#kid-friendly purses

[mekyrdesign]

Introducing the Neon 90s Diaper Backpack, the ultimate blend of style and functionality for modern parents. This vibrant backpack features a playful, retro design that pays homage to the bold colors of the 90s. With multiple pockets and spacious compartments, the Neon 90s Diaper Backpack ensures you have easy access to all your baby essentials while keeping your hands free. Embrace nostalgia and practicality with the Neon 90s Diaper Backpack, where fashion meets convenience!

[majinbangus]

happy birthday little simon

"You're inviting me to the lad's birthday?"

At this point in time, he kind of expects to get a knock on his door more times in a week than he ever did during the entire duration he's lived in this flat. Most weekdays- when you leave for work and drop off your lad at school- the boy likes to make a quick stop to say good morning. It's become somewhat of a routine. Sometimes it's a sleepy greeting, but little Simon is a cheerful child who has taken an odd liking to him, and vice versa.

"If you can make it."

Then there's you. The sunny child's mother. An easy presence to be in. Refreshing like the ocean breeze during a calm day. Something addictive he can't get enough of.

"When is it?"

This is new. You switched up the routine by coming a second time at midday after he returned from the gym, freshly showered. You faired better when he opened the door compared to that one time. Granted, he was fully dressed, but it was a little disappointing; however, you did have a reason for visiting.

He could tell by the tension surrounding your eyes. Focused like you were on a mission. He supposes you technically are on one. Inviting Simon to your boy's birthday.

"Saturday."

He furrows his brows. "This Saturday?"

"Yes."

"That's tomorrow."

"I know it's a bit last minute, but..." You sigh, running a frustrated hand over your face, frowning at the ground. "No one RSVP'd."

"No one?" Simon nearly growls, offended on the lad's behalf. "What about his friends? The little fuckers don't want to come?

You purse your lips, crossing your arms. "We sent out invites to all his classmates, but ever since we moved, Simon's been having trouble making friends."

"He has trouble?"

"It's not his fault!" You snap before grimacing, lowering your voice, "Sorry, it's just... Simon tries to make friends, but kids are mean, you know? They're young, but they already have their established friend groups and exclude him because he's new."

New. Different. Any reason along those lines. It doesn't matter to kids. Or it does, and that's why they're unjustly cruel to their peers. He understands. Simon grew up with many of his schoolmates avoiding him for being 'weird', not knowing his home life. Tommy had 'friends' but they weren't exactly a good crowd.

"So you want me to come?" Simon asks, and he's met with a tired expression he's never seen on you before—not even when you were sick and weak and needed to be looked after. You look as if you hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, about to collapse.

"He tries not to let it get him down, but if no one shows up..." You bite your lip, a flash of pain in your eyes at the thought of your son hurting. "Please? He likes you, and even if you're the only one who shows up, it'll mean a lot to him."

Simon looks at you. Really looks at you and takes in the desperation in your eyes. You look as if you'd do anything to convince him to come. Even fight him. Tie him up. Anything to drag him to your son's party. You'd probably do it, mother bear that you are.

But you don't need to do that. You won't ever have to fight another battle. Not if he can help it. Simon will fight your battles for you from now on.

"I'll come."

You have his devotion. You and your boy.

"Really?" You brighten up, the hopeless look in your eyes washing away.

He nods. "I'll bring a mate with some brats around your lad's age. They're friendly. They'll like him."

"Will they? Are you sure your friend will be okay with it?"

"They will, and the bastard owes me one, anyway."

No, he doesn't, but Johnny will pull through. Him and his seemingly endless amount of nieces and nephews, although he'll only need to bring a few.

A wide smile breaks out on your face, bright like the sun, and oh- that's where your boy got his grin. Without warning, you leap into his arms, forceful enough to make him grunt. You hug him, burying your face into his shoulder with Simon's hands hovering at your waist, fingers twitching.

It's rare to catch him off guard. So many new sensations fill his senses. Your warmth, surrounding him like a blanket; your scent, sweet and calming with a freshness to it that makes him want to bury his face into your neck and inhale. Or maybe he would bite into your soft skin to see if you taste as pleasant as you smell. If he wasn't so controlled, he probably would sate his curiosity right now.

You stiffen, your body tensing as if you're aware of what you've done, and move to back away, but Simon stops you, resting his hands on your hips. You gently melt your body against his again.

"Thank you, Simon," You softly murmur into his shoulder. It's a quiet sound, but he hears it and lets his arms wrap you in a full hug. You melt against his body, sighing. He doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before. "And just so you know... it means a lot to me, too, that you're coming."

-

Simon: > Johnny

Johnny: > Yeah, lt?

Simon: > You busy tomorrow?

Johnny: > Yes? > I have a date with that bonnie piano teacher I told you about > ... why

Simon: > Cancel it > Have something I need you to do

Johnny: > Work related?

Simon: > No

Johnny: > Then why can't you do it?

Simon: > I'm already on it > Cancel your date

Johnny: > Then why do you need me? > I'm not gonna cancel my date you dobber

-

"Cannae believe ye made us come all the way to fuckin' Manchester. Do y'know how many fuckin' hours ye made us drive, Ghost? The wee ones didnae like gettin' up so arse fuckin' early, either-"

"Shut up, Johnny. You owed me one."

"I didnae?!"

A giggle from Soap's bonnie piano teacher. "You're accent thickens when you're upset, John."

"Today was supposed to be our date!"

"It's not so bad. I still get to spend time with you."

"... Guess not, but I'll take you out proper tomorrow, promise."

"See, Johnny? Everyone wins."

"Awa’ an bile yer heid, Ghost."

-

Despite all his complaining, Johnny is a good guest and keeps the children entertained, playing the part of the fun uncle by letting the kids wrestle or play tag with him, not minding the grass stains as they roughhouse in the park. Currently, he's playing an informal football game with them—six vs. one. He's mostly blocking the ball from entering the goal, but it's still fun for all of them.

Little Simon is extra happy with his new friends. He's been smiling nonstop since they all introduced themselves, grin extra proud when he revealed his name.

("Like Uncle Simon's?"

"Yeah, he says it's a fine name!")

You also haven't stopped smiling ever since they arrived. Not quite as big as your boy's grin, but it still hasn't left. You and Soap's date get along swimmingly, too. He can already tell you'll be good friends with the teacher.

"Not gonna join them?"

Simon looks to see you standing next to him under the tree, watching the children as Soap 'misses' a shot from one of his nephews.

"Where's your friend?" He asks instead.

"Went looking for a bathroom." You gesture vaguely in the direction Soap's date disappeared off to. "So, not gonna play?"

He shakes his head. "Johnny's got it."

"Oh?" The suspiciously innocuous tone makes his eyes narrow. "Is it because he's the better footballer between you two?"

Simon slowly turns towards you, glaring with no real heat, but it still doesn't stop your panicked giggle when he takes a half step in your direction, making you back up against the tree. He gets closer and leans into your space, nearly brushing his front against yours. You audibly gulp, and Simon places a palm on the tree, hand right next to your head. He gets close to your face, watching your eyes widen then dart down to look at somewhere on the bottom half of his face before meeting his eyes again. You bite your lip.

"Repeat that for me, sweetheart." Simon growls softly, and you give a sharp, little inhale.

"U-um. I'd rather... not." Your voice comes out breathy, and you place a hand on his chest as if to stabilize yourself.

"I wasn't asking." He doesn't give you a chance to breathe, leaning in closer, and your fingers dig a little into his pec, making his muscles flex under your touch. "I'll say again: repeat that for me."

With nowhere to run, pinned to a tree, you tremble against his body, breathing heavily and barely able to meet his eyes, licking your lips. It takes you a moment to build up the nerve to speak with Simon surrounding your senses.

"I um... I um-"

"Simon, Uncle Johnny said to come play with us!"

Instantly, he backs away from you and turns around to see your boy running over. Behind him, he hears you exhale a quiet, little, "Fuck..."

Fuck, indeed.

He turns his attention to the lad once he comes to a stop in front of him. "Is that what he said?"

"Uh-huh! He said we're giving him trouble, and it'll make it more fair so he's not the only one guarding."

Simon looks over to where Johnny stands with the football held casually to the side between his arm and waist. The man smirks knowingly, glancing between you and Simon before giving a cheeky wave. He glares back. "I'll show him trouble."

"What did you say, Simon?"

He looks back at your boy. "Nothing. I'll come play."

The lad's eyes brighten with a celebratory cheer, grabbing his wrist and leading the way to the field. Simon looks back to see you better composed, if a little disheveled, but smiling nonetheless at the two like they're the only ones who matter.

-

After cake and presents, the children return to playing football with the new football that Soap gave as a present for little Simon, along with your boy wearing a jersey from the Scot's favorite team. A petty move from Soap, in Simon's opinion, but he'll let him have this one. He'll get your boy cheering for Man United soon enough.

The adults hang back in their own pairs. Soap and his date finally getting a moment to themselves, nibbling on cake and talking about whatever it is they talk about at the picnic table, and you and Simon are back under the tree, keeping a respectable distance between each other.

"Kid seems happy," Simon idly notes, watching your boy laugh and play with the younger MacTavish's. "You did good."

"Me?" You glance at him. "You were the one to bring a tiny tribe to Simon's birthday. Look at him. That smile is because of you."

"That smile is because you're a good mum," Simon states in a way that leaves no room for questions. "You were the one who made today happen. You gave your lad the birthday he deserved. He'll remember this."

Like how Simon remembers his mum doing her best to give him and Tommy the birthdays they deserved, no matter how small the celebration was.

You're looking at him as if you can't quite believe he's real, a cute, astonished look adorning your face. He's tempted to make a comment about it until you give a quiet, amazed laugh, reaching for his hand to give it a grateful squeeze. You don't pull away, and he doesn't let go.

"Even so, Simon had a great seventh birthday, and a lot of it is because of you. You did more than you had to- more than his father ever did! Bastard didn't even send a happy birthday text, son of a bitch." You exhale a heavy, calming breath. "But never mind that... What I'm trying to say is thank you. You didn't have to do what you did, and ever since we met, you've been really good to him."

You shoot him a teasing look. "What's your secret? Have a hidden family out there or something?"

A darker part of Simon is tempted to laugh. You're kind of right, in a messed up way, but he doesn't hold it against you. He hums, contemplating. "I had a nephew."

"Had?" The information takes another second to process. "Oh! I mean..."

"Don't have to say anything." Simon stares out to where the kids are playing. He imagines another boy running among them. Both younger and older than the children out in the field. Taken too young with no opportunity to grow. To live. He squeezes your hand. "He reminds me of him. Joseph. Would have been a couple years older than your lad by now, but I think they would have gotten along."

"Think so?" You send him a soft smile, stepping closer to hug his arm. "Tell me more about him?"

Simon looks at you, the warmth of your body pressed against him, and it suddenly feels like there's no one else in the world. There's just you and him under this tree, with your boy's laughter ringing like bells in the air, and that's when it hits.

Settle down... He's finally starting to get it, Tommy.

-

soap's piano teacher is something i want to write out, but idk if i'll get to it

[nanaslutt]

Rivalry

synopsis: Geto and Gojo learn to share (you)

cont: fem reader, they're all 'friends', masturbation, oral (they eat you out together), making out (satosugu), competitiveness, arguing, teasing, dirty talk, choking, hand jobs, so much sexual tension it hurts

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Satoru jabs his shoulder into Suguru's not acknowledging it as he pulled your thigh over his shoulder harder, bringing your cunt more towards him. Geto felt the vein in his forehead pop out as he tsked loudly, repeating the same action Gojo had just done to him, his warm fingers digging into your other thigh as he tried and failed to pull you more towards him thanks to Satoru's iron grip. 

The duo continued giving each other painfully obvious side eyes and noises of disgust at the other. "Hey... hey- hey!!" You snapped, snapping the men out of their childish fight as their heads turned to face yours. You propped your arms behind you on the bed, looking down at them with a scowel. "Stop fucking fights, you assholes are stretching my legs too much I can feel my ligaments ripping." You said dramatically.

Your legs were spread so far apart to accommodate both obnoxiously wide and built men, you were already struggling enough, and now they were trying to pull you apart like some dog toy. "It seems like you two are more interested in yourselves than me. Maybe this wasn't a good idea." You said with a scowl, ready to end this before it even started. 

"No! no, no, we'll behave." Gojo said quickly, panic evident in his tone as he took your words seriously. "Won't we, Suguru?" The white-haired man looked over at the man next to him with a faux smile plastered on his face. Suguru's lip twitched as he forced his own smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right, sorry pretty." He replied, pursing his lips at his best friend before he directed his eyes at you once more, his expression immediately softening. 

"Yeah?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked between the two of them. "You mean it? You really won't fight anymore?" You continued, a hint of malicious intent behind your tone. The boys must've picked up on it because neither of them dared to move, their faces void of emotion as they looked at you expectantly, knowing something else was coming.

"Then kiss." 

It was cartoonish the way their jaws dropped in tandem, they stayed silent as they waited for you to say 'just kidding', but it never came. "What? If you're so friendly now, what's a little kiss, hm?" You said, trying to hold back your laughter at their expressions, "Unless..." You continued, your voice tone changing to one laced with faux uncertainty, "...you guys lied? You're going to keep fighting huh? Might as well end this now in that case-" Your words got caught in your throat as Gojo turned his head toward Geto and grabbed his neck harshly, forcing their faces together as he kissed him harshly.

"Oh~" You cooed, your eyebrows raising at the unexpected action. Truthfully, you were only teasing them, but you guessed they were taking this more seriously than you thought, just how bad did they want you? "Mmm!" Geto moaned against his best friend's lips in surprise as he stilled, his lips not moving against Gojo's as he did all the work, slotting his lips against Geto's.

Suguru's hand gripped Gojo's wrist in a warning as the white-haired man's fingers dug into the sides of his neck dominatingly. There was no way Geto was going to let Satoru take charge like this. You felt yourself throb between your legs when Geto released Gojo's hand and took his slender neck in his the same way Gojo was doing to him. When he squeezed, a choked moan was released from Gojo's lips into the kiss.

He had expected Geto to fight back, but he didn't expect him to be so rough. Geto started moving his mouth against Gojo's, trying to gain control. The two of them were quite literally fighting with their lips. The kiss was full of teeth, tongue, and spit as the growled agaisnt the other's lips. Saliva was dripping down Gojo's chin from how harshly Geto was licking into his mouth as he fought Gojo's tongue for dominance.

But the stubborn blue-eyed man wasn't one to back down from a fight. He tried to ignore the throbbing he felt in his boxers as he choked Geto out while he tongued his mouth, trying to stick his tongue down the other's throat. Their eyes stayed open for the most part as they looked into the eyes of the other challengingly, only fluttering shut briefly when one squeezed the other's neck, they must both be sensitive there.

"Okay, okay. I think you guys have proved yourselves." You giggled, interrupting their kiss. They detached their lips from the other at the sound of your voice, almost like they were in a daze and your voice was the key that set them free. Both men breathed heavily with red faces and lidded eyes as they looked at the other. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" You asked, trying to ignore the intense throbbing you felt between your thighs so you could tease them a little more. 

Geto released his hand from Gojo's neck, making the other follow suit before he looked between your legs and noticed a drop of your slick was sliding down your inner thigh. Suguru smirked as he wiped up the trail of your arousal before he wiped his finger through your folds, making your body jolt in surprise as he smeared the wetness agaisnt your clit, "Yeah... guess you liked it too, huh?" He asked, smirking as he slowly rubbed your little bud with his pointer finger. 

Gojo couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt between his thighs any longer as he watched Geto rub your swollen clit. He started grinding his hips into the sheets for some relief as he gripped your thigh over his shoulder for support, taking in the sight in front of him greedily. 

"H-hey... I didn't say you could touch me yet." You spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke, the task proving incredibly difficult from Geto's light teasing touch. "No?" he replied, it was his turn to tease you now. "But you're begging for it down here, should I just ignore what she wants? That doesn't seem very nice." Geto spoke, referring to your cunt like it was a person. 

You stayed silent, trying to hold your moans and whines back from his ministrations. "Cmon Satoru, back me up." He said, surprising the man on his left. That kiss really had done wonders, just earlier they were fighting about who got to be closer to your cunt and now they were working together to touch you? In your heart, you knew this comradery wouldn't last long, but it was nice to see if only for a little bit. 

Satoru didn't even look Suguru's way, instead, his eyes stayed zeroed in on your pussy as he reached out and used his index and middle fingers to drag through your folds near the entrance of your pussy and scoop up some of your wetness there while Geto rubbed your clit. "Oh fuck... you're right, that kiss did more for you than it did for us, huh?" Gojo teased, rubbing circles around your tight entrance teasingly, making you think he might slip his fingers in at any moment. 

Satoru looked towards the man next to him when he laughed incredulously, clearly not a sound that was backing up his previous words, no, this laugh was directed at him. "Don't play coy, I saw how you were rutting your hips against the bed. Kissing me got your dick all stiff huh?" Geto teased, laughing at his best friend. Gojo tsked, his lips curling in a snarl. He was right though, although it wasn't all from the kiss, Gojo couldn't deny that the little interaction they shared had made him horny, maybe even made him leak in his boxers a little.

"Look who's acting all high and mighty when you're as hard as I am right now. Your lucky your laying on your stomach, I bet your boner is so fucking obvious through those thin-ass shorts." Gojo shot back, both the men's fingers on your pussy pausing as they started arguing once more. You sighed, you knew they wouldn't be able to get along for longer than five minutes.

"Do you want to kiss again?" You asked, your words immediately ceasing all arguing between the boys. Honestly, they both didn't mind the kiss, they could both agree internally the other was a good kisser and they were pretty easy on the eyes, but they would rather die than admit that out loud, hence why their big egos made them shut their mouth when you threatened them with a kiss. 

"Really? You hated it that much?" You giggled, shaking your head at their childishness. "So I guess you would really hate touching each other too, right?" Your words sent chills down their spine, but not in a negative way, in a pleasant way, which shocked them both. They had pecked on the lips as high schoolers teasingly and jerked off in the same room while watching porn together once or twice, but they had never dared to cross that line.

Their silence spoke volumes, you watched their eyes dart around the room as their faces scrunched in embarrassment. You decided to give them a break, not wanting to push them too hard, but you weren't going to give up on this so easily. "Relax, it was just a question." You said, easing the tension that had filled up the room. 

"It's not nice to tease people you know," Gojo replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his hair tickling your skin. You gasped quietly in surprise, your body squirming against the sheets as he continued pressing kisses against you. "A-all you do is tease people Satoru." You replied before Geto could, effectively stopping yet another argument. Geto smirked when you took the words right out of his mouth.

"I'm older than you, you should treat your elders with respect. Picking on you builds character." He replied, making you snort. 'Elders', he wasn't even that much older than you. You were about to respond when you felt his lips kiss your pussy, right against your folds below your throbbing clit. "Did that feel good?" He asked, repeating the action, making your hands fall into his hair, carding through the strands.

Looking over to Geto you noticed his face looked more relaxed than he did seconds ago. His eyes were more lidded and his mouth was slightly open in a small o as he watched Gojo kiss your pussy, not yet using his tongue against you. It was only when you noticed his shoulder moving up and down that you realized why he looked so flushed, he was touching himself. He swallowed hard before biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes briefly closing as he palmed himself over his shorts for some relief. 

"Suguru... I want you to touch me too." You replied. It was so obvious he wanted to join in but didn't really know where to fit in. He was practically salivating as he watched Gojo kiss where he wanted to put his own lips. He looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile, one that made your heart skip in your chest. "Yeah? Want me to lick your pussy?" He asked, starting to lean his head closer to where you needed him.

"Hey, there's no room for you down here, go somewhere else," Gojo responded, dragging his lips down your thighs on Geto's side to emphasize his words. "Make room then," Geto responded, knocking his head against Gojo's as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh where Gojo just did. In his head, he was erasing Gojo's kisses, such a childish thought. 

You abandoned one of your hands on Gojo's head to rest on Geto's, digging your fingers into his hair. "P-please... do something." You begged, your voice coming out needier than you were expecting. "Ohh? Were you just telling me how you didn't give me permission to touch you? Are you giving me permission now?" Gojo asked, trying to make your words all about him.

You dug your fingers deeper into his hair, you felt your annoyance much stronger with how aroused you were, you weren't in the mood to be teased by him anymore. "Yes, fuck, both of you. C'mon, hurry." You instructed, pushing both of their heads towards where you needed them the most. 

The two men were so absorbed in their own little world with you that they bumped heads when they both tried to lick your clit at the same time. "Fuck, Satoru moves your head, I wanna suck her clit." Geto growled, knocking his head against his once more, on purpose this time. "No, you move, that's what I was going to do." Gojo shot back, his face flushed with his arousal and need to touch you.

You sighed, staying quiet this time as you wanted to see where this fight took them. Maybe they were able to figure something out without your interference, but if they couldn't, you would have to step in and fix their attitudes. 

"You're so annoying, get your own ideas," Geto responded, shoving Gojo's head harshly against your thigh, successfully pushing him out of the way so he could latch onto your clit. You gasped when you felt the plushness of his lips around your neglected bud, your back arching at the stimulation. Gojo snarled as he watched Geto get the first real taste of you, but he couldn't deny the harsh twitch of his cock in his boxers when he caught a glimpse of Geto's soft tongue poking out between his lip as he caressed your clit with it.

Gojo decided he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway, and in the process, make Geto so uncomfortable that he let Gojo take his current place in sucking your clit. His next actions had your pussy clenching around nothing. Gojo leaned in and tilted his head at an angle before sticking his tongue out and forcing his tongue under Geto's to poke at your clit.

Geto had felt Gojo's soft hair tickle the side of his face when he leaned in, but he figured the man was going to suck you lower or tongue fuck you, not make out with him while trying to lick your clit. Surugu's eyes cracked open in disbelief but not once did he cease his tongue's movements agaisnt you. Gojo moaned against your pussy with a smile on his face as he rubbed your clit with his soft tongue.

"O-oh fuck" You moaned, your back arching and legs threatening to snap in on their heads as they ate you out together. Geto's first instinct was to fight Gojo with his tongue but he realized that might hurt you in the process, and this was about making you feel good, not about his own personal grievances. 

Sighing, he tilted his head at an angle like Gojo's and released his lips from around your clit, opting to just stick his tongue out and bat the little bud with his tongue. Gojo huffed out a laugh at Geto's compromise, feeling like he had one somehow, even though he was doing the same thing Geto was.

"K-keep doing that!" You praised, realizing the men had calmed down a bit and were now slowly starting to figure out that working together can be better than working alone. "F-feels so good when you g-guys do that." Your head tipped back against the sheets as you whined their names freely, your nails digging against both of their scalps.

The longer they ran their tongues over your folds and occasionally licked each other, the more the tension dissipated and turned into a more carnal sense of need for pleasure. Gojo started trying to intentionally follow where Geto's tongue was, not only to increase the pleasure you were feeling but because it felt good to touch his tongue to Geto's. It felt forbidden, which made his whole body feel hot. 

Geto quickly caught on. At first, they were licking at your clit together, then they fell into a sort of rhythm where one of them tongued near your entrance while the other licked your clit, alternating like that. But now, they were trying to be in the same place at once, and it was heightening Geto's sensitivity.

The way no one was saying anything about it either made them feel even hotter like they were pretending nothing weird was happening. "I'm so hard." Gojo mumbled needily into your pussy, getting a coo of his name from you followed by a "Touch yourself for me." And touch himself he did. 

Geto had paused on touching himself when he started licking you, focusing more on what his tongue was doing than his hand. Once he watched Gojo sneak his hand under his body to jerk himself off in the tight space of his crotch being pressed against the bed, he started rubbing himself too. He had pushed his own arousal to the side, but from the taste of your cunt, your noises, and the constant push and pull from Gojo, he could no longer contain himself once Gojo stopped holding back.

