he can set you down on the bed, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

He drops kisses to the top of your head, the apples of your cheeks, then your parted lips. A surge of deep want floods your body. Feeling needy, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him into a filthy tongue filled kiss. 

He groans, kneeling on the bed before letting you drag him down on top of you. You want him so much tears prick your eyes, mouth sloppily kissing him. He moans, rutting his half hard cock against your cream covered pussy. 

“Princess,” he mutters against your lips. 

You ignore him and rock against his stiffening dick, legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Again,” you whisper against his lips, “please, Leon.”

A low pained sound slips from his mouth, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give it to ya.”

Reaching between your bodies, he presses the tip of his cock inside your pussy. 

“Fuck, you’re so sticky inside, baby,” he bottoms out quickly, stealing your breath. 

“Want it, please,” you whine, nails scratching against his back, “want big brother to fill me up again.”

He groans, pulling out and fucking back into your sloppy sounding pussy, “Mm don’t worry, I will, princess. God, what’s gotten into you?”

That needy want fills your sex addled mind; you want more than just sex with Leon but can’t articulate anything in your cockdrunk haze. 

“Want you,” you whimper, hands tugging him down into a kiss, “wanna feel full.”

“Can’t stay too long, they expect you downstairs,” he murmurs against your mouth. 

“Don’t care,” you sigh as Leon ruts his dick just right and rubs along the spongy spot inside your cunt, “just want you.”

“Fuck,” he growls, hips snapping into you harder, “yeah? Just need big brother pounding your cute pussy?”

“Yes, yes,” you moan, “just need my pussy stuffed with big brother’s cock.”

“Fucking hell,” his hips hump into your clenching hole harder, fucking your cunt rougher than before, “pussy gripping me so fucking good.”

He licks into your panting mouth as he picks up the pace, rabbiting his cock into your squelching cunt so hard the bed rattles. His pelvis presses down on your swollen clit on every thrust and paired with his dick nailing your g-spot repeatedly, your back arches off the bed—orgasm hitting you so hard you see fireworks behind your closed eyelids. 

“There you go,” he soothes, “milk me, sweetheart, milk big brother’s cock so he can breed your pussy.”

Your nails score down his back making him hiss and ram his dick harder into your cunt, tip knocking against your cervix til he’s spilling inside you again. He grunts as rope after rope of hot cum floods your pussy. Laying there until he catches his breath, Leon raises up to pull out of your spasming heat. 

When you whine up at him, he pets your head. 

“Relax for me, princess. I’m gonna grab you some water,” he kisses you gently one last time. 

You hum, smiling dopily up at him, “‘Kay.”

You watch with tired eyes as he moves off the bed and walks over to the door. 

Leon gives you a crooked smile as he slips out of your room, closing the door behind him. He dips into the bathroom to give himself a once over, wiping your makeup off of his face with a smirk. He makes his way downstairs, practically skipping. 

He swings into the living room, making sure to look suitably concerned as he makes his way to your mom and Brent? Brett? Whatever. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but sadly you guys are gonna have to take a rain check,” Leon looks down, closing his hand into a fist once he sees your lipgloss smeared along his palm, “she’s not feeling well, got a bad migraine.”

Your mom frowns, “Oh poor thing, I’ll go up in a moment and check on her.”

Leon shoots her a disarming smile , “Don’t worry, I’m grabbing her a water and some meds. You can show our guest out,” Leon shoots a simpering smile over to Bentley(?). 

She smiles over at Leon and then stands up to walk the other guy to the door, “Thanks, Leon.”

He gives her a two fingered salute and walks off toward the kitchen, subtly watching as he guides that idiot to the front door. Leon’s in and out of the kitchen, grabbing a couple of waters, and quickly making his way upstairs. He stops by his room and grabs one of his old phys ed shirts, eager to see you wearing it, and slips back into your room. 

You’ve already undressed, sleepily lounging on the bed in a nightshirt, coming to when you hear the door click shut. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, moving over to you and cupping your face, “let’s get a shower and head to bed.”

“Sounds good,” you slur, turning your face to kiss his thumb.

His heart clenches tightly, sticky warmth filling his chest and making his ears burn. 

“So sweet,” he mutters under his breath, helping you up. 

“Just wanted you to be nice,” you mumble, leaning into his side, “didn’t care about Brad.”

Leon winces, glad you’re sleepily nuzzling into him as he guides you quietly out into the hall to the nearby bathroom. 

“I know,” he rumbles, dropping a kiss to to your head, “you deserve someone sweeter.”

He sits you down on the closed toilet lid once you both enter the bathroom, turning and locking the door. 

You’re pouting at him and he can’t help but grin at you. 

“You can be sweet,” you murmur, eyelashes kissing your cheeks when you look away to the wall, picking at your nails. 

He wants to pull his hair at the flood of butterflies swarming in his stomach, threatening to choke him. Is this a crush? It’s way more intense than that it seems. He’s never felt like this before. 

“You drive me crazy,” he finally sighs, kneeling in front of you, helping you slip your shirt off, “I don’t know what to do.”

Your fingers brush away the fringe from his face, letting him meet your eyes unhindered, “Just…”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip, holding back what you want to say. 

“Just be mindful,” you say, a weak smile crossing your face. 

He knows that’s not what you wanted to say but he’s too chickenshit to ask you for more. 

“Ready for that shower, princess?” 

He tilts your wrist up to kiss your pulse point, eyes never leaving yours so he sees when your breath hitches. 

“Please, Leon,” you whisper. 

His eyes search yours for a second before standing up to step over to the full bath, flicking on the water. He feels like he’s out of his depth but not even sure how to cross that line with you. He glances back to see you brushing against the bruising on your thighs and hips, darker than before. Heated possession settles deep in his gut, pleased at the marks he left, wanting to leave more. 

He pulls his attention back to the water thinking to himself that he’s fucked, already half in love with you with not a goddamn clue on where you stand in this backwards ass relationship. 

You’re quiet in the shower, lost in thought it seems to Leon so he doesn’t push it, helps you wash off before cleaning himself then shutting off the water. You step out in your towel, leaving him alone in the bathroom with his swirling thoughts. As he dries his hair with the towel, he stares at the closed door. His stomach rolls with the thought you would’ve went out with that dickhead just to spite him, but to be fair, he drove you to it. 

Frustrated, he wraps the towel around his waist and leaves the bathroom, heading into his room prepared to wallow and listen to music as he parcels through his messy feelings; however, opening the door draws him up short. 

His eyes drift from your bare legs up to his shirt that’s so long it hits the top of your thighs, gaze finally moving all the way up to see you completely asleep on his bed. It feels like a sucker punch to his solar plexus. He quietly closes his door and leans against it. He feels sick. Fuck. 

It’s not fair. You’re too fucking good and he wants more than what you’re willing to give. He wants to take you out, wants to spoil you, wants to love—

He shakes his head hard. No. He can’t go there. He’ll get over it. It’s just infatuation. It’s honestly nothing. 

He ignores the crisis waiting to happen and slides in a pair of briefs before slipping into bed behind you. You murmur, turning in your sleep to bury your face into his chest. He clenches his eyes shut, wrapping his arm around you to pull you even closer. He falls asleep nuzzling into your hair, listening to your even breathing as he relaxes against you. 

You wake up with a start. 

Disoriented, your eyes rapidly look around, a sigh escaping you once you realize you fell asleep in Leon’s room. You roll over, coming face to face with his sleeping face. Your eyes squint as you read the time on your watch. It’s before seven am, so he’s not waking up for awhile. 

You smile to yourself, taking in his slack mouth and dark eyelashes, eyes tracing the little freckles down to the vampire bite he has on his neck. You want to run your hands over that pair of freckles but refrain from waking him up. He looks so sweet like this. That feeling of want ramps up again making your toes curl. You wish he was just a boy you had met at school or the mall or something. 

It would make this whirlwind of feelings less messy; your heart thumps painfully in your chest making your breath stutter. If he was just some guy you had met, you could be months into a relationship now. You let yourself daydream what that would be like. Would he be sweeter to you? He’d take you out on dates, but would he be mean like he is now or…

You bite your lip. Would he just be mean during sex? Your cunt throbs but you ignore it. You’re pretty sure he would be, he just can’t help himself. Luckily for you both, you likeit. However… 

You deflate a little. You wish he were sweeter to you sometimes. Like at the company picnic. Not that you don’t like him as he is, just—

Tears prick your eyes and you blink rapidly, willing them away. 

You just want him to like you like you like him. 

“Y’kay?” he mumbles, eyes blinking sleepily, thumb clumsily rubbing your cheek. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, giving him a watery smile, lie slipping off your tongue, “just a bad dream.”

“C’mere,” he slurs, tugging you into his body, tucking your face into his neck, “shoulda woke me up.”

His warm palms stroke down your back, a slow back and forth that almost makes you want to cry. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, nuzzling deeper into his neck. 

“Hey, s’okay,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep, “I got you, baby.”

You sniffle, tears slipping from your eyes, heart aching at his words. 

“Yeah?” your voice comes out small. 

“A’course,” he pets you, hands softly stroking your head and down your back, “always got you.”

Letting yourself have this moment, you squeeze him tighter to you. 

Who knew being in love sucked so much?

You stay in Leon’s arms for most of the morning, mainly cause he falls back to sleep holding you and you just don’t have the heart to wake him up by pulling away. 

Once he rolls over in his sleep, you take the opportunity to slip from his room and go back into yours. You get dressed and walk downstairs, heading to where you can hear your mom cooking in the kitchen. 

“Oh honey,” she walks up to you, putting the palm of her hand on your forehead, “you feeling better? Leon told us you had a nasty headache.”

You want to laugh hysterically. God, you’re all over the place this morning. 

“Uh yeah,” you give her a small smile, “think I just was a little dehydrated.”

She clicks her tongue and turns back to the stove, “You know to drink more water. Maybe take a break from the sodas and coffee today.”

Nodding although she can’t see it, you push yourself up to sit on the counter, “I’m going to.”

“Good,” she turns with a little grin, “that Brad sure is cute.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to see him anymore.”

She frowns, “But why, he’s such a nice young man.”

You kick your feet against the cabinet as you look over at the window, “I dunno, just don’t feel that spark, y’know?”

She smiles, eyes softening in understanding, “I know,” she turns back to the pan on the cooktop, “well just make sure to let him down easy.”

You hum your agreement and let the conversation drift into a comfortable silence. 

“Oh!” 

You turn to your mom wiping her hands on her apron, “We’re going on a trip!”

“Everyone?” 

“No,” she laughs, “we’re gonna leave Leon in charge but we’ll be gone for the week starting tomorrow!”

She sighs happily, “I’ve always wanted to go to the Grand Canyon.”

You giggle, “That’s like a family vacation.”

She swats at you with her own giggle, “Yeah well it’s also for couples.”

“What’s for couples?”

You both turn to see Leon rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walks into the kitchen. Hands digging into the edge of the counter, you nod your head to your mom. 