"Mmm... fuck... I- I wanna fuck you so bad." Gojo whined against you, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy. Geto's face heat up at Gojo's words. He slowly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers when his arousal grew too much. Suguru always was a whore for dirty talk. "Y-your fingers, fuck me with your fingers-" You cried, humping your hips towards their faces.

When Gojo detached his lips from your pussy to get a good look at your tight little hole, Geto took the opportunity to suckle your clit back into his mouth now that he had it all to himself. "So sweet, so fucking sweet." He mumbled, squeezing his hand around his cock harder when he felt your little bud throb in his mouth. Gojo bit his lip and quickened his strokes on himself as he started humping his hand like a fleshlight, the slide eased by how wet he was from all the pre-cum he had been leaking. 

"Geto stop for a second, I can't see," Gojo said, his voice abandoned of any real malice and instead replaced with raw need. Geto obliged, pulling his lips away from you begrudgingly, he parted your folds with his fingers for Gojo while the white-haired man rubbed two thick fingers agaisnt your tight entrance, teasing you. "You're being so nice to me now." Gojo giggled, looking over at his best friend who was holding you open for him. 

"Shut up and finger her so I can go back to eating her out." Geto deflected, ignoring the fact that Gojo was right, he was becoming too pussydrunk to fight with Gojo like before. Gojo giggled as he started to press his fingers into you, breaching your tight hole. "Satoru!!" You cried, making him bite his lip as he penetrated you fully, his fingers sliding inside you to the hilt with ease thanks to your wetness. 

"You're so fucking tight baby... fuckkk I can only imagine how well this pretty pussy takes cock." He fantasized, making his own, and Geto's cock twitch at the mental image. With lidded eyes, Gojo started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you before he looked to Geto, "Go ahead, she's all yours." he said with a smirk.

Geto wasted no time in sucking your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head agaisnt you as he abused you little bud. Your head was going fuzzy, the way Gojo was curling his fingers into your gspot was making you cant your hips against Geto's mouth, forcing his tongue to rub you harder. "W-wait, wait, I think I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your arms shaking from the intensity of the building orgasm.

"Yeahhh? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Let Suguru lick up your cum?" He cooed, smirking at you. Gojo's cock throbbed against the sheets when he released his hand from his cock and placed it over yours atop Geto's head, shoving him harder into your cunt. Geto moaned in surprise but internally groaned as he knew Gojo was most definitely smearing his precum all over his pretty hair.

"C'monn, you're doing the heavy lifting here," Gojo spoke to Geto who was now furiously sucking your clit, alternating between the latter motion and flattening his tongue against you and rubbing back and forth. Each time his tongue accidentally touched the base of Gojo's fingers when he pulled them out of you, and he got a taste of your wetness from the inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. How was it possible for someone to taste so sweet?

"Shit- wait- fuck I'm r-really cumming-" You cried, feeling a ball of something more intense well up in your tummy. Your words made Geto groan loudly against you, the sound coming out muffled from how hard he was pressed agaisnt you. Geto was focusing more on his tip now as he tried to bring himself to the brink of orgasm with you, but the tight space in which he was pressed against the sheets was making it hard for him to get the proper stimulation.

"Let it out, we got you baby we got you." Gojo cooed, speaking for the both of them as you rode Geto's face and his fingers. Gojo's jaw dropped with your own as your body stilled and you came. Only this wasn't like one of your regular orgasms. A warm feeling spread throughout your whole body as you came, the tight bundle in your tummy had snapped and you squirted all over Geto's hungry tongue.

Gojo moaned loudly as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm, groaning through his teeth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his mouth and tried to drink up as much of your wetness as he could. You could barely hear Gojo's whistle as your orgasm clouded all of your senses. You shook and writhed agaisnt the sheets as the boys worked you through possibly one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had. 

"O-oh-" Your stomach clenched and your body jerked in on yourself as your orgasm ended and you were thrown into overstimulation when Geto continued eating you out, too pussydrunk on you to realize you had already finished. "Easyyy~" Gojo said softly, gripping Geto's hair harshly as he yanked him up and away from you. The man was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and covered with your cum as he was pulled away.

The bed sheets and your thighs were stained wet with your cum. You had no time to be embarrassed though as the only thing on your mind was getting the boys to cum too. "C-come here." You said softly, releasing their head simultaneously and nodding at them to get closer. Gojo moved quicker than Geto, who seemed to still be in a daze as they rose from their place between your thighs, your legs falling against the bed limply.

Once they were both sitting on their heels by your chest, looking at you expectantly, you stuck out your hands in an O shape. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what you were wanting from them. You gave both men a fucked out smile as they hastily worked on pulling their erect cocks out of their pants. Geto held his cock out over your chest, stroking it slowly as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, it clearly wasn't going to take much to get him to cum. 

Looking over at Gojo, he was already fitting his cock in your weak O-shaped hand, waiting for you to jerk him off. "C'mon... you wanna touch us right?" He asked, trying to mask his need with that teasing voice of his. You smiled softly before you took both of their cocks in your soft hands and began stroking them off together, keeping the same pace and speed for both of them.

"H-hahh..." Both of their moans were mingling and tangling together, you couldn't tell who's belonged to whom. Geto was staring at your hand in a trance as you jerked him off. His mouth fluttered open like a fish out of water, his breathing coming out stuttered and uneven, you knew he was close. Gojo on the other hand, was entranced with the slick that was dripping down Geto's chin.

He licked his lips before he made a split-second decision to taste it. They had already crossed so many unspoken boundaries today, what was one more? Leaning forward, Gojo placed his hand on the back of Geto's neck and pulled his unsuspecting face toward him. Suguru's breath caught in his lungs when he felt Gojo's tongue collect the cum from his neck and chin, the white-haired man making a path from the bottom of his face to his lips, before he connected them together like before, this time of their own volition.

"Fuck.." You cursed, your face heating up as you watched the men's tongues tangle with each other. "You guys are so fucking hot." Geto groaned at your words, both of his hands wrapping around the back of Gojo's neck as he kept him against his face, relishing in how good his best friend's tongue felt against his. "I'm so close baby, keep going- f-fuck." Gojo groaned against Geto's lips, his fingers caressing the other's neck harder as his orgasm approached.

The sounds coming from their lips were so vulgar, combined with their desperate moans it was making your cunt throb. "God... m-my tip, focus on my tip," Geto instructed, starting to thrust his hips into your hand, aiding you in pleasuring him. "Your tip is sensitive?" Gojo asked, pulling away from Geto's lips to whisper against them. "I remember that when we jerked off before, you didn't notice it but I was watching you. Watching how squirmy you got when you touched yourself there." Gojo teased, working Geto up with his words.

"Ohooo, this is interesting." You giggled, feeling the men drip steady streams of pre-cum over your hand, making the vulgar squelching noises echo louder in the room. "S-shut the fuck up, S-Satoru-" Gojo spit back, averting his eyes from his bestfriend. Gojo let Geto pull his head back, their hands dropping from each other as they became seconds from cumming.

"God... god your hand feels so good princess, I-I'm gonna cum-" Geto whined, his eyes finding yours as his face scrunched in pleasure. "Cum for me Suguru, wanna watch you when you cum." You replied, making him groan loudly as his cock throbbed in your hand. "Heyyy~ You're making me feel left out," Gojo whined childishly, his hands wrapped around your smaller one that held his cock before he started thrusting into it, squeezing your hand tighter around him.

You looked over at him and shook your head as if the two men didn't just make out on top of you while you jerked them off. Your gaze was swiftly corrected by Geto's hand that gripped your chin, making you look at him. "S-said you wanted to watch me cum." He moaned, his voice breathy and high-pitched. "W-watch- f-fuck fuck fuck-" Long hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock and all over your chest, which was covered by one of Gojo's old band tee's. Something told you after today though, he wouldn't mind his shirt covered in Geto's cum.

"Good boy, fuck. You're so pretty Suguru." You praised, keeping your eyes on his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his orgasm wracked through his body, his abs clenching and his body spasming with his high. The only warning you got from Gojo was an obnoxiously loud moan before he was cumming. He grit curses through his teeth as he used your hand to milk his cock.

His cum was thinner than Geto's, but there was more of it, and his cum shot further when most of Geto's just spilled over your fingers. Geto groaned in annoyance when a rope of Satoru's cum landed on his thigh as Suguru twitched in the aftershocks of his orgasm. "So tighttt~" Gojo moaned, smiling through his orgasm as he squeezed his hands tighter over yours, almost painfully so.

"Ugh... fucking gross, you got your cum all over me Satoru." Were the first words spilling from Geto's mouth when he fully came down. Gojo wrung out his cock using your fist as he pulled it out of the makeshift pussy, making sure he gave you all of his cum. "Oh shut up, just grab a tissue you big baby." Gojo spat back, leaving his softening cock hanging out as he laid down beside you, putting his arm behind you, against the pillow you were laying on.

"No, you get me a tissue." He spat back, laying on your other side as he leaned slightly over your body to curse at the man next to you, his arm siding under your shoulders as he squinted at Gojo. "Hah???? I'm not your maid, get it yourself." Gojo retorted, looking at the man incredulously. You gave up on looking between them or trying to stop them for that matter.

You just layed there comfortably, your smaller body being squished and smothered by two large men who fought for your touch while simultaneously screaming at each other over a cum rag. You heaved a dramatic sigh, which both of them failed to catch, of course. You thought a little intimate time would bring them closer together but clearly, you were wrong. 

———————————————————————

Bonus: At some point, Geto gave in and went to the bathroom to grab Gojo a tissue, leaving Gojo to take the opportunity to grab your body and pull you on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You shook your head, sighing as you knew this would only lead to another fight. When Geto stepped into the room once more, he was met by an annoyingly smug, Gojo face, making his vein pop out on his forehead. "Oh, you bitch." He growled, marching toward the bed.

You ended up falling asleep that night quite literally crushed between two large, muscly, hot, sweaty men. If you didn't die overnight from axphixiation, that would be a miracle. Honestly, though, you were just glad they had stopped fighting, so if that meant you had to die by suffocation? So be it.

[thewispsings]

dogsitter

pairing. charles leclerc x female!reader

summary. after finding a raccoon in his penthouse, charles ropes the owner of said raccoon into being leo’s dogsitter. then, he falls in love with her.

warning. fluff, kisses, slight jealous charles? reader can’t swim, reader owns a raccoon, no use of ‘yn’ let me know if i missed anything!

─────

“No! Leo, come back! Don’t touch it!” Charles yelled out in horror from his spot behind the kitchen counter. Leo paid him no mind, barking happily at what he thinks is a new friend. His new friend in question pays him no mind, sitting on his bottom and happily munching on the banana peel, Charles had no doubt he had taken from his trashcan. 

A million thoughts were running through Charles’s head, the main one being ‘Where the actual fuck did this raccoon come from. And why is it in my house?’ “Leo, no!” he tried once more, as he saw his precious dog get closer and closer to the trash-eating raccoon. Leo was way too friendly, Charles realized at the moment. 

Charles paced back and forth, thankfully the raccoon seemed friendly, not paying much attention to Leo, but he still needed to get it out…without touching it. He didnt know much about raccoons, but the one thing he did know, was that they carried diseases, lots of them. 

Hearing a knock on his door, Charles paused his pacing, running over to the door, while simultaneously trying to keep his eyes on the trash eater. Opening the door, Charles stepped back in confusion. This was not someone he recognized. This was a woman, a pretty woman, but a stranger nonetheless.

The second the door opened the woman perked up, giving him a small smile, “Hi!” she beamed, Charles paused, so much was happening at one time, and he had no idea what to do first. Talk to the pretty woman? Save Leo from the raccoon that seemed to spawn in his house? Who was he kidding, Leo loved that raccoon, what he meant was; Save himself from the raccoon that seemed to spawn in his house? 

“Any chance you have seen the most adorable raccoon around-” She paused, staring into his apartment, “Nibbles!” she cheered, inviting herself into his apartment. Charles paused for. moment, adorable raccoon? Nibbles?

He turned into his apartment, seeing the strange woman coddling the trash eater into her arms, babying him. He stormed over to Leo, who was clawing at the strange woman’s legs, scoping him into his arms and coddling him tightly into his chest.

Charles frowned, taking a small step back, you were coddling the trash eater into your arms like he was your child, “It's yours?” he managed out, judgment dripping from his words.

You looked up at him with a frown, “Not it. She.” you were very firm, continuing to pet the raccoon with a hand, “Yes, Nibbles is mine.” you didn't give another glance as you focused your attention back to the animal.  

‘’Like…a pet?” Charles placed Leo down onto the hardwood floors, now comfortable letting him roam around while you had the trash eater in your arms. You looked up at him, mouth open, before you slowly closed it, squinting your eyes at the man, while slowly, letting the raccoon out of your arms. 

“I know you from somewhere.” You stated simply, squinting your eyes harder, and stepping closer. Charles swallowed thickly, looking around the room awkwardly, refusing eye contact. "I don't think we've met…before.” he tried, but you didn't let up. 

Instead, you pulled out your phone, putting it up to his face, “What are you doing?!” Charles swiped at the camera, stepping back. You frowned, shoving the camera closer to his face, “I’m using the Google photo thing! Stay still!” reluctantly, Charles stood frozen, staring up at the camera with a glare. 

Pulling your phone back, you held it up to your face, walking over to the couch before plopping down with a sigh. “Hm…” you pursed your lips, “Charles Leclerc…” you read off the phone, hearing Charles sit beside you with a small sigh. “Oh!” you turned to him in excitement, “You��re the Ferrari driver!” 

Charles nodded happily, opening his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, “You were the reason I couldn’t sleep that day you won here.” You glared at him, and he shrunk back, “This whole city was up partying.” you huffed, placing your phone down, before reaching down and patting the trash eater’s head. 

Leo barked happily, jumping between you and the raccoon, Charles watched you as you hesitantly reached over to pet the dog, as if scared. You owned a raccoon, but were scared of dogs? “It was a big day,” Charles replied softly, his eyes on your arms, which were petting Leo, oh so delicately. Getting flashbacks of his home win, which took place just a couple weeks ago.

You looked up at him with a smile, “Yeah, I guess so.” you looked down at Leo, who was softly biting your fingers, Nibbles was at your feet, munching on her banana peel, without a care in the world. “It’s cute,” you comment, petting Leo’s head. “He.” Charles corrected. 

“So it’s..” you turned to him sharply, he rushed to correct himself, “She, sorry, she’s your pet?” 

You smiled down at the raccoon, who now seemed to be entertaining itself with Leo, who was sniffing around it. “Yeah,” you whispered, before getting up with a small groan. Charles followed your steps, picking up Leo when you picked up Nibbles. “Well it was nice to meet you, Charles,” you called over your shoulder, as you made your way to the door, Charles right behind you, “Sorry that Nibbles snuck over. We’ll get going now.” 

Charles panicked, watching you make your way to the door, “Do you have a job?” What was he doing? 

You paused, eyeing him confused, your parents were well off, you didn’t necessarily need a job, it would be nice to have one, but it wasn't one of your top priorities “No?” 

Charles looked around the room awkwardly before his eyes landed on Leo, bingo. “Would you like one?” 

You shifted with Nibbles in your arms, eyeing him suspiciously, “Depends.” You really hope he wouldn't ask you to do something…weird, he seemed like a nice guy, and he would probably be a good neighbor. 

“You could babysit Leo for me. Or it is dogsitting?.. He's more like my child than a pet. But I travel a lot so..” his rambling faded off into the background as you glanced between Nibbles and Leo. The two seemed to get along well, and by well you mean Nibbles didn't care for the dog, and the dog seemed to love Nibbles. 

Taking care of a dog for Thee Charles Leclerc would look great on a future resume.

“...You don't have to answer right away, you could sleep on it! Or take however much time you'd like.” Charles awkwardly swayed from side to side, cradling Leo in his arms. 

You snapped your head up at him, “I’ll do it.” You declared bluntly, before turning back to the door, “I’ll come over tomorrow, and we can talk more.” were your final words before you exited.  

Charles stood staring at the door, tilting his head slightly, “She's pretty.” He talked down to Leo, who barked in agreement. “Very pretty…” 

.  .  . 

“Leo, you have to promise you'll be a good boy,” you mumbled to the wagging dog as you placed the harness on its weiner-shaped body. “Nibbles has only been on a plane once, so you have to be the big boy in this situation.” 

It has been two weeks since you started your new job, and you loved it. You loved Leo, him quickly the number two pet in your heart, and you've taken a liking to Charles as well, become more like friends than anything else, and he's started bringing you souvenirs from each of the countries he's been to, which made you swoon without a doubt. 

A whole three days into your job, fans all over the world found out about your existence, and within two hours, they found out everything you needed to know about you. Including your old embarrassing Instagram videos where you thought you were a professional dancer. Charles thought those videos were funny, you did not. Of course, you got your hate, but it was buried under all the love you and Nibbles got. The world seemed to love Nibbles. So much that the account you had made for her years ago, tripled in followers within a few hours. 

You, Nibbles, and Leo now had an established routine. When Charles was away, Leo would sleep at your penthouse, sleeping by your side, while Nibbles slept in her own tiny bed, then you three would wake up at the crack of dawn and watch the free practice, qualifying, and the race. You’ve never been a big Formula One fan, but you watched for Charles. 

When Charles was at home, you two would spend most of the nights watching movies or playing online games together. With Leo and Nibbles right by your sides. 

The two pets had gotten considerably closer, Nibbles now returning Leo's great affection. Now finding the two apart was rare. 

“And Nibbles,” you turned to the raccoon, who was laying on her back, “You need to be brave. We won't be on the plane with other people, but still,” you shrugged, “I don't want you to get the nervous poops..” you mumbles as an afterthought. 

Your phone lights up with a call from none other than Charles. You grin as you pick up, “Yellow?” yes you were that person. 

Charles giggled like he always did when picking up the phone, “Hi,” he said your name softly, “I 

just wanted to check in, everything ready?” 

“Yup!” you answered, “Leo and Nibbles are packed and ready to go!” Go where exactly? Hungary, where you (along with Leo and Nibbles) will be watching Charles’s race. He had a bad last couple of races, so when he asked to and I quote “bring the kids to Hungary” You felt too bad to say no. 

“And what about you.” he hummed, “Are you packed and ready to go?”

“I’ve been packed since yesterday.” you always hated being anything less than prepared when traveling. Although you would be traveling by private jet (courtesy of Charles) it didnt ease your nerves. Traveling with Nibbles was hard enough, and this would be your first time traveling with Leo. You hoped he was a clam flyer like Charles claimed. 

Charles laughed, “The driver should be there in about..five minutes.” 

“And they know about Nibbles right?” you couldn’t count how many times you asked taxis if they allowed pets, only for them to refuse you service when you entered with Nibbles. 

“Yes, they know about Nibbles,” Charles reassured you through the phone, he had grown quite accustomed to the trash eater, he found that Nibbles acted quite like Max, which made her even more likable to the Ferrari driver. 

Speaking of, Charles looked up from the ground to see Max walking over to him with a grin, “I have to go now, okay?” he spoke into the phone, “Call me if anything happens.” after a few seconds he hung up, pocketing his phone with a huge smile. A smile that dropped as soon as he looked up to see Max. 

Max tilted his head at the slightly shorter man, teasingly smiling, “Why don’t you ask her out already?” Max leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes at Charles’s confusion. 

“Who?” Charles questioned.

The second Max said your name, Charles started spluttering, looking around the Ferrari lounge in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?” Charles felt his cheeks heat up, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of you. 

“I mean.” Max rolled his eyes, “You obviously like her-” he squinted his eyes at the face Charles pulled, “Don’t make that face.” Charles pulled another face, “Please Charles, you talk about her all the time, always mentioning how pretty she is-” 

“She is very pretty!” 

“And you very clearly like her!” 

The two childhood friends stared at each other. Max didnt understand why Charles couldn’t just accept his feelings. He talked about you like you hung the moon and the stars. He talked about you all day, every day. At first, everyone thought it was cute, but then it started to get annoying. Not because he talked about, but because he talked about, without realizing that he was in love with you. Everyone saw it, except him. 

“I personally think you should worry about your love life.” Charles shrugged, “When was the last time you went on a date–or had a girlfriend?” 

Max gasped, he really wanted to go there? “You’re right Charles.” he turned away, “Maybe I’ll ask her out,” he paused dramatically, before starting to walk away. 

But he didnt get far, because before he knew it, Charles was in front of him stopping him from moving, all traces of amusement gone. “Don’t.” he glared. 

Max faltered, sighing, “Admit you like her.” 

Charles frowned, this was not how he wanted to come to terms with his feelings, “I might, possibly? like her.” he pursed his lips, Max took a good look at him before patting him on the shoulder, sympathy written across his face. “Tell her, take her on a date. Before someone else does..” and with that he walked off. 

Charles wiped his hands across his face, sitting down on the red velvet chair with a sigh, Max’s words echoing through his head. Before someone else does. The thought alone of you going on a date with another person made him sick to his stomach. He groaned, clutching his head, images of you kissing someone else involuntary flashed through his hand. 

This was not how it was supposed to go. You and Charles were supposed to be friends, boss, and employee who just happened to get along very well. Thats it. 

But then you, and your stupid fucking smile. Your stupid fucking laugh. Your stupid fucking face. And your stupid fucking raccoon that Charles was now definitely attached to. He had to ask you out. He wanted to ask you out. But he didnt want to ruin what you already had. You quickly become one of his closest friends. He told you things he wouldn’t even tell his brothers. And he didnt want that to end. 

But it didnt seem like he had a choice anymore. He could either lose you because he was a coward who never confessed his feelings, so you fell in love with someone else, or he could lose you because he did confess his liking towards you, and you didn’t reciprocate that liking. 

He just hoped if you didnt like him and decided to quit out of awkwardness, you would still let him see Nibbles. 

.  .  . 

Charles had gotten fourth, nowhere close as he wanted to be, but it was an improvement.  He was full of nerves as he walked up into Ferrair’s hospitality. He couldn’t see you that morning before he left as it was early in the morning and he didnt want to wake you up. 

Waling into the large room, Charles instantly spotted you, sitting on the ground, laughing at Leo who was rolling around in a knitting blanket, one Charles didn’t recognize. 

Looking up, you made eye contact with Charles, with a smile you ran over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug, “That race was so…” you struggled, burying your head into his shoulder. 

He pulled back with a smile, taking a good look at your pretty face, “Interesting?” he helped, tilting his head. 

You nodded vigorously, “Let’s go with that! But you did so good!” 

Charles smiled bashfully walking over to Nibbles, who was lying on her back without a care in the world. He pulled up the unfamiliar blanket laughing loudly at the design. It seemed to be handmade, knitted. It was beautiful, designed to have Leo and Nibbles hugging on the front. 

“It’s so cool, right?” You bounced over to him, “A fan gave it to me this morning, i offered her some money because that looks like it took so much time to make, but she kept saying no-” 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” 

Silence. 

Charles looked up with his bright red cheeks, you stood frozen, mouth open, staring at him with soulless eyes. Shit, you were going to say no. 

Oh god, you were going to say no. You’re going to quit your job and Charles is never going to see you or Nibbles ever again. Oh my god, he’s never going to see Nibbles again. 

“Can I bring Nibbles with me?” 

That–That was not what Charles was expecting. He blinked, 

“Only if I can take Leo.”

.  .  .

“I’m scared Leo.” Charles stared down at Leo, who didnt give him so much as a glance before we walked over to the edge of the boat. “You’re no help,” Charles called after him, shaking his head. 

The boat looked beautiful if Charles did say so himself, it had flower petals scattered around, fairy lights shining, and in the middle was a small fort of blankets and pillows. 

Hearing footsteps coming towards him, Charles sent a small prayer to whoever was listening, before turning and waiting for you to walk up. 

Hopping on the boat, you slowly walked over to the open area, holding Nibbles tightly. You spotted Charles frozen in the middle, you took in everything around, it was beautiful. 

At the sight of Leo, Nibbles started squirming in her arms, wanting to be put down. You granted her, her request, slowly placing her down onto the ground. She instantly crawled over to Leo.