“The Grand Canyon.”

Leon barks out a laugh then covers his mouth as your mom swats him the dish towel. 

“It is very romantic, thank you,” she sniffs haughtily but it falls flat when she laughs afterward. 

She takes on a serious face, “But that means you’ll be in charge while we’re gone, so no wild parties mister.”

His eyes dart to you with a gleam and your thighs press together, “Oh no, wouldn’t dream of it.”

She purses her lips, “I mean it, Leon. We’ll be checking the security cameras to make sure.”

Leon laughs at that, attention going back to your mom letting you breathe easily, “Yes, ma’am.”

She shakes her head with a good natured sigh, “Kids.”

A timer goes off on her phone and she shuts the stove eye off.

“I’ve got to finish packing,” she says to you, slipping her apron off and hanging it on a hook connected to the back of the pantry door, “once this is cool, will you put it in a dish and stick in the fridge?”

“Sure, mom,” you smile at her, watching as she leaves the kitchen. 

Leon waits a beat, eyes tracking your mom before making his way over to you. He smirks, long fingers pushing your legs open to slot himself between your thighs. 

“How’re you this morning?” he kisses your neck making you gasp. 

“I-I’m okay,” your voice shakes as his lips drag along your neck, nipping and kissing the bruised skin. 

“Mmm,” he hums, tongue dipping out to taste your throat, “no more bad dreams?”

“N-no,” your hands grip his shoulders, wanting to push him away but liking the attention. 

“Princess,” he rumbles, raising his head up to look down at you, eyes dark and unreadable.

He presses his lips to yours, kissing you like he’s never tasted anything this good in his life. You whine and he gets rougher, biting your bottom lip and licking across it before slipping his tongue into your mouth. His hands drop to your thighs, yanking your body to the edge of the counter. 

You pull away with a pant, “Leon, we’re not alone.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, fingers digging into the bruises making your cunt leak slick. 

He kisses you wetly one last time and moves completely away from you. He opens his mouth to say something when his dad breezes into the kitchen. 

“Honey, I— oh hey you two,” he smiles, “I got off work early so we can leave out tonight.”

“Congrats, pops,” Leon gives him a crooked smile and your heart flips at the soft look. 

His dad rolls his eyes making you think that’s definitely where Leon picked it up from. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just ready to have the house to yourself.”

“Did you already know?”

Leon turns to you brow furrowed, “Pops told me the other day.”

“Ah,” you shrug, “mom just told me today.”

Your stepdad laughs, “She’s so excited that it must’ve slipped her mind. I’m gonna go tell her the good news. See you both later!”

You slip off the counter, following after him when Leon grabs your forearm stopping you. 

“What?” you squint your eyes at him. 

“You seem off—weird.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, “Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

Wrenching your arm away, you rush off, locking yourself in your room to try and sort out your chaotic emotions. Hours later, there’s a knock at your door. 

Opening it to your mom and stepdad, they both hug you and bid goodbye, promising to call, reminding you that service isn’t great so to be careful and take care of each other. You smile and wave them off, closing your door once they disappear down the stairs. 

Luckily unluckily, Leon leaves you be for the rest of the day. You hear him pause outside your door a couple of times but he doesn’t stay longer than a handful of seconds before walking on to his room. You feel like throwing up, your nerves are so all over the place.

It’s a couple of days later and the house is quiet. You’ve avoided or given Leon the cold shoulder anytime you’ve run into him. Surprisingly, it’s worked even if his stare makes chills run down your spine. Tiptoeing out of your room, you’ve slipped down into the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before scurrying back up to your room. 

After agonizing all night again, you’ve determined that you’re just going to have to stop being with Leon. It hurts to even think it, but if it’s all one sided, it’s better to quit now before you get even more involved. 

Finally leaving your room, you walk over to Leon’s but chicken out last minute and veer downstairs. You’ll just chill in the living room and once Leon comes down, you can talk to him in a neutral territory. Flipping on the TV and finding reruns of a sitcom you like, you settle down and let it take your mind off things. 

You’re cringing and giggling at Michael hitting Meredith with his car when the doorbell rings. You glance upstairs but don’t see any movement so when the doorbell goes off again, you sigh and climb up off the couch. Glancing through the peephole, you frown to see Brad on the other side. 

“Who is it?” A hot gust of air whispers in your ear. 

You squeak rubbing the shell of your ear as you pull back to glare at Leon. 

“Brad,” you deadpan.

Leon’s jaw clenches, “Who said you could invite him over, princess? I’m in charge and starting now he’s banned from ever stepping foot here again.”

You scoff, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t even have a way to contact him. I guess he’s stopping by to check in.”

“Tell him to leave or I will, and it won’t be nice,” Leon’s voice darkens, pressing you against the door, “I’ll make it to where he’ll wish he never met you.”

As much as that makes your heartbeat fast and cunt ache, you bare your teeth at him, “I’ll talk to whoever the fuck I want to. You might think you own me, but you don’t own shit, Leon.”

You shove him away and open the door, smiling too brightly at Brad.

“Hi!”

Brad smiles back, “Hi, uh, how’re you feeling?”

“Better,” you shoot a glare at Leon, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door, “sorry I had to cancel our plans.”

Brad laughs, “Don’t apologize, kinda last minute plans at that, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you grin at him, “what’re you—“

The door pulls open and Leon steps out next to you. 

“Benton, so nice to see you again!”

The smile on your face tightens, anger pulsing in your temples. 