You and Charles stared at each other silently, slowly taking each other in. “You..” Charles started, “You look beautiful.” he took your hand, leading you over to the fort of blankets. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking a seat on the pillows. It was beautiful out, the sun was on the verge of setting, and it was a surprisingly quiet day out in the city, so instead of the bustling you would usually hear, it was the soft rustling of the waves.

“We’re not going out in the water are we?” you turned to him with wide eyes, “Because I don’t exactly know how to swim.” 

Charles snapped his head towards you with a mixture of disbelief and offense, “You… can’t swim?”

“Not exactly.” 

“You’re twenty-four,” Charles stated, his eyes squinted. 

“Your point?” you bite into a strawberry he so gracefully handed to you. 

“You’re twenty-four and can’t swim,” he stated once more, handing a strawberry to Nibbles, who had wobbled her way over to you two after she saw you eating food. 

“My dad’s like ancient and he can’t swim.” you tried to defend yourself. 

“So it runs in the family?” Charles giggled, rubbing Nibble’s stomach, as she lay on her back. 

You watched them with a smile, it was clear Charles had gotten accustomed to Nibbles, the same way you had with Leo, who had crawled into your lap with a small sigh. 

“On the next date, I’ll teach you to swim,” he told you, now cradling Nibbles in his arms. 

“Next date?” you teased, raising a brow. He instantly became flustered, stuttering over his words. “I mean–if you want? I want. I really want to, but if you don’t want to then that’s okay too! You don’t have-” 

“I want to.” you laughed, reassuring him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. He froze, his eyes bulging at the sight of your hand on his knee. God, what were you doing to him? A simple hand was on the knee and he was turning bright red. 

Awkwardly you slowly started to remove your hand, mistaking his silence for dislike. Quickly, his hand darted out, softly grabbing yours before placing it back on his knee. 

Comfortable silence took over, both cheekily and secretly smiling to yourselves. 

.  .  .

“Thank you for the date tonight.” Charles stood in front of you, while you had your back to your apartment door. It was now late at night, and after hours of talking, you both were ready for some much-needed rest. You two had just dropped off Leo in Charles’s apartment, and you had just let Nibbles into yours. 

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” you giggled, leaning against the wall with a tired smile. 

Charles shrugged, clearly staring down at your lips, “Well I really enjoyed it, so.” 

You two stood silently, tension so thick, you could cut through it with a knife. You wanted Charles to kiss you, god, that was what you’ve been wanting all night. But you knew he wasn’t going to until you told him. 

Still, you gave him a chance to make the first move, so you both stood there in silence for three minutes, blatantly staring at each other in silence. One more minute and you were sure you were going to fall asleep. So you pushed your pride aside, “You can kiss me-” 

And in less than a second, his lips were on yours. His lips were warm and soft, just like you imagined. You melted into the kiss, it was certainly the best you’ve ever had. 

He pulled away too quickly for your liking, “Can I sleep over?” he mumbled with a smile, you giggled nodding your head, before you opened your door, gesturing inside. 

He eagerly started to make his way inside, only to pause in the doorway, looking up at you in horror, “I have to go get Leo!” he yelled as he ran into the hallway, “You and Nibbles wait for me!” he yelled back as he got further in further away.

You laughed loudly as you watched him go.

Yeah, you totally picked the right guy. 

notes: can you guys tell i have no idea what happens on a date… anyways! this is a whole 3.5k and that’s the most i’ve ever written so hooray!! this is been in my drafts for soooo long and i’m so happy i finally finished it

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[luveline]

can I request something where Spencer is already with and married to y/n and the rest of the team has never known about her and one day they find out he’s married when she meets the team for the first time coming to bring him lunch maybe and the team is just taken aback after all the teasing they used to do to him because y/n is just so beautiful and flirty and they weren’t expecting any of it? And Spencer is just like “yeah I did that 👀😌💅🏼”

thank you for requesting !! hope this is okay, fem!reader

“I have something I need to tell you.” 

Derek looks up from his desk with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t like the sounds of that.” 

“I know you’re going to blow it out of proportion,” Spencer says, adjusting the strap of his watch where it lays over his sweater sleeve. “So I think I should tell you about it before she gets here with my lunch.” 

Derek leans back in his chair and tosses the clipboard he’s ticking through into a pile of outgoings. “I’ll bite. ‘She’?”

Spencer holds his hands clasped in front of himself, looking cagey. “Listen, I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell the whole team, but it happened so quickly, and then I got it in my head that everyone would be mad at me or make fun of me and I didn’t want to deal with it so I didn’t tell you, and now it’s been a year and I kind of want to brag.” He ducks his head, scratches his neck, and refuses to meet Derek’s eye. “I wanted to tell you.” 

“Reid, man, what are you talking about?” Derek feels himself soften. “I’m not mad at you, pretty boy. Just tell me what’s going on.” 

“She’s over there,” Spencer says, pointing.

Derek follows his friend’s hand to you. You’re a lovely thing to look at because you’re smiling like you’ve never been happier, and you’re dressed in a simple, elegant sort of style that gives you a timeless feel, like you could’ve been in a romantic movie in the 50’s or just got back from walking the shiny streets of Paris. You aren’t his type at first glance, but you could be, the way you’re looking at him. 

“Derek Morgan,” you say as you approach, your little black purse slipping down your shoulder, “I can’t believe it’s you.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart, do I know you?” Derek asks. 

You give Spencer a loving, sorry look. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Sorry! I tried, but you know. I was nervous and I kind of chickened out when you got here.” 

You shift the white plastic bag you’re holding in two hands to the crook of one arm and beckon him into your side. “It’s fine,” you say, leaning upward to kiss his pale cheek, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I like introducing myself, you know that already.” You give him a last friendly pat before removing yourself, your hand just close enough to brush against his as you offer your name. “I’m Spencer’s wife,” you add. 

Derek laughs, the low first chuckle of disbelief. Spencer’s watching him carefully, and he thinks, oh, maybe she’s not kidding. “His wife.” 

“Yes,” you say, taking Spencer’s shoulder into your hand. You don’t seem to notice that he’s a good few inches taller than you. “And I’m so happy to meet you, you know? I’ve heard so much about you, about everyone! I realise we waited too long. S’gonna make sending you the registry pretty awkward.”

Spencer laughs. You look at him like he’s put the sun in the sky. 

“Sorry, I don’t think I understand.” 

You turn your hand to show Derek the gold wedding band on your marriage finger. “For a year, almost.” 

There’s just no way. 

Derek watches in quiet shock as Emily and Hotch descend the steps into the bullpen. “Hi,” Emily says, plainly confused. 

“Hi,” you say, deferring to Spencer with an encouraging glance.

Spencer puts his arm behind your shoulder, and Derek realises loverboy isn’t lying after all. The way he touches you is too familiar, speaking to a longstanding sort of love. His thumb immediately rubs gentle semi-circles into the fabric of your cardigan, circles you likely can’t even feel. “This is Y/N, she’s… my wife. We got married.” 

“And didn’t invite us,” Derek says. 

“You what?” Emily asks, head snapping to the side. 

Hotch is smiling at you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“You knew?” Emily asks. 

“It altered his health insurance,” Hotch says nonchalantly, stepping forward to shake your hand. 

“I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Hotchner.” Your eyes are sparkling. Derek can understand why Spencer’s married you from that look alone; you look overjoyed to be here, and to be speaking to them. “And you too, Emily. I've heard amazing things about all of you.” 

“Wait a minute, when did this happen? Wha–” Emily shakes her head. “I feel like I’m on reality television.” 

You turn to Spencer again, your eyes following up his cheek, a caress of a gaze as you begin to tell the story, “Well, we met by accident by at Christmas market on Cassidy square trying to buy stamps for cards, so that was sort of our first date a year and two months ago, but we didn’t get married until February, so a year.” 

“You got married after two months?” Emily asks, saving Derek the breath but not the sentiment. 

You don’t so much as wince, nor does Spencer. “It might’ve been unfair to her for me to rush things, but it didn’t feel like rushing at the time,” Spencer says surely. 

Derek knows that Hotch would’ve mentioned you months ago if you were nefarious. You certainly don’t seem nefarious, melting under Spencer’s touching, your almost frantic excitement to be meeting them quelled to a softer happiness. 

“Do you have any photos?” Emily asks.

It’s Spencer who moves for his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He flicks it open and pulls a photo from the clear window, unfolding it to reveal a shiny six by four of the two of you outside of a courthouse. Your dress is white and silk, his tuxedo made to fit. You both look amazing, but better, you look so, so happy. 

“This is the weirdest prank ever,” Emily says. 

You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” 

Spencer shuffles through a hundred shades of pink. Derek struggles to wrap his head around it, but he can’t wait to tell Penelope. 

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Independence - (Yandere KaijuNo8 Hoshina x Reader)

nsfw, dubcon, yandere, afab, explicit sex, possessiveness, overstimulation

Where Hoshina has enough of your “independence” antics. 

———————////////———————-//////—————

The quick, rough clacks of heels stomping the ground permeate the otherwise quiet night. You can hear the soft thuds of dance music beating from a distance from the club you were just brought out of. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” You yelp, “That hurts! Let go, will you?”

The man pulling on your hand doesn’t let go, though his grip loosens. 

You groan, frustrated at the chain of the events that just occurred. You were at the club with your girls, mingling it up, when your childhood friend barged in and dragged you out, JUST as you were getting friendly with a man who was exactly your type. 

The cockblocking pisses you off. “Seriously, Soshiro, what’s gotten into you?”

He lets go of your hand, whipping around to face you. 

“What’s gotten inta me? What’s gotten inta you? I’m gone on a mission for a month and then come back to see you hangin’ out with girls you barely know, gettin’ friendly with nasty dudes, at a trashy ass club in the most dangerous part o’ the city!”

“I’m a grown woman, Soshiro. I can do what I want. And I was perfectly safe in there.” 

He ignores your words, pulling at your hand again. “Come on, we’re goin’ home.” You can tell he means business by the tone of his voice. There’s no point in arguing when he gets like this. Sighing, you follow him quietly into the car he had ready. 

Hoshina lets a random radio station play while he drives. The ride home to your apartment is otherwise silent. 

Watching the lights of the city get farther and farther away, you grind your teeth in annoyance. He’s always been like this since you were little. Overly protective and clingy, ESPECIALLY when it came to men trying to get to know you. Growing up, he was always threatening your crushes, getting between you and boys offering their love confessions,  even keeping you away from his sport competitions during highschool. 

“I don’t like the way my teammates look at ya,” He’d say, “It gets in the way of our game.”

Sure, you may have been frail as a kid and that warranted some protecting, but the both of you are now grown, and he still hasn’t let up on his “big brother” antics. It was ruining your love life, and tonight you were going to chew him out once and for all. 

You huff in annoyance, not noticing the way Soshiro practically glares at the cleavage your tight dress reveals through the corner of his eye. 

You two eventually make it home, and you fumble for your keys to open the door. You see Hoshina looking over his shoulder, scanning for any potential threats, and you roll your eyes. Once you unlock the door, you usher you in, and he shuts and locks the door behind him with a ‘click’. 

You throw your purse on the dining table, waltzing over to the fridge to grab a water bottle in hopes you can cool down. Because right now, you want nothing more than to shove Hoshina down a set of stairs.

After taking a sip, you sigh and turn to Hoshina, who has been standing in the living room with his arms crossed, displeased. 

“Soshiro, we need to talk. I’m not a defenseless kid anymore, you can’t keep controlling what I can do or who I can see.” 

“Oh?” He raises a brow, a small pout still on his face. 

“‘Oh’, yes. I’m a grown woman. And I’m tired of you being a cockblock every time I meet a man who seems even remotely interested in me. We’re still in our twenties! I wanna go meet people and have fun before it’s too late. And to be frank? You going on that Defense Force mission for a month has been great for my social life. I’ve been able to hang out with other friends, go on like 2 dates, and just feel free for once.” 

Your expression softens when you see he’s obviously hurt by your words, “I don’t mean to be hurtful, ugh! I just…I want you to understand, I need to live my life.”

Your friend is silent for a minute, and before you can start to get nervous, he says quietly, “I understand.”

“You do?” You perk up, relieved to have finally had this talk with him. 

“Oh yeah, I understand alright.” You don’t like the way he says that. 

He makes way to where you stand, in slow, purposeful steps.

“While I been risking my life to protect this country, you been hoein’ around, is that it?” Hoshina antagonizes, taking a few steps closer as you back pedal. He stops once you’re chest to chest, your back hitting the kitchen walls with a soft thump.

“Really? That’s what you got outta that? You idiot, that’s not it at all, I—“

“Enough with the excuses.” Hand smacking the wall beside your head, he leans down, whispering in your ear. “I think it’s high time you realize who ya belong to.”

He grabs your chin, tilting your face upwards for a searing kiss, your lips colliding. The young man’s warm tongue snakes into your mouth to explore its walls, and you’re so taken aback that you just let him, the sensation leaving your legs feeling a little unsteady.

He takes advantage of your surprise, slinging you over his shoulder with ease, and speed walks to your room. 

Once the two of you reach the door, he swings it open and throws you on the mattress with a “thud”.

“Soshiro, what the fuck!”

“You wanna get with a guy so bad? Fine. But it’s won’t be anyone else ‘sides me.”

He crawls on top of you, planting both hands beside your head as he towers over your form. You gaze up at him, astonished at his words.

“Wait, wait wait — This is all so sudden, I—you—what?”

He growls in frustration, nipping at your neck. The deep rumble of his voice and the sensation of him marking you surprisingly stirs something up in your core. 

“Did ya really never notice how bad I wanted ya since we were teenagers? All this time I been keepin’ you away from anyone else ‘cause I thought you were mine, an’ I wanted ya to stay mine. But here we are, with you thinkin’ just ‘cause you’re grown up that ya can up an’ leave me behind.” You don’t notice until it’s halfway down, but Hoshina is unzipping the side of your strapless dress. 

“Well I got a news flash for ya, sweetheart— 

it ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen like that.” Once he finishes tinkering with the zipper, he pulls your dress off your body, revealing nothing but silicone nipple covers and lace panties too thin to be practical. 

“Who the hell were ya gonna show these off to, huh?” He removes the tiny nipple covers, pushing them off to the side of the bed. 

“N-no one…”

“Liar,” Your childhood friend is not gentle with your panties. He yanks them off you with a harsh snap of its strings. “No one can see you like this but me.”

He eyes your naked body hungrily, but you can tell he’s not happy. Only now do you understand that it’s not because he’s been worried for you—he’s mad because it’s not him you’re dressing scantily for. 

“Fuck…you’re gorgeous. I’m gonna show ya who this body was made for.”

The soldier places a cold hand on your bare pussy, slowly stroking your slit, pulling the folds open and closed in a way that has you choking back a moan. 

In no time, your opening grows moist. Hoshina smiles coyly when notices his fingers are coated with your juices. “Already so wet for me, ain’tcha? 

The pace of his strokes eventually picks up, and when he opts instead to rub your clit in a circular motion, you can no longer hold back your voice. 

You want to deny it, but it feels good. Really good. The feeling of his touch clouds your mind, and logic is thrown out the window. As unwise as it may be, and as weird as it is to be doing this with your life-long friend, your body convinces you it’ll be fine to let whatever happen, happen. 

He smirks at your reaction, pleased to see you release the tension in your body, relaxing under his touch. “That’s it, sweet. Lemme hear more of those pretty moans.”

And let him you do. He rubs your clit at an unyielding pace, and when you start squirming involuntarily, one of his sinewy 

arms clamps down on your thigh, holding it in place. 

“Ah, ah, ah. No closing your legs,” He chides.

“F-fuck, but I’m-ah-gonna come!”

You can feel yourself reach the tipping point, mind going blank. You look your friend in the eyes, and the way that he stares at you so reverently, intensely, is what makes you reach that edge. 

“Come for me then, baby.” That was the only encouragement you need, because that has  you climaxing with rushing vigor, cunt spasming and pulsing in waves. Tears of pleasure begin to emerge at the corners of your eyes, and you breathe a sigh of contentment. 

Happy with himself, the young man barrels his mouth into yours, refusing to separate until the both of you are gasping for air. You use a hand to tug at his hair hoping it’ll make him pull back, but he doesn’t relent, instead grunting a moan. Only when you start pushing on his chest does he separate from you. 

“Sorry,” He barely sounds sorry, you think, “Ya just taste so damn good.”

With a trail of saliva dripping from his mouth and yours, he moves down to latch onto one of your breasts. 

A warm appendage flicks across your nipple, shooting pleasure down into your core. You didn’t know your tits could ever feel this good. When he proceeds to bite and suckle, you’re washed with a sensation that has you swearing you feel yourself melting away. 

Hoshina laps at your other hardened areola, teasing the former with the pinch of his fingers. 

But then a thought crosses his mind. “Ya haven’t done this with anyone else before, right?” He mumbles, face nestled between your breasts. 

You don’t answer, and he stops what he’s doing, much to your body’s chagrin.

He removes himself from your chest. His hand squeezes your other breast a little tightly, and when he looms over you, he’s dripping with malice. “Right?” 

“Ugh,” You’re embarrassed to admit it, refusing to look him in the eye, “Right. I-I’ve never done anything with anyone before.” 

And you aren’t lying. Hoshina’s always done a damn good job at keeping all potential lovers at bay. You’ve never even kissed another man before. 

That settles his nerves. “Good girl.” He kisses your collarbone. 

“If you did, I woulda made you confess which fella it was with and kill him.” He says that so nonchalantly, you worry it’s true. “You don’t belong to anyone but me, got it, sweet thing? You’re mine.”

The possessiveness should scare you, but it doesn’t. In fact, his claims spur on your arousal. When one of his hands warningly wraps around your throat, a shiver runs down your spine. “Say it,” He demands with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You’re mine.” 

“I-I’m yours, Shiro.” As he hears you call him by that stupidly intimate childhood nickname, he feels his cock ache. 

“That’s a good gal.” He releases his grip on you, moving to take off his clothes. “I missed you so much during my mission, ya know that? Stayed up late thinkin’ of ya.” 

He unzips and removes his jacket. 

“Yeah?” You inquire, not sure where he’s going with this conversation. 

“Yeah. Stayed up thinkin’ ‘bout how good you’d feel under me. Thought about my cock deep inside ya, right. Here.” He places a hand below your belly button, pressing deep. “Remembered how sexy you looked in that tiny ass swimsuit last summer, and wished I was back at the beach with you again, this time fucking you stupid. Thought about how good you’d sound moaning my name while your tight cunt milks me dry, and that everyone around would know who it is you belong to.”

Fuck, since when was your friend so good with dirty talk? You’ve never heard him so vulgar in your life. The thought of being wanted so badly makes your heart ache, and you feel yourself turning red. 

“Daww,” Hoshina coos, “Is someone blushing?” He licks his lips, eyeing you like a tiger would eye a plump rabbit, and you gulp. “Fuck, that’s cute. You’re adorable.”

With his clothes fully removed and tossed to the side, you take in the sight of his body. He’s not a giant of a man, although toned muscles decorate his limbs in a way that make him look bigger than you’d expect. 

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s quite the looker. What you’re most concerned with though is how large his member is. It’s hard, veiny and obviously protruding. You gulp nervously, suddenly self conscious of your lack of love-making experience.

Before you can overthink things, the soldier takes the lead. He gives his shaft a stroke and moves your hand to wrap around his dick, getting you to stroke him in a slow, easy motion. 

You see his body tremble under your touch, and he lets out a deep sigh, like he’s relieved after holding back for so long. 

“Fuuuuuck, yer hands feel so soft. Just like I always imagined.”

You stroke his thick member a few more times, admiring how sensitive his body was under your touch. 

“Good girl. Just like that baby, yeah. Fuck, you make it hard to hold back.”

The praises do something to you, and you find yourself eager to hear more from him. 

But just as quick as Soshiro was to praise you, he was quick to flip you onto all fours, and with a yelp your eyes stare at nothing but the bedpost. 

You don’t even have time to realize what’s going on when you feel Hoshina’s thick head invade your wet hole, stuffing you full as you feel the pressure inside your body build. 

“Oh gawwwwwd,” You moan, never having felt such a sensation before. 

It’s so overwhelming, taking you by surprise—you immediately crawl forward to move away, only to be aggressively held by the hips and yanked back into your starting position.

“Don’t you dare fucking run away,” The soldier warns dangerously, “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think about anythin’ else but my cock.”

And fuck you he does. His pace is merciless, thick member pounding in and out of your pussy until your legs are a quivering mess. Your senses are heightened, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth as you feel every veiny inch of his cock stuff you completely. It’s too fucking much.

“Too much, Shiro,” You beg with a sob, “I need a minute.”

“You’ll take all that I give ya, when I give it to ya.” And you yelp as he plants a slap on your asscheek.

“Fuck. The way that ass bounces from my dick is so hot.”

A finger slips into your asshole, gently sliding in and out. If it was overstimulating before, now it’s too much all at once. 

“Please,” You plead in between moans. “It’s so much, Shiro. Gawd, I- I can’t!”

“Oh yes you can,” He admonishes, “And you will.” 

Another hard slap lands on your ass. “Apologize for trying to abandon me.”

Your mind and body now fully under the influence of lust, you do whatever he tells you. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for abandoning you!”

“You like it in both holes, don’tcha? Slut.”

“Yes yes yes, I like it in both holes! It feels so good being stuffed in both holes!”

“And who do you belong to?”

“You, Shiro! Just you!”

His chuckling is low and deep, sending waves of pleasure down your spine. 

“Good girl. My good fucking girl.”

He lurches forward, and your arms and legs give out from underneath you. Laying flat on your stomach, Soshiro’s weight keeps you from moving even an inch. In this position, with him on top of you as he grips your breasts, your friend’s cock buries in you even deeper than before. He humps into you without remorse, and once he moves a hand to your mouth, you instinctively suckle on his fingers.

He moans at the sensation, groaning under your touch. The perversion of the whole scenario drives him wild.

“Fuck, did I tell you yer really tight?” He says through gritted teeth. “Can’t keep this up much longer.”

Now it’s your turn to tell him what to do. 

“Cum for me, Shiro. I need you to cum!”

He laughs at your audacity, gripping you tighter. 

“Oh yeah?” He grunts with a smirk, hot breath against your ear. “And where does my girly want me to cum, huh?”

It’s risky, but fuck it. You’re so horny you can barely think straight. “I-inside me!”

Your request gets him going, making him thrust even faster, harder than you thought was possible. 

“Fuck, girly, gonna cum!”

The feeling of his cum filling you up also is your tipping point, and you cry out as your final orgasm is ripped out of you. 

“Shiiiiiiit,” Soshiro whimpers, slowing his piston-ing down until your pussy finally milks every last drop of semen from him.

He slowly pulls out, and you feel suddenly empty once his dick is no longer inside you. 

With a quick flip, he’s on his back, arms spread out, staring at the ceiling with much thought. 

You roll over to look at him.

“So,” You break the silence, “Does that, uh, I should consider you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you a look.

“Depends. You wanna be kidnapped and locked inside a basement against yer will?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then yes, we’re datin’ now.” 

“Oh! Uh. Okay.”

—-////——//////————

That concludes my fanfic, folks! Sorry it took so long to make. I was struggling a lot with writer’s block and some life events that were outside of my control, but I’m here! And alive!

Honestly, what made me finish this story was seeing that the yandere tag on Tumblr was lackin’ in writing as of late, heheh. Anyways thanks for stopping by! Until next time!

[lunarmoves]

"can i have a kiss?"

you abruptly choke on the sip of water you'd been taking, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you cough roughly and loudly into your palm. it's enough to make your throat ache, and you barely register a large hand patting you on your back as you do your best to clear your windpipe.

"pardon?" you eventually force out, voice scratchy as you look up at sun through watering eyes. "what did you say?"

sun's head tilts to the side slightly. it's difficult to parse out what he's thinking with those blank eyes of his. "can i have a kiss?" he repeats for you in the same tone and inflection—light and casual like he's simply asking about the weather.

you blink owlishly at him, then glance around the empty daycare. maybe as an excuse to not look at him. everything was cleaned swiftly today, leaving you with some free time before you had to clock out. you just hadn't expected it to be spent like this, however. you clear your throat and look back at sun. his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, barely noticeable had he not been standing stock still.

"...what's brought this on?" you ask after a short moment of silence. you're stalling, you know, but you're genuinely curious.

his head tilts the other way, a quiet click coming from his face plate. and then—like he hadn't just been standing before you, still as a statue—he jolts back into an amiable sway.

"oh, you know!" he gushes out, clasping his hands together and making the bells attached to his ribbons jingle with the motion. "we just see the way parents kiss their children at the door! and, well, those kids love to play house a lot too, you see. it's difficult not to notice it when it happens all the time! we are simply..." he trails off, as though searching for the right word. "...intrigued."

"right..." you're not quite buying what he's trying to say. hell, your ears are likely still tinged red from the initial embarrassment of his question. "you give kisses to the kids all the time, though," you point out. they aren't kisses so much as they are little taps of his static smile to their boo-boos or foreheads when they ask. you only know they're intended as kisses because sun lets out an exaggerated mwah every time.

sun only looks at you, something tense along the line of his thin shoulders. you wait, in the silence of the too large daycare, as he seems to ruminate upon something. and when he speaks, it makes something curl tightly in the deepest pit of your stomach.

"that's different," he replies quietly. a pin drops in the far distance.

your tongue suddenly feels too thick for your mouth and you swallow before you reply. "how so?" you find yourself asking. you... you don't quite understand. or maybe you don't want to. maybe you're looking for an answer you're not quite prepared to hear yet. maybe you are ready and you just don't realize it yet.

"they're not you." it's said simply—like saying the sky is blue or grass is green. your lips purse together. you refuse to admit how that makes you feel—how it makes something hot flood throughout your body.

"...there are cameras," you say weakly, trying to fight down the flush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks. was this really happening? was he really asking you this? it's just a kiss, you scold yourself. you're overreacting. he's a robot—it's not like it means anything to him. right? "i'm on shift. i could get fired." it doesn't matter if it's a friendly little peck—anything seen like that with a robot on cameras after the daycare has closed will be detrimental to your career.

"don't you worry your silly little head about that!" sun waves a hand in dismissal, his eyes upturned slightly into white crescents. there's a curve to his smile that you're only minutely wary of. "we've taken care of it!" ...whatever that means. you eye one of the cameras positioned near the ceiling of the daycare, the small red light on it frozen. you... aren't going to question that. you internally sigh.

sun's always curious—always pushing boundaries. always seeing how far he can go with you before you take a step back.

it seems like you'd taken too long to respond. sun closes the small distance between the two of you with a single, long stride, standing before you in a way that makes you crane your head up. your personal space is wiped out in an instant. he bends down until his face is mere inches above yours. and then he waits.

"don't be shy!" he tells you brightly, fingers flexing by his sides. one of his rays twitches atomically. "put 'er right here!" his face plate spins slightly as an indicator.

he's really not leaving you much room for choice here. you huff at his persistence, giving him a small roll of your eyes. and with a deep breath to help ground yourself—keep your head clear and look at this all from an objective standpoint (robot, he's a robot, he's curious, it doesn't mean anything)—you eventually raise yourself up on your tippy toes.

a kiss—as small and feathery as a wisp of wind on a cool, fall day—is pressed delicately to the plating of his forehead. the metal is cool under your touch, a contrast against the warmth of your skin. you don't let yourself linger, dropping back down onto your heels as you clear your throat and force yourself to look at him. he's still watching you—with that too large smile and too squinted eyes.

"there you go," you force out as casually as you can. there's something swarming in your gut and you're not sure if it's a good thing or not. "happy?"

sun's rays spin around once, but he doesn't move away. his smile stretches wider—thinner like a blade. and when he speaks, there's a faint depth to his voice that makes you think of the way moon speaks.

"you missed." he bends down closer to you, the shadows of his lithe form casting themselves across your face. he lifts a hand to tap once against the metal of his smile and the sound seems to echo through the daycare. you stare up at him with wide eyes, a cool prickle making its way down your spine. sun's face plate makes another sharp click. "do it again."

you mouth opens, then closes, until you finally muster up the will to let out a little laugh—albeit a slightly shaky one.

"c'mon, dude, i gave you a kiss." you let out another chuckle and find yourself leaning back just a tad. "i should head out now anyways, it's getting lat—"

before you can even finish your sentence, sun's hands dart out to grip you tightly on your upper arms. trapping you within his hold as he draws you closer. you're forced to look up at him, all tense lines and twitching metallic parts.

"you misunderstand, friend." sun grins wider, the gleam of his teeth sharp in the daycare's lighting. you take the smallest step back. "i wasn't asking."

moon

[cutiekaijumuseum]

A little trivia for those that just got introduced to Ultraman thanks to Ultraman Rising

You know that part where baby kaiju Emi is shown a kids cartoon with an earworm of a song?

That cartoon is real!! It's called Kaiju Step Wandabada and it stars cute kid versions of different monsters from different Ultraman series (mostly the original from 1966 wich Rising is also based on). The opening shown in the movie is in stop-motion while the cartoon itself is in 2D.

The Ultraman heroes don't appear in person, but bizarrely enough they seem to exist as fictional superheroes in-universe, with the kaiju kids having toys and dolls of them. It's no surprise Emi liked it so much! She would be right at home in this show!

The episodes are 5 minutes long, there are two seasons of 26 episodes each for a total of 52. The official Tsurubaya channel has the first episodes of both seasons uploaded...

...but the rest were sadly only up for a limited time cuz gotta sell the dvds. What is officially available online right now is a series of educational shorts.

Some years ago Marvel Comics got the rights to make Ultraman comics and made a mini-series called "The Rise of Ultraman" (no relation), and these Kaiju Step designs got to appear as part of in-universe instructional videos about dealing with monsters and aliens:

So let's have a quick rundow on the little monsters and where each comes from:

Pigmon or Pig-chan is the main protagonist and new kid in town (forest). This coral-looking guy is one of the most iconic and recurring ultra monsters and the go-to kid-friendly one, as he stood out among the original set of kaiju for being friendly and heroic (as well as human-sized). He has the bad habit of dying in many of his apperences but fortunately that's not the case here.

Kanegon or Kane-chan is the second member of the protagonist trio, and the most energic and simple-minded. A coin purse monster that eats money, and usually a human kid under a curse. He actually pre-dates Ultraman, appearing in the black-and-white anthology series Ultra Q wich had monsters but not superheroes. Fortunately this one doesn't need to eat money and was born a kaiju.

Alien Dada or Dada-chan is the reliable but temperamental inventor of the trio, he dreams of building a rocket ship. One of the most iconic villains from the original 1966 Ultraman (and that's saying a lot), it's a weird alien with weird powers looking for human subjects for his weird experiments, like testing his shrinking ray. He really earns the name of a weird art movement.

Gomora or Gomo-chan is probably the most iconic ultra kaiju of all. Remember how in Ultraman Rising there is this whole sequence where the dad omniously talks about fighting him? There is a good reason for that. Gomora had the only two-parter in the original 1966 series, and was able to actually defeat Ultraman in their first figh. He's essentially Godzilla if he lived underground rather than underwater (He's even been a good guy and had a robot counterpart). Here, however, Gomora is a chill guy who's passionate about agriculture. (btw, you can also spot Gomora in Rising on a screen around an hour and eight minutes into the movie).

Red King or just Red is another iconic ultra dino, that looks like corn. In the show he's brute but well-meaning, and has a friendly sport rivalry with Kemur-chan. But in the Ultraman series he's a sadistic and murderous bully who beats up weaker monsters but gets his butt kicked rather easily by Ultraman (although more recent incarnations have have been more positive, both in his fighting ability and sometimes even becoming a loving father). (and yes, you are right, he's not red).

Jamira or Jami-chan is a passionate archeologist and fossil collector in the show, whereas in the original Ultraman he was a human astronaut that got infected by a virus. He hasn't appeared much beyond his debut... but doesn't need to, as his episode was very memorable in how sad and tragic it was. I can't imagine the target audience's whiplash seeing this cute creature one moment collecting fossils and the next having a horrible sad death. I guess one could say the same for most of the characters, but this one takes the cake.

Miclas or Mic-chan is the youngest character, a baby, and loves bugs. He was one of the "capsule monsters" from the second ultra series, Ultra Seven. Sometimes the titular ultra wouldn't be able to fight himself so he would summon up to three very loyal monsters from little capsules to do the fighting instead (or at least buy some time, they weren't very strong). One was a triceratops, another was a robot bird, but the most iconic had to be Miclas because really, what even is he? Some kind of bull toad hybrid? (By the way, fun fact, the capsule monsters were one of the inspirations for Pokemon).

King Joe (yes, that's his name) or Joe-chan is a robot controlled by alien invaders and is to Ultra Seven what Gomora is to the original Ultraman: he's the subject of a two-parter and was able to beat the hero to a pulp at first, made harder to fight by his ability to divide into three flying parts. Fortunately this Joe is very shy and very friendly.

Eleking or Ele-chan from Ultra Seven is another of the "mascot" ultra kaiju. If two ultra kaiju have to appear in anything, chances are they will be Gomora and Eleking. In fact, in Ultraman Rising you can see Eleking in a monitor right next to Gomora (around an hour and eight minutes in). It's a dinosaur-like eel monster with (of course) electric powers, and the enforcer of an all-female bug-like alien species set to conquer the earth, that are nonetheless very affectionate towards their pet-weapon dino-eel. The fact that Eleking's masters are always women may explain why the Kaiju Step one is a very femenine and elegant girl despite having King in the name, though no less dangerously electric.

Alien Guts or Guts-chan here is a very little alien bird child who can multiply into three separate individuals to cause all the destruction in their sincere attempts to help out. The original duo from Ultra Seven meanwhile are ruthless alien invaders that are infamous for freaking crucifying the aforementioned hero, leading to decades of japanese media having christian imagery for the sake of looking cool, most notably Neon Genesis Evangelion, because these birds did it first and it looked so cool.

Alien Kemur or Kemu-chan is a very agile alien that comes from the distant future of 2020 to consume humans and extend his lifespan. Here he's a friendly but competitive ninja from the present, and has a rivalry with Red King being the speed to his strenght. Like Kanegon, he pre-dates Ultraman, being from Ultra Q.

Motokureron or Kureron-chan originates from the whimsical, fairy-tale like Ultraman Taro. A kid found him as a baby and fed him until he grew to giant size, but when the kid couldn't feed him anymore he turned destructive; fortunately he was easy to pacify with food, including the kind that made him shrink. He retains his glutonny and clumsiness in Kaiju Step, often doing the bad thing (tm) so the others can teach the kids in the audience why you shouldn't do the bad thing (tm).

Nova or No-chan originates from the surprisingly dark Ultraman Leo. This creepy and bizarre ghost-like alien created a red mist that made people go crazy, and manipulated a kid with illusions of his deceased family, and under his cloth there are lots of tentacles and a scythe. So of course, in Kaiju Step she's a happy and energic little girl that loves to sing.

Mugera or Muge-chan is by far the most obscure kaiju of the cast. She's from the 2001 series Ultraman Cosmos, the one where the titular hero protects monsters instead of fighting them. Mugera is an ET-like cryptid that lives in an amusement park that only kids can see, with the ability to fix toys and heal wounds with her magic. After the amusement park closes down she phones home and the protagonists have to protect her from the goverment wich is a little too eager to shoot down the UFO that came to pick her up. In Kaiju Step she likes reading and plants.

And that was your daily dose of kaiju sugar, that may be overdose because you probably already met Emi. Cheers!

[imaginesmai]

Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸

daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🌿

IN WHICH.. the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..

warning! this fic contains: fem!reader // use of y/n

🎧- lovesick by laufey

1.7k

Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep. 

As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.

Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up. 

Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up  for the day. 

Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.

He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance. 

“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.

“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.

“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“ 

You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.

“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder. 

“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away. 

You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.

But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.

You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.

Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days. 

The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted. 

In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better. 

However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.

Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like. 

So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.

Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.

“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.

“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.

“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.

“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.

“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”

“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.

“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”

“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“

“And how many have asked her out?”

Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.

Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.

“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.

“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.

“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.

“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.

“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.

“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.

“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.

The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out. 

Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes. 

You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.

Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.

“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in. 

“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.

“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.

“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.

-

“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.

“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.

“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.

“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound. 

“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.

“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.

“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin. 

“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.

“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.

“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.

“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.

“I’d like that.” 

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[fanaticsnail]

First Time: Wire

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 5,700+

Themes: Wire x afab!reader, first time, mdni, 18+, smut, NSFW, drinking, partying, fingering, coaching, feelings, plot, lengthy fic, virginity loss, Dom Wire behaves a little subby in some moments.

Notes: This one got out of hand and ran away with me. I hope you fall in love along the way with the big commander. This fic is dedicated to @a-killer-obsession who's work had me initially catch feelings for the big guy. I hope you enjoy this fic!

What started as a night of relaxing and making merriment with your crew, turned into a half-hazardly concocted drinking game between the entirety of the crew serving aboard the Victoria Punk. Ales sloshing lazily, laughs echoed throughout the canopies and draped curtains making their large booth private to the public eye. Although their space was secluded, many would not be able to drown out the uproarious hilarity springing between the easy rapport of the crew.

“Never have I ever been pegged,” a crewmate suggested, resulting in laughs and many of the crew taking hefty swigs.

“Never have I ever engaged in pet play: whether owner or pet,” another suggestion prompted a large assortment of your crewmates drinking their fill while laughing. You peered down into your tankard with a forlorn expression written on your face.

While you loved your crew, and enjoyed raising hell and creating mayhem wherever you docked, you truly haven't done any of these things. A small, romantic kiss on the cheek was all you ever received before taking up arms and bending the knee to Eustass Kid as your captain.

The crew was friendly enough, and one of them would’ve indulged you if you'd asked them to, but there was one thing holding you back from ever expressing it.

They were all so experienced, and you were afraid you'd mess it up.

“Never have I ever fucked in public,” more merriment and drinks sloshed over the brims and into the mouths of your friends. “Never have I ever cried in relief during or after sex.” A surprising number of crewmates raised their cups to their lips, or drank from their straws between pursed lips. “Never have I ever been overstimulated and forced to have multiple orgasms in a single session.”

While the game continued on, you continued peering down into your beverage and glared at the contents, never falling even lower than a butterfly’s wing. The only time you managed to take a sip was before the content became raunchy, and even that was tame.

At a gruff call of your name, you snap your head over towards your captain.

“Not drinkin’?” Kid cackled at you, “Either you ain't hearin’ half of this shit because you're lost in ya’ mind, or,” Kid leaned forward in his seat, a challenging twinkle lurking beneath his smudged eyeliner, “You're not half as adventurous as the lot of us in the bedroom.”

This garnered a large uproar at your expense, a fluster rising in your chest and causing your face to swell with heat. Breath hitching, you could barely speak to your defense before your stoic defender snatched the tankard from your hand.

“Thanks for holding my sixth for me, sweetheart,” Wire took up your cup and rose it to his lips, taking a small swig from the rim, “I know you've already finished your two, but I appreciate you takin’ care of me.”

Wire raised the tankard to his lips and took a hefty swig from the lip of the container. Upon returning to his regular stature, he swayed in his rhythm, and a little spilled some of the contents within the container on the ground beneath him.

“Fuck, I-I think I’ve had a bit too much,” he slurred his speech, hooking his arms on your shoulders and pressing his cheek to the crown of your head, “Take me home, would you? See you lot back at the ship when you stumble on home.”

You looked to your captain who clicked his tongue before waving you off, dismissing the two of you for the night. You hastily braced the towering form of the giant dwarfing you, ensuring his body was flush with your own while you aided him in his stupor towards the door.

Upon meeting the outdoor air, you sucked in its freshness and took a moment to truly satisfy your senses before fully preparing yourself to take the larger man towards home once more.

“Easy does it, Wire,” you encouraged him, slowly attempting to aid him in his motions with every step. “Just walk with me, commander. Mirror my steps with yours.”

Each stuttered step he took was marred with a lazy stupor. His body clung to yours as if it was the only tether anchoring him to the earth. With every foot forward you placed on the footpath, Wire would attempt to place one of his own: only succeeding in rolling his ankle and staggering every step he took.

Finally reaching the commander’s quarters, you aided him to sit on his bed while drawing his curtains to a close. While you and the commander were not as practiced in this routine, you wanted him to be as set up as he could be while experiencing a moment of weakness.

Reaching down, you claimed one of his boots in your hands, followed immediately by the other as you placed him into his bed. While he sat up on his mattress, you unfastened the brass buckle of his cloak and gently rolled it away from his shoulders in a bid to aid him in his comfort.

The taller man furrowed his brows as you aided in his night ritual, peering intently at you in awe of your next move.

He witnessed your every action while he allowed you to take care of him on the way back to the Punk. Every kindness, every soft moment, every smile while you guided him home had been a large change to his usual company. It had been so long since he experienced such sweetness, he had no clue as to what to do with it.

Just as you managed to hook his cloak on the hook and reach for his sleep-slacks and readying him more for slumber, as you would your own, a firm hand circled your wrist and held you steady. He placed your hands back inwards of yourself gently with a small smile.

“Never mind me, love,” he softly whispered, releasing your wrist and giving it two soft taps in response. “I'm alright. I wanted to give you an out. Looked like you were uncomfortable with the conversation, and I didn't like seeing you with that unease. You can leave me and go back out, or get some sleep. I don't mind.”

Wire, as it turns out, straightened his spine immediately to sit upright and hold your eyes with his own. Rolling his neck on his shoulders, he hissed out with every click before satisfying his joints and holding himself firm.

“You-...” You halted your speech, peering at him with widened eyes and your lips gulping, “...You're sober?”

Wire couldn't help but chuckle, removing his meshed socks and leaving him in his harness and briefs while he readied himself for bed.

“Of course I'm sober. You think I can't handle six drinks in succession?” He shook his head gesturing down to himself, “Honestly. Look at me, bright eyes. One little drink is worth maybe a fifth of what I can hold in my person. Six is barely one to me.”

“Then what was with-?” You began, only halting once he chuckled over your question.

“-The little act? Please,” he shook his head, releasing him of his harness and reaching for his dark sleep-shirt beside his bed. “I… look, I don't want to be too forward here, so please halt me if I speak out of place.” Shrugging his dark shirt over his head, he snickered up at you.

“You hadn't touched your drink. I clocked it as soon as we began the little contest,” he gently carded his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “If I noticed it, it was only a matter of time until the captain did, and knowing him? He’d ask questions. Didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” you sigh out softly, “I-...” Peering down at your toes, you feel that somber wave come crashing over you, “...Thank you.”

“You ace, aro, uninterested, repulsed, or inexperienced?” Wire asked plainly, tugging at his shirt to adjust the wrinkles. “Being perfectly candid with you, there's nothing wrong with any of those answers. Just curious, is all. Go on. Humor me.”

“Inexperienced.”

“Oh?” he queried, tilting his head to the side and taking you in. “How inexperienced?”

The silence that followed that question was more than enough for Wire to place the pieces together. Slowly peering at you, he moved his dark eyes over your body up to your eyes that clearly avoided him.

“Do you want me to walk you through it?” he offered simply, offhanded as if he was implying for you to take an extra sandwich he prepared for himself in the kitchen. “Just one friend to another. If you're curious, that is.” He slowly turned away, his throat catching as the implications caught up with him.

“Not saying you need to. If you're perfectly content with remaining you are now, I just-...” Your eyes slowly rose to meet his understanding ones, your expression daring him to say more. “I just want to help. If you want me to, that is.”

You sniff out a small scoff with your eyes rolling at his suggestion, turning your head from him and facing the door. The shuffle of material indicated he was changing out of his hot pants into his sleep slacks, using the opportunity of your eyes no longer watching to do so.

“While I appreciate the offer, commander,” you offer with a subtle sneer, “I'd rather my first time not be out of pity, but because someone found me attractive.”

Reaching for the door and beginning to make your exit by turning the handle, you're cut short by a loud, shrill whistle cutting through the air sprung from the lips of the commander behind you.

“Oi,” he barks out coarsely, “Turn back around, would you?” Apprehensively removing your hand from the door, Wire orders you one more time before you're far enough from the door, “Lock it behind you. Trust me, we're both going to appreciate it.”

Doing as he's commanded you, you flick the latch locked before turning back around to slowly examine the commander with your eyes. Wire has one single brow cocked, peering up at you. Clad in only his fishnets and small briefs sans torso harness, he wriggled his index finger to beckon you in while patting the mattress.

“Come here,” he offered you, more as a small taunt than an order. Huffing out a growl, you saunter over and plop yourself onto his bed beside him. Reaching forward, Wire grasped your chin and slowly coaxed you towards him.

“Kiss me,” he suggested with a small smirk, tilting his head to the side and drawing in closer.

“I just said-.”

“-You wanted your first time to be with someone attracted to you,” he parotted your words back to you, arching his brows and offering you more of a smile in place of his smirk. “And I wouldn't ask you to kiss me if I didn't.”

“Commander-.”

“-Kiss me.”

Darting your eyes between his, you scrunch your nose up before slowly tilting your head and brushing his lips with your own. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed. His eyelashes brushed with your cheeks as he slowly guided each motion and roll of your lips seeping into his. You felt prompted to close your own, feeling completely in awe of how easily you two fell together.

Quickly giving yourself over to it, your mouth mirrored his movements, opening and parting with his to match. Wire pulled away, gently whispering against your lips while his hand relinquished its hold on your chin.

“Open.”

Unsure as to what he meant, you felt him lean in and softly pried your lips open with his own. His tongue darted out, seeking out yours and brushing against the muscle with his own. You felt your breath flee from your chest as his hands slowly drew down to your thighs and rubbed soothing circles against your body.

“Good,” he whispered his praise against your lips, gently tugging at your lips with his own while pulling away. “You've kissed me. Well done.” He lulled his head to the side, slowly drawing his palm up to cup your cheek within. “You're learning quite quickly.”

With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you swat his hand away and turn your head back towards the door. Wire follows your gaze, before turning back towards you and seeking your cheek out with his lips.

“You could leave,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek with a smile, “Or,” his lips traveled to your chin, the tickle of his facial hair tingling against your skin, “We can see where this goes.”

“Oh?” you snap back, turning your face to meet his with a look of intrigue. “And where do you see this going? Going to take my virginity, Wire? Kiss away the pain at the stretch and tell me it'll pass?”

Taken aback a little by your comment, Wire furrows his brows and darts his gaze around your face. Settling on your eyes, he curls his upper lip in response before offering you his rebuttal.

“One, I am quite fond of kisses, and would gladly offer you any affection you want whenever you want it,” he spoke with only truth found within his gruff rumble, “And two, if it hurts, I haven't done a good enough job of making you ready to take me, and will strive to do better.”

��What?” you ask cautiously. Wire slowly reaches for your hand, taking it in his own and rolling his thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“Sex can hurt the first time in some cases,” he nodded, reaching your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against the back of your hand. “A slight pinch, a little sting at the stretch, but when properly prepared by a partner?” He turned your hand in his grip, pressing his lips to your palm, “Going slow with complete trust between you and me?”

He traveled his lips to your pulse, pressing a sweet kiss against the rapid rhythm coursing through your veins.

“The whole experience can be pleasurable.”

Hastily snatching back your hand again from his grip, his confusion was only temporary as you placed either palm beside his cheeks and drew him towards you. Your lips clashed with his, causing his breath to hitch as he allowed you to dominate and control each motion and movement.

Repeating the motions he'd pressed into you a few moments prior, his hands find your hips and gently guide you to straddle his waist. Your knees crawled forward, placing them either side of his hips without breaking the intense kiss.

Wire offered to help you through your first time, if you're willing to share such a circumstance with him. You've surprised yourself to know that you were more than just willing.