“I-it’s Brad,” the boy tries to correct with a nervous smile, “and yeah, it’s nice to—“

“Yeah, yeah, listen, can I talk to you for a sec?” Leon’s grinning but his eyes are dead as he grabs Brad by the arm and frog marches him down the porch steps.

“Leon, what’re you doing?”

He turns to you with a look so dark that it makes you pause. 

“Just guy talk, princess.”

Your heart rabbits in your chest, worry overtaking the anger as Leon leads Brad back to his car parked out on the street. You lean over the porch banister, torn between wanting to go down there or watching what Leon will do. 

Leon doesn’t raise his voice or hands, but even from here you can see the fear etched on Brad’s face. He’s pulling away from Leon like he’s been burned and climbing into his car, peeling out from your street without even a look back at you. Leisurely making his way back to be house, Leon stops on the porch and gestures for you to go into the house first. 

You glare at him and storm past him, climbing up the stairs as he shuts and locks the front door. Nerves shoot through you when you hear him chase after you and grab you right outside his room. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“My room, Leon,” you spit out, twisting in his arms. 

You squeal when he deadlifts you over his shoulder, pushing into his room and throwing you down onto his bed. 

“Nah, enough of that,” he climbs onto the bed after you, pinning your wrists down with his hands, “you seem to be getting airs, little princess.”

“Fuck off, Leon,” you’re so frustrated that tears are threatening to spill, “get off me, this is done. I’m done. We’re done, okay?”

He frowns, leaning up on his haunches and letting you slide back until you’re leaning against the headboard, pulling your knees up to your chest, wiping the tears from your face. 

“What’re you talking about?” he’s watching you closely.

“This,” you wave your hand from yourself to him, “this is done. I, I can’t keep doing it, Leon.”

Your voice breaks and more tears spill across your cheeks. 

“I can’t keep being with you like this.”

“Oh.”

He seems to deflate, falling back until he’s able to sit with his legs criss cross.

“Was it,” he clears his throat, picking at his comforter, “did I hurt you?”

You laugh incredulously, “Yes, but not in the way you think.”

He frowns at you from under his fringe, blue eyes staring you down. 

“Explain it to me then.”

You exhale shakily, hiding your eyes behind your palms, “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I like you, Leon.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’? I like you, Leon.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything?! You don’t even feel the same way. I’m sleeping with a guy who I’m falling in lo—like with and he doesn’t even care about me like that.”

“Hey.”

His sharp voice makes you drop your palms from your damp eyes. 

“Who the fuck said I didn’t care about you like that?”

Confusion makes your brows pinch together, “What?”

He moves so fast you don’t realize what’s happening until you’re being kissed breathless. 

“I like you, too,” he kisses you again, catching your sob with his lips, “I meant it when I said you drive me crazy. I want you all the time. Want you more than just your body. Love your smartass mouth and your weird sense of humor.”

He kisses all over your tearstained face, “Love how excited you get about stuff, like when I randomly gave you those gummy worms and you smiled for the rest of the day.”

You laugh wetly, letting him kiss the sound from your mouth.

“I love spending all my time with you,” he drops a kiss to your cheek, “meant it when I said I got you, baby.”

You smile through a new batch of tears, messily pressing your lips to Leon’s. 

“Leon, please,” you whimper, hands digging into his shoulders, “show me, show me how much you’ve got me.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, kissing your jaw and down your neck, “let me show you, princess.”

Between you both it’s no time before you’re both naked in his bed, grinding against each other, lips meeting over and over between gasps and whines. 

“Please, Leon,” you whimper, arching up as he drags his fat tip across your clit, “want you so much.”

“I’ve got you,” he kisses you as he presses his cock into your soaked pussy.

He bottoms out with a low groan, “Good girl, fuck, ruined me for anyone else, baby.”

You keen high in your throat, cunt fluttering around his cock at his words. 

“You ruined me for anyone, big brother,” you whisper against his lips making him growl and rut deeper into your slick pussy. 

“Damn right,” he kisses you so hard it splits your bottom lip making you both moan. 

“Aww, little sis,” he coos, tongue lapping against the cut, “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

“Like it,” you mewl, hands tangled in his blonde strands, “like when you’re rough, big brother.”

He groans, humping your pussy so hard he rubs against your g-spot, “You’re perfect, fuck. Wanna cum inside you.”

“Please, please, love how hot it feels,” you kiss him, smearing blood on his mouth. 

“My hot cum filling you up, stuffing my little sister’s pussy so good, it drips out,” his hot breath slides over your neck before he’s biting down, deep, nearly breaking skin.

Your whole body thrashes, hips rocking up into his bulky weight pinning you down to the sheets.

“Gonna mark you all over,” he bites you again on the opposite side of your throat making you cry out, voice cracking. 

“Gonna take you apart all week long,” he swears into your ear, kissing the lobe. 

Your cunt’s clamping down on his dick rhythmically as he bullies against the spongy spot in your cunt. His leans up to shift his upper body so he can latch onto your hard nipples. Whining, your legs spasm and wrap tighter around his waist. 

He slows down, rutting slow into your cunt as his mouth bites and sucks at your aching buds. 

“Love sucking your tits,” he lathes his tongue across the swell of your breast, nipping the soft skin, “tomorrow wanna just suck on’em all day, see if we can make you cum from just that.”

“Leon,” you whine, pussy pulsing around his dick.

He laughs low in his throat, teeth biting your nipple before sucking it softly into his mouth. His head stays buried between your breasts, slowly taking his fill of suckling and biting your nipples until they’re puffy and sore. 

“Wanna cum,” you pant, hips twisting and writhing under him, “Leon, big brother, please.”