His sweet words and gentle motions coaxed desire from you the longer your lips found his. Desire and need begun to grow in intensity, your breaths coming out in gentle pants of breath while he smiled against your lips.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, breaking the kiss against your lips and feeling your caress immediately draw down to press against his neck. “Ah, shit.” He whined as his head lulled to the side and permitted you to kiss, mouth and bite at the side of his skin. “You need to slow down.”

“I don't want to slow down,” you whisper against his neck, “I want to go all the way, commander-.”

“-Wire.” He corrected you, moving his larger hand up to circle the scruff of your neck and lifted you back. Your eyes met his, finding only kindness and desire in his expression. “If I'm going to be joining myself with you, for the first time at least, I'd like you to use my name.”

“Wire,” you tested his name against your palate, feeling the way it rolled off your tongue and grew the thickness in the air between you. He spoke your name in turn, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Doing a good job,” he praised you, “Now, think about what you want.”

“I don't understand, Wire,” you furrow your brows in puzzlement. “I've told you what I want. I want everything.”

His hand gently cups your chin, thumbing over your lip in a gentle circle while smiling at you.

“Not what I meant,” he shook his head, his nose scrunching playfully up at you. “There's a variety of ways this can go for us, and I'm going to ask you what you want before I just do it.” You dart your eyes between his, briefly down to his lips, and back up again to his eyes.

“I don't understand.” Your shrug caused him to scoff and click his tongue at you.

“You really haven't done anything like this before, have you?” he asked, causing you to shy away from his touch and look down to where your lap met his. He chased your gaze, drawing up your chin in his grasp to meet his eyes. “It's not a bad thing, sweetheart. Just means I'm going to have to be explicit with you. I can do that, just stop me if it gets too much. Just stop me if there's something that interests you.”

“Gets too much?” you furrow your brows, “Interests me-?”

His hands fall to rest on your thighs as he leans his larger frame down to whisper against the shell of your ear.

“I can touch you, you can touch me,” he punctuated each statement with a smooth kiss to your neck and ear. “And by touch, I mean: I mean my cock and your cunt.” A warm flush spread up to your cheeks and caused your breath to hitch. “We can use hands, fingers, mouths, toys, tongues: anything you want to coax out your pleasure with me, I am offering it for you.”

You felt arousal begin to pool in your undergarments, weeping from your slit and causing your abdomen to clench at his words. He continued to press kisses against your skin, moving his hands towards your waistband and hold you flush against his hardening cock.

“Or, you can grind in my lap like this,” he motioned you backwards and forwards, slowly rocking you atop his lap in motions that hit your clit and caused your breath to hitch. “You can also do this on my face, and I can please you that way.”

“Wire,” you gasped out, moving to place your hands on his shoulders to steady your movements.

“Is that where you're wanting to go?” Wire asked you, his breath tingling against your neck and erupting it in goose-flesh. “You can take those pants off right now and get off on my face if you want.”

“N-No,” you stutter, pushing him away to lay him flat on the bed beneath you. He chuckled, holding his hands up defensively. You crawl up his larger body, arching your back and pressing your chest into his. “No, I don't want that. Not this time.”

“Oh?” he smiled lazily up at you. “Want me to keep listing the things I am prepared to do with you?”

“No,” you uttered firmly. “I don't want you to keep listing.”

“But I didn't even get to talk about the kinky shit, honey,” he teased you, moving his hands up to gently caress your skull and grip the base of your head. “I've got a strap you can peg me with, if you'd prefer it-.”

“-Wire,” you warned him, causing him to chuckle further up at you.

“Yes, dear?” he teased you, moving his hands down to weave around your waist. “Did nothing catch your interest so far?”

You huff in mock agitation, slowly leaning down and pressing your lips against his. He hums enthusiastically, reciprocating your kiss with similar motions. His smile never left his face, his hands slowly dipping and caressing your body with his broad hands. Pulling away from his lips, you couldn't fight the smile growing on your lips as he continued to stare up at you.

“I just want…” you stop yourself, feeling his eyes never leaving your own. He didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but it was a feeling you felt nevertheless. “...I just want it to happen naturally. I don't want to talk, I just want- ah!”

Wire cut you off by flipping you beneath him and caging you within his broader arms. His eyes darkened, staring at you in a manner that felt scolding.

“Communication is everything to me,” he growled, reaching down and immediately ripping your pants down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed. You shrieked back, moving to cover your center with your legs, only to feel them being pried apart by Wire's hands. His fingers sought out your core, gently carding through your folds and testing your arousal.

“For example,” he continued, his eyes focussed on your expression as your breath hitched. “I need to make sure you're actually wanting this. I need to know how wet you are for me.” His fingers dipped up to you with your clit, his legs holding your legs apart by pinning them down. “I need to know how you touch yourself, so I can bring you over that edge myself.”

“Wire-!” you cry out, already feeling your slick seep out and weep onto his hands. He chuckled, continuing to hold you hostage to your desires while championing you towards the edge.

“I need to know how you want me to fuck you,” he purred in your ear, leaning forward and watching as you scrunched your eyes shut and parted your lips in bliss. Drawing closer towards your euphoria by his hands, he leant down and dusted your ear with his whisper, “I need to know how much you want me to.”

“Oh, fuck, Wire!” By simply his fingers teasing your clit and playing with your entrance alone, you felt your world crash around you. White split your vision while Wire ripped an unexpected high from your body. 

“There you go,” he watches on hungrily as you coat his fingers in your slick while softly rocking with every twitch. “Good job, cumming for me.” His greed had him wanting to overstimulate you and tear another three out of you, but he withheld his urge and slowly removed his hand from your pussy. 

Your chest heaved, feeling overwhelmed at pleasure being coaxed out by the hands of another. Wire slowly drew his hands either side of your hips and rubbed his hands on the bones. 

“That… was mean,” you panted out, moving up to support yourself on your elbows. 

“‘That’ was showing you the importance of healthy communication with bedroom partners,” he rolled his eyes at you before redressing his face with his smile. “And it was also me showing you how dedicated I am to this.” His lips gently eased down to press against your forehead, “How dedicated I am to you.”

“Thank you, Wire,” you offer him with a soft pout. He smiles down at you, his expression charming you with its honesty. 

“Do you want to continue?” He asked you. His eyes were hopeful and soft, something you truly did not expect to be on the receiving end of from the taller man. 

The embarrassment and fluster only grows when you feel your body hastily recover from your former high and begin to grow once more. Your need is apparent in the way you brush your legs together and attempt to find friction. Wire notices your need once again growing between your legs and chuckles down at you. 

“Words.” He nodded down at you. “You have them. Use them.” Lying back on the mattress beneath him, you gaze into his eyes through half-hooded lashes. 

“Please.” 

“There you go,” he praised you, gently caressing your cheek with one hand while expertly using the other to tug down his sleep pants. “Good job finding your words.” 

He drew away from you to open his bedside drawer, pulling out a metallic packet and tearing at the serrated corner. You watched with interest at him rolling the elastic sheathe over his cock, now revealed over his waistband. 

Wire, the man over nine feet tall, was extremely large. His cock was thick, heavy, and already weeping from the tip now shrouded beneath the gummy material. Your first time was about to be taken by the hands of a giant, and you were beginning to doubt your ability. 

Sensing your unease, Wire peered down at you while the tightened lip of the condom fully met his base. He had faith you could take him, but viewing how your anxiety began to claw up to your face, he felt the need to soothe you. 

“Would you prefer we don't? Or I could use a toy?” he queried, leaning down by concaving his chest in a deep arch to meet your forehead with his. “I know I'm larger than you, but I have faith you can take me. If you're unsure, I'll stop right here.”

You darted your eyes between his, giving a quiet shake of your head while hooking your knees over his hips. The tip of his cock pressed against your slit and caused you to automatically seek it out to coax into yourself. 

“I don't want to stop,” you utter firmly, reaching up and carding your fingers through his salt and peppered curls. “And I don't want a toy.” You tugged him into your embrace, forcing his tip to begin it's intrusion into your core with your breath hitching. “I want you. Just me and you.”

“Fuck,” Wire gasped, feeling the way your walls began to stretch around him to invite him in. Although dulled by the thin sheathe holding his cock within, he could feel how wet you were to accommodate the stretch. 

Once his tip goes in, it stings at the ring of muscle straining to take him within you. You suck a hiss through your teeth, causing him to still and hold your motions back. He notices the telltale signs of pain on your features, printing him to reach down between your bodies and gently rock the pearled bud at the top of your pussy. 

“You're so wet, and you feel so good,” he praised you, feeling your pain falling from you and pleasure homing in on its place. “You're doing wonderfully, sweetheart. We can just rock like this if you like?” 

“No. Keep going,” you whined at him, feeling the most full you had ever felt. You had tried to enter yourself with your fingers in private, but nothing felt quite as comforting as this man coaching you through the stretch and filling you with his cock. As his fingers continued to tease at your clit, you felt yourself open up more to him with your pussy eagerly sucking him in. 

“Oh, fuck,” Wire shuddered out, almost losing himself at your enthusiasm. He was trying to maintain control of his motions, but you were simply too much for his body to truly handle. 

The truth of it all was that Wire had a crush. Heat was the first one to point it out to him, to which he denied and denied until he could deny it no longer. His heart swooned for you at each kindness you brought onto him. You were sweet to him, a sweetness he hadn't known in quite some time. 

Your sweetness was always honest and true: not found in company he paid for, or pleasure being thrown at him by locals from port to port desperate to fuck a pirate. Knowing he was your first, having the task of drawing out any waves of bliss he could to your persons? He felt more infatuated than ever with you. 

Just those sweet kisses alone had him hard beneath his sleep pants, a likely confession he would surely make once he had you screaming out in ecstasy and receiving the appropriate amount of aftercare from him. He adored you, and wanted you to be his. 

Finally sheathing most of his length inside your walls, he felt the barrier of your cervix giving him some pushback and alerting him you were stretched to your limit. He peered down at you, noticing your flushed skin and parted lips huffing and panting as you felt fully stretched for the first time. 

“W-Wire,” you shuddered out, sniffling while overwhelmed by the full feeling in your belly. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, withdrawing his cock only to slowly rock it back into you. 

“There you go,” he praised you against your lips, pulling away only to praise you further. “Look at you. Taking me like I was always made for you.” 

The feeling of being stretched so fully was foreign, and you truly didn't think you could cum from this alone. As soon as you thought it, his hand still between your legs rocked your clit in time with the slow rock of his hips. You let out a needy mewl, your back bowing as more of your slick fled from your pussy to dampen Wire’s bed sheets beneath you. 

“Good job, bright eyes,” he continued to rock into you. “Just like that. Relax into me, and I'll get you where you need to be.” He increased the pressure and frequency against your clit, his hips rocking in more heavy intensity. Each time his mushroomed tip hit your cervix, your vision buzzed and throat choked at how stuffed he was making you feel. 

“Too much, too little?” he panted out, forcing your eyes back up to meet his face as he peered down at you. 

“Is-... Ah-...” Your voice caught in your throat as you felt yourself draw nearer to the edge once more, still over sensitive from the orgasm prior. “Is this even good for you-?”

“-Don't you fucking dare doubt it isn't,” he barked down at you, removing his hand from your clit and hooking his hands beneath your shoulders to cage you in closer. “I-I’m trying to make you feel good, but if you want me to just fuck you like an animal, I can do that too.”

The new angle managed by his cock entering you from this close proximity had you immediately more comfortable. There was something pure about being held so closely. Having a man between your legs losing himself within your body like this felt more pleasurable than if he continued to hold himself away from you. 

“So good, Wire, ” you whined up at him, lacing your ankles behind his back. His crotch hit your clit with every in-thrust, feeling his cock begin to twitch within you. The tightening in your stomach indicated how close you were, as did the crude squelching from Wire's cock diving into your pussy with every in-thrust. “Right there, right there!”

“Ah, sh-shit,” Wire barked out, feeling spurts of his cum already beginning to swell the condom as he almost toppled over his edge. He continued the pace, turning his head and claiming your lips beneath his own in a rough and needy kiss. 

Your walls begin to spasm around him, crying out for the second time, just as he meets his edge. The intensity of your ecstasy caused your teeth to latch onto his bottom lip, causing him to immediately flood the sheath with a heavier release. the joint euphoria caused the room to thicken as your heads both swirled with the bliss. 

Steadily rocking to a close, he pulled out his cock while maintaining contact with your lips against his. Hands found one another's heads, a mixture of hair, sweat and heat rising between you both the longer you held his lips on yours. 

Wire had fucked before. Many times before. More times than he could truly count before you. But the feeling of your lips meeting his, the little whimpers as you felt your neediness dissipate into a soft afterglow was foreign to him. 

While this was your first time laying with another person in its entirety, this was truly Wire's first time in making love to another person. He knew in that moment that he couldn't go back to friendship, and truly hoped you felt the same. 

Pulling away from his kiss, you looked up into his face and met a foreign expression from the taller man. Still slightly knocked for a loop at the intensity of your orgasm, you caressed his cheek with your hand and thumbed over the styled whiskers sprouting against his cheek. 

“You okay, Wire?” you asked him innocently, feeling a dull ache begin to set in within your abdomen and sting at your entrance. He darts his eyes between yours before retracting himself from your arms and rising to stand. 

Without much warning, he hooked his arm beneath your knees and at your back, cradling you into his chest and coaxing you off his bed. No words were uttered from his lips as he drew you to his private ensuite and began readying a bath for you. 

“Wire, what are you doing?” you asked him softly. He continued to hold you against himself while he tested the water with his forearm to check its temperature. Filling the bath to the brim, he gazed softly down at you and sat you atop his knee while aiding you out of your shirt. 

“Wire, talk to me-.”

“-I’m pouring you a bath so the ache doesn't hurt so bad tomorrow. It has Epson salts in to aid in repairing the muscle pains,” he nodded softly, maintaining eye contact with you while aiding you within the bath as you stood on shaky legs. “This is as important as working you up to take me. Need to ensure you're taken care of afterwards.”

You sighed out as the water overwhelmed your senses as much as Wire's sweetness was causing you whiplash. 

“Careful, Wire,” you warned him with a soft laugh, eyes closing as you felt his hands dip into the water and work your shoulders out of their tension. “You're going to make me want to do this again and again, never leaving this room if not to do my duties or eat.”

“While that was not my initial intention,” he purred against your ear behind you, “I would be lying if I didn't say I didn't want that now. Would that be such a bad thing?"

“What?” you gasp, turning back to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn't mind doing this again with you permanently. Exclusively,” he admitted softly, his expression almost sheepish, “If that's something you want with me.” 

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile before peering up at his downturned eyes. With the power balance between you now shifted, you slowly reach for his cheek and guide him down towards you. 

“I would love that, Wire.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel @ane5e

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[chleem]

Not a big deal pt3

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament. 

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex, etc.

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ bit long but enjoy! | p1 | p2

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

4 years later

“Drew, Drew Starkey.”

The waiter checks his name off the list, and gestures inside, “follow me then, Mr Starkey.”

Drew follows the waiter in, looking around the place. Hawks rented the entire restaurant for the night, just like every year, to celebrate the new season. It's his third season with Hawks, so he knew the procedures well enough now. 

Tonight will just be free food, bonding with teammates, etc. Could you say he was looking forward to it? No. He would much rather stay home, especially this year. 

Why especially this year? Because of his new teammate, Luke. 

It wasn’t hatred or anything; in fact, they had amazing chemistry on the court. Communicating through nods or glances, as if they’ve known each other for forever. Really, the coach was shocked at how good they did during preseason; he’s now convinced there’s a chance of winning. 

Luke seems to have matured, anger issues not the same as before and actually willing to listen to advice. He was friendly towards Drew, and overall, did not look so bothered about losing the championship during college anymore. 

It was Drew who felt uncomfortable around him. Why? Well, he fucked his virgin sister, who was 18 at the time. Worse, whenever Drew stares at Luke for too long, he sees your face. Your eyes, nose, lips, everything. 

“Nice suit, man,” one of Drew’s teammates and best friend, Jay, compliments him, as the two approach each other first. Every year it was required to wear formal for this occasion, since high executives would be here to celebrate too. Drew, has worn the same black suit for the third time now. 

“Yeah, same with you,” Drew smiles, the two of them engaging in a small hug. “Um, are we seated together?”

“Yeah, over there,” Jay points over to a table near the window. Each table had a maximum of six people, and already two of their teammates were there. “Man, we should some drinks first.”

“No need to remind me,” Drew replies, as the two of them head to the bar area. The goal is to get drunk enough so that the executive's’ speeches would sound interesting, but sober enough to make basic human interactions.

“So, you came alone this year too?” Jay asks, ordering a whiskey, which Drew also signals for. 

Drew smiles sourly, his friend reminding him about his single status again. Plenty of hookups throughout the years, but never a proper girlfriend due to his busy schedule. “Y’know me. Too busy for that shit.”

Jay nods, as the whiskeys are presented in front of them. Drew immediately downs his, while Jay just takes a small sip. “Well, I’m seeing someone, if you’re wondering.”

“No shit,” Drew laughs, thinking his friend is kidding. Jay smiles down at his drink, probably thinking about the girl. Oh. He really is seeing someone. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Her name’s Phoebe.”

“…and?”

“Yeah. That’s all I’m telling you.”

Drew shakes his head, ordering another whiskey. So much for being friends. “She has a sister, by the way,” Jay speaks up. Oh. Drew knew where this was going. “She might be the perfect one for you.”

Jay’s setting him up. Again. His friend has failed every single time, and it seems like he wasn’t gonna give up. “Hey man,” Drew pats Jay’s shoulder, pursing his lips. “Just quit, okay? I don’t date. Y’know that.”

“When’s the last time you’ve dated then? Have you ever even had a girlfriend?”

Drew frowns, taking his hand off his friend. “Just, no. Please.”

Drew hears a sigh from beside him, and when his second whiskey arrives, he sips on it slowly. “Fine. I just think, that you would be very happy in a relationship.”

Drew smiles against his cup, finding that statement ridiculous. Society was weird, thinking that if one stays single for too long, it meant that they were…depressed in some way. It was tiring. 

“Hey, Luke’s here,” Jay suddenly comments. Drew turns around, scanning the place for Luke. 

Sure enough, there he was. 

And fucking hell.  

His eyes land on you, standing beside Luke. 

Was it even you? He wasn’t so sure. From far away, it did look like you. 

“We should go greet him,” Jay elbows Drew. 

Drew did not want to greet him. He is very comfortable here, right next to the bar. 

But Jay urges him, leaving him no choice but to walk over. And until Drew was standing directly in front of Luke, was he sure that it was you. 

Fuck. 

Four years later, and Drew’s body still has reaction towards seeing you. It brings him back to the first night he laid eyes on you, thinking how innocent & pretty you looked in a crowd of drunk and chaotic college students. 

You look…amazing. Drew was pretty sure his eyes were widened to the maximum point right now, his brain trying to process the sight of you. Especially, the red dress you were wearing, that's making his imaginations run wild. 

No. He must be dreaming right now. After four years, he sees you again? No, this shit only happens in movies, red-string type shit. Was he getting drunk already?

“Um, Drew, you okay?”

Drew quickly averts his gaze back to Luke, his grip on his glass cup tightening. “Yeah, yeah, um, who’s this?” Does he sound cool right now? Because he wasn’t so sure if he was playing his usual chill self. 

Luke wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Meet my sister. Y/n. Y/n, this is Drew and Jay. My teammates.”

Shit. So it is you. The girl that Drew can’t seem to forget, the girl that haunts his wildest fantasies for four years now. 

When Drew makes eye contact with you, he expects you to have some sort of reaction. But you don’t. In fact, you just quickly glanced at him, a polite smile on your lips. Do you even remember him? “Nice to meet you,” your voice causes Drew to freeze yet again, his mind going back to that night. Your moans, your laugh, your-

“Dude,” Jay elbows Drew yet again. “Aren’t you going to shake her hand?”

It seems like you already shook Jay’s hand, and it's Drew’s turn now. 

He licks his lips embarrassingly, and he shakes your hand. Yep. No doubt it was you. He remembers clearly about the way you scratched his back that night, the tug of your hands in his hair, and your fingertips on his abs-

“Um, kind of need my hand back,” your voice cuts him out of his thoughts. 

Oh. He was still holding your hand. He retreats it reluctantly, feeling his ears heat up. Gosh, why is he so flustered right now? He feels the stares of Luke, or more, like glares. “So…where are we seated?” Luke asks. 

“Near the window.”

“Great. Um, we’re not late, are we?”

“No one really cares.”

Luke and Jay continue to engage in small talk, whereas Drew just gives up on listening. Not just give up, he literally was unable to engage in anything right now. It feels like he's in a dream.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you, absolutely captivated by you. By this matured, attractive presence you gave off. You were just standing there, trying to appear interested in this small talk. 

And a question he kept repeating in his head was: do you remember him, like how he remembers you? Do you still think about him from time to time, like he does about you?

You definitely can feel Drew’s stare, his stare making you feel as if you were under a microscope right now. You turn and meet his eyes, and he panics, yet again. 

Your eyes tell nothing, of whether or not you remember him. And the small smile you give him confirms it; you forgot about who he was. Fuck. Now Drew felt like the biggest fool to exist. 

“If everyone could get back to their seats! The food will arrive shortly,” the host announces through a loud microphone. 

“Let’s go then, I’m starving,” Luke squeezes your shoulders, to get you moving. 

“Same,” you look away from Drew, and let Luke guide you over to your table. 

Drew immediately gulps the rest of his whiskey down, loosening up his tie. Fuck. This was going to be a long night. 

——

Drew wasn’t one to eavesdrop. In fact, he hated eavesdroppers. Why are you listening on someone else’s private conversation?

Well, Drew hates himself very much right now. 

You sat near the window, at the very end of the table. Across from you was Drew’s other teammate, Kirk. He sat next to Kirk, and across from Luke. The whole night, it was very obvious that Kirk had a thing for you, asking you questions about your life, hobbies, etc.

So now, Drew knew that you’re currently studying law in college, you hate tomatoes but love ketchup, you like museums, you have a horrible sleep schedule, you want to adopt a cat, you hate the cold-

“You’re single, right?”

That makes Drew choke on his food, causing the table to pause and stare at him. He coughs, feeling his whole face going red. “You okay, dude?” Kirk chuckles, patting Drew’s back, as if it’s any help. 

Drew nods, trying to suppress his coughs with the help of water. While drinking, he glances at you, who looks at him with worried eyes. He puts his cup back down, clearing his throat, “so, are you?” 

He ignores the skeptical stares from Luke, his eyes only focused on you. Please, please, say yes. 

You turn away from Drew, just as Luke suddenly speaks up, changing the topic, “can we get another round of this lobster? Its fucking delicious.”

What? Drew’s gaze stays on you, seeing how you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes glued to your plate. Was it, a violating question? Drew had no idea, but seeing how quickly your mood changes, it leaves a bad scar on him. 

——

Huh. you’re staying at the same hotel as him. Well, not just him. The entire team, actually. Luke must have arranged it for you. 

Drew stands behind you, hands in pockets, trying to look as if he wasn’t bursting with joy. While waiting for the elevator, you lean on Luke’s shoulder, your body ready to give up. 

The elevator opens, and the remaining people all squeeze towards it. 

You eventually get squeezed into the corner, with Drew close by. Super close by. With no space at all, Drew is forced to lean into you, his arm against the wall to support him.

This close proximity was driving him insane. 

He feels your breast press closely to his lower chest, your face planted really close to his neck. From this proximity, he certainly can smell your perfume, shampoo, everything. He looks down at you; and surprisingly, you were already staring up at him. You send him a lazy smile, your eyes squinted up at him. 

Cute. He sends you one too, although his smile might be bigger. 

The ding sound is heard, and most of the people inside rush out. Drew was disappointed; he wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. 

He gets himself off of you, now that there’s more space in the elevator, leaning against the wall. He wants to look at you (he already stared a lot during dinner though), memorize more of you before he goes to bed, but Luke turns around and faces you. Drew bites his lip, staring into the ceiling. “Told you tonight was fun, right?”

Okay, now Drew needed to eavesdrop. 

“The guy in front of me was asking too much.”

Yes. Fireworks went off in Drew’s head. “Yeah, Kirk’s a dick. Don’t, don’t date him,” Luke…jokes? Drew wasn’t sure. “Or, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” you chuckle, which makes Drew glance at you. He makes sure to get a quick look of your smile again; fast enough so Luke doesn’t notice. 

“Do you at least feel better now?”

“…yeah.”

“…I know you’re lying, y/n,” Luke disappointedly says.  

No reply heard from you; the ding of the elevator ending the conversation. Drew looks at the screen; the 18th floor. “Goodnight,” you say to Luke, pushing yourself off the wall. To Drew’s surprise, you wave at him. “Goodnight,” you repeat, the same lazy smile on your face. 

“Goodnight,” Drew replies, the smile appearing on its own.

The door closes after you leave, and Drew gets hit with a sad realization; he might never see you again. And he hates that thought. 

Four years. After four years, he gets another chance to see you. And he’s just gonna let you walk away? Just like he did the first time? 

He gets mad suddenly; remembering the lack of interactions the two of you had the entire night, all stolen by Kirk. Luke’s right, Kirk’s a dick. But also, a lucky bastard. He got to sit directly across from you, as well as talk to you. Lucky son of a bitch. 

“Are you… gonna get out?”

Drew snaps out of it, looking up at the elevator screen. 24th floor. Luke is holding the door open for him, wondering why he hasn’t stepped out. “Sorry,” Drew murmurs, walking out. Luke follows him, as the two of them had rooms right next to each other. 

“You okay, man?” Luke laughs, walking beside Drew.

“Yeah, just drank a bit much,” Drew shrugs, scratching the side of his face. 

Luke gets to his room first, “see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” Drew takes his room card out, pressing it against the door. He gets in without another look at Luke, closing the door behind him. 

Huh. So this is how tonight was going to end? Him alone in his hotel room, consumed with the thought of you? (As if he hasn’t been thinking about you for the past four years already) Even Drew was disappointed in himself. 

“Fuck,” he curses, still standing in the entrance of his room, running his hands through his hair stressfully. “Fuck.”

—— 

After knocking on 17 doors, this one might be yours.

Drew stood at the entrance of his room contemplating for ten minutes, whether or not to go see you again. After long chains of thoughts and scenarios, he made up his mind: he’s going to see you.

Problem: he didn’t know your room number. So, he spent almost twenty minutes on the 18th floor, knocking on each door hoping it would be you. 

And now, on room 1818. He was mentally & physically tired, but he wasn’t going to give up.

He presses on the doorbell, twice. He waits for a few seconds that felt like minutes, tapping against the wall impatiently. Just as he gets ready to move onto the next room, the door opens. 

He looks up, and his eyes widen. 

You. You’re as shocked as he is, wondering why someone would knock on your door at such a late hour. 

He first notices your slightly wet hair; droplets dripping down your neck. Your makeup is off, and he just finds you even more beautiful than before. His eyes naturally wander down to your body; finding you in a white lingerie dress. 

Fuck. His brain is malfunctioning yet again.  

“Hello?” He hears you chuckle, which makes him bring his attention back to your face. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, um, Drew. I’m Drew, from earlier, the dinner?”

“…I know. Can I help you?” You ask him yet again, a polite smile on your lips. You quickly glance down at his body; he’s still wearing his suit from earlier. He must’ve not showered yet, despite it being almost two hours after. 

“Um,” he awkwardly licks his lips; All the lines he rehearsed back in his room are now gone. Drew realizes that he’s still standing in the hallway, and he didn’t want to talk to you while standing out here. “Can I, can I come in?”

You furrow your eyebrows, your face clearly showing discomfort. 

He mentally panics, and hurries to add, “I want to talk to you, and it’s rather private. And, important.”

You think about it for a few seconds, listing out the pros & cons of this man coming into your room. You look into his eyes, seeing a sense of urgency and yearning in them. Okay. Maybe he can come in for a while. 

You step out the doorway, opening the door wider. “Sit on the couch, I’ll prepare…tea? Wine?”

“Anything’s fine,” he says, walking in. You close the door behind him, and when he spots your shoes by the door, he takes his off too. 

As he makes himself comfortable on the small couch in front of the bed, you grab your cardigan that rests on one of the dining room chairs, putting it on.

You open the hotel fridge; finding red wine in there. Opening the cupboard, you reach for two glass bottles, and walk towards Drew. He’s taken his suit jacket off, his tie hanging loosely by his neck, his sleeves rolled up. And he’s manspreading, a  position you find to be very hot. 

You have to admit; Drew was attractive. Even more attractive than your ex. Actually, the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. And, he’s got a charming personality to match it. 

But he’s oddly familiar. During the dinner, your gaze can’t help but always drift over to him. Have you seen him from somewhere? Crazy, you can’t seem to remember where you’ve seen him before. An ad? Tv? Huh. 

“So?” You start, sitting beside him. You try opening the bottle, but the cork was screwed on too tight. 

Drew takes it from you; his hands brushing yours. You watch him effortlessly get the cork out, the pop heard in the room. He pours it into the two glasses, and sets it down. He sends you a small smile when he notices your stares. “Wine?”

“Well, you said anything’s fine,” your lips curl up on their own, as you reach for your wine glass. He offers to clink against yours; and you do, the two of you maintaining eye contact while sipping. After, you put your drink back down on the small coffee table. “Why a late night talk?”

Drew licks his lips, glancing down at his lap. He seems to have trouble forming words, fidgeting with his fingers. You lean back into the couch, curious as to what he’s thinking about. 

After seconds that felt like minutes, he said, “You study law?”

Due to the unexpectedness, you chuckle, “yeah. Why?”

He shrugs, “Suits you.”

What is he even saying? “What?” You giggle, at his response. 

You don’t miss the tip of his ears going red; even he thinks his response is funny. “I mean, law sounds fun, and you look like lawyer material.”

“Awesome,” you smile at him, trying to hold back your laughter. “And you look like basketball player material.”

His smile mimics yours; just more awkward. 

He seems to not know what to say, despite telling you that he had something to say to you. Weird. So, you help him, by asking, “are you nervous about the new season?”

His eyes light up, “My third season with Hawks now. But, still nervous.”

“Third season?” He nods, and you reach for your wine yet again. “Hawks fan?”

“Always been the dream,” he admits to you, “grew up watching them, and when they offered, I just had to say yes.”

“Or because no other team offered?”

Shit. That sounded wayyy too rude. But that was your humor, and also your way of talking. Does he find it offensive? Wait, anyone would find that offensive. You should apologize-

He laughs lightly, taking a huge gulp of his wine. “Come on. Give me more credit.”

So…he isn’t offended by your words? You shrug, “never seen you play.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you, leaning back on the couch. “You’re lying.”

“Didn’t even know you until tonight.”

“Liar,” his voice drops low, but a smirk is seen on his lips, as if he’s catching you in a lie right now. But you were being honest; you really didn’t know him until tonight. 

Unless…maybe there’s a reason why he looked so familiar to you? Ugh, why can’t you remember where you’ve seen him from?

“Really,” you say, looking into his blue eyes. 

His eyebrows furrow even deeper, trying to figure out if you were being honest or not. You were. Eventually, he leans forward and pours more wine into his glass. “I believe you,” he murmurs, before sipping on the wine. You watch as he gulps it down; his Adam’s apple moving. “But surely, you’re…a fan of Hawks?”

You shake your head, which makes Drew chuckle. “I…know nothing about basketball.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother’s passion, not mine.”

“Okay,” he adjusts himself on the couch, his body now fully facing you. “Then tell me about law, or stuff like that.”

“‘Stuff like that’?”

“I might bore you if we keep talking about basketball. So, I’ll listen to you.”

“And law isn’t boring to you?”

“Not if you’re talking,” He sends you a warm smile. Woah. Butterflies that you haven’t felt in forever are now forming inside of you. Butterflies that feel different compared to the ones with Zack. “Come on. Tell me. Like, what’s…what new laws have been enforced?”

You laugh; his perception of law is cute. So, that’s exactly what you explain to him, just in simpler terms. His eyes, lips, body tells you that you’ve got his undivided attention; something that makes you smile while talking.

Huh. Weird how this stranger is willing to listen to you yap about laws & everything, as if what you’re saying was as simple was pie. Huh. 

——

“Yes! He said that to me!”

“The audacity,” Drew laughs, making you nod even more. 

You’re telling him the story of your classmate, who’s also your academic rival. Once he accused you of sleeping with the professor, that it’s the only reason why you’ve got such good grades. Thinking about it now, it just sounds funny. “It wasn’t true but he was so sure,” you laugh, recalling his red face while confronting you. 

“He’s a fucking loser,” Drew continues to add, reaching to pour more wine into your glass. The two of you realize that it’s now empty, and you just shrug at him; not really bothered by it. 

You take the chance to glance at the clock; it was two a.m already. The two of you have been talking for more than an hour. You suddenly remembered that Luke told you about an early schedule the team had tomorrow, yet Drew was still sitting here, getting tipsy with you. 

“It’s..getting late,” you bring up, pointing at the clock. 

Drew turns to it, and his eyes widen. But he turns back to you, shrugging. “I guess?”

Is he not getting what you’re hinting at? So, you just tell him, “Luke told me you guys are doing something early tomorrow.”

Drew stares into your eyes, in a way that gets you nervous. But then he looks away, and nods, biting down on his lip. “Um, yeah, totally forgot.”

You smile politely at him, even though deep down you didn’t want him to go. You liked his company, and although it was mostly you talking, he didn't make you feel bad for it. Drew’s…very comforting. 

He grabs his suit jacket, the both of you getting up. “Now I can confidently say, that I know y/n.”

“What?” You smile, wondering what he was saying. You watch as he walks to the doorway, putting his shoes on. 

When he’s done, he opens the door, turning back to you. “A very successful lawyer, that handles cases for the president or something.”

You laugh; that only happens in your dreams. You lean against the doorway, staring into his eyes. You really didn’t want him to go. 

He leans towards you; giving you a hug. His arms wrap around your shoulders, and you hug his waist. Your nose is now filled with the smell of Drew; just like in the elevator earlier, a mix of cologne & alcohol. 

Drew slightly pulls away, just so he could look at you. You do the same, staring up into his eyes, then his lips, then back to his eyes.

He also glances down at your lips, his eyes squinted. 

Then, he kisses your cheek. 

Then, you stand on your toes, planting a light kiss on his cheek too. 

Then, he kisses the corner of your lips. 

Then, you kiss his jawline. 

You look into his eyes, giving him a smitten smile. 

And just like that, Drew couldn’t hold back anymore; he kisses you. The kiss is hungry, passionate, intense, and…

And way too nostalgic for your liking. 

Wait. Wait. 

You pull away from him, feeling a bit overstimulated. Not just from the kiss itself, but…but because of what it reminds you of. 

No fucking way. 

It’s all coming back to you now; this was Drew. The Drew. 

The one you lost you virginity to, the one that didn’t want you.

Wait. Was this even the right Drew? He looks pretty similar to the one you remember, talks similarly, and strangely, also kisses the same. 

“Is something wrong?” His deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

Fuck. No. No, it’s not the same Drew. Because, what are the chances of this being the same Drew that took your virginity? Awfully poetic, if this happens to be the same person. Maybe, Drew is somewhere in West Carolina, coaching for some basketball team. And this Drew, was just some doppelgänger. 

Okay. Yeah, this, this is just a coincidence. You’re just feeling weird because you broke up with Zack a few days ago. Not a big deal. Just, enjoy having this one-night stand with this attractive man. 

You smile, shaking your head. “Just kiss me already,” you murmur, leaning into him. You kiss him lustfully, and he returns it, his hands touching all over you. 

He backs you up into the room again, all while his lips are on you. You giggle at his urgency, the door slamming shut behind him. 

“Don’t you have to get up early?” You giggle, pulling away. 

“I think…it’s not that important,” he throws his suit jacket on the couch, kicks his shoes off, and kisses you again. He kisses you as though it might be the last time he does. 

You pull away, just to push him onto the bed. His head lands on the pillows, and he readjusts himself so his back’s against the headboard. He puts his arms behind his head; and suddenly, you’re hit with the same nostalgic feeling. 

But you ignore that feeling; it’s in the past now. 

He gives you a lazy smirk, as you hover over him, straddling his waist. You can feel his erected cock pressing against your folds. Fuck. 

You lean down and kiss him, a euphoric feeling that you might never get over. Your hands are busy; undoing all his buttons in a messy order. He helps you; slightly sitting up and throwing the shirt to the side. 

Wow. His body? Sculptured by god himself. “Damn,” you voice out, the words just slipping out. Maybe mostly because of how tipsy you were. 

He kisses your collarbone, murmuring, “damn?” There’s a slight chuckle and tease to that, which just makes you smile. Your hands go up to his face, cupping it and forcing him up to stare at you. His eyes…most mesmerizing shade of blue. 

Again, you ignore the nostalgic feeling, that similar look in his eyes that the Drew gave you, four years ago. The similarity is uncanny.

“Such pretty eyes…” he murmurs, sharing the same thoughts you have.

His hands slide your cardigan off, discarding it somewhere else. His eyes go down to your neck, leaning forward and sucking on it. 

Your head leans back in pleasure; his tongue was skilled, you had to admit. He sucks, bites, licks the area, his hands kneading your breasts through the thin material of the lingerie. His lips are warm and soft, compared to the necklace on you. You shamelessly moan out how good it felt; which just drives him crazier. 

Drew’s lips slip lower, sucking on your nipples through the fabric. 

“Shit, Drew…” you moan, your hands slipping down his shoulders, running through his abs, and then to the belt. Your hand brushes his boner; fuck. You want him now, the wetness in your underwear proving it. 

He smirks against your skin, before pulling away. He glances down at your hands tugging his belt, “didn’t know you were the impatient kind.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him back down on his back. “Just shut up,” you groan, even though the smile was apparent on your lips. You back yourself off his waist, until you were on your knees between his legs. You undo his belt as if you’ve done it before, tugging his pants down. 

Holy fuck. You’re salivating at the sight of his dick, fully up and proud. 

You just want to wrap your lips around him, letting him use your mouth to satisfy himself. You palm his length through his boxers, leaning down and planting soft kisses along it. 

He knows you want to give him a blowjob. He can see the thirst in your eyes. He wants it too; but he stops you, his hand going to wrap around your wrist. “Fuck,” he groans, as you look up at him between his legs. In his perspective, it was a very hot sight to see. But it won’t be as hot as what he’s about to purpose to you. “You… I, I wanna taste you too.”

You cock your head to the side, slightly confused. “So you don’t want me to suck your-“

“Yes, I do but I wanna eat your pussy too-“

“What, what, are you saying-“

Oh. Oh. “69?” You gasp, a slight curl on the corner of your lips. 

His lustful and excited eyes confirm it, “you up for it?”

Your pussy is screaming ‘yes!’ But your brain is hesitant; you’ve never done the 69 before. With Zack, he’s tried missionary, doggy, cowgirl, spooning, etc, but never the 69. 

Hell, why not? Sounds interesting, and with Drew, it might feel heavenly. 

“Teach me,” you say, sitting up. 

His eyes widen; either from your approval or your unknowingness to this position. But seeing how intrigued you were to try this, he smirks, nodding. He adjusts himself on the pillows, “you’re in luck, I’m a great teacher.”

“Really?” You lift your dress over your head, now, only left with your underwear on. Drew licks his lips at the sight of your breasts, and when you glance down to his boxers; you see pre-cum already soaking it up. 

“M-hm,” he’s clearly lost in the sight of your nakedness. “Back yourself onto my face.”

The way he says it; just makes you even more horny. 

You do just as he says, not before sliding your underwear off. You keep looking over your shoulder; spreading your legs as you plant your pussy on his face. You make sure to not fully sit on him; afraid that your weight might suffocate him. 

You feel his hands on two sides of your thighs, gripping it tight and pulling you further down. “Relax, babe,” he coos. “Just, sit on me, I can take it.”

“You sure?”

“More than ever.”

And you sink your ass onto his face; until you can feel the tip of his nose poking your entrance, his hot breathe fanning it. Oh shit. “Look, you’re wet already,” he teases, licking the side of your thighs, very close to your pussy. 

You groan at the feeling, but Drew quickly reminds you to stay on task, “Lean forward.”

You do; leaning your upper body down till his dick was right in your face. You hoist your upper body up with your elbows, creating a bit of space for you to suck his dick comfortably. You pull his boxers down; and moan at the sight.

“Ready?” He murmurs against your pussy. 

You pull your hair to the side, “m-hm.”

You wrap your lips around his the tip of his dick, at the same time, he starts licking your folds. You moan around him, your mind consumed with the pleasure of him making out with your pussy.

You force yourself further down on his cock, the salty pre-cum taste on your tongue. His tip hits the back of your throat; gag reflexes triggering slightly. He was big, so it was a bit struggling to fit him entirely into your mouth. 

“Taking it like a good girl, huh?” He manages to groan out, his breath fanning our pussy. 

You just moan against his length; starting to bop your head up and down along it, occasionally sucking or biting. Your hand goes to massage his balls; which causes him to moan loudly. Shit. That motivates you to continue massaging his balls, knowing now that it’s what he likes. 

He moans against you, while his tongue keeps thrusting itself into your pussy. Fuck, this all felt…so surreal. Is one even able to feel so much pleasure at once, just through oral sex?

The room is now just the sounds of the two of you, moaning and grunting, the bed slightly shaking. 

You feel yourself coming close, as Drew continues to make out with your pussy. “Fuck…I’m close, Drew,” you breathe out, bopping your head slower now. 

“I’know,” he murmurs, his tongue going slower too. “Just, continue with that, ‘kay?”

A sudden slap to your ass causes you to moan out of surprise, but also a reminder for you to continue wrapping your lips around his dick. 

You do so; but only about half-way. With your orgasm coming close, your mouth was close to giving up. Eventually, you pull your mouth entirely away from Drew, wanting to focus on your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, and just when you get ready to come over his mouth, his tongue stops, and you don’t feel his head nuzzled in your ass anymore. You glance back, curious as to what happened. His grip on your thighs loosens, but still resting there. “Lemme take over, yeah?”

You had no idea what that meant. But, you don’t object to it, nodding your head. 

In a second, he lifts you off of him, and gets off from his comfortable position on the bed. “You got a condom?” He asks, standing up. 

“In my purse,” you point over to the black bag on the small kitchen counter; the one you brought to dinner. 

He gives you a teasing smile, while he walks over to get it. “So you knew you were getting laid tonight.”

Well, you always needed to be prepared, right? You lay yourself on the same spot Drew was just in, warm and smelling just like Drew. You prop yourself up with your elbows; eyes looking at his back as he rummages through your bag. He has a nice ass, by the way. “Couldn’t hurt to have it,” you reply lazily. 

He turns around with a condom, ripping it open as he walks back to the bed. You watch as he positions himself between your legs, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He leans forward and kisses you, a very sloppy kiss. 

You’re taken by surprise when his fingers enter you; causing you to moan into his mouth. “Fuck,” he curses against your lips, his fingers thrusting in. He adds a third digit, which is close to sending you over the edge. 

He stretches you out, while his lips now move to your breasts. You arch your back in pleasure, moans showing him how good it felt. 

His fingers pull out, and you watch as he aligns his dick with your entrance. Fuck, no matter how many times you see him, it’ll always shock you with how big he is. 

You make eye contact with him, which makes him send you a lazy smile. “You good?” Teasing but also caring is heard in his voice. 

“Will…I fit?” you ask unsurely. 

He chuckles, placing a small kiss on your jawline. “Don’t worry; you’ll fit. And it’ll feel good.”

You nod, trusting him. 

He enters you slowly, making sure you can adjust to his size. You moan when his dick is fully nested inside of you, your hands scratching his back. He leans his forehead gently against yours; the both of you catching your breaths. 

He feels you relax under him, and intertwines his fingers with yours. His head pulls away, and for a few seconds, it’s just him staring at your face. You watch as his eyes linger to every spot on your face. 

“Hey,” you softly say, which comes out more flirtatious. 

“Hey,” he returns the greeting to you, sounding breathless. “You’re pretty.”

That makes you smile, and you pull him back down to kiss him. He kisses back, while thrusting into your core. You moan, even though his thrusts were slow. 

“Faster,” you moan.

“Yes ma’am.”

Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. The way his deep voice adds to that line, gets your pussy closer to coming. And a man of his words, he picks up the pace, slamming into you. 

The bed shakes even harder now, the moans the two of you produce are shamelessly loud. He trails small kisses along your neck, sucking occasionally. 

And as crazy as this thought was; you knew Drew was going to be the best sex you’ve ever had. Might even be better than the night you lost your virginity. He knows all the ways to feel good, to make you feel good. 

With each thrust, you feel yourself coming close again. “Shit, Drew. I’m close,” you groan, tightening yourself around his dick. 

“I’know babe,” he kisses the corner of your eye. “Cum on my dick; I got you.”

He continues his fast pace, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, until you feel a knot in your stomach go undone. 

You cum all over his dick, your body giving up now. Drew helps himself, and you feel him twitch inside of you too. His pacing slows, and you feel warm cum entering his condom. 

“…You squirted,” you hear him chuckle, as he rests his head on your shoulder. 

Oh shit. How embarrassing. You didn't know you were even capable of squirting. Is Drew grossed out by that? Based on his tone, he might not be, but then again-

“That’s…really fucking hot.”

You feel your cheeks go red just because of his compliment, letting go of his hands. You cover your face out of shyness, “shut up.”

You hear him chuckle again, “really…you’re very hot. And beautiful.”

He holds down on your waist as he slowly pulls out of you. You hear him walking across the room; probably to discard his condom. The warmth of him is gone; but a dip on the side of you tells you that he’s laid down on the bed with you. 

This man was unbelievable. First, he shamelessly looks at you during dinner, not engaging in any way with you. Second, he comes into your room in the middle of the night, claiming he’s got ‘important’ stuff to tell you. Third, he listens to long, boring stories about your life. Fourth, he fucks you so good you squirt. 

Unbelievable. 

You pull your hands away from your face, and you turn to face him. He’s already staring at you, his arms resting behind his head. 

The two of you just lay in silence; your eyes dancing all over his facial features. He really does look like the guy you lost your virginity to. Same face, same eyes, nose, lips. The resemblance is…uncanny. 

“You…” you want to ask him if he’s Drew. The Drew from four years ago. 

But you don’t. For some reason, you just can’t. You can’t bring yourself to ask him.

It was a horrible memory; crying at home for days, just because he rejected you. Crying over a guy that you weren’t even together with. It was a stupid memory, that you kept deep in your heart. Eventually, that memory was pushed to the very back with Zack’s help.

“…we just did 69,” you say instead. 

That makes him laugh; sending butterflies to your stomach. “Yeah, we did.”

You’re feeling a bit sleepy now; the tiredness of the sex washing over you. Drew suddenly gets up, and for a moment you think that he’s leaving. 

But he wasn’t; simply grabbing some tissues on the coffee table. He spreads your legs, and starts wiping the cum off it. “What a gentleman,” you sarcastically comment, even though you were happy he’s cleaning up after; Zack never does.

“The bare minimum, y/n,” he tells you instead, before getting off the bed again, throwing it away. 

Huh. You didn’t know; you’ve ever only been with Zack. 

He lays down beside you again, but not before pulling the blanket over you. “Tired?”

“Very,” you murmur, your eyelids feeling heavy. You don’t know why you said it, but you just did, “you can stay here.”

“Wasn’t gonna leave anyways,” he replies back almost instantly.

Warmth spreads throughout you, the comfort of Drew just laying beside you was enough to make you fall asleep. 

And you do drift off to sleep, with the last thing on your mind being Drew. 

Soon enough, Drew falls asleep too, but not before hugging you closely to him. 