He presses down on you even more, settling his heavy weight over you until you’re mewling from not being able to move. 

“We got all night, princess,” he whispers in your ear, tongue licking across the shell, “could just rut in your wet little cunt all night, keep you stuck here on my cock for hours.” 

Whimpering, your nails dig into his broad back making him buck into your soaked hole. 

“Mmm my own personal fleshlight, grips me just right,” he teases, groaning as your pussy squeezes his cock tightly, “oh, like being big brother’s pocket pussy, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you moan, “m’pussy belongs to big brother.”

“Fuck yeah it does,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt a few times before slowing back down, “gonna let me use you whenever I want?“

“Big brother,” you pant, drooling as he grinds right against your g-spot continuously, body shaking with your impending orgasm, “please.”

“Let your boyfriend make you cum, baby sis,” he kisses your jaw, “then he’ll cream your pretty cunt.”

He rocks even harder against you, pelvis rubbing across your clit as his tip kisses your cervix making you gush around his cock as you cum, pussy walls milking his throbbing length.  

“Oh, there we go, good girl,” he praises against your ear, smoky voice making you clench again, “god, ‘m close, gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up just like you asked.”

“Please, please,” you weakly beg, body locked around him as he fucks you hard and deep. 

With a choked off groan, he thrusts deeply one last time and stills, cock kicking and throbbing as hot sticky cum spills from the fat tip, painting your fluttering walls white. You moan brokenly, pulling him into another messy kiss.

After a few minutes, Leon’s softening cock slips from your cunt, hole oozing creamy spend all over his sheets. He lays down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“You’re so fucking perfect, princess,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

Warmth floods your chest as you smile up at him, “You’re pretty special, too.”

He grins, thumb tilting your chin up, “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Homepage Lines - Valentine's Day (2025)

graphics and proofreading by myuntachis!

text version under the cut!

Spring Troupe

Sakuya: I’m actually always nervous when you give me chocolates. Even now…

Masumi: Receiving chocolate from you always makes me so happy I could cry. Thank you so much, really. … I love you.

Tsuzuru: I woke up a little earlier today, probably ‘cause I was excited for you to give me chocola… Uh, I sound like a little kid, don’t I?

Itaru: Your handmade chocolate is an S-tier recovery item. TYSM for the full heal.

Citron: This year’s thank you kiss will be on your favorite spot! Ohhh, what a cute reaction♪

Chikage: You’re a magician too, in my eyes. I don’t like chocolates, and yet you turn them into special presents.

Summer Troupe

Tenma: It’s obvious that I’m waiting for chocolate? If you tell me you’ve got something to give me this time of year… Of course I’ll look forward to it.

Yuki: Oh, it’s a teddy bear chocolate. W-Well, it’s pretty cute, I guess? Thanks, I’ll savor it.

Muku: This year’s chocolate is delicious too! This flavor is a once-a-year gift to me.

Misumi: Thanks for giving me a different triangle chocolate every year~ You’ve become a master at finding triangle chocolates!

Kazunari: Your chocolate is sweeter than usual this year! Did you put all your feelings for me in it?

Kumon: Thanks! I don’t do so good with sweet stuff, but I could eat a ton of your chocolates!

Autumn Troupe

Banri: TY for always givin’ me chocolate. So? Ya gonna feed it to me or what? Just kiddin’.

Juza: The chocolate I get from you’s special, so I wanted to savor it, but it was gone in an instant.

Taichi: I made chocolates with Mi-chan this year! They’re for you, of course! ‘Kay, here you go!

Omi: Directo… Oops, great minds think alike. First, please accept this chocolate financier from me.

Sakyo: Your chocolate’s pretty elaborate this time too. …Is that all you’ll give me? I’m free all day, y’know.

Azami: Thanks for the chocolate. …Huh? I-It’s shaped like a heart!? You should only give this kinda thing to the guy you… l-like.

Winter Troupe

Tsumugi: Ohhh, this chocolate looks delicious. Thank you very much. Please try mine as well.

Tasuku: I shouldn’t take you giving me chocolate like this every year for granted. …Thanks. 

Hisoka: There’s a marshmallow inside the chocolate… Did you make this? I’m happy, I’ll savor it.

Homare: It seems that I managed to give you my gift before you gave me yours this year. That shocked face is precisely what I wanted to see.

Azuma: I’ve prepared some delicious chocolates for you. Come over here, I’ll feed them to you.

Guy: Thank you as always, Director. Being able to express our feelings like this is not something to be taken for granted.

Backstage

Matsukawa: I was actually hoping you’d give me chocolate this year too~! Your kindness touches my heart!

Tetsuro: Thank you… this year too… I’ll savor… and eat it…

Akashi: Ah… Thank you for giving me chocolate this year as well. It’s always nice to receive chocolates, no matter how old you get.

Rento: Is it just me, or did the quality of yer chocolates get even better this year? Ya never cease ta amaze~

Sakoda: Thanks for the specially-made chocolate! I can just feel the love ya put in it!

[leeehye]

🫧˗ˏˋmy shy boy´ˎ˗ 🫧

[ summary ☁️] Seonghwa’s rejection to Y/n might turn out unexpected after time. But why did he reject her in the first place?

[ pairing ] nerd!seonghwa x prettygirl!reader /best friends to lovers

[ warnings ⚠️] none full fluff really. Just kissing- nothing happens, not fully proofread sorry

[ a/n 🍒] I’m sorry I’m taking long with the series, this is just a short drabble to make up 🌷

Y/n’s POV

I was finishing getting ready to go out with my best friend, Park Seonghwa, or as my other friends may know him, my long-time crush. Yet I have always lived a life of rejecting the truth ever since that day.

While putting in my earrings he came to my mind, and not like my best friend it made me remember that day, it was finals back in high school and I had invited him over to study for the math final.

We were sitting down on the floor in the living room each of us working and then tutoring each other like always and goofing around once in a while.

Until I caught myself admiring Seonghwa working on his iPad and then transferring information to his notes. His black hair, looked so soft and touchable, his big black eyes were focused on his work and his pretty lips gently parted as he mumbled what he wrote to himself.

I small smile formed on my face, before looking back at my laptop. I had developed a crush on Seonghwa probably since freshman year in high school and it was growing worse (bigger). We were in Senior year now, about to graduate and head to college and I was gathering the courage to tell him my feelings.

Though I had to admit it was scary, he was a really focused guy and he didn’t really talk about girls with me nor I have never seen him interested in love. As I was drowned in my thoughts his gentle voice let out a soft “oops” making me look. He had dropped his eraser and I smiled slowly reaching for it, and he did as well. Our fingertips gently touched.

We have held hands before, shared hugs or kiss each other’s heads but to me all of those little things mean more to me. But I am sure to him he just sees it as something normal. Like right now, the feeling of his warm fingers on my hand gave me soft butterflies on my belly.

Should I tell him right now? Gathering the courage I cleared my throat giving him his eraser before scooting closer to him our knees touching and I glanced at what he was looking at.

“um…Hwa?” I whispered to him, he hummed as he finished writing something before looking at me. I gulped softly swallowing the knot in my throat.

“have you ever…liked someone?” my question made his face turn into a confused one as his eyes moved to somewhere in the house as he seemed to think about it.

“oh…I had never actually thought about it Y/n…but I don’t think so…I think I’m just really focused on studying…I think I’m a weird nerd” he said laughing softly making me laugh with him shaking my head.

“no I don’t think so Hwa! Actually um…I think you’re really…cute” I finished my sentence quietly as he slowly stopped writing a formula in his notebook, but he didn’t look at me for a few seconds.

I was dying inside, wanting to take back everything but it was too late. I had told him what I thought of him but in a more honest tone. Which he quickly caught realizing I wasn’t joking, like we do.

His head slowly turns as his eyes meets mine. My body was hot, I couldn’t read him, his expression wasn’t good nor bad and I didn’t know what to expect.

Future me might regret it later but I slowly took the pencil off his hand and slowly his eyes watched my movements carefully and my hand slowly rested on his.

My eyes kept looking at him and taking the chance that his head was turned away, I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened and his hand gently flinched under mine.

He looked at me, moving his hand away as his mouth gently opened and closed trying to find the words. I somehow got the feeling that he didn’t feel that same. Letting me know this was a one-sided love.

“Y/n…what—” Seonghwa stutter as his hand slowly touched the spot that I kissed. My shoulders slowly dropped looking down.

“Y/n I don’t…I didn’t expect this” he finished saying as my heart slowly broke, I looked at him quickly moving away.

“I’m…I’m really sorry…you’re right…um…I think we’re ready for the final on Wednesday…” I whispered trying to calm down and change the subject. Trying to forget what had happened.

“I’m tired…You should get home before it gets dark” I said picking up my books and notebooks getting up leaving to my room, and then a cried all night, from embarrassment, pain and for probably ruining my friendship with Seonghwa.

After that incident, at school Seonghwa told me to forget about what had happened and to act like it never happened and from then our friendship continued but I was mire reserved while working on moving on from him.

I came back to reality when my mom knocked on the door, I quickly grabbed my bag and opened the door.“Sweetie, Seonghwa is here. I think he hust parked” my mom said as I walked out

After she said that the doorbell rang, and we both smiled. “Yup that’s him mom” I said giggling and we headed down. I got the door and opened it seeing Seonghwa smiling as soon as he saw me.

“Hi…” I said sweetly as he returned the greeting before my mom appeared behind me.

“Oh good evening Mrs. Kim” he said to my mom giving her a smile showing his pretty teeth. My mom giggled and sneakily elbowed me.

“Just to let you guys know, don’t rush on getting back, just don’t be to noisy just in case—” my mom started making my eyes go wide.

“mom!” I quickly said stopping her from finishing as my cheeks turned red. Seonghwa was wearing his focused faced with what my mom was saying, which he probably understood. Before smiling when I stopped my mom.

After saying goodnight to my mom I got out of the house closing the door behind me. I awkwardly smiled at Seonghwa.

“sorry for my mom…um where are we going?” I said softly while we walked to his car as he opened the door for me.

“I was thinking we could go to the park, and maybe do some stargazing and just walk around and grab some snacks on the way” he suggested and I smiled nodding happily.

To some people it may seem boring, mostly for this society but I loved how we both were old fashioned, mostly me. The way he was simple in his ideas made me like him more, but we were just friends. Yet I couldn’t stop seeing him as the guy that would write you letters, have a cute lego building night, a reading date. He was perfect for that.

We had finally reached the park and started walking to out usual stargazing spot. I smiled noticing he was carrying a fluffy blanket.

“What? You didn’t think I was going to let you sit on the grass right? It’s really itchy after” he said making me laugh at his comment.

“thank you Hwa…” I quietly said earning a smile from him. While reaching our spot I noticed an old lady with an ice cream stand.

“Ooh Hwa, can we get ice cream?” I asked grabbing him by his sleeve pulling him over hearing him giggle. Reaching the ice cream stand I looked inside before picking chocolate for me and strawberry for Seonghwa.