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

word count: 6.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: damn they freaky (69 after four years...freaky bitches)

anyways, this is the longest chapter i've so far ...but i hope you enjoyed part three (there will be part 4!) ignore any mistakes...got real tired towards the end. i want to thank everyone who reads my work, u don't know but means a lot to me<3 also thanks to the person that also thought of the time skip idea...tysm! so...will y/n and drew open up about the past? and... who's zack👀👀

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Okay AN IDEA !

If you like it you can use it, if it's not something you wanna write that's perfectly fine too !!

So the request is for wandanat x daughter reader

R is secretly spider girl, only Tony stark knows because he's the one who got her the spider suit. R knows her moms would absolutely be against it, always telling her to stay away from that "spider girl" (not knowing it's actually their daughter. Yes like aunt May does in Spiderman : home coming :3)

So let's say R gets into trouble after trying to fight a villain way too strong compared to her and ends up being saved by wanda herself. Wanda finds out at this moment that the spider girl is her daughter and you can choose how the story goes from there

💕

(your favorite mf who sent 8678 request)

Spider-Girl

Summary: Is it a plane? Is it the Friendly neighborhood Spider-Girl? Sort of, it’s a girl who doesn’t listen to her moms!

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: violence

Word count: 2111

a/n: there surely are words written down here

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

A video of the Spider-Girl stopping bank robbers is shown on the evening news. Y/N stares at the television screen as she eats with her moms, at times glancing at them to see if they’re paying attention to the news.

Natasha shuts off the television with a sigh, throwing the remote to the couch afterwards. Y/N turns to look at her scrunched brows and pursed lips. “If you ever see that Spider-Girl, stay away from her, okay? We don’t want you getting dragged into anything she does.” Her mother mumbles while eating.

Y/N rolls her eyes, though she hides it from her mom. “Mhm.”

“We’re serious about this, Y/N.” Wanda sets her cutlery down, looking at her daughter. “It’s dangerous and we don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I know,” she pushes her plate away, still half full, “you think I can’t handle myself.” Her voice is full of defiance as she mumbles.

The two women sigh as they glance at each other and their daughter, who is keeping her eyes away from them. This isn’t the first time conversations like this have come up.

“It’s not that we think you’re incapable,” Natasha raises her brows as Wanda starts speaking, which makes her wife give her a subtle slap to the arm, “we’re afraid that the bad guys will hit you twice as hard when they realize whose daughter you are.”

“Mhm.” Is all the answer her mothers get before she excuses herself from the dining table and makes her way to her bedroom.

As Y/N slams the door shut, she locks it and moves the curtains in front of her single window. Sitting down to her bed, she closes her eyes and takes some deep breath, calming down her mind. She is aware her mother would never read her mine without permission, unless absolutely necessary, but Y/N likes to make sure there are no loose ends.

Her mind clears from any unwanted thoughts—thanks to Natasha making her meditate with her since she was a kid—and a smile appears on her face. Y/N walks over to her wardrobe, her steps light as she opens it and starts digging through the mess of things inside. She finds the back wall of the wardrobe and moves it out of her way, taking her suit out of its hiding place.

She slips on her Spider-Girl suit, grinning from ear to ear at the empowering feeling the suit gives her. This is what she wants to do. This is her life.

Pressing her ear against the chilly wooden door, listening to the quiet sound of a laugh track coming from the television. Her mom won’t come bother her when they think she is upset. She has plenty of time to fight crime.

Y/N opens her window and climbs out of it, the palms of her suit sticking to the walls of her home as she makes her way to the roof. She shivers as the wind picks up, but she doesn’t let it bother her.

The homemade web shoots out of the web shooter and she flies towards the city centre, where the evening bustle is starting to wake up. She props herself on top of a building, it’s high enough to be hidden from the people, but still low enough to keep an eye on the streets.

After a few minutes of surveilling the area, a bright light flashes just outside the city, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Y/N grins and makes her way to the smoke, practically flying over the buildings as she glides in the air with the web wings of her suit.

It only takes her around 15 minutes to get near the site. She lands on top of an industrial building, staying low as her eyes adjust to the lack of bright city lights.

Y/N can quickly figure out where the light came from. There is a machine on an otherwise unoccupied patch of land between all the abandoned looking buildings. The machine is big, but it looks crude, handmade. She frowns, not feeling good about any of this. It’s still slightly smoking when two men wearing safety gear finally step onto her line of sight.

She tries to hear what they’re talking about, but they’re too quiet even with her heightened sense of hearing. Her eyes scan over the near area, trying to calculate how safe she’d be if she made herself known to them. Not seeing anything on top of the two men and the machine, she starts quietly crawling closer, keeping a close eye to the men’s hands.

Suddenly, a buzzing sensation fills her mind. She snaps her head to the direction her spidey senses guide her, and even though she is fast, it’s not enough. A third man has climbed onto the roof. He is holding a weapon Y/N doesn’t recognize and shoots it before she is able to react.

A bolt of electricity flies out of the gun-like weapon. It hits Y/N right on her side, making her lose her grip and fall down from the building, all the way to the ground. A small cloud of dust puffs out from the impact.

With a groan, Y/N opens her eyes, seeing the two men standing over her with grins on their faces. “Well, well, well,” one of them chuckles, “what do we have here?” His voice is low and raspy, the smoked a pack a day for years kind of voice.

She lets out a quiet growl-like noise, which clearly doesn’t intimidate the men. “What’s she supposed to be?” The other man mumbles, his head tilting from side to side as he studies Y/N’s suit. “Some kind of bug, eh?”

Using the moment to her advantage, she pushes herself on her feet with a move Natasha taught her, webbing one of the men to the face and kicking the other’s knee. The men let out surprised noises, stumbling away from Y/N, which gives her a slight advantage as she starts fighting them.

She does well for a while, at least when there’s only two of them fighting her, but slowly she starts hearing noises growing louder, like running.

Just as she knocks one of the men unconscious and stick the other to a wall with her web, a group of people with the man who shot her in front arrive. “Shit.” Y/N pants, already having used a lot of energy. The man raises his weapon, shooting an electric bolt again.

Y/N lets out a shout as the bolt of energy hits her square in the chest. She flies a few meters back, landing on her back with a grunt. Her hand flies up to her mask, quickly whispering, “SOS,” before she stands back up.

“The Avengers have been notified.” A robotic female voice speaks up.

Mumbling out a quiet thanks to her artificial intelligence helper, Y/N lunges towards the men again. She feels as if part of her strength is back, now that she knows Tony is coming, but reality hits her like a brick wall once an electric beam hits her.

“I’m getting tired of this.” Y/N grumbles, shooting webs to one of the weapons hitting her.

She webs herself into the air, using the altitude as an advantage against the men. While one of the men is still busy with getting the web out of his gun, Y/N swings down, feet first, on one man’s head.

The impact makes a nasty cracking sound, one that makes Y/N cringe. “Sorry!” She lands on the ground, on her feet, while the man falls on his back, unconscious, hopefully. Her spider senses active, and this time she has enough time to web away another weapon pointed at her. What she doesn’t notice is a new group of men on top of a building pushing down a cell tower.

“Take that!” Y/N mumbles to herself, making up sound effects as she shoots her webs, trapping a man to the ground.

A crashing sound gets her attention. She looks up into the sky, where the cell tower is falling down right towards her. She goes to shoot out a web, but nothing comes out of her suit. She lets out an ear shattering scream when the metallic tower drops right on top of her.

Tears are brimming her eyes as she heaves, trapped under the structure. Her vision is blurred and she can taste blood. The men around her look pleased, ready to end it, until one of them flies away.

The others start looking around, shooting at the smallest movements and noises, but one by one they get either flown away or shocked unconscious.

Y/N recognizes the familiar red wisps of magic in the air, and the small widow bites flying. She lets out quiet curses as she starts pushing herself up, using all of her strength to push the structure off of her.

“Let me help you with that.” Wanda lands in front of her, easily lifting the cell tower with her magic while Natasha punches the last man standing unconscious. “Are you alright?” She helps Y/N up, letting her lean on her for support.

Y/N nods, not daring to speak. She knows her mother would recognize her voice. “You got hurt pretty bad. We could help patch you up.” Natasha states as she walks over to them after letting Tony know someone could come collect the men now.

Y/N shakes her head, her eyes wide, though the two women can’t see it. She steps away from Wanda’s hold, giving them finger guns before going to web herself away from the situation. “Shit!” She grumbles as nothing happens.

Wanda frowns. She flicks her wrist, causing the mask on Y/N’s face to fly away. “Y/N!”

Gasping, Y/N looks at her moms with wide eyes. “I can explain! It’s not what it looks like.” She holds out her hands.

“It looks like you sneaked out to fight bad guys on your own,” Natasha’s hands are crossed over her chest, “and you didn’t tell us you’re Spider-Girl.”

“Well-“ Y/N opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, “that’s.. that’s it.” She mumbles, avoiding looking at her moms. They’re angry, so very angry.

“What in the world were you thinking?” Wanda scolds, though concern clearly slips through her angry tone. She walks over to Y/N and starts looking at the wounds she has. “This could’ve ended up so much worse. Do you understand that?”

“Yes..”

“How long have you been doing this?” Natasha walks over as well, wrapping her arm around Y/N’s waist so she could lean on her.

Y/N has a sheepish smile on her face, “as long as you’ve seen Spider-Girl on the television.” They start walking towards Natasha’s car.

Letting out a quiet huff, Wanda shakes her head. “You’re so lucky I’m more worried about your health right now.” She gives Y/N a pointed look, a look that says you’re in so much trouble. “But you better believe we are going to take that suit away and ground you until you’re 30, do you hear me? You will never leave the house again.”

Natasha opens the back door for Y/N, helping her in before getting in herself, while Wanda gets into the driver’s seat. “Who gave you the suit?”

“Tony.” Y/N says quickly. She’ll happily put some of the blame on someone else than herself.

“Oh, I’m going to kill him.” Wanda states from the front of the car.

“I’ll help you.” Natasha mumbles, pulling Y/N closer as she starts to look over her wounds. “You know Wanda is right, yeah? Once you’ve healed up properly we will talk about consequences. And you can never do this again, never ever.” Her hands are on her daughter’s cheeks to hold eye contact, she wants to make sure Y/N is really hearing her.

She nods. She understands this was a close call, she has never gotten this hurt before, but Y/N doesn’t see it as a reason to completely stop. She can get better.

Natasha pulls her close, kissing the side of her head gently. “At least not before you train with us.” She whispers, giving her a small wink before going back to acting as if she never said anything.

Y/N can’t help but let a grin grow on her face. She looks down at her lap to hide it from Wanda, who keeps glancing at her from the rear view mirror.

She’ll never stop being Spider-Girl.

[yup-thats-me]

—houses and homes • N. Kento

pairing: Nanami Kento x wife!reader

summary: Nanami's son wonders the difference between a house and a home.

“Dad, what’s the difference between a house and a home?” The five-year-old boy asked his father as the duo walked towards their car from the grocery store.

For a minute, Nanami looked at his son with surprise. “Where did you learn that from, kiddo?”

The boy skipped along his path, replying nonchalantly. “Well, I have heard people say ‘My house is big,’ but not ‘My home is big’. Just wondering.”

Nanami patted the boy’s hair lovingly. The two got into the car and while he was putting the seat belt over his son, a thought made him smile to himself. Kids sure grow up fast, don’t they? It only seems like yesterday that Nanami met the boy’s mother, Y/n while he was returning from his corporate job and had helped her to catch the thief who was running away with her purse.

But now that he looks back at it, he did not need to help Y/n at all. She had the situation well under control with the way she threw her high heel at the thief like the badass she is. Nonetheless, Nanami is grateful that he had punched the dude and got Y/n’s purse and heel for her. It was for that that Y/n asked him for a friendly date as a payback. But after that day, Kento was not able to get Y/n out of his mind for weeks. When he finally saw her buying some flowers near his workplace, he had asked for her to a formal date and got her number.

Looking back, it's been over eight years and the two are still going strong. After being together for three years, Kento realized he had to give Y/n his last name or he would die, and he did make Y/n L/n to Y/n L/n Nanami. That was the best day of his life, the second being the birth of his darling boy.

While driving, Nanami pointed out several houses on the street. Some big, some small, some mansions and so far and so on. “Those are houses, my boy,” Nanami said as he parked in the parking lot in front of their house. Nanami opened the door, setting the bags on the table. The boy helped too to carry some less heavy bags.

The two then made their way to the boy’s parent’s room where Y/n was laying on their bed, using her phone.. Upon hearing the door open, she set the device down and opened her arms inviting the two warmly for an embrace.

With a smile, Nanami came forward but not before their son who seized his father’s opportunity and nestled between his parents. Y/n giggled at her son’s action before placing a kiss on Nanami’s lips.

“And this, is a home.” Nanami whispered to his son softly.

do not copy, steal or translate my work to any other site. all rights reserved to yup-thats-me on tumblr

[luveline]

—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k

You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.

You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.

It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.

I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.

Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.

You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.

You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—

“Hi.”

You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.

“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.

Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.

(He’s wearing glasses!)

You’d thought he was pretty before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”

You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.

He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”

“You think so?” you ask, surprised.

“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”

You send Hotch anything he wants to see.

“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”

You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”

He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”

“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”

You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”

Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”

You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.

“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.

“Come on, there has to be something.”

His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”

“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”

You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.

[spiteless-xo]

╰┈➤ aurora borealis — liking — part 1/5 ⋙ A snapshot over five years of how your relationship with Satoru Gojo develops.

ft. satoru gojo / fem!reader wc. 7k cw. sfw but explicit content in future chapters - minors do not interact, explicit language, friends to lovers, alcohol, slow burn, pining, sexual tension, lewd imagery, miscommunication, don't try this at home, major character death, potential manga spoilers, second person POV

Masterlist ⋆ Next

2013.

Satoru Gojo.

He’s the friend of a friend of a friend. You see him around school sometimes, but you’ve never talked to him before.

He’s popular— really popular. You would have to go out of your way not to know who The Satoru Gojo is. Loud-mouthed, arrogant, and over six feet tall with shocking white hair.

Everyone knows who Satoru Gojo is.

And that’s why you’re caught off guard when he introduces himself to you. His voice is small—meek—and his back curves downward to make him seem less imposing. He can’t quite meet your eyes when he introduces himself, his bright, baby blues bouncing between your face and his shakey, outstretched hand between you.

You laugh incredulously and it almost seems like he flinches.

He presses his palm into his stomach, trailing up the thick fabric of his black hoodie until it reaches his throat before fingering at the hair at the back of his neck. “What’s… what’s so funny?” he asks, eyes on the floor.

“I know who you are,” you say. You gesture to the large printout of Gojo as a child, pinned to a nearby wall, vandalized with a marker mustache and decorated with balloon stickers. “You’re the Birthday Boy.”

He laughs, but it comes out more like a cough. “Oh, yeah… yeah, that’s me.” Gojo’s lips purse, pressing into the corner of his mouth as he shoves both hands into the centre pocket of his hoodie. He seems almost… bashful. “Sorry, I’ll stop bothering you.”

Suddenly, you feel guilty.

He turns to make his way out of the kitchen, but you reach out and grab his elbow, keeping him in place. He glances at you from over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked.

“I’m sorry, I was being rude,” you say, and his shoulders seem to relax. “Can we start over?”

He laughs—genuinely, this time—and his eyes crinkle as deep, long dimples appear on either side of his smile. “Ok, sure,” he says, returning to face you. He pulls his hand from his pocket, holding it out for you to shake. “My name is Satoru Gojo.”

You take his hand in yours, shaking it gently as you introduce yourself. He’s tall, so you’re not surprised when his hand dwarfs yours. His fingers are long and thin and incredibly cold and when you pull away, you find yourself curling your hand into a fist to try to bring warmth back to your fingers.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “It’s your birthday today, right?”

“Something like that,” he says, his smile growing lazy as he melts into the kitchen counter behind him. He rests his elbows on the granite, one leg bent to support his weight while the other stretches out in front. The fabric of his hoodie smooths across his chest but doesn’t quite pull taut.

“How old are you turning?”

“Twenty-four.”

“You’re a little old to still be in school, don’t you think?”

He snorts, shooting you a narrowed look. “Are you always this rude to people you barely know?” You shrink back from his comment but feel immediate relief when he breaks out into another smile. “I’m just kidding.”

“Sorry,” you say for the second time tonight. “I promise I’m usually really friendly and nice.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he hums, shrugging. “And yeah, maybe I am a little old to still be working on my undergrad, but there’s nothing wrong with taking my time. And what about you? Planning on gradding in four years, getting married, and popping out kids before the geriatric age of thirty?”

His mouth hangs open in mock-shock and you roll your eyes.

“Uh, no. I think I’m going to take five years.”

“Heaven forbid!”

“Besides, what’s wrong with planning out my life?”

“Wait, was I actually right?” he laughs when your eyes dart away. “You can’t be serious. You’re one of those girls that goes to university just to find a husband?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say that.” You frown at him in an effort to tame his giggling, but he just laughs harder. “What’s the rush? Don’t want to be a Christmas Cake?”

“Ok, now you’re the one being rude,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Gojo raises his hands in mock surrender, but his face is still twisted into a teasing smirk. “I just know what I want from life so I’m taking steps to be where I want to be.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Gojo nods through the doorway of the kitchen into the living room, gesturing to all of the party guests in the other room. “And does he know about your strict timeline?”

You shuffle your weight from one foot to the other, avoiding Gojo’s eyes when you speak next. “Well… I don’t exactly have a boyfriend, yet—”

“You can’t be serious!” He presses an arm to his stomach as he laughs, nearly knocking himself off-balance. “All these plans and no boyfriend? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“Ooo, it’s going to be tight.” Gojo stands up to his full height, grinning down at you as he holds up his hand with a single finger to the ceiling. “That’s one year of dating—” he raises another finger, “—two years before he proposes—” another finger, “—three years at the absolute soonest before you get married.”

“And then I’ll be twenty-five,” you say, like you’ve won. 

“Yeah, because everything always works out exactly how you expect it to.”

“Of course, not. He might propose early.”

Gojo laughs. He runs his hand through his hair and then down the back of his neck until his fingers hook around the black blindfold still tied around him. A discarded accessory from an earlier game of Pin the Tail on the Birthday Boy.

“I like you.”

You’re caught off guard by his comment. Your cheeks burn hot as you blink up at him, but before you can respond, he’s already talking, again.

“So, if not your boyfriend, then who’d you come here with?”

“Uh… my roommate has a class with one of your friends, I think, and she extended us the invitation,” you explain, stumbling over your words—why are you getting so flustered?

“Oh, yeah? Who’s your roommate? Maybe I know her.”

“Kento Nanami.”

“Strange name for a girl,” he quips, and you roll your eyes. “Bet she’s ugly like a dog.”

“What a rude thing to say about my friend,” you say, affronted, but Gojo’s mischievous smile has you laughing around your words.

“Hey, you got a couple jabs in—it’s only fair I get to tease you a lil, too,” he hums, turning his attention back to the mass of party guests in the other room. “I know that name… Nanami. He’s in Uta’s class, right?”

“Um, I’m not sure—”

“Tall, awkward, blonde kid?” Gojo waves his hand vaguely around Nanami’s height. “Yeah, I definitely know him. Uta talks about that guy a lot… are you into him?”

You jerk backwards, disgusted. “No, we’re just friends.”

He shoots you a look of disbelief and then makes an over-exaggerated wink. “Sure ya are.”

“I’m serious,” you insist as Gojo rolls his eyes.

“He’s exactly the type of guy that someone like you—someone with plans and goals—is looking for. Of course, you’re into him.”

“I’m not,” you say again, but Gojo’s not even looking at you anymore. His attention is back at the party guests in the other room. “He’s not my type. I’m looking for someone more…”

“Fun?” Gojo finishes, grinning down at you.

You look away quickly with a scowl on your face. “I—I don’t know. Just… I don’t like him like that, ok?”

“Sure, whatever you say, princess.” Gojo shrugs, lacing his hands behind his head as he stands tall beside you. “I gotta go cut some cake, but I’ll come find you later.”

He shoots you a playful wink before walking off, leaving you stammering in his wake. You almost reach out for him again, wanting to pull him back into you and prolong the conversation, but with a few long strides, he’s already in the other room, welcomed by a series of cheers from the other guests.

“Have no fear, the Birthday Boy is here!” Gojo yells, stretching out his arms as he walks into the crowd.

You roll your eyes— there’s that arrogance he’s known for. 

You look through the cupboards in the kitchen in search of a glass of water (your original reason for wandering into the kitchen, before you were interrupted by Satoru Gojo), and find an assortment of mugs. They’re all mismatched, likely thrifted or gifted, so you grab the first one that catches your eye before bringing it to the sink to get some water.

From the kitchen, the noise in the other room is dampened. You can hear bits and pieces of conversation from some guests standing near the doorway, Gojo yelling for cake, and the music playing from the TV. It’s a bit overwhelming—all that noise—so you enjoy the silence and solitude of the kitchen for as long as you can before returning to the party for cake, leaving your empty mug in the sink.

You push past a few people before finding Nanami. He’s leaned against the far wall by himself, sipping casually from a red solo cup as he observes the other party guests. You laugh to yourself as you approach, he’s the one who wanted to go to this party in the first place, and yet he hasn’t talked to anyone all night long.

He notices you as you walk up and his brows raise in acknowledgement, lowering the cup from his lips as you lean back on the wall beside him. “Where did you go?” he asks.

“I went to the kitchen for some water.”

From where you’re standing, you have a direct line of sight of the couch where Gojo has made himself comfortable. He has a girl on either side of him—both scowling—and a too-small party hat affixed to his head.

His long arms are thrown across the back of the couch, around each of the girls’ bodies. You watch one hand dip down behind one of the girls’ backs and you see her squeal as Gojo pinches her side. She frowns at him, slapping him across the chest in retaliation, but he just laughs and does it again.

You shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest and moving your attention over to Nanami, instead. He’s watching Gojo, too, and you see the tendon in his jaw tensing.

“Are there a lot of people here that you know?” you ask, and he doesn’t shift away his attention when he responds.

“Just my TA. I haven’t seen any students from class.”

“Oh, the girl that invited us, right? Have you talked to her yet?”

“No,” Nanami sighs. He ducks his head as he takes a sip from his drink, shifting his attention to you when he lowers his cup. “She’s the one over there—Utahime.”

You follow his nod back to the couch and your lips press into a tight, thin line. “The one with Gojo?”

“Unfortunately.”

Gojo’s attention is solely focused on Utahime, now. Both of his hands circle her waist as he tickles her sides. She’s yelling at him, her face scrunched in anger, but you can’t quite make out what she’s saying to him. The girl on Gojo’s opposite side seems grateful that Gojo is leaving her alone and has since lit up a cigarette.

“Are they… together?” you ask.

“She wouldn’t date someone like him,” Nanami scoffs, but you note the lack of conviction in his tone.

“That’s the TA you have a crush on, right?” you ask, looking up at Nanami. You watch his cheeks flush pink as he tries to stammer a response, but you press on. “The masters student teaching your class, right?”

“I do not have a crush on her,” Nanami insists, but his hand comes up to pull the collar of his shirt away from his throat. “I’m not a teenager.”

“You can still have a crush on someone as an adult,” you say, enjoying how visibly embarrassed Nanami is becoming. “I really think you should try to talk to her tonight. She invited you for a reason.”

“She was just being polite.”

“Then why aren’t any of your other classmates here?” you note, and he stays silent. “You’re graduating this year and then she won’t be your TA anymore. Make a move on her.”

Nanami waves his hand in dismissal, clearly finished with this conversation, but you’re not.

“I was talking to Gojo in the kitchen, and he knew who you were.”

Nanami shoots you a sidelong glance. “Ok?”

“He knew your name. And what you look like.”

“Ok?” Nanami repeats, lost.

“Utahime told him about you,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Why would she tell him about you?”

Nanami shakes his head. “I… I don’t know.”

You want to throttle him. How could someone so smart be so dense?

Before you get a chance to really spell it out for him, all of the lights shut off, submerging you all in darkness. The crowd starts a horribly off-key rendition of the Happy Birthday Song as a walking fire hazard parts the sea of people. Two students you don’t recognize carry the cake to the coffee table in front of Gojo, alight with twenty-four candles, before stepping aside to join the other singers.

You watch Gojo stare down at the cake, the flames casting flickering shadows across his face. He grins, running his tongue across his teeth in delight before taking a comically long inhale.

Blue eyes flick up to meet yours just before the candles go out.

Utahime and the other girl on the couch dish out slices of cake to the party guests as Gojo plates them. There’s no rhyme or reason to his cuts, so the slices are all awkward shapes and sizes. Utahime is visibly annoyed every time she picks up a plate that Gojo has slapped a slice on.

You nudge Nanami hard as Utahime serves cake to some of the guests standing near the two of you, before returning to grab more.

“This is your chance,” you hiss, trying to be discrete. “When she gives you a piece of cake, talk to her.”

“She’s busy,” Nanami says, fingers tapping against the side of his cup. “I don’t want to interrupt her.”

You nod across the room to the other girl that’s dishing out cake. “The other girl can hand out cake while you’re talking to Utahime.”

Nanami shakes his head, looking down at his feet and curling his shoulders like he’s trying to disappear. 

“Come on,” you urge, nudging him again as Utahime nears.

She keeps her head low as she approaches, jutting her hands out to give you both a plate of cake. She has her head ducked low, too—her face hidden by her blunt-cut bangs.

You move your hands away from the plate, refusing to accept it. “Oh, are there any smaller pieces?” you ask.

Utahime looks up at you, her eyes darting to Nanami before returning to your face. She groans and rolls her eyes, “I don’t think so. That idiot doesn’t know how to cut cake so they’re all—” She holds up the plates with an apologetic look, gesturing to the mounds of dessert slopped onto the plate, “—like this. You don’t have to eat it all.”

You laugh, taking one of the plates from her while Nanami takes the other. “Ok, well, thank you! What was your name, sorry?”

“Utahime,” she smiles.

The tension between Utahime and Nanami is so thick you could cut it with a knife. They’re both trying to pretend like they don’t notice each other, while still sneaking glances at one another. 

Luckily, with her response, you’re able to get them to finally acknowledge one another.

“Oh! You’re Nanami’s TA, right?” you say, feigning excitement as you nudge Nanami in the side. Utahime and Nanami’s eyes meet, and you watch Utahime quickly look away with a dusting of pink across her cheeks. “Nanami speaks very highly of you, I feel like I already know you.”

You can feel Nanami’s irritation from your comment—your admission that he fawns about her in private—but it melts quickly when Utahime looks up at him with wide, eager eyes. “Really?”

Nanami smiles, laughing softly like it catches him off guard, and he nods. “Yes, you’ve been such a great mentor to me this past year. You’re an excellent teacher.”

Her smile widens and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you were able to make it tonight. It’s nice to see you outside of class for once.”

Just as you’re about to sneak away and leave the duo alone, you see a dark shape come up from behind Utahime. Long arms stretch over her shoulders before wrapping around her, pulling her tight against Satoru Gojo’s broad chest.

“Uta - hime!” he sings, settling his chin on the top of her head with a pout. He's still wearing that stupid party hat. “What are you doing? There’s cake that needs to be handed out.”

Her smile disappears instantly, shifting quickly into a sharp scowl as she shoves Gojo’s arms off of her shoulders before whirling around to push at his chest. She’s much smaller than he is, so he feigns a stumble from the strength of her shove.

“Get your hands off of me,” she hisses.

He juts his lower lip out even further and you feel Nanami stiffen at your side. “Why are you being so mean to me on my birthday, Utahime?”

“It’s not your—”

You don’t want to lose this opportunity for Nanami to talk with Utahime, so you bite your tongue and step forward to reach for Gojo’s arm, linking it with yours. “Oh, happy birthday! I’ve been meaning to talk with you!”

“Huh?” Gojo looks down at you quizically, “You have?” He doesn’t resist when you pull him away, dragging him away from the two and their blossoming relationship.

“Yes…” you say, the words trailing off as you focus on weaving through the crowd. You just need to get far enough that Gojo forgets about Utahime—where’s that other girl he was bothering? Maybe you can lead him to her, instead.

“We talked earlier.” Gojo sounds less and less impressed as you tug him to the opposite side of the room. You’re about to pull him into the kitchen when he plants his feet on the ground and levels you with a sly look. “Couldn’t get enough of me, eh? I told you I’d come find you later.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, annoyed, but still feeling heat rushing to your cheeks from the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You glance back through the crowd, seeing glimpses of Utahime and Nanami together—thankfully, it seems like they’ve returned to their conversation. Utahime is laughing behind her hand and Nanami is fingering the collar of his shirt.

“Are you and that girl together?”

“Huh? Utahime?” he snorts. “Don’t let her hear you asking that—she’d rather die than have people think we’re dating.”

You exhale a heavy sigh of relief. That’s good news.

“Why?” His tone has you returning your attention to him as he peers down at you, eyebrow cocked. “You gotta thing for bangs?”

“No,” you frown. “My friend is interested in her, so I hoping they can talk and then maybe…” you trail off with a shrug and Gojo nods in understanding.

“I thought that guy looked familiar,” he says. “That’s your roommate, right?”

“Yeah, Nanami.”

“The Dog,” he says, grinning when you scowl at him. He bares his teeth, growling lowly before snapping toward you, biting at the air in front of your face.

You turn away from him with a groan and try to step back, away from his space. But Gojo’s arm is still linked with yours, so he holds you close, capitalizing on your misstep by pulling you even closer.

“You have nothing to worry about me and Uta, ‘kay? She’s not my type.” He grins down at you wolfishly as he speaks.

You feel your body bloom with heat as sweat begins to form along the nape of your neck. Gojo’s face is all sharp edges and angles: the line of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, and the point on each of his canines. You gulp, eyes widening as your gaze travels up to his darkened eyes.

“Come to think of it,” he says, speaking slowly and deliberately. You watch the pink of his tongue moving around the hard sounds of each word. “I don’t think you’re my type, either.”

The heat in his gaze compels you to ask, “What’s your type?”

“Girls that want to fuck me.”

You feel your heart lurch into your throat as Gojo leans in closer. His eyes travel across your face to your mouth and his tongue darts out to run across his lower lip in a way that has you mirroring his movements. His gaze dips lower, to your throat, and you feel as if he can see the pounding of your pulse through the artery in your neck.

“Am I right?” he asks, eyes swinging back up to meet yours. “Or do you want to fuck me?”

You waver under the intensity of his gaze—bright, blue eyes that bore through you until you feel the heat of his look on the back of your head. You find yourself at a loss for words, stammering up at him as you make a feeble attempt to step out of his grip. The only thing keeping your bodies apart is your hand at your chest, holding the plate of cake that Utahime gave you, but Gojo’s chest is pressed right against the soft paper plate, bending it upwards.

His hand comes up, index finger pointed as he collects a dollop of whipped cream on the tip. You watch with rapt attention as he brings the digit up to his mouth, wet lips wrapping around his finger as he slowly licks the cream from the tip.

“Yum,” he says, and you feel your mouth go dry.

“Satoru, leave the girl alone.”

Gojo’s face twists into a pout, eyes flicking up to meet something behind you, before releasing you and returning to his full height. You gasp for air—as if you hadn’t taken a breath during the entire exchange—and stumble backwards from the loss of his grip. You feel large, warm hands grab at your upper arms, steadying you, before you hear the voice again. This time, he says your name.

“Are you alright?”

You turn your head to meet the voice and although his tone and touch are soft, the man’s smile is sinister in a way that makes your stomach twist—your skin is still hot from Gojo’s earlier stunt and this matching look isn’t making it any better, so you take a step away.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” You offer him a grateful smile, but it feels strained.

“Why are you bothering us?” Gojo groans, and he reaches forward to grab the plate of cake from your shakey hands, claiming it as his own. “Don’t you have party guests to entertain, Suguru?”

Suguru Geto—you recognize him immediately after Gojo says his name. He’s another student in your school who’s just as popular as Satoru Gojo. The two of them are always together, and you can almost feel the familiarity between them as Gojo melts against the wall under Geto’s disapproving stare.

“Might I remind you that this is, technically, your party, Satoru?”

Gojo waves his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, but you’re the one hosting.”

“You haven’t finished cutting the cake.”

Another handwave. “Shoko can do it. Or you, Suguru, since you’re so bored you have to interrupt my conversations.”

Geto shakes his head, dropping the subject. Instead, he nods toward Nanami and Utahime, who have now moved to sit together on the couch. You notice that they’re sitting close enough that their thighs are pressed against one another—the sight makes your heart swell with happiness.

“Looks like Uta found the courage to talk to…” Geto trails off, lips pursed in thought.

“Nanami,” you say, and Geto looks down at you curiously.

“Yes. Nanami,” he repeats as the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile.

“Yeah, turns out: Nanami’s into her, too,” Gojo says. You watch him start to eat the cake with his hands—scooping each bite with his middle and ring fingers, cradling the dessert up to his mouth before sucking it off.

You feel very, very warm.

“How did you discover that?” Geto asks, but he’s looking down at you.

Around a mouthful of his own fingers, Gojo says, “This one, here,” and he nods down at you.

“I’m Nanami’s roommate,” you supply, shrinking under the gaze of the two men beside you. “He’s been wanting to talk to her for a while, but he always has some excuse not to.”

Geto hums in consideration, returning his attention to the two on the couch. “It’s funny how things work out like that,” he says. “You know what they say about sexual tension.”

“What?” Gojo asks with whipped cream on his lips.

“That if you feel it, then it’s mutual.”

Gojo runs his thumb over his lips, cleaning off the mess before sucking the finger into his mouth. You feel your throat go dry as you watch him, eyes focused on the way his lips circle the digit, lips pursing lewdly before he pulls his thumb out with a wet pop! You can see a string of saliva trailing from the end of his finger to his lips. He seems so distracted by what’s left of the cake on his plate that you’re not even sure if he’s listening to what Geto is saying.

Hell, you’re hardly paying attention to what Geto’s saying.

"You know, Satoru, if Utahime gets a boyfriend, I doubt she'll still chauffer you around town the way she does now."

Gojo frowns, deep lines etching between his brows as he looks up from the plate at Geto. "What do you mean? She has to drive me."

"Satoru doesn't know how to drive," Geto explains, looking down at you with a wink.

"Because I get motion sick," Gojo says, frowning deeper. "I need Uta to drive me otherwise I'll get sick everywhere."

"Perhaps it's time for you to get your license, Satoru," Geto says. He's biting back a smile that only seems to make Gojo more upset. "I'm sure you wouldn't get motion sick if you yourself were the driver."

Gojo waves his hand in dismissal. "That doesn't sound right, at all. I need to be driven," he insists.

Geto shakes his head, chuckling softly before looking down at you. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again, sometime.” He nods across the room at Nanami and Utahime before stepping away from you and Gojo and returning to the party.

As you watch him leave, you realize that you never introduced yourself to him. Yet, he knew your name.

“Bye, Suguru,” Gojo sings, waving at Geto’s retreating figure by clapping his fingers against his palm. When he shifts his attention back to you, he’s licking the last of the icing off of his plate. “Now, then… where were we?” He discards the plate onto a nearby table before steeling you with his full attention.

His lips are shiny with saliva and sugar and you look away when his tongue darts out the clean it off.

“Actually,” you start, raising your hands to keep Gojo away when he leans into your space, “I’m getting a little tired—I think I’m going to go home.”

He frowns. “Already? What about your roommate, you’re just going to leave him here?”

You both turn to see the pair laughing and Nanami’s hand resting on Utahime’s knee. “I think he’ll be fine,” you say.

Gojo’s pouting again when you look over at him. You wonder if this look works on everyone—the big, blue, puppy-dog eyes and the soft, pink lip jutted out—he seems to be using it a lot, tonight.

“You really don't want to stay and talk with some girl you barely know when you have a room full of friends, do you?”

He seems hurt and you have to look away when your heart starts to flutter in your chest. “Well, I’m trying to get to know you better, but you’re blowing me off. Do you know how nervous I was to introduce myself to you? And just now, when I thought things were going well, you tell me you want to leave?”

“Why would you be nervous to introduce yourself to me?” you scoff. You feel your cheeks burn and you can feel yourself start to sweat. “I’m not—I’m a nobody.”

Gojo snorts, shooting you a look of disbelief. “Every somebody was once a nobody. So, you’re not going anywhere, now that I have you. Come on, let me show you something.”

Before you have a chance to protest or make up some sort of lame excuse, he’s got your hand in his and he’s leading you back into the kitchen. He walks you to the sink, where he drops your hand, and then leans forward over the counter to work open the screen of the kitchen window.

You feel some of the sugary residue on your fingers from the cake on his hands and you rub your hands together to try to clean them off. “What are you doing?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” he sings, prying the screen off the window and setting it down on the ground. He slides open the pane and then gestures to the now-open window with a smile on his face. “Do you wanna go first?”

He laughs at your confused expression, wrapping his hands around the frame of the window as he steps his foot onto the counter. “Ok, fine—I’ll go first.”

And then he climbs outside.

You rush over to the window, hopping onto the kitchen sink to peer outside, but you don’t see him. The kitchen is on the second floor, so if he fell, he would’ve landed directly on the concrete below—but you don’t see him.

“I’m over here, dummy,” he scoffs, and you turn your head to see him sitting on the portico—the small roof overtop of the front door. “What? You thought I jumped out the window?”

“I really don’t know what to expect, when it comes to you,” you say, feeling your heart rate relax at the sight of Gojo safe.

He grins wider from your comment and extends his hand out to you. “Come on. I’ll help you up.”

You’re not sure why you take his hand, but you do, and the next thing you know, he’s dragging you out of the window and into the open air. Your legs and arms scramble for purchase on anything, your hand grabbing at the sleeve of his hoodie while he holds your opposite hand tight.

“Geez, relax. I’m not going to drop you,” he assures, but you still feel your heart fall into your stomach when—for just a moment—your feet dangle in the air.

Gojo pulls you up onto the roof with him, holding you tight against his chest as your heart rattles against your ribcage and you struggle to catch your breath. “What—the—fuck?” you pant, eyeing him wildly.

“You’re fine.”

He cradles the back of your head in his palm, bringing your face into the crook of his neck as he holds you until your body stops trembling.

Heights freak you out, but you’ve never reacted quite like this before. Heart racing, hands shaking, sweat running down your back—it’s unusual.

But Gojo doesn’t comment on it at all. He just holds you close against him until your breathing returns to normal and you push yourself away from his chest. “You’re good,” he says, but his eyes are looking up at the sky.

You follow his gaze, expecting to see a sky full of stars, but all you see are clouds. You try not to worry about how your legs are draped over Gojo’s thighs on either side of the roof’s peak—you’re practically sitting in his lap!

“Sometimes, you can see the northern lights from here, especially around this time of year,” he says. Both of his hands have moved to your lower back, cradling you close to his body as he cranes his head up. “Doesn’t seem like it’s a good night for it, tonight.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’ve never seen the northern lights.”

“That sucks, they’re really cool.”

You can feel his breath tickle your face when he speaks—it smells sweet.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

Gojo laughs. “This time, next year, Suguru and I are going to be travelling around the world. Next time, we won’t be able to see them together.”

You look down at him to see him already staring at you. Big, blue eyes blinking at you owlishly as your faces sit only inches apart.

You feel his hands fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, wiggling their way underneath the bottom hem until cold, slender fingers press into the bare skin of your lower back. Your back arches away from the touch, forcing your chest against Gojo’s and he grins.

“Hey! Your hands are freezing!”

“Aw, come on, I’m just tryin’ to warm ‘em up,” he wines. He sprawls his hands across your lower back, palms pressed into the muscle while his fingers slot into the grooves of your spine. You try to squirm away from his touch, but there’s nowhere to go.

“I’m going to fall off the roof if you keep doing this.”

“Nah, I’d catch you.”

Your hands curl into fists around the fabric of his hoodie while you squirm in his lap. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and laughs, warm air fanning across your skin.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he says.

You hiss a sharp breath when his hands start to inch their way up your back, exposing more skin to the cool December air—such a sharp contrast to the warmth you feel in the rest of your body from Gojo’s laughter into your neck.

You swear you can feel sticky lips mouthing at your skin, but your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you’re starting to feel nauseous. It must be the fear of falling, you think, but even though you’re squirming away from his ice-cold fingers, in Gojo's arms you feel oddly… safe.

“Do you think Uta and the Dog are going to get married soon?” he asks, voice muffled.

“I don’t know. They barely know each other.”

“So?” Satoru pulls his head from your shoulder to look at your face. Your skin feels so warm that his cool fingers now feel like a nice reprieve from the heat, rather than an annoyance. “When you know, you know.”

“What, like love at first sight?” you blurt out around a laugh. “You don’t believe in that, do you?”

He frowns. “Of course, I do.”

You level Gojo with an incredulous look but the determination in his face doesn’t waver. Your gaze bounces between each of his eyes and you feel like you could get lost in the depths of their blue. They seem softer now than they did inside, not quite as sharp and bright. It must be because it's so dark outside, you reason. With the clouds covering the moon, there's not much light out here aside from the dull glow from the coloured lights along Geto's roof.

You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze to the house’s roof behind his shoulder when you realize you’ve been staring at him. “How old is Utahime?”

“Past her prime,” Gojo says quickly, and you laugh despite yourself.

“Then yeah, they’ll get married soon.”

Gojo laughs, pulling you closer with his palms on your back. “Are you gonna be jealous if they get married before you do?”

“No, of course not,” you scoff. “Just as long as I have a date to their wedding, I’ll be happy.”

“I’m sure you will,” he hums, “and if not, you can always be my date.”

“No way,” you dismiss quickly.

You can practically hear him pouting, even with your gaze elsewhere. “Why not? I’d be a really good date.”

“Satoru? Is that you out there?”

Gojo’s hands fall back down to your hips and he cranes his neck to look at the open kitchen window. Leaning out is the girl from earlier—the one that was sitting on the couch with Gojo and Utahime. 

“Oh. Hey, Shoko,” he says while you tug your shirt down to cover your exposed skin. You’re grateful for the interruption so your heart rate can return to normal. “What’s up?”

“Suguru doesn’t like it when you sit out there—you know that. You ruin all the shingles on his roof.”

“What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

Shoko doesn’t respond. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, the cherry burning red, before exhaling heavily into the open air. “Yeah, sure.”

“Please, don’t tell him,” Gojo begs. “We’re waiting to see the northern lights.”

She shrugs lazily, taking another drag from her cigarette before looking up at the sky with her exhale. “Doesn’t look like a good night for them.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad,” he says, frowning.

“Maybe we’ll see them if we’re patient enough,” you say. Although you don’t want Geto to get mad at you, there’s a part of you that’s having fun out here on the roof with Gojo—you’re not quite ready to go inside, yet.

Your response surprises him. You can tell from the way his hands tighten around your hips and how his gaze snaps to your face. “Yeah, maybe!”

“Suit yourself,” Shoko says, ashing her cigarette out the window. She disappears back into the house and you can hear a muffled yell from inside, “Satoru’s on the roof.”

“Again?” sighs an exasperated voice.

Gojo grumbles and rests his chin on your shoulder, opposite from the window. “Such a buzzkill,” he complains.

“Satoru?” Geto pops his head out of the window, brows furrowed. “Get off the roof.”

“Satoru’s not here,” Gojo says, unconvincingly.

“Satoru.”

Gojo groans and releases his hold on your body to dramatically toss his hands up in the air. “Guys—come on. Do you really need to interrupt me like this? It’s my birthday party!” he huffs, pouting when Shoko’s head pops out from behind Geto in the window.

“There are plenty of places for you two to sit inside. I told you to stop climbing on the roof,” Geto frowns.

“I told you he wouldn’t be happy,” Shoko says unhelpfully.

Feeling like you’re stuck in the middle of some childish spat, (and suddenly anxious to be caught in such close proximity with Gojo), you make moves to untangle yourself from around Gojo’s body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know the roof was off-limits,” you say. “I shouldn’t have followed the Birthday Boy out here.”

Shoko smiles at your comment, ducking back into the kitchen as Geto reaches his hand out for you to take. Geto’s hand is warm and strong in yours, but Gojo’s cold hands support your waist as you make the treacherous step from the roof onto the windowsill.

Getting back into the house is much easier with Geto’s help than climbing out was, and the warmth of the party inside has blood rushing to your cheeks. You didn’t realize how cold you were out there, but now you can feel the chill in your fingertips and the end of your nose.

Geto helps move you out of the way as Gojo practically swings back into the kitchen, his hands grasping the upper window frame as he enters the kitchen feet-first. He lands on the tile with a huff and another pout, his cheeks and nose are tinged pink from the cold.

“You guys are no fun.”

“You’re welcome to utilize any space in my home, except for the roof,” Geto says, and Gojo rolls his eyes. Geto turns to look at you, “Your friend was looking for you. I think he wants to leave.”

“He’s not talking with Utahime anymore?” you ask, frowning, and Geto shakes his head.

That’s disappointing news, and you’ll have to find out what happened when you see Nanami. Not that you expected him to invite her back home—he’s not that kind of guy—but you expected the two of them to talk until well into the night.

“Well, thank you for hosting!” you say, smiling up at Geto nervously. “I had a really good time, and happy birthday!” you turn to speak with Gojo and he’s already smiling down at you.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, and you don’t doubt it.

You peer out of the kitchen and into the party in search of Nanami and quickly find him wandering amongst what’s left of the crowd with your jacket over his arm. You offer the trio one last wave and they wish you goodbye by name before you step out of the kitchen to meet up with Nanami.

“Ah, there you are,” he says, and he seems relieved. “I have your coat. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

You take your jacket from Nanami’s hold and throw it over your shoulders, excited to talk with him on your walk home. You try not to look back into the kitchen as you walk past, but you can’t help yourself from giving the room one last, fleeting look over your shoulder.

Geto is scolding Gojo with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Gojo’s giving him another one of his patented puppy-dog pouts, begging for forgiveness with bright pink cheeks from the cold—but Geto isn’t falling for it. You watch with a laugh as Gojo groans in defeat, dramatically rolling his head back with his eyes.

When his face falls forward, his gaze snaps to your retreating form. You disappear around the corner with the memory of Gojo’s grinning face. And he's still wearing that stupid party hat.

You and Nanami walk in silence for half a block before you ask, “So, what happened with Utahime?” your excitement is evident in your tone.

“She’s a very nice girl,” he says, stuffing his hands deep into his coat pockets and tucking his chin against his chest. “I really enjoyed our conversation… thank you for pushing me to speak with her.”

You grin wildly, practically skipping alongside Nanami. “Did you ask for her number?”

“No, I didn’t.”

It feels like all of the excitement is sucked out of your lungs in an instant as you deflate. “What? Kento, you—”

“She asked for mine.”

You look over at Nanami, struggling to process his words. The longer you stare at him, the pinker his cheeks turn—and you don’t think it’s from the cold. It takes a long time for your brain to reconnect to your mouth after you realize he’s blushing.

“Are you going to see her again?” you ask.

"Yes, I hope so.”

You bite back a smile, turning to face forward. The two of you walk in silence for a moment longer and you think back to your conversation on the roof with Satoru Gojo—about soulmates. The concept still feels silly, but as you walk alongside Nanami in the December cold, you can feel the electricity buzzing off of him as he thinks of Utahime.

“I’m really happy for you,” you whisper, and Nanami chuckles.

“Don’t get excited about nothing,” he scolds, but there’s no weight behind his words. “And how was your night? I’m sorry I left you alone for so long.”

“No, it’s ok, I had a good time,” you say. “I ended up talking with Gojo for most of the night.”

Nanami groans. “That man is insufferable. I’m sorry you had to deal with him.”

“He wasn’t that bad.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.