“How you know?” Seonghwa asked as I looked at him. “Hm…I just do…That’s how good I know you” I responded playfully winking at him before looking at the nice ild lady getting some cash from my pocket but Seonghwa held my hand.

Bringing back the feeling of his soft hand on mine I stayed quiet watching him pay instead and I gently grabbed my ice cream and he took his, he still had my hand in his.

Not wanting to be reminded of that day I took my hand away from his and giggled.

“Can I try your ice cream?” I asked him sweetly and he just smiled allowing me to ad he got his ice cream come to me, as I softly tried his ice cream and that’s when he gently pushed it towards me getting it on my lips and some on my nose making me squeal.

“Hwa!!” I whined giggling licking the ice cream off my lips pouting trying to get myself cleaned while he was laughing. After a fee laughs he took out some napkins and came close to me cleaning my nose. He was close I could smell the strawberries 🍓 in his breath.

God, Y/n you need to contain yourself like you’ve been doing all along. He had a smile on his lips while cleaning me, his movements slowed down, and I see his eyes darken. His glance from my nose went to my eyes, and slowly to my lips.

I did want to get ahead of myself and took the napkin from him. “Thank you Hwa! Come on the evening is beautiful!” I said changing the subject going to our usual spot under a cherry blossom tree, it was so pretty. It wasn’t windy but it was just perfect and some of them were flying off.

Seonghwa laid the blanket down and we took a seat finishing our ice cream. I admired the evening as time went on and the sky started to tint itself with pink and orange.

“it looks so pretty, don’t you think?” I asked “Hwa—” I asked turning my head to him already staring at me as he jumped quickly shaking his head waking up from whatever thoughts he was having.

“Yeah, yes it’s…really pretty…” Seonghwa responded with his soft stuttering voice. I showed him a smile and gently hit his arm

“Um…Y/n? Did you ever…felt bad or…were you ever embarrassed of me? For being the quiet…nerd?” Seonghwa asked me making me look at him in shock.

“Of course not Hwa! What kind of question is that?!” I exclaimed gently touching his arm and he gently gave me a closed smile.

“I was just curious, since a girl like you back in…high school…it would have been strange…since you were the pretty girl…you know?” Seonghwa was talking nervously and started to make no sense but it only made me giggle.

“So does that mean? Wait…back then, god I wish I could turn back time” he whispered making me confused, I slowly tilted my head feeling his hand on top of mine. I looked down at it, we were now in opposite roles from back then.

He came close and my heart started raising, his strawberry breath reached my senses and the butterflies from high school were felt again. His big eyes were on mine before moving down, to my lips.

I opened my mouth to try and word something but I couldn’t, not because I couldn’t find the words but because before I could talk he crashed his lips on mine.

I was frozen, he was kissing me for the first time, and not on the cheek like I did, on the lips, they were so soft. The way he softly moved them, making me kiss him back after a few seconds. Our lips worked in sync sharing a sweet and soft kiss.

His hand slowly rearranged itself and intertwined our fingers together before moving his other hand to the back of my head, making us drop down slowly laying me on the blanket.

I had waited for this for so long I couldn’t let it go to waist. Still kissing him we separated a few millimeters to catch our breath before continuing and that’s when I gently licked his lower lip, I felt his reaction to my sudden movement making me blush.

We slowly pull away followed with a soft wet sound, and we just looked at each other with smiles on our faces and I slowly touched his shirt gently fixing his hoodie.

“W-why until now?” I whispered to him gently kissing his chin making him smile shyly.

“Because I was a coward Y/n I think that’s the only explanation there is…” he started as he looked down before tuning him glance back at me.

“I was scared? Of what others might think, imagine the quiet nerd dating the prettiest and sweetest girl, the class president? I just…I think you were to much for me Y/n” he whispered softly pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“and you don’t know how much I regret not responding to you that day…everyday I thought about it…and well…I hope I’m not to late” Seonghwa whispered to me making me give him a sad smile.

He was getting out of his comfort zone and expressing his feelings for me, of course it wasn’t too late, my love for him was still there and he was new to all this, I couldn’t blame him. He was so cute!

“Of course it’s not too late Hwa…yes I was sad that day but our friendship was way more important but now that…I know how you feel I’m so happy” I said gently cupping his face as his cheeks tinted red and looked down shyly.

“Do you…want to…give me a chance? I promise to show you all my love, because I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you” Seonghwa whispered while admiring my eyes making me blush as I have him a gentle nod.

“Yes Hwa I will give you a chance, but you better not hurt me like that day” I said playfully kissing his cheek as he shook his head wanting to forget about that day before pecking my lips but I pulled him down into a more passionate kiss.

After sharing a passionate kiss he was laying down with one arm behind his head and the other arm around me as we watched the stars. I couldn’t ask for more, I loved my shy boy so much.

IM IN LOVE WITH PARK SEONGHWA 🤎 and this just made me love him more this is so cuteee!

I’m sorry for taking long on a dare after all and sweet truth I have been busy and I couldn’t really get into it fully! I posted this to update you guys with something ☕

Any interaction is really appreciated. 💕

[mactavishsgfandwife]

141 and Their Embarrassing Childhood Haircuts (HC)

just a silly idea i had about what funny haircuts the 141 boys would have been given as children (that they would definitely find embarrassing) and how they’d react to you seeing it simon’s is a little sad (☹️) but mostly just silly fluff not proofread because it’s wayy too long (oops)

his aunt leaves the both of you alone in the sitting room, on her way to procure some tea for you all. on your own in the room with him, you begin to wander around and inspect the mementos that line the walls. your fingers trace a trail along the top of the bookshelf and over the filing cabinet, before you turn your attention to the collection of little family photos on the mantelpiece.

mostly, they’re photos of relatives you don’t recognise - wedding photos, holiday snaps, the compulsory photo of a toddler in a bubble bath - but right in the middle is a small blue picture frame, with little angels painted around it and, well, the photo inside…

you burst into a fit of giggles and his head turns from the random bowl he was closely inspecting, on the side table next to his seat, to you.

"what is it?" he grins as he looks up at you, amused.

but when you turn the picture frame to him so that he can see, that entertained chuckle turns into an audible groan…

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

i feel like simon was definitely that kid in class when you were about 6 who had a shaved head

like, a little boy with a buzzcut that was never allowed to be grown out

si probably got some judgement as a little kid for looking a bit ‘rough’ :( when in reality he was just a normal, sweet kid who liked batman and angel delight (this cheap pudding from the 70s that we have in england which you mix with milk to make a mousse kind of thing, it’s lowkey so good and it’s random but i swear simon would have loved angel delight as a kid)

i reckon his dad buzzed his hair and probably wasn’t very gentle about it

a photo of simon as a little kid, in his blue primary school uniform. he’s got no hair - well, as close to no hair as you can get without actually razoring it off. gappy teeth, a big smile and the beginnings of adult si’s strong nose. he’s pretty cute, and the photo is a little yellowed from age, with a little tear in the corner.

"oh, god…" he groans, finding the photo a little humorous, "don’t remind me."

"you look so cute!" you laugh softly, "how old were you here..?"

"pfft… probably about 6 or 7," he shrugs, seeming a little dismissive.

"have you ever not had a buzzcut?"

"you’re not seeing those photos, love," he laughs out loud, and stands up to take the photograph from you.

he goes to put the photo back, to bring the focus of the conversation to something else, but for a second you think you almost catch his thumb gently stroke the cheek of the little boy in the photo, a momentary sadness in his eyes. but that’s only for a moment, and as he places the frame back into its proper place, he grins and turns to you.

"what, y’think it’s a good look? reckon it’d suit you, we could match."

Captain John Price

bowl cut.

i just imagine price’s mum placing a literal bowl on his head and just cutting around it, as he sits on a stool in the kitchen

and he would have turned up to school the next day feeling like such a handsome little boy because his mum had told him how smart he looked 😭 bless

a photo of price, wearing his scouts uniform with pride, turned slightly to the side to display the ‘merseyside scouts’ patch on his sleeve and the union jack on his chest - but the star of the show was that ungodly bowl cut on his head. it was like something out of an old yearbook photo, and he looked very pleased with himself and all his scouts badges, despite the medieval squire-esque trim. it was funny, but he was also a really cute kid.

"ah," he chuckled, standing up to get a better look, "blimey, what a haircut…"

"i like it! i think you should go back to this, honey. it’s a good look."

"i’m not so sure about that," he teases, "but if you really want me to…"

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

johnny is pretty energetic, i feel like he would definitely have cut his own hair as a kid - terrible fringes and very wonky moptops galore. and he definitely did it more than once.

imagine his mum is just making tea, having left him playing with some arts and crafts supplies. but when he runs in giggling, a pair of paper scissors in his hand, she screams and almost drops the saucepan. much to his amusement

"JOHNNY, DÈ RINN THU?!" (johnny, what have you done?!) as she chases him down the hallway to take the scissors away before he can do any more damage

it’s a photo of johnny, aged 5 or 6, beaming as he poses with the glasgow rangers goalkeeper allan mcgregor. you only know who he is because johnny’s mentioned once or twice before meeting the goalkeeper of some random scottish football team in 2002, as if he met brad pitt or the king of england.

at first, it looks like his hair was ruffled by the football player, but then you realise… it’s just cut like that? as johnny peeks over your shoulder, he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"oh, i remember! best day of my life at the time. until I met you, that is," he grins.

"i like the haircut," you tease, pointing to his uneven fringe in the photo, with random patches of long and short hair scattered throughout.

"oh, aye, i was a little hairdresser!"

"don’t quit your day job," you smirk, gently placing the photo frame back down on the mantlepiece. he laughs at the cheeky grin appearing on your face, and shakes his head,

"aww, y’don’t like it? thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive, y’know."

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

honestly i wasn’t sure what to write for gaz, given i don’t think he would be rocking the literal bowl cut or walking around bald at 5 years old

but like every victim of curly hair ever (i can relate) i bet he got something stuck in his hair 😭 whether that was comb, or gum, or something really random (once i genuinely got a live snake stuck in my hair lmfao)

"kyle, look!" you laugh, beckoning him over to look at the photo you found. when he sees it, he lets out a groan…

"god, my scalp still hurts from that…" he laughs softly, rubbing his head as he looks at the photo of himself at 8 or so years old. with a superman action figure stuck in his hair. how did that happen? honestly, who knows. his eyes are a little red, and his cheeks are shiny from tears, but it seems like he’d cheered up by the time the photo was taken, giggling at himself with a big smile on his face, as his mum desperately tried to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into.

"how do you even do that?" you grin, feeling his hand resting on your back, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your spine. he shrugs, with a laugh.

"i really don’t know. had to embrace baldness for a bit, but i think i was more upset that superman got thrown in the bin. that was the real tragedy."

"aww… i’ll buy you a new one, if you like," you tease, just as his aunt returns with the tea.

this. took. YEARS. to write. 😭 and it’s miles long. thanks for reading